So, I want you to imagine being in a very deep sleep. The deepest sleep you have ever experienced. You remember, once, that you had a name, a purpose an identity... But none of it matters anymore. Because you are here. You are asleep. That infinite darkness is all that you care about, no more regrets, no more questions, no more wondering, and its gonna be that way forever. Just calm, safe. Quiet.
Then, all of a sudden, you get this... Little twinge of pain, coursing throughout your consciousness. You are hungry. You want to gnaw, you want to bite, you want to chew, gulp, slurp and devour. Soon you want to fill yourself up with the anything you can, because the hunger is unFUCKINGbearable. You feel around you, blindly, in soundless darkness. It is all you CAN do. So you crawl around and suddenly there is this... Familiar warmth. So familiar, like something out of a long forgotten dream, and not necessarily a good one. You feel something soft, at the center of the warmth, and there are... Vibrations coming from it. Like the beating of a drum.. Faster and faster. And at that point, the hunger overwhelms you and you taste something coppery and wet, as you envelop the warmth and make it a part of you. It feels SO Good. You aren't aware of time, or anything, so you do not know how long it takes to finish the morsel, but as the last wet puddle goes dry, you feel yourself, you own form, for the first time in ages. Arms, your head, a torso, and you can still hear the beating sound of drums enveloped in that succulent coppery warmth. You reach out those new arms of yours and you touch the ground, cold, hard and inedible. Slowly you drag yourself over to that second drum, feeling... No, BASKING in that long forgotten warmth... Ah... But you need MORE. The feast has barely just begun, and that appetizer has merely whet your appetite. You engulf this second writhing mass of wet, sweet liquid, tender meat and tough bone, and you feel yourself becoming whole once again. Legs, feet, toes and skin. In your hunger, you shove that succulent beating drum deep within yourself and hear its noise finally... Fall silent. Yet, there is one more still beating beside it... And something else farther away. You crawl on your half formed belly towards this final course of the feast, and gorge yourself on all the sweetbreads a body has to offer, finally gaining sight and sound once again.
You look down and see that slowly diminishing mass. That sagging sack of skin, as you take its innards into yourself. You can hear the muffled screams that are finally beginning to subside, behind a gag. Eeeeh. Disgusting. Cold, tasteless. You ignore it. You focus on the meal at hand, while your mind wanders and you remember who you are. As you remember, your body begins to mold itself back into place. Eyes that are blue, hair that is white-gold, skin that is pale and not shapeless black mass. You picture yourself as you were, in your clothes, your best tie, your favorite hat, the custom coat, pants and shirt/vest combo made just for you, so you can move around freely while still looking classy as hell. And your body shifts to give it all back to you, only its part of you now, as much as skin, eyes and the Azoth that forms your entire body. AND YOU LAUGH. HAHAHAHA. BECAUSE ITS BEEN SO LONG. SO FUCKING LONG.
And at the height of your elation, you notice that you have an audience. Brown hair and eyes, wearing her shitty red dress and hat, grinning and laughing at the sight before her. A fleshy little suit filled with delectable little organs, with the audacity to smile at me. But it wasn't just the act of smiling. Do you know how annoying that smile was? Like she watching a favorite pet eating a treat given by the master. Little did I fucking know at the time, that was exactly what was happening.
So what does this all mean? Well, I will tell you... Hey Gang. I'm BACK again. DID YOU MISS ME? Old Mishy must be SPINNING IN HER GRAVE by now. Heheheheheheheheh. Wonder how long it will last? But really, what does it matter? I am stuck here now, so I might as well take the opportunity to continue my... Mission, and serve Father.
Ah... I am not alone either. In fact, I now have a NEW little team of freaks and weirdos.
And I hate them.
First we have the bitch who resurrected me again, Cordelia. The Whore of Babylon herself. Our glorious leader, in the service of Father, and the bitch with my leash. I don't know how, exactly, but if I do not do EXACTLY what she tells me to, she can make me HURT. BAD. Which is fucking weird, given that she is not exactly a Crafter of any kind.
Then we have Jokes. Yes, that is his name and yes it is appropriate. But not because he is funny. Spineless shithead sycophant for the Bitch in the Red Dress herself. At least he is pretty fun to mess with. The same cannot be said for dear Vanguard, who I am not entirely convinced is anything more than a robot. Is he mute? I don't know. He has not said shit to me, which in some ways is a blessing, but makes him VERY boring in others. Miss Babylon sure picked a shitty right hand man. Aren't those typically supposed to talk, give ideas and generally do things beyond standing there like a statue?
We also have Gray, our newest little acquisition. A Coward, a pessimist, and completely useless at any task that might be helpful.
He is my favorite.
Not so much his occasional Split Personality, Kor. Who confuses the hell out of me. I didn't even think that was really a THING outside of Father's shenanigans. I would know. But evidently Kor's been around for a while, even before Father got involved with this sad sack of self-loathing.
The last notable, is... I don't even remember her fucking name. Screw her. Kleptomaniac bitch. Femme Arsène Lupin, basically, just without all likability. Gray compares her to Robin Hood. But Gray is a Moron. I miss my old team. They were competent. We got along well. They were not the most annoying, kill-worthy little shits I have ever met.
Ah... Right. This is supposed to be an introduction though, right? Back-story time? Get it out of the way? Fine. Sure. In case some of you morons don't know who I am, I am Morningstar. Professional trash disposal unit. I am... Well I mean. I died at age 19 I think. Or was it 20? Those were rough times. So... Do I count the birthdays I missed due to being dead? Fuck it. Doesn't matter. My history begins in the year 2011, if you know what is good for you. It was Winter' winter, and I had just tortured my Dear Mother and Father to death, messily. It was amateurish, honestly. I had quite the concept of pain at the time, you see, but I still had no idea how to inflict it EFFICIENTLY. Truth be told, torture is a lot of work. All these... Preparations. But the end result usually makes it all worth it.
I joined up with Father, He That Is, The Great Tall One, The Arbiter of the Black Woods, etc etc, and became one of his Chosen Proxies. I was taught how to do my job by a Proxy named Nightscream, who is... Sadly deceased... And I amassed a body count that would make some dictators blush, although apparently Miss Babylon wants me to be Gandhi or some shit now. Not that... All the bodies could be found. Heheheheheheheh. See, I developed a taste for human flesh, which makes me a favorite of Cleaning Teams within our little family. Then I died. Then I was brought back by an asshole, and imprinted on a few dozen Hollowed out shells. Then I came back for realsies and helped KILL THE ASSHOLE and his ASSHOLE friends. Then I got mind wiped and effectively erased from life again.
Now I'm back, and here to stay. I have TOTALLY turned over a new leaf guys. Promise. Pinky Swear. Cross my heart and hope to... Well. Oops. Heheheheheheh. No killing for little old me, oh no. Can't make the Cat angry, no sirree. Expect my posts to be SUNSHINE AND FRIGGEN RAINBOWS from now ON.
Would I lie?