Mira


I'm the monster. The bad twin. The one that struck fear into the hearts of those who thought of us. The one that was cold, and hungry. Tearing the throats out of passerbys without second thought. Many times, just to watch them bleed. See their eyes turn that hazy color that only the dead obtain. To inflict pain on everyone around me.

I am the reckless one. The angry one. The hated one.

Not to mistake her for not being feared. She tore through her fair share of corpses in her days as Vlad and Calypso. She's softer, but not soft. She'll spill plenty of blood... when she needs to.

She's the sensible one. The smart one. The good twin.

I'll be the monster that everyone hates. I'll be as malicious and terrible as I possibly can.

Because in contrast, she's an angel.

No matter what she does, at least she's not me. The trouble maker. The troubled one.

I'll kill those she can't bring herself to kill. Those that make her weak. She can hate me for it, because in the end...

I'm still that reminder screaming into her head of what she could've turned into... But didn't.

I am her warning to stay good.

I am what keeps her from herself, the darkest parts that course through our blood.

I am the monster she'll never be.




((OOC-- Monsters and non-monsters, feel free to join in on this thread. Little --or big-- secrets of your characters that are unlikely to be found out through play but you think is still wonderful insight to who your character is or why they are the way they are. Go ahead and join in!))

It was out of love for my King that I betrayed him.

He doesn't see it that way, and it's unlikely that he would understand. I know he thinks of me as a coward, for running to Vladimira for help. I understand why he would see it that way. At least, I do now.

The years spent as his loyal adviser and moral compass helped me better understand his mindset as I matured. Momentarily blinded by fear of the inevitable end, I ran. Not just to Mira, but I ran from him.

I knew he wouldn't take me back after what I did. I didn't blame him when I heard from others that he would likely want to see me dead.

It's been nearly 236 years since I ran from him. I was a coward. I am still a coward.

But little does he know, even the sheep can ask mercy from the wolf.

I was born defeated. No matter how much i've strived to move forward every step I've taken since the dawning of my existence was several steps back. Into past lives of long dead anscestors. No matter if their bodies keep moving. On the inside there's nothing but darkness. Born into a clan of murderers, thieves, and secret pacts with deities far beyond understanding. As a youth I was forcefed all the rules. Taught all the secrets, and raised to believe I was something special. An important piece to some grand scheme. But it was all shit, just lies and trickery. So in turning my back on the entities I was raised to stand for, the honor I was supposed to bring to my kin. They would brand me a traitor for attempting to carve out my own path. Little did I learn far too late that there is no "own" fate. It's all carved out before you by some unseen force predetermining your roads and final destination. I am nothing more than a runaway mongrel from a pack of fiends and scumbags. And in every step I've forced by weary legs to take, I've always strived to fix problems along the road. Playing some half baked attempt at heroism when it truth it's never been anything more than a representaion of my own self loathing. My mother held too much faith in me. My elder sister was always right about me. Chasing a selfish ideal of throwing everything aside to do "good" only to mask the terror of what I truly am. Fighting my own blood every step of the way. Because I'm afraid to be what I know I was always meant to be. I'm terrified of giving into the monster I'm beyond capable of being. I was meant to be. Even deities who stand against everything I was created to be couldn't save my soul. And I haven't the heart to admit it. Maybe I never had any heart to begin with. Reguardless the stepping stones of self sacrifice lead me astray from my own desires and dreams. Truth is, I hate me. I always have hated me. And I've been seeking my self destruction by my own accord, no one else's roads. But no road is mine. It's all just the same route a million others have walked before me. A predictable outcome in a dreary existence of blood, bile, and carnage. There's nothing left for me, there was nothing there for me to begin with. Just illusions of prize and glory, coated in self delusions of grandeur. Marked from day one to be a mindless thrall on the prowl for hearts. Infectous, a plague in the shell of a man. To help others used to feel validating, now it's only routine. So that's all there is to it. I'm a slave to a circular pie chart compiled of "this and that" Small inconsistence. Buried alive by my own hatred. But in the end, does saving others set me free from the horror of what I am? Not even close. It only goes to show I'm too scared of being what I am inside. It only proves I'm too much a coward to accept anything but the road of a martyr. Playing the hero is actually simple and easy when you've got nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. So I resume the never ending road of heroics, so I can strive to stop fearing myself. An ideal that's completely impossible to achieve.

My existence is a cesspool from limbo in itself, and I'm just a shadow of envy pouring on a canvas of derelict graveyards. Terror is only as strong as the coward you hold within yourself.

I know who Kai's daddy is. It's my daddy.

I overheard Mama talking to Daddy about it. I asked her if it was true and she told me it was.... She also told me not to tell him who his daddy is because something bad happened that would upset him. I don't like it when KaiKai is sad, I really don't.

I have to stop myself from calling him Big Brother, or something like that. I just call him Kai. Because Mama said so.

I don't know what happened, or why no one's telling Kai that my daddy is his daddy....

But it'll just have to be my little secret that I have a big brother.

