A colossal figure towered over all creation, a being so large that even the mightiest of the mountains he’d created failed to reach his vast size. He was so huge he could barely even see the immortals and hufolk who gazed upon him in awe. The being was Loma, God of Geography and as he surveyed his progress on his third daily country, he sighed. It was entirely possible Loma, shaper of landmasses conjurer of mountains and father of almost all habitable space was… Well. Bored.

His hands stretched out and more and more land began to unfurl beneath him, a feat he knew should inspire awe within himself as he fulfilled the ultimate power fantasy only gods could ever dream of making reality.

But it was all so… flat. Much flatter than his last country. Even flatter than his England copy. The entire country was intended to be one biome, essentially, all a forest and while forested mountains can and do exist on Earth, Loma was pretty sure this wasn’t what the other gods were going for.

Besides, not every country could have multiple Everest sized mountains within it. So, it was smart to learn restraint and not experience the transcendental joy of springing an entire mountain out of nothingness. He’d tried diverting a load of rivers to make a really big lake to take the edge off, but it just wasn’t the same.

Not that he’d personally describe his actions as taking the edge off, as he was in the midst of refusing to acknowledge he’d peaked on his second country and it would now take a lot more to make him feel as powerful as he did then. After all, he was the sensible one. Solid and dependable, like the reason he’d chosen his name. If he thought a country shouldn’t be mountainous, then flat it shall be.

‘But one mountain couldn’t hurt…’ A dark voice whispered in his mind. ‘It could even be close to Everest sized. As a treat, for all your hard work.’

Loma didn’t respond. He assured himself he was sensible and endeavoured not to give in to temptation. Calm and logical. There was no way he’d mess things up.

And there was really no way he’d enter into a dialogue with himself. That would be a really bad sign.

A colossal tree towered over Aomy and in awe, Aomy stared back up at it. Calling it colossal was hardly an understatement, although perhaps it couldn’t compare to the truly gargantuan height Loma had reached. It had clearly been modelled off the redwoods of Earth, roughly equal to the trees average size, meaning it could happily stand toe to toe with buildings even 10 stories tall.

The civilisation goddess was pretty sure it wasn’t a redwood though. In her opinion, it looked like an oak grown to enormous height, although, given her limited tree knowledge it could really resemble almost anything. She was fairly certain it wasn’t birch though. That would be noticeable.

Whatever it was, it was beautiful. Its height wasn’t even the only factor in its beauty, its bark was a lovely shade of brown, it stood so straight and so proud and its leaves caught the light in such a way that even the harshest of poets would struggle to describe it at anything less than the epitome of the phrase sun dappled.

Aomy was pretty sure she was only staring at it because she was procrastinating. Again. Oh, not that there wasn’t wonder evoked by it, and the forest of equally impressive trees around her, but Aomy found there was only so long you could stare at a tree before you got bored, and your inner voices started yelling at you to just get on already.

But, somewhat predictably, she really didn’t want to. Oh, sure, she was probably more prepared today than any other day to make a new species of sapients, she’d even gone to the site of their homeland to get a feel for it and plan the race around it, learning from her disaster with the dwarves.

There were two snags, however. The first being that Aomy had the remarkable talent to procrastinate anything and everything. The second was courtesy of Naturum. The memory of said event flashed once more before Aomy’s eyes.

“Hey Aomy!” the nature goddess appeared from nowhere, causing the subject of her sentence to yelp and fall backwards from a chair she sat upon.

“Aagghhh” the civilisation goddess eloquently replied from her place on the ground.

Undeterred Naturum conjured a second chair into existence and sat down next to Aomy. “Wow, just got a real sense of déjà vu. To be fair, I did try and send some knocks to your house, but I never got a reply. Next thing I tried was teleporting straight to you and I did not expect that to work.”

She began to look around, noting the familiar hills and dales of the south of Excelsior’s first country. “Huh. Why the hell are you out here anyway?”

Aomy scrambled back up into her chair. “Um. Well. I thought Damon might come looking for me, so I didn’t go back to my island. Thought it might be, I don’t know, too obvious, or something.”

Naturum nodded. “Ahhhh, makes sense. Don’t think he did end up looking for you, he fucked off after the meeting.” She tilted her head to one side, curiously. “Surely he could just teleport straight to you like I did though?”

“When I made this chair, I gave it the special property of obscuring everything from Damon in a 10-metre radius. Hoped that’d shield me from stuff like that.”

Naturum nodded again. “Ahhhh, that also makes sense. Nice spot by the way. Very picnicable.”

“Oh, uh, thanks” mumbled the awkward god, who had teleported randomly to this location and its aesthetic appeal was the result of little more than blind luck and the fact that most of Excelsior’s habitable areas were at least relatively nice looking.

“So, um. Why’d you come out here?” she continued.

The perpetual smile didn’t quite fade from Naturum’s face, although someone scrutinising it could tell it grew noticeably more strained. “Weellllll, I wanted to ask a favour actually. You know how people keep blaming me for the whole monster thing?”

