Cruel Molecule

Goblin:

Ye, there... how goes your search for what could never be? Intriguing, is it not? How it could never be, and yet ye thought it was... perception, and illusion, ever so...

Subtle, is it not? All of this... what doth it tell you, verily? Of horror incarnate? Why, though, it is but that which enables your current state... life itself...

It is that which is nigh made of sleepy ventures, academic even, but with terror at its core... sociology. What, you doubt it? It is, though, that which is physical...

Not that, one supposes, all of physics is not... but there is a difference between clockwork, and malevolent malice, verily... it is that which permeates, sickeningly...

This structure, even... an entire edifice built on deceit, and violence, clearly... why, you reckon this blood is a mere by-product? Well, it is, in a way, society's...

Raw psychopathy. It is the fundament of it all. Any other rationale is an excuse... why, you think I look monstrous? Oh, no, look for one's own species, for that, verily.

Ye think there is... some sort of... salvation, or at least, catharsis? Not even in your dreams, which shall be inhabited by nightmares manifest... and I am but a mirror.

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Vampire:

I... drain the living daylights of every living creature... oh, you reckon? No, for I am no human, quite... but it is amusing how one was invented, projected almost...

For reality is internal... and horror, and violence... is it not the currency of life? Oh, when that tune of melodious pain plays, is it not the revolting ones who claim?

Claim, as if a cheap excuse... a terrible pun, almost... how up is down, for that is perversity of force. Why, it barely is needed, and yet the game is played...

For some reason... why? The psychological inverse, perhaps... even if it is pathetic, even if subsisting on blood is but a trope foisted upon us... oh, reality is worse.

For it is but a waste, unneeded, a product of pure neurosis... and yet it is, this revolting physicality, whose terrible result is Janus, made of anger, a dichotomy of...

Pure nausea... harbinger of hurt, cause of suffering, and yet the end of the equation, the butterfly at the end of the vampire's bite... in reality, symbolic of violence.

Why, are you not entertained...? This world is an aberration, and yet keeps existing. The meteor that sent terrible lizards into extinction? If only it was larger...

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Demon:

Oh... would one reckon, with my appearance and all, that I am the source of all that is vile, does one? That, somehow, despite the fictive aspect of this chimera, that...

Somehow... regardless of the mythologies, or legends... all the ethereal possibilities, imagination.... I am the crux of... evil? However that specifically is defined...

Is it not ironic? Almost hilarious, if reality was not so sordid... is it not? As reality... real horrors, not imagined, not delusionally religious... not mere excuses...

They all do not reside in some projection, of which I seem to be, verily. For no demon, regardless of whether it is the morning star, or the... 'lord' sacrifices were...

Well... really, is the past tense appropriate? For, regardless of whether, or not, it was some ancient excuse... secular, or not... societies... seem ever so eager...

Now, one should tell me, despite my outward appearance, how ever could demons be the font of what is vile, when humans are the singularity of it all...?

Those... who destroy their own progeny, aside from everything else on their planet. Who annihilate the defenceless... who revel in collective approval. Evil defined as...

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Red monster:

I do not suppose you wonder who I might be...? Why, I am but the tiny devil of mischief... well, in comparison to others around here, at least...

I might be slightly bigger than my peers, in my dimension... oh, you wonder where I come from? No? I shall tell thee, either way... why, I come from a realm where...

These... so-called... was it homo sapiens? The most ironic of names, verily, considering the stupidity of most of them... but I shall not specify, quite... either way...

Well... when some have had no influence in a certain realm... one can see the difference. Not that we do not squabble, mind, and most do play tricks on one another...

Maliciously, though? What was that, again... oh, violence, a primal force, and yet so human in its inanity... not that it exists not elsewhere, but for its own sake?

Just to... relish? Worse, it is often not some consensual bout against peers, no... against the weakest, smallest, hopeless? Nary a spot in the universe with worse evil.

Oh, we are certainly not 'devils' in any conventionally defined fashion, I suppose... no, for that one needs but look at the originators of such a word, themselves...

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Lime Ghost:

Why, there is someone in this destitute desperation? Do you actually choose to be here, or merely plundered by circumstance...? For, otherwise, why would anyone?