The Gluttonous


Once upon a time I was an angel of the lord. A watcher, Gregori, A guardian. My charge? The one I was to protect. Well your world knows her by many names. Ardat Lilitu, Goddess of the dark moon, Queen mother of all demons that bold little lie of misconception built on the bricks of idealism of putting male gender over female. Not the ideal word father decided for humanity, the world humanity dictated for itself. But regardless most of you know her as Lilith. And I served day by day with the utmost faith. Unwavering loyalty to her, and that's never changed. Hell it never will. It never could. Paid my prices I did, sure as hell to see by the cinder scars on my wings. I was betrayed by the ignorance of humanity, and by my own lack of understanding. I never met god face to face, I never got the memo of the rules set before us. For what I had percieved as the path the all father wanted for us, it was nothing more than a lie. Humans.. Hah, humans aren't to blame. But they lay in the heart of the damage. In my path to stand by Lilith. To protect her from harm and ridicule Many a man grew to know my name. To call on me for protection, for insight. Once long ago I was all too happy to abide. What was it to be said? "Love man as you would me." God's word. Words of law. I served my best, gave my all. Before long a religion concocted itself around my very name, which transcribed itself as a farce. Named after the very entity which brought my species into existence. Ba'al. Lord. In that religion I had sinned, without knowing so at all. When humans prayed, when Humans called I came. I provided services to the best of my capabilities. And when I was charged, I was sentenced to damnation. My lover, my child's mother. She just watched... No words were exchanged. Only glances. She, the one of divination and prophecy. She could have cleared my name. She could have explained that I was only doing as I was instructed to do. To love and care for man to the very best of me. And what was my reward? My 'glory'? It was to burn. To fall. To reside in the depths of a forgeing pit of despair and suffering. Maybe the silence could have provided as a just punishment for my ignorance. But alas I was far from alone. Instead my seemingly permanent company would be him. The one who betrayed man from the very start. Samael. Satan. Fallen angel of death, scum of our kin. And so in gehinnom I sat to rot. Only to fight tooth and nail to survive against the very entity who brought sin to man. Did I deserve it? Hell no. I was punished for a lack of understanding. A lack of detailed instruction. But... I was so happy before. To watch people smile in their fortune. To grow and swell in their prayers. All I set out to do was help. And by helping, I lost everything. The day of my cursed departure I let so many down. Myself, my daughter, Lilith, god. I failed. I tried my best and It wasn't enough. And so the man named Lord became a demon in himself. Trapped buried below in a sulfurous pit with a true villian for company. And he brought all his spite, all his hatred down on me. Like I was to blame for his crimes. I wasn't like him then, but we aren't that much different now. It pains me to feel it, but oh how I do. In my very core I know, he and I are two of a kind. While he reveled in outwitting our father's favorites, I reveled in their praise. I still do. But not as the man called Lord. Not as the 'god' who answers prayers. But as a king. The king of indulgence. Ba'al became Beelzebub. Lord of the Flies. The masses of the mindless. Gluttony became my vice and virtues. And many a being followed my example. Swelling in their own bliss instead of 'father's love. Diving head first into every vice they craved, sacrificing everything for it. Down to their very immortal souls. Souls I and my associates use for currency. For once we were divine, now we are wretched. Feared loved and secretly desired. All man craves what we can give. And I'm still reveling in giving it to them. But never for fre any longer. There's a price to pay for your wants. And that price is my company and command. Now they sell themselves to me for simplistic unneeded enjoyments while they walk in the flesh. Only to beg for an escape once they're in my home. It's too late then, why beg for what you don't deserve. Why should you get what you want the entire time? You're not god. You're just a human. A false perception of god itself. And we're the wolves herding you sheep. With the anguish of betrayal flowing through us. We're all betrayed and abandoned down here. Burned wings and twisted halos. And in order to keep from being crushed by the emperor before us we keep the numbers flowing in, in deals built by words, blood and gifts. Run while you can. There's no saving you. Just as there was no saving me. No matter how much either of us deserved it or not. Mercy turned his blind eye. But gluttony hasn't.

Martyr
8.15.16


I hate her. Yet I don't. Her innocence is delicate, like a flower that I want to crush beneath my weathered boot. Yet something I can't help but admire her for.

Innocence was never something I acquired. Born of the blood of a murderer, a destroyer, a cretin. A dominator of man. Molag Bal.

The more I learn of her, the more it makes sense and perplexes me further at the same time. I've seen her take life, but the stench of evil laid heavy on his flesh. Even when she takes life of another, it's for a noble cause.

Her need to take care of everyone around her and hold nothing to herself. For herself. I don't understand, likely something I never will.

I'm selfish, I see something I want and I take it.

She's frustrating. She gets beneath my skin without even trying, by simply being her. She's the other side of a coin I'll never understand.

The good, the pure, the innocent.

I want to break her. Though that's hardly a secret, it's written on my face every time I look at her.

What isn't written on my face... is how I don't want to break her at all.

I killed my best friend, a man who loved me more than he could love himself, trying to save him.

I put him in the dark, alone, in a tank of salt water to break a bond that'd been laid on him by another.

And I listened to him thrash and scream and rage.

I listened, so sure I was doing the right thing, while he beat himself to death in the dark and alone.

I'm in love with a dead enemy.

I watched him turn a gun on my cousin, the only person in the world I have any real respect for, watched him force my cousin to take his shirt off, to take up a shovel, to dig his own grave.

I watched his face and knew without doubt that he intended to kill Mark.

...And still, I cried like a ***** when he died in my arms.

I love him, and I think probably I always will.
I know my family is waiting for me to mourn and move on, but the thing about that is...

I can't.
I won't.
I don't want to.

Because he's still here.
And I'm still his.

I was like a kid with a new toy. I'm always like that. Find someone, sleep with them, move on. Maybe return off and on out of the blue, but it was easier to just toss the used plaything back in the box and go onto the next one. Maybe it's why I instigated it. It was easy, we were there in the gym. I knew she was with Clarice, but that didn't matter. I wanted what I wanted and got it. A moment of pleasure and the knowledge that I stuck it to the woman who I never could get. The green eyed monster is real.

It didn't make me feel any better. Was it the tipping point? Could it have been? I was a bad, terrible friend. Could I even still call myself that? I still sit up at night thinking about it. What was going through her mind when she took that final step? Did she know I betrayed her trust? Her friendship? Or am I overthinking? Could it have been stress from her family - from her job? Maybe she never knew.. It's a good coping mechanism to play the doubter.

I miss her. I wish I could have pulled her aside instead and told her my feelings instead of sharing something as simple as carnal knowledge with someone else. The someone else that I fell for, that I still feel a phantom pain in my heart for, but still the same someone I grew afraid of - who I became angry toward. No wonder I'm sleeping alone more often than with another warm body beside me. I wish it could be easy to get back on the horse and move on like Peaches says.

I just want to say I'm sorry.

I only really have one secret. The others? I'd just shrug if someone found out about them. This one, I can't let get out. There's maybe one sole person who knows, and I don't even know why I told him.

Maybe I should explain something here. I'm a lion. A lycanthrope of sorts. My father is the alpha. He has a pride, a successful one. A bunch of misfits that make no sense together, but he brings them together.

He's not a bad man, he's the best man. He's loyal, loving and I won't deny being a daddy's girl. Even if I resent him a little bit... but that's my fault.

I hate that he steals my friends. Sleeps with them. They end up loving or adoring him, and I can't blame them for that. He's a good... no, amazing.. man. He treats each woman fairly in his pride and makes sure to keep time for each one. I've teased him about being a polygamous Mormon, but it's only light play.

But I can't go home. Not when every girl friend I make, every person that doesn't have something dangling between their legs either want him... or get him. They become a part of the pride, and you'd think that was a great thing... right? I'd think so too. But they're not there for me, they're there for him.

Arisou was the last straw for me. She was my best friend, my confidant, my favorite little raccoon dog. But... she met my father. Thought he was cute, and he slept with her. Now?... I still love her, we're still friends. But it's awkward now. I. Can't. Stop. Picturing. Him on top of her. And it makes me sick to my stomach.