“Mmmhmm.” A nod accompanied Aomy’s affirmation.

“Well, I thought it’d be nice to have a civilisation that actually respected nature, y’know. Sure, that’d have made more sense when we doing elves, but still… I’d do it myself but, well, you are the civilisation goddess…” The smile had almost fully slipped from Naturum’s face at this point.

For once the two goddesses looked equally tense and nervous. Each of their shoulders hunched, neither looking directly at the other. After an awkwardly long pause, Aomy spoke. “Yeah, sure. I can, uh, try and tell them that.”

The green goddess brightened back to her full splendour. “Ahhhh, thank me! Ooh, could you also really drive it home that I didn’t make monsters? Like, make it a core part of their belief? Or make them really want to spread that around?”

Aomy, however, hadn’t un-hunched and Naturum finally took note of that.

“Hey, hold on, are you alright?” she asked.

Hesitantly, Aomy responded “Um, sure, probably? I’m just going to have to make a new script, that’s all.”

Naturum blinked. “Script? What do you mean?”

“Well, when I made hufolk, I wanted to persuade them to make their society in a non-destructive way. So, I spent most my time that day writing a script and doing a speech thing.”

Naturum blinked again. “Hufolk?”

“Oh. That’s my name for humans. Longish story,”

Naturum leaned back in her chair, contemplatively. “Okay, so, the problem is, it takes a while to write a script?”

“Yeah. It, er, probably wouldn’t be, but, uh. I. Well, I procrastinate writing it. A lot.”

Naturum shot forward out of her relaxed position, so she was staring excitedly at Aomy. “Well, there’s an easy solution then!”

Aomy began to perk up, slightly. “There is?”

The nature goddess grinned. “Yeah, easy. Don’t write a script!”

Aomy began to perk back down and frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Have you seen me try and speak normally? It’s even worse in front of lots of people!”

Naturum scratched her head. “Hmm. You do um a lot.” Abruptly she clicked her fingers. “Ooh, got it! Record your spontaneous speech solo, so you won’t get stage fright, and, as a bonus, you’ll get multiple tries if you mess up!”

“Nice alliteration” mumbled Aomy, who didn’t know if her ‘such sweet sibilance’ comment had been heard before and didn’t want to repeat herself just in case.

Naturum leaned back again, now with hands self-assuredly tucked behind her head. She laughed and said “Yeah, wasn’t it? Anyway, what do you say? Ready to speech up some gnomes?”

“Heh. Sure. Although I won’t phrase it like that.”

Naturum grinned. “Glad to hear it!” she cried. “Sweet, well, I should probably get on, I have an ecosystem to make. You’ll be alright on your own?”

“Hopefully” Aomy replied.

“Alright. Byyee!”

As she vanished from sight, Aomy’s vision of the past faded and she sighed. So much for spontaneity challenging her procrastination, she was still so consumed by the desire to avoid said speech that she’d apparently rather have random flashbacks than even get to the point where she could actually do any recording.

Although, to be fair, the block in her mind seemed so much less all-encompassing than before and the situation felt way less dire. She could get on. All she had to do was commit and start. Aomy jumped as a wooden palisade sprung up around the tree in front of her. Spontaneity had worked! She’d started getting on!

Aomy’s shocked pause lasted long enough for it to count as continued procrastination in its own right, but she shrugged it off and face aglow with wonder continued her project. Several simple huts came into existence inside the makeshift barrier and Aomy deposited various crude bits of weaponry outside them.

She took a mental step back and admired her humble village. Two proto civilisations suffering due to monsters was apparently what it took for Aomy to learn her lesson and try to prevent the threat of the monsters before they struck.

Creating the gnomes with defences already set up was stage one of her plan. Stage two? Aomy looked down at the slab of metal with a big inviting red button on it. She hoped she wouldn’t need stage two. It was to be used in emergencies only.

With village made, it was time to make the gnomes themselves. This should have been a simple task, the knowledge each sapient needed, the providing of which took up the largest chunk of the hufolk’s creation, had already been made. Aomy planned to actually get Scientia to add the specific survival information needed for this country.

Not by choice, Aomy would rather rely on herself as it meant asking others for less, but Natururm hadn’t made the fauna of this forest yet, so Aomy physically couldn’t do that job right now. Still, it took a while for Aomy to force herself to bring gnomes into existence.

Doubts swirled and ideas endlessly iterated on themselves until they became contradictory and had to be removed. But, Aomy now had spontaneity on her side. Drawing upon its power once more, she waved her hand and created gnomes based on the rough image she had of them in her head

She wanted them to be small. Smaller than even the dwarves, and with that in mind created them roughly one quarter the size of a hufolk. She wanted them to be wild and creative, merry pranksters, like their best portrayals in Earth’s media and so, hoping their surroundings may influence their behaviour, she created them coloured every brightly coloured hue of the rainbow.

