Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Arisen

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 digress.

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?

24 comments:

  1. Well, it's nice to know that you've got such a high opinion of me.

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  2. This is bullshit. And you're a dick. That's it.

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  3. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with being your favorite. Not that I want to be your least favorite either. Plus that first part is definitely about eating people, is no one else going to notice that?

    Maybe we can just....interact as little as possible. Deal? I'm sure you don't want me being all useless around you and I like my bones being inside my body. Win win.

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    1. Ask your "Mother." I have no say in the matter.

      Besides, I am not a PACIFIST. I do not KILL things ANYMORE. WHY would your bones be OUTSIDE your body. Not that this would be a bad thing, necessarily. Less of a chance for breakage, I think. Wouldn't want that delicious marrow going anywhere, now would we? No sirree.

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    2. *AM a Pacifist. Totally a Pacifist. Sorry, slip of the tongue. Old Habits die hard and all that.

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    3. She's not my mother.

      And you share Fracture's ability to be super unsettling with everything you say. But unlike him I get the feeling you try to be.

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    4. Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheh

      Me? No. Never.

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  4. Hey Dr. Kullifumpigous.. or however the fuck I spell that. I don't know anymore.

    Still not human I see. That sucks. You shouldn't be here. Did she pull you out of the Hall or did just kind of follow her out? Do you remember the Hall? Is that a spoiler?

    Its a shame all the same. I might just have to lay you to rest next time you die. You could use some peace, no? Maybe not. I hear you never were one to sit still.

    Either way, you count your age by years of consciousness. So if you can remember all that time spent dead, which it doesn't sound like you entirely do, then you should be able to go off your birthday still. Other wise you need math and shit.

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    1. I have exactly ZERO idea what you are talking about Kitty. Peace really does not suit me. HAHAHAHA. They will just keep BRINGING ME BACK, AGAIN AND AGAIN. HA.

      I guess... It really is not all that bad. Slavery aside, could be worse. I am willing to bet old Redlight is having a much more... Unpleasant time of it, than I am. As long as one is alive, they all are, but in what state are the old ones in? That is the question.

      Another one for you is this... We cannot be the only two that keep getting dragged out of hell like this. me and Redlight, I mean, I know there has got to be a first and all... But this shit has been happening for a long, long time... You know? Are there any others? Seems like something you would know, of all felines.

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    2. My case is unique. Rest assured, I can and will die. I just haven't yet.

      I do know there are others. But its very rare for a soul to be more valuable in this world then in the next world.

      The previous redlight might still be with us, since we sewed him into the fabric of reality to kill him, but not all of the older ones are. A soul can only endure as long as it's spirit does and in this world, unlike the next, all things decay and given enough time all things die.

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    3. Like I said Felix. I know YOU can die. I mean. I REALLY know you can die. Like... I know you can die PAINFULLY. Under Torture and shit. Not that anyone would ever DO that or anything, least of all little old me, but you know. You CAN die.

      ... HAHAHAHAHA. All things eh? Really now. Gonna give you one chance to rephrase that.

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    4. Morningstar, darling, we do not threaten our allies. Implicitly or otherwise, no matter how much we may dislike them.

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    5. I would NEVER threaten poor Sylvester. Besides, cats have nine lives. Would it REALLY be so bad if I... You know... Took 1 or 2... Or 8.... Heheheheheh.

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    6. All things star. Not even wrath is truly eternal. Besides, I'm not actually a cat and I don't have 9 lives. I just play one on TV. You've suffered through far more lives than I will.

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  5. Oh, you'd never lie. So, what's the real reason that you got dragged back into screwed up world? I thought we'd seen the last of you and your impeccable charm.

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    1. I think you answered your own question there, heheheheheh.

      What. You think there is some "HORRIBLE EVIL ULTERIOR MOTIVE" thing again? Nope. At least... Not that I know of. There are Certainly better people than me to bring back. Heheh.

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    2. Yes, I believe there has to be. There's always a catch if you're involved. I wonder how high your body count will be this time...

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    3. That depends on how soon I get to actually DO SHIT. DIPLOMACY is the word EVERYONE is SPEWING these days. I would just get back to doing Father's actual WILL, but whatever. The Leash is strong... But maybe not durable. Heh.

      You got me all wrong though. There usually is not a catch. I am not some special agent, usually. I am just a guy doing the world a favor. Glorified Pest Control, you know? I have a little fun with it, but at the end of the day, an exterminator is still an exterminator.

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    4. Well, diplomacy is much more productive.

      A favor? Right, because we all want to hire exterminators that eat the things they kill.

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    5. It also keeps us from doing what we are supposed to do. Diplomacy should stay the hell away from the Chosen.

      It gets rid of the corpses, doesn't it? Would you prefer to have them around?

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    6. I'd prefer there be no corpses to be taken care of in the first place.

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    7. Even I know that's impractical.

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