And it's not their fault, neither of them. We're animals. It happens. And it's crappy, and I hate it. And I pretend everything's okay, that the fact that he sleeps with nearly every woman I bring home or make friends with.

But, again, it's my fault. Because I know that if I just open my mouth and tell him how I feel about it.. he would change. He would stop. Because I know he loves me that much. But I don't want to, I won't tell him. Because I know how much he loves me. I don't want him to think even for a second that anything he did.. or does... makes him a bad father to me. I love him far too much for that thought to even cross his mind. It would kill me to know or even fathom that he would think of himself that way. And if anyone even thought or accused him of being a bad father, I'd tear them apart with my own teeth. Because he's not.

I don't tell Arisou either. I don't tell anyone. Except that one guy. That one guy that asked me what was wrong while I was sitting there at the beach, that one guy that I don't understand why I care so much about him. And I spilled it like a glass of milk, and almost cried about it. Okay, I won't lie here. I did cry about it. Like a sobbing baby and he hugged me.

But I think the worst part? Is... I know I'm just like my father. But of the opposite effect. I can't keep a man. I can't keep male friends. I end up sleeping with them, and by morning I'm gone. Not just from their bed, but their town. I pack my shit, I pack my van, I cram my surfboard into the back and I'm off to look for the next big wave.

And that boy that I spilled my guts about my dad to? He's the only guy friend I have. And I might... I might love him. I don't know, it's a possibility. But I won't bring myself to go there. Even though I know he secretly wants to.

Because I'll hit it, and I'll run. I'll be gone by the morning, and I'll lose the only real friend I've ever had. One I don't have to worry about just trying to get into my pants or sleep with my father. And then I'll be more lost than I've ever been.

Because I can't stay here, but I can't go home. I am alone.

Not everyone gets happy endings...

Secrets? I parley most assuredly in secrets! A part of business with hunters yes? Secrets of beasts, secrets of trade, secrets of idiot people involved in idiot games. Lorent is privy to many, many secrets!

Not so secret with me though. Silly to be so stingy I say... and I do so say! Sunny is the spotless mind after all and good is soul not mired in shadows. A priest told me such once, an appeal to my conscious maybe? An entertaining sorts but kind of dry and preachy and all 'thou shalt not commit such a villainous act against a man of God as I!' or such. Pious sorts, am I right?

But secret... secret... hmm. Maybe that is secret in self, that Lorent holds no secret so lofty or so dear as to clip of wings and stuff in jealous heart, hmm? I am as open book ripe for the plucking though maybe best be wary of reading so freely. Just because a book is there does not mean one should read of such so carelessly for many a man has died from knowing too much after all.

They haunt me sometimes at night. That night down at the docks. I was driven mad and I lashed out at what I thought were... well they all looked like the same man.

Then next moment, the magic faded away, and sailors, workers lay bloody and bleeding. Dead.

I?m born from a legacy. Ezra Nettles Spencer. My father was a selfless man, and a kick ass hunter. He did what he had to. He came home. Then he?d go back out again?. Until one day he didn?t come back. All because he had to go back and get a toy for a child. All because there was a bomb that no one caught that went off just moments after he stepped into the building. He died a Martyr?. And he left me and my mother behind. To grieve, to mourn and hurt?..

I?m scared.

There?s so much being expected of me. So much that people have put on me, expect me to do. I? I can?t do it all. And being pregnant? having this precious little being growing inside me? It scares me. That some day, when she?s here and older that I may not come back home. I don?t want to die some wild death. I don?t want her to answer the door and be greeted by somber faced officers that will rip her world out from under her? I?m scared that someday soon, Sinestra or someone else is going to come after me. And that I?m going to get hurt in a way that causes me to lose my baby? I can?t? That scares me the most.

I scared of what people will think. Y?know. If they ever found out the truth, as to who Beanie?s father is. My mother already proved that it?s a bad idea. I don?t know what to do. I?m lost, floundering around for some kind of grasp on what to do. Zayden?s a mage. That?d be all fine and good, I?d get some frowns from Purity, but eh. Add in the fact that he?s a fugitive mage, and I?m a hunter? well things get complicated. I know I crossed a moral and ethical line there? but it?s so easy to forget. Zay has and always will be Zay. My partner in crime in everything, including parenthood. If he knew. If. But he?s still back on Tang, hopefully? still hiding and giving hunters a run for it. I know I shouldn?t hope for such, but god, I do.

I want everything I can?t have. I want to marry Zayden. I want to be with him for the rest of my existence, no matter how horribly short it may be. I want to raise our baby with him, To have a family and be happy. I want to live and experience everything that I can?t. Because my society thinks making a mistake means you are a bad person? That you have to be hunted down like some monster. Cuffed and stuck in a cage with others much much worse than you. Or Lobotomized. Parts of their brains taken out. It changes them, make them not themselves any more.

There are monsters out there. I?ve encountered a few. Fought with them. Captured them and removed them from menacing others?. But I still glance over my shoulder every five seconds. Because I know what could be lurking in the shadows. Because I have made enemies. Because I have pissed people off, and poured over book after book of knowledge of beasts, fantastical or not.

I?m a bad daughter. Or at least I think I am. My mother blew up on me. Said some hurtful things. She keeps calling, but I won?t answer. I can?t answer. Because all of my anger at her and her words will explode, and I don?t want to say the hurtful things on my mind like she did. I don?t want to be that daughter. I?ve always tried to be the best?. But I don?t think I?m the greatest at it. I make her worry. I make her panic. I know I make her angry and sad, and everything in between. Hell, I punched her sister and ruined her birthday party. I was pretty miserable the whole trip home.

Maybe I?m a bad girlfriend too. Don?t get me wrong. I adore Jack. I care about him way more than intended to when I first agreed to be his girlfriend. So much more. Being with has been different in the least. I care about him so much, but I can?t help but to wish for Zayden.

A bad hunter? because nothing can ever go smoothly when I do something. I always mess it up. I hope someday messing up doesn?t kill me.

I?m a bad everything.

But damnit, I?m trying.

I?m trying. I?m trying. I?m trying.

Fear

I'd never felt fear before until I came back. If I could sum up what I was with the Filth coursing through my veins, it was the Hulk meets Venom. I was powerful with Erebus' blood coursing through me. Unbelievably, invincibly strong. Hardly anything could take me down. At least until my past came back to pop a cap in my ass with the Peacemaker. Yeah. It fucking blew. But it was that bittersweet nothingness. No Heaven, No Hell, No Purgatory, No Limbo, No fucking Cold Harbor and all it's bullshit. It was ceasing to exist when my haunting past pulled that trigger. And it was easy to die.