With skins of yellow, green, red, blue, even fluorescent pink, Aomy watched Excelsior’s latest sapient species emerge from their pre-made homes. Their hair was huge, chaotic and just as colourful as their bodies, most often appearing the colour opposite their skins on the colour wheel.

A lump rose in Aomy’s throat. So far, so good, the gnomes looked as she imagined them. But would they act how she hoped they’d act? So long as her convictions remained, that would be the role of the speeches to decide, and she hoped so god damn much that they’d be the good people she prayed they’d be.

The goddess of civilisations took a deep ineffectual calming breath which was cut short as she, startled, realised she was completely visible, framed perfectly within the gap in the palisade that marked the entrance to the village.

She quickly magicked herself invisible and began preparing to teleport away, when she stopped. She hadn’t seen her people in their first moments of life before. And she was in the area, why not take a look?

Hesitantly she poked her head into the village. It was strangely quiet in these first moments of existence. Several gnomes stared at their hands in awe and had Aomy read their minds she would have known they were simply wowed by the sheer concept of their own existence that had suddenly been thrust on them. Others stared up at the tree towering over them, amazed, as Aomy had been by its grandeur.

Not all seemed so taken in by their creation. Aomy watched a blue skinned ginger gnome stare at a spear left outside their hut. They gulped and began breathing heavily, prompting Aomy to almost do the same as her heart hurt for the gnome, whom she considered her responsibility.

Before fear could consume her, she was distracted by a commotion. A gnome’s head had snapped down from the tree she had been gazing up at to stare at a green skinned man with a great big, bright pink bushy beard.

“Ha! You look silly!” she cried.

The man took one look at his tormentor, a yellow skinned girl with purple hair bigger than she was, styled inexplicably like the leaves of a pineapple. “Ha! So do you!” he cried back

Internally Aomy was wincing at their comically stereotypical Irish accents. She must have done that by mistake, like with the dwarves. Still, they seemed a happy sort, which was a good sign. Their personalities were still forming, but already their appearances were having a positive effect on them.

“Ha! Wish I could see me!” cried purple hair.

“Ha! I wish I could see me too!” cried back pink beard.

“Ha!”

“Ha!”

“Ha!”

“HA!”

“HA!”

“HAAAAAA!”

Aomy could already see some of the grumpier gnomes looking mighty irritated by the pair’s antics, and if she was honest, Aomy was probably similar.

“I’m bored. We should do something” muttered green skin.

“Bored? Already? You’re just mad you lost the laugh off! Youuuuuu DOLT!” retorted yellow skin.

The male gnome’s hands flew to his heart in mock outrage. “I’m no dolt! Youuuuu-“ He paused, and went slightly cross-eyed.

“Not so quick witted are ya? Youuuuuuu DOLT!” the female gnome gleefully exclaimed.

“OH, THAT DOES IT!” With a yell, the target of much ire began to chase his fellow gnome round and round their villages great tree.

A mumble came from the blue skinned man Aomy had noticed earlier “If we must do something we should be productive. Prepare to fight monsters”

His two competing fellows cartoonishly slid to a halt and glanced at each other warily.

“Nay, I think not.” The first said, stroking his bushy beard wisely. “We have time ‘till night. If we’re to be productive I say we gather food!”

A great cheer rose up around camp and his partner in chaos nodded sagely. “Well said my friend, well said. Maybe you ain’t such a dolt after all. Youuuu…. Tlod.”

“I’m no-“ The gnome who would go on to name himself Tlod began to go bug-eyed again. “What does tlod mean?”

The gnome who would name herself Nincom for reasons that will make sense in the next paragraph smiled and kissed Tlod on the head. “Its dolt backwards. So, it means clever.” She grinned and turned to the crowd now assembled around her. “Now let’s get that bread!”

Another cheer consumed the camp, as Tlod turned to face Nincom “We’d need to grow wheat for that. Youuuuu nincompoop.”

Nincom grinned and clapped happily. “You did it! What a fun mockery!”

“Well, hurry up you two” a voice hesitantly interjected. The ginger dwarf of before gestured to the crowds of gnomes already storming out the village on the hunt for berries and meat. “Youuu clods” he added with a wry grin.

Squealing with delight, the trio joined the stampede of smallfolk making their way out their village and Aomy let out an incredibly audible sigh of relief, startling the hell out of the gnome that happened to be passing by.

They were just how she imagined them. Frivolous, yes. Good hearted, yes. And… Aomy’s golden face glowed brighter as she thought of how else she’d describe them. They were spontaneous. How appropriate! Reassured by all she saw she copied the rough design of the village and pasted it throughout the new landmass, each with a guardian tree, huts, weapons and gnomes.

Her face’s smile equivalent wavered. Now all that was left to do was the speech. But she could do that, couldn’t she? Although maybe she should check in on the other gnome villages, in case they weren’t successful. Or actually ask Scientia to update the sapient memory banks. Or maybe she should just rest. That pitiful amount of work had been pretty tiring.

Two hours into the walk she decided to go on, Aomy realised something.

‘God damnit! You’re procrastinating again!”