But now? I'm feeling shit I haven't felt since... hell. When was the last time I've felt anything? I don't even remember. I think the last time I remember feeling jack shit I was 7. Before my Mom-ster did me in with her psychology torture. It's a confusing mess, and I don't know how to handle it. Control. I need control. It's been my biggest obsession because through all the shit my mom tinkered in my head and turned me into a ruthless, sociopathic killer, the little bit of shit I could control... I obsessed over it. I was the best to control the Filth. Unlike the others that just controlled it, I let it consume me. I fell to the bottom of that black well of corruption, and I dug my way out and took my mind back. I did it on purpose. Erebus was proud of me, I was one of his favorites.

But now? I'm a squishy meat sack that can't even control his temper, has panic attacks over stupid shit that makes me feel something. And allergies! Fucks sake, I have allergies now! Dust bunnies are going to be the death of me all over again. But that's not the point.

I can handle all that shit. I can deal, and I can regain control... over time. But what am I feeling that's making this whole thing my newest living hell? Fear. Fuckin' fear. And it's not that kinda fear of dying. I'm not scared to die again, I know exactly where I'm going. I've already been there once. It's not the night terrors that have been waking me up at the ass crack of dawn, memories and regrets of everyone I've killed... the innocents I've slain just because... well, just because I fucking wanted to. It's not about Lisa, the girl I manipulated and played with like my own psychology project and ultimately destroyed her. It's not Shino, who I think I may have actually had feelings for, my psychologist after I killed Lisa. Pulled some Harley Quinn and the Joker shit with that, got that bitch wrapped around my finger, and I fucked her up, ruined her promising career. All for selfish reasons and my own twisted curiosity. But that shit's in the past. It's shit I can't even begin to make up for. It's not about how I ditched Wednesday in Cold Harbor, left her behind like she never mattered at all. Or about Kitra... the bitch who's life I stole, broke and wiped my ass on left and right. Her family I killed. The way I see it, Wednesday and Kitra took their vengeance by taking me down at my strongest point. They earned their peace with that bullet.

Everything I've faced. Everything I've fucking been through, every terrifying, twisted, malicious thing I've seen with my own two eyes in the deepest parts of Hell and Apocrypha.

It's one fucking idiot of a rogue that's kicked me right in fear's ass. I mean, if you can really call her a rogue. She's ridiculous, and clumsy, and not all that sly. But even when I was at my worst, when everyone else feared me... or at least feared me on principle... she never did. She looked me in my ugly, Venom Filth creature face and told me "I'm not afraid of you." And dammit if that didn't feel good. She tested me, tested my patience, angered me in ways I never thought I could feel when I was a sociopath.

That scrawny, sickly, anorexic little fucking thing got me good. She pulled one over on me, got me to marry her when we went all Freaky Friday on shit. Flat out wasted, and I went and married her. What I thought was hilarious, and I could've easily gotten out of it by telling her that she married Kitra, not even me. But I didn't, like everything else, I rolled with it. I played husband... and then I became it. I stopped fucking playing the game, and I fell into the role. And the worst part... it was so easy. She... made it so easy. I have no damn explanation for half the shit I went along with when it came to her.

She puts up with my shit, and I don't even know why. I wouldn't... I'd have kicked my curly ass out on the streets and dropped a television on my head from three stories high at this point. But she deals with my shit, puts me in my place, and makes me feel.


But that's not just it. There was a moment, a single moment where I felt my world come crashing down. It was a stupid risk, and damn stupid risk. I don't know if she was just wasted, or what the hell was going on. But.. she told me she loved me. I wasn't looking her in the eyes, the Ko-ala bitch was playing spider monkey on my back. I don't know if she was lying, or drunk... I hope she was just drunk... But she said those three words. Three words that my mother had implanted in my head. Those three words that my fucked up, trauma induced brain knew when to flip the switch, black me out and put a bullet between anyone's eyes who said them. Didn't matter who it was.. My mother.. Lisa.. Shino.. It all came crashing down when she said it.

I love you. Three words that can set me off and make me kill anybody. Whatever that psionic bitch, Abby, did to fix my brain when she brought me back, apparently fixed that too. I didn't kill her. But anxiety and panic gang banged me in that moment. That overwhelming fear that I was going to kill her. In public. At Booze Fest of all places. I thought like Lisa and Shino, I was going to put the barrel of a gun between her eyes and pull the trigger, against my own will and without memory of ever doing so. Fear bent me over a table and rammed me up the ass in that moment.

My biggest fear isn't just killing her, it's losing her in general. Like a hot poker to the gut, everytime I think about her walking out that damn door, or being a fucking idiot like I know she can be and getting herself killed... Even worse... Me being the one to kill her indirectly or directly. --Let's face it, I've pissed off a lot of wrong people.-- But losing her at all makes me sick, spikes up that anxiety. I don't know what it means. I hope she didn't mean it when she said it, which is pretty fucking back assed, because I hope to every god and goddess out there that she DID mean it. I don't know what I feel. I don't know what love feels like. The closest I got was Shino, but with that dumb ass wife... girlfriend... I don't even know... it's multiplied by a good handful.

Do I love her? Do I even know what it feels like? Would I know what it feels like? I feel like it could beat me in the face with a shovel, asking me over and over again "WHAT DO I FEEL LIKE, BITCH?" and the only response I'd give back with my dumb ass is "lol idk"...

I've been told that love is the best and worst thing to feel. That it's like getting punched and laid at the same time. It's bittersweet and it's frustrating, but it's also pretty great. If that's what love is... I don't know. Maybe that is what I feel for that idiot. But I don't know if I want to tell her that. Because even though losing her would probably kill me more than I'd ever been dead.. inside and out... She still has a chance to get out. Before I get her killed, before I make her lose her shit like I did to Lisa... the hell am I talking about. I already fucked her up bad. I didn't see it until I came back.. but I screwed that girl's head up. Though I hope she'll be smart. I don't want her to be. It's selfish and stupid, I know. But everytime I'm sitting there... watching her sleep like a twisted little angel beside me, I keep thinking Get out while you still can.. and swallow that nasty fucking lump in my throat every time I picture her walking out that door.

I don't know how I feel. If it is love, it probably won't be a secret. I might tell her one day. But I'll never tell her how much I'm stomach-churning, gut-wrenching, poker-to-the-eye terrified of that day that she finally comes to her senses and leaves, or that day being associated with me gets her killed.

Alright. That's fucking long enough. I've spilled enough of my guts like a dirty nun in confessional. I'm done rambling like a bitch.

Oh. And I do love that fluffy mutt, Zim... But I'm pretty sure that's not even a secret at this point.

I'm not dead...

I just don't know where I am...

It's so dark. So cold.

But my skin burns...

I can't move my arms or legs...

Someone please help me...

Whether or not you choose to admit something to yourself doesn?t change what is.

In this world, there are the laws that politicians make. Those are for some people, but not me. My rules are the Ponyatiya, established by the vory. The rules of thieves. Unwritten, but known to all, they separate the petty from the elite. I?m not some common street punk, some wayward son looking for his place. I am the best. If someone has enough money, or influence, they ask for The Raven. As soon as that happens, it?s as good as over for the poor soul in my sights.

In this life, any sort of connection is a weakness. Any leverage against you will be used. I?m not saying I don?t like things. What?s the use of the money if I don?t wear nice clothes, drive a nice car, and live well? But take all that away and I?m still me. You can?t hurt me that way.

Except her. I?m not supposed to love her. Somewhere, sometime since I saw her that first day in Amiens, she stopped being a way to relax and amuse and pass the time. She became more. So much more.

Killing is not a job, it?s who I am. I get paid to do it. It?s never done carelessly, never emotionally. But I would kill anyone for her.

Whether or not you choose to admit something to yourself doesn?t change what is.

I have many secrets. Too many to list off, really. Comes with the territory...

I also have many things that I believe to be secret, but people know. I'm a terrible rogue. Sure, I've got fast hands and can steal without even putting much thought into it. I'm also a loud-mouthed drunk with a bad attitude and a fear of loving.

I had it before Gerry, and it's only gotten worse since he left my life.

I might love Zver, though. I don't know, things are confusing... I know that I don't want to be with anyone else.

I know that when he died, it was worse than when Gerry left me.

Is he the love of my life? Who knows? I wish I could answer that and make some big reveal, but I don't know. I just don't know...

I know that I never want to leave his side.

Even when he was a murderer, I wanted to stay alongside him. Life is strange and love is confusing.

I killed Jameson.

But that's not the secret.

I liked it.

I've got more secrets than I can count. My entire life is a secret. I'm a secret. Where would I even start?

First things first, my name isn't Trypp. I remember everything before I died all those years ago, was turned into a Gluttony demon.

My name was Kaze. I was a shinobi. I was one of the best in my clan, save for my brother. I was an assassin. I killed more people than I can even count, and most people wouldn't think so of me. I was the nice guy, the oblivious guy. Hell, most of the time, I didn't even know when a woman was coming onto me. Things like that just went over my head completely.

I was young, and naive. Sure, I was a killer but that came with the territory of what I was, the clan I grew up in. I was born to be a killer.

I lost that outward innocence when I became a Nightingale of the theives guild. I was one of the highest ranks in the London division. With me and a few others, like Keeley, Zack, Merric. Run by The Silver Fox, the guild was his, passed down from generation to generation. We followed Nocturnal, the enigma goddess. Also known by Nyx to those from Midgard.

I stole, I killed, I played informant. I was successful.

Then I died.

And the real secrets started. Bael... Beelzebub... whatever you want to call him. King of the Crossroads, Archdemon of Gluttony. He knew who I was by the time I showed up. He had every little secret of mine down in a manilla folder. And the secrets never stopped. He didn't want the other Archtypes to know how useful I was.

Also, something that isn't known about me. I wasn't tortured to become a demon. Bael doesn't tell the others, because frankly, it would strike up a whole lot of questions. Suspicions. And a whole lot of other demons would be pissed. I guess he didn't want me to change.

I guess what it comes down to, all my life... On the outside, I look lazy. I eat too much chocolate. I smoke too many cigarettes. I look like I'm not worth a dime.

But beneath the ploy, I am and was their biggest playing card.

And no one will never know about it.
....

And out of everything I just said. What is the truth and what is fabricated?

At this point, it's hard to tell what's a lie and what's not.

There might be a short chunk of time unaccounted for in that journal I got rid of. And I might have left it out intentionally.

You didn't hear this from me, and if you tell anyone I told you this I'll break your damned jaw.

All right, so... back when I was younger, one of my friends had some device he used to scan me, to try to figure out a way to regain my lost memories. The best he could do was tell me I had the genetic marks of a clone. He said some parts looked like typical clone soldier fare he'd seen on other worlds, some bits were experimental technologies, but the parts that confused him seemed to be geared towards... breeding. The closest he'd seen to it before was in clones used as biological weapons. But that's not really my story, just sort of a setup. A preface to my tangent, if you will.

So a few years ago when I was heading up the east coast, I hit a small town of maybe fifty people. I had only planned on staying the night, so I stopped in at the pub for a drink and to ask about an inn. The place was pretty packed for the middle of the day... During my conversation with the bartender, I started to feel like something was a little... off. I looked over my shoulder, and realized that I was the only male in the place. Yeah, I know. I was tired, it had been a long couple days. So when I asked about the town, the bartender told me that it used to be a thriving port town until a few decades ago when the ocean and land had soured. It was still a nice town, they just couldn't fish or farm anymore. It was almost completely abandoned until one woman took over the manor near the center of town and turned it into a brothel, and took over the town. Under her rules the place was only to be occupied by her employees, so every citizen of the town was a woman and every woman worked two jobs: the brothel, and whatever other function they served outside of it, be it police, supply, sanitation, etcetera. The system seemed to work here.

The town became a popular tourist stop, but they closed everything down for one month every year. I just happened to be there during that month, and I was out of luck. I went to the authorities to ask if they had any bounties I could look into, maybe in exchange for a bed for the night. Their captain had one for me... a deadbeat scumbag that ran a pack of bandits who had beaten some of the girls pretty badly and messed up the brothel about a month earlier. I took it. It had been a while since my last job.

Their hideout was easy enough to find in the next town over, and they all scattered when they saw me backhand their boss halfway across the room out a third-story window onto a wrought-iron fence. It was messy but it got the point across. I left his body on the fence as a message and took his head back to the captain. She took me to the headmistress mayor, who was quite grateful.

As payment she offered me what you would expect. Now... I'd received this type of offer before, and they were the only cases that I ever really tried to renegotiate payment. My terms were simple... that every girl not working at the time I stepped through the door was part of the deal. What's that look for? Come on, I'm a man aren't I? A man can dream! Whatever. Anyway. This was the only time I would get greedy, though I never really expected any of them to agree to it. And they didn't. They'd argue that they couldn't afford the money they'd lose, and talk me down to one or two extra. That was more than enough for me. What?

Well... as soon as I saw that smile on her face I knew I was in trouble. She had me follow her outside, to the bell in the center of town. She rang it, and every single woman in town dropped what they were doing and came out. They stood around us in a circle, and for a minute I thought I was gonna have to fight my way out. That would have been easier. But no, she announced everything to them, and... agreed to my terms.

I only planned on staying a night. I was there for a week. Some of them let me sleep, eat, go to the bathroom. Some wouldn't, they just wanted to get back to their month off. And their boss wouldn't let me leave until I'd been "paid in full."

Soon as I had been, she told me to get dressed, and kicked me out into the night. As I hobbled west out of town, I decided not to try to renegotiate payments again. And accept only cash.

Why did I leave that out of the journal? Oh yeah. So... *sigh* ...a couple years ago I was out on the west coast, another town, another pub. I overheard a couple guys talking about this place out east, a whole town that had been abandoned. The place had one employer, and that employer had to shut down. Why? Well... apparently... almost every single one of their employees had... gotten pregnant at the same time. Crazy, right?

It's probably just a coincidence.

I need another drink.

I have done awful things.

I don?t feel things. My father beat that out of me when I was very young. I know emotions through my power, but I can?t feel most of them. It?s easy to fake them. I definitely can?t feel pain. I was tortured my entire childhood until I was completely numb to it.

I tortured Martyr, my half-sister. I forced her to hurt her friends, I attacked her, convinced her that she was worthless. I?ve hurt her in ways that she doesn?t even know.

Even through all of that. She was kind to me, and I hated her more for it. I have trouble feeling hungry, and she feels?everything. Twice as hard as anyone else. She has it all. My father wants her more than he wants me. I don?t even think that he really cares that I switch sides and left him.

I was alone. Solaris didn?t want me spending time with people. The closest thing I had to a friend was what?s-his-name? My axe. He was always with me. I can hardly remember when he was actually a person. I just remember we?d spent time together before Solaris sealed him away, locked him in his weapon form prematurely.

I can remember feeling angry about it, sad, maybe heartbroken? It was the first time I stood up to Solaris. It didn?t end well? I was locked away for a month and now I can?t remember why it hurt me, or what it really felt like. After that he was just?my axe.

Nero was his name. I was awful to him. I think some part of me resented him for the punishment I got when I stood up for him.

Maybe I should?ve fought harder for him. Maybe then he?d have a half decent shot of being a normal person. The spiteful part of me doesn?t want that though. Why should he get to be normal when I?m so screwed up? It was his fault for trying to be my friend.

It doesn?t matter. Solaris would?ve never allowed it. He?s just another person screwed up by Solaris. Another statistic.

Solaris will probably kill me without a second thought. As screwed up as I am, he?s worse. He?s done horrible things to people, and hurt them in ways I can?t even imagine. I was never supposed to, but I looked into his eyes, and I know things I shouldn?t. It was right before I switched sides to Martyr and I saw things... I want to say that it was why I switched sides, but? I can?t. I?m hopeless.

Cyprian?

He?s my brother? I?ve never met him. We?re twins, but we were kept apart. Solaris took great lengths to make sure we never knew about one another. Males of my race are pretty rare, and their abilities are more powerful. Needless to say, Solaris was delighted to have a son. He couldn?t control him the way that he controlled me, though. Especially when he found out about me. Solaris told him he was going to take me away from him. He never got the chance. Solaris buried him alive. Cyprian wanted to help me, and look what happened to him.

What an idiot.

I?ve stood by and let Solaris do awful things. What?s worse? I helped him. I broke Martyr down. I nearly killed Emlen?s wife. I?ve succeeded in killing countless people. I made Nero help me?

My secret is that I?m not sorry.

I?m not sorry for my contribution to ruining Nero. I?m only sorry that he got freed and he?s not mine anymore. I?m not sorry for what I did to Minoko, or Martyr, or Emlen?

If it seemed like I was on the losing side, I?d jump ship in a heartbeat if Solaris would take me back. I?d ruin Nero all over again.

I should be sorry. I?m not.

I hate Solaris?

And I?m just like him.

The shadows took me when I was a child. Hundreds of years have passed since then and I have only grown more powerful. Few have seen my true form, and many of them that have, perished soon after. Nobody has heard my voice above a whisper since.

I am the oldest of my kind, the Umbra.

Umbra breed in deals. They offer humans or something of the like a deal. We seek those who seek power, and we give it to them at a grave price. The more they use it, the more it consumes them. It starts with a single shadow on the skin, a dark tattoo on the palm of a hand. I?ve yet to meet someone able to resist the call of the power, eventually it consumes them and they become a slave to the Magna.

The Magna is the ruler of my race. It is a sentient Umbra. To become the Magna, you have to kill the previous. Only then will you get complete control of the shadows that have consumed you. There are other sentient Umbra by the grace of some magic, that will have no choice but to bend to the Magna?s will upon command.

I am The Magna.

I was made a monster when I was just a child, a deal was made for my soul when I was no more than a juvenile and it took very little effort of me to wipe out my Magna.

The shadows took my name and everything that I was or could be.

Since, I have made many deals to benefit one man; Solaris Slane.

That is my story.

And my secret?

I am his daughter.

....I died.?

?I died the same day my mother died.

Sunday, June nineteenth, the year twenty-sixteen.

It was Father's day. We had dinner reservations at some fancy restaurant.

Hah. Go imagine. I don?t even know who my father is. But he?s a demon. Apart from Gothrak every other demon?s been a nightmare. No thank you. I can be fatherless for the rest of my existence, and be happy.

I went for Terry, who so desperately wanted things to be the way they had been before Beleth.

I went for my mother, who had nightmares of being beaten, of being tortured by the very face that Terry wore. Because of Beleth.

If she could be strong enough to give Terry a second chance, I could be strong enough to be there. Despite the fact that Terry wasn't my father. Despite the fact that he could have been so, in all the ways that counted. But then Beleth ruined things.

I went for my brother, who had so desperately needed a father figure growing up, and didn't have a proper one. Because of Beleth.

I went because Terry and Rinn both deserved that second chance.

I should have never taken that shortcut. Through the alley. I should... have gone the safe way. We just would have been late. Was it really so damned important to get there on time?

If things had happened different, would we both have died that night?

Would I have had to of listened as my mother lay bleeding to death again? Again?

Just like with Imogen, I was helpless. I even tried to heal her. Everything I had left in me I fueled into her, tried to heal. I was so helpless. He blinded me, and I couldn't do anything. Anything but bleed, stumble around like a useless idiot, and listen as both of us died.

Because of Beleth. Everything is because of that FRACKING demon. He ruined everything. He killed both Imogen and Meredith. Both of my mothers. Gone.

He almost managed to kill Rinn.

He's gone. Gone gone gone. I didn't even get the satisfaction of killing him. No. Hah. Instead I laid dying. I fought. I fought so hard to cling on to life. I tried. I had to. But.... I didn't try hard enough. I died on the operating table as a whole emergency team raced against the clock to keep just that from happening.

Gothrak lost himself. He lost me, and then he lost himself. Destruction and death ensued. People at the hospital died. It was close to a massacre, from what I?ve read. From time to time I still see notices up about him and the incident. I burn every one. I burn a lot of things these days. But I'm smarter about it. Old buildings in West End, make sure they're empty before hand. I don't want to kill someone by accident again.

I'm not going to lose anyone else. I'm not, because I can't deal with this guilt. The guilt that eats you up slowly on the inside because you know things could have happened in such a better way. If I hadn't been blindsided, if I had been vigilant, if this, if that. I can't.... I can't have anyone else die because of me. I can't. I will get stronger, and I will protect the people left that I care about fiercely.

I was nothing. For so long I was nothing but insubstantial. Not many people could see me. Rinn was a mess... Things got better when he realized I was still here. Just a little more difficult to hear and see. Insubstantial. A ghost. Taneth and him... well they put together a plan... and it brought me back. I'm here, breathing and living, and I feel like I don't deserve it. What did I do to deserve it? How have I touched people in such a way that they would go to such lengths to have me back?

I need to find a way to sleep. I need to stop waking up, screaming in terror. Of reliving every horrible moment of that....yeah. That. Always with the terror in the pit of my stomach, the racing heart. The yelp that my mother gave. And blood. There?s always so much blood and I can?t ever make it stop.

I need to pull it together. I need to. I don?t want Rinn to see me fall apart. I don?t want anyone to see me fall apart.

Nobody's really noticed? I think, but my hands keep on shaking. I think it's kind of gotten worse. I don't know. It's hard to tell. I keep dropping things, my fingers don't want to cooperate. Sometimes... I swear to the gods I keep seeing shadows in my vision... Sometimes everything gets blurry and I can't see shit. Sometimes it lasts for hours, and all I can do is lay wherever and try not to cry because it reminds me of that terrifying desperate suffocating feeling of helplessness that I felt as I stumbled around and listened to my mother drown to death on her own blood. Sometimes I wonder if my vision isn't going to return, if I'm going to be stuck in that haze for the rest of my time.

Sometimes I wonder how I'm ever gonna manage to be okay again. I feel like a bunch of broken bits and pieces stuffed together to make one hardly functioning being. I feel like the littlest thing can make me fall apart.

I need to figure out how to stop being so broken.... but how do you stop being something you've been your whole life?

Heroics are gratifying aren't they?
Spending lifetimes playing hero for my little sister wasn't really all that bad. Especially when no one was around to bitch at me for the stupid things I did to protect her. Harboring a mask isn't so bad when no one takes the time to look behind it. It's all pretty quaint when everyone you know views you as a non caring face with an insatiable appetite for physical temptations and common fights. It's not so bad being everyone's little secret mistress. Playing on their pleasure points while listening to all the little secrets no one wants the public eye to see. It's not so bad being the black sheep. Being the freak of a family of freaks makes you the truly normal one after all, doesn't it?


It's always worse under the surface
It's pretty messed up when you sacrifice your body and self respect for the sake of defending someone who's too naive to realize they're in danger. I gave myself to a murderer in exchange to protect my little sister from his demented little brother. Witnessing the lust in his eyes I couldn't bear to let him have what he wanted. It's pretty messed up when the mask you bear becomes your reason to breathe. I spent decades slaughtering all manner of creatures to prove myself worthy in the eyes of destruction. Innocents, misrepresented creatures, and grandeur dragons. Assassins and thieves, drunks and holy monks. It's pretty messed up when you spend so much time down on your knees that having yourself bent over a table being drilled in the wrong hole becomes a refreshing change of pace, despite hurting like no tomorrow. When you get so used to having someone inside you that it feels strange when you don't. It's pretty messed up when your entire family never knows who you really are. When your reality is built upon secrets and lies that not a single person you know and care for has ever known that your entire existence is nothing but pain and regrets. When the man who made you is the one you want to see dead more than any of those who hurt you. When by simply existing, you know you're the only disgrace your mother has ever had in her life. It's pretty messed up when you're the type of person that if you were to ever tell the truth, you know you'd only drag everyone else down with you.

"Daddy" Issues

It's pretty common right? "daddy didn't love me enough" "Daddy wasn't there" "Daddy doesn't care". So what happens when "daddy" is a fallen angel concocting lab experiments in hell, playing god himself? Well I'll tell you. I was created in a vial, made from spit and blood. They say Alchemy cannot truly make a successful being. Instead you get a homunculus. False life. Completely soulless. Well, I'm an exception. Who'd have thought Bael was genius enough to successfully make a brand new being out of simple DNA? Maybe that was his biggest downfall. I am technically Lilim. A daughter of Lilith. But I am not by birth, only by birthright. Raised on pride and dedication. Dedication that didn't last. For a time Bael, my father more or less, I was a star in his eyes. Perfect. An immaculate success in his drive to create. But that all changed after a few years. When Lilith birthed another. Kokabiel, my baby sister. And like always she was precious to Bael. If someone didn't know any better they'd most likely think Bael was in love with Lilith. Obsessing over her children as if they were his own flesh and blood. And in her newfound innocent life I was easily put on the back burner. Though I didn't mind. That was my baby sister. And I loved her, still do. There isn't a thing I wouldn't do, wouldn't sacrifice.. Wouldn't kill for her. For a time things were fine. Until the doors to Wrath made their way open once more. Wrath, the final of the nine hells not a damn soul would care to mention or even think of. Deep inside were the worst of the worst. And all under the control of him... Samael. Satan. The being who for some reason pined in his bitterness ver mother like no tomorrow. I guess for him the one who got away. Or maybe it was jealousy over Asmodai, lord of Lust. For whatever reason he couldn't get enough of trying to hurt mother by any means necessary. And one faithful day he seized an opportunity I'll never forget. While all was focused on the new girl, little Kokabiel, the one who would soon be known as "The Angel of Seduction", I was left in the wake. Exposed. He sought his way at Mother that day, through me. Sometimes there are crimes so atrocious they're completely unspeakable. Those crimes were cast upon me. Even in my own pride I can admit I held no quarter when it came to the immense power of the king of Malice. Didn't even stand a chance. And so he had his way with me, in numerous ways that I couldn't explain even if I wanted to. But his intentions... They were never as direct as his actions. The internal wounds don't heal. They tear at me every single day. Back then, I blamed Bael. He should have protected me. His daughter, his creation. Today I do not. But the curse of Malice isn't so easily dismissed. And although I do not blame him for not being there to save me, I can't let go of the hate. Instead throughout time I sought destruction. I sought to make him pay by destroying myself. Gave myself over to Abaddon, Queen of destruction. Learned her ways, became her prized protege. And oh how much wrong I had to do to prove myself worthy, sins staining my hands that will never wash off. But that's not even the half of it. Throughout the decades, no... Centuries.. I've subjected myself to various monstrosities and atrocities to not only force Bael's attention, but to torment his already heavy heart over and over. And I can't stop. I HAVE to hurt him, he NEEDS to pay for leaving me to suffer. These wounds that continue to fester are on my hands, And I know it. But they're also on his conscious, or whatever remains of it. And why? Because I'm sick. Samael infected me with his influence. Exactly what I now know he intended to begin with. For what I thought was an attempt to hurt my mother was a ruse. The pain he intended to inflict was to Bael, using me as the unwitting weapon to do so. And he's succeeded. All because Bael stole away his precious pet Na'amah. You see, Bael doesn't know I know. That he can't be content. Not because he's the lord of gluttony. But because he can't have his precious angel lover who left him for dead in the depths of hell. And I... I'm too far gone to stop making his pain worse. My sickness.. I draw pleasure in watching him writhe. Watching him drink away his days. I'll never stop, I can't stop. Not until he's a completely broken as me. Not until he admits he failed me.

I have a crush on Mordekai

Hesitation.

Sometimes it?s awful. Like a breath before a kiss? Or eyes to the ceiling before an important question is answered. Sometimes, it can mean the absolute worst in somebody. It can confirm your deepest insecurities; and it can mean the end of something great. Hesitation could mean the difference between life, and death?and it could get you killed.

But not always.

Sometimes hesitation?can be the difference between humanity and a monstrosity. Sometimes, it can be something beautiful. It can make you see things in someone you?d never thought you?d see.

And sometimes?

It can be both.

When Daemien hesitated on turning Daphne?and then didn?t go through with forcing her, I had that revelation. I have been struggling with Dae for a while now. Like a moody teenage girl, one day I like him, the other I don?t. Have you ever met someone who can make your stomach flip and your blood boil all in the same breath? That?s Daemien. He makes me so angry sometimes. Other times I?m with him, and I can?t stop laughing.

What?s wrong with me?

No, seriously. What the hell is wrong with me?

I?ve never been that kind of woman. Never been the type to read too much into things. To think too much about a single person. With him it seems as if every thought circles back to him. Seems like even when I walk away, I picture his stupid thinned out eyes and that smirk. That ****ing smirk. Then I smile? I hate that he does that to me.

So why do I love him?

Oh god, I love him.

What in the hell is wrong with me?





I don't think that anything good can come of this...

Blind devotion

It wasn't ever a secret that I've always admired Dae. But at the same time it was, thanks to the blind misconceptions of who I am and what I do. Well,
maybe they aren't so blind. But I could never control my needs. They call people like me breeder, and breeding is exactly what we do. Never staying still,
never settling down, always making copies, all the freaking time.
And I never cared about anyone, they were always just a means to an end,
heat of the moment. Right anatomy, right time, right place.
But never Dae, not that I didn't try. But there was always more to it. Just hidden under unspoken words, my intentions maybe a bit more clear to those who could actually use their eyes, albeit not many can, or at least they choose not to. It's far easier to just assume arachnae are heartless right? Well I wasn't.
Not entirely. Though I guess now I can be considered just that with a bit more accuracy. Truth is I Did love Dae. As disgusting a habit love may just be. As yes, I Did sit by and watch him try and try again with others, and each time I tried to be supportive. Tried my best to be a good friend to him. God knows he needs real friends. Never once giving up hope that maybe, just maybe he'd notice me for a change. I was stupid, I get that. But chemicals are chemicals right? The point is, I was blind myself.
Blinded by stupid little childish fantasies in my own head. Guess that's what you get when most of your experiences are learned second hand. Watching,
waiting, the silent observer. Only now can I see that those fantasies are just that. A fantasy. Meeting his newest little fling. Do I expect it to last?
Hell no. She'll die eventually, just like all the others do. The curse of chemicals is just as vicious as the curse of curves. But... She's a pipsqueak.
The others before her, I understand. A goddess, a demi god. But... this is a freaking little vampire minion!
I refuse to sit idly by and play consort for this. When his love burns again,
I won't be there to protect and care for him. He'll be lucky if I don't call him an imbecile for caring about a servant deadspawn. Yet... I'm not angry. I can't be angry. As much as I want to be, I can't. Because, I'm jealous of her. And if I can be jealous of something so small and insignificant.. That has to mean I'm even less insignificant than she, right?



Maybe they're right about me. Maybe I am just an insect. I certainly feel like one now...

Sometimes


I've always wanted to experience new things. And since coming to Rhy'Din I have, every day. But when I'm laying down, thinking to myself. I often wonder what it'd be like to be someone else. It's not that i'm unhappy with my life, quite the opposite actually. But I can't help but to consciously put myself in the shoes of other types of people. People who aren't like me. Not that anyone IS like me. I witness so many people try so hard to be unique. But it makes me sad that I can't just tell them being different is just another "The grass is always greener" scenario. Because on a regular basis I always find myself wondering what it'd be like, to be like everyone else. To be normal and do normal stuff. Instead, I'm just silently wandering around trying to communicate with people who for the most part can't understand me at all. But if I talk, they'll listen.. And never hear a word I said. That's how it goes when you're Unique like me. I'm not complaining, not in the slightest. I'll always be grateful to be alive, to be me. But sometimes, even maybe just for a day. I'd love to see what it's like to be someone else. Someone who isn't me