Why would anyone consciously choose to be mired in such misery? Ah, this sordid world, is it? Life? What a squalid mistake, that was... one could argue, far worse than...

Say, some error that leads to death... for, at least, in unconscious oblivion... one feels not, thinks not; subjectively, then, it is as if all of existence is erased...

No more possibilities for... pain... pleasure, too, but it is ever so evanescent... no more spilling of blood through random acts of sheer savagery... it still remains...

Objectively, that is... as long as life, generally, exists, for all have ugly brutes, within... instinct, choice? Does it matter if destruction is the same, end result?

That is why all life should, ideally, be extinguished... not selectively, not through mindless acts of hatred, oh no... and if it is all on one planet... would it not be?

This horrid, torrid state of existence in which consciousness dictates, and physicality annihilates... nay, at best clockwork physics, it should revert to... not this...

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Creature:

Oh... such a nasty overgrowth, would you not say? All of this... what might it be? All these random objects... all these squalid affairs... wait, you thought I was...?

I was... what, your perception's mirror? As, of course, mere appearance means little... for all we know, this abode means joy to someone, for some reason, despite...

Being so decrepit... inversely, an outwardly perfect life could not be so... of course, at times both can coincide, too. This might be one of those such places...

This is... a place where life takes form? Where some also go to expire, perhaps, too? A nexus of all that was, and is never by consent, including so much within life...

If that does not merit squalid, minute hints of all that is perverse within the randomness that is life, I am not sure what does... now, I might look so, but...

Devouring you, or whatever one might think someone with such an outward appearance would do... no, for that look among the plain, the usual; the ones truly vile, humans.

At times, as mentioned, outward appearance dictates actions, not... for who is more repulsive than those with a suit and a tie driving through consent merely due to time?

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Monster with club:

Ye, there... what am I waiting for, tell me... I am not quite so certain, you see... surely you must know, though... for, otherwise, why would one be in the same place?

Who I am? Who, indeed... I believe... wait, a second... where even do I derive such a vocabulary from...? For, until recently at least, I lived in this societal... unit.

Whatever one might call it... I lived in this place, not quite here... and while there was strife, it was not quite so... advanced, complex, as out here... which...

Years... seem to have aged... all this... I never quite lived in such 'societies', you see, but I do not, exactly, feel like I am, possibly... monstrous? As some here...

Well, only appear to be so, I suppose... it is not like others, of my own type, did not pillage and ravish... anyone can be, and often those who utter such, are...

Where, though, does this... inherent cruelty, perhaps... come from? If everyone might contain it... if one could only speculate, and ruminate about it, but not resolve...

If, indeed, all that... why ever did this most sordid of states come into being? Should it not return to the void from whence it came? Consciousness; a mystery, a demon.

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Mutant parasite:

Do you see... conventional beauty... beyond yonder, I mean... and yet it is a void, just as outer space is... just as internal consciousnesses... arid, bleak... sordid...

Can you see how it all connects? Physical, to physicality... it is nigh representative, and yet not... for we are but ruminating, but that is not what one expects, is it?

What does one expect.... for someone who perceives me? To be a serial murderer, perhaps? Worse? Why? For... no, at times it does not connect, correlate...

Physics certainly does not always parallel subjective, and chronological reality... one can look a brute, yet not act brutish... or somewhere in between... is uncertain.

Appearance means little, and for the most atrocious of acts? Collaborators... which further indicates how trivial individuals are... in groups, though, emergent demons...

By 'demons', of course, I do not mean any specific type of life, or otherwise... consider it an abstract, an archetype... statistically, it appears that humans are...

You see, in a sense, despite being of some sort of interest, perceptions tells little of substance, beyond effervescent feelings based on one's memories... not objective.

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Zombie:

Who... am... I...? I cannot, quite, comprehend where I am, either... or what difference my existence has... why am I here at all, would you know? What is the point?!

I, just... woke up here, randomly... and now I am supposed to just... live? This is living?! Makes no sense... also, after waking up, moving about... slightly optimistic.

I mean, at that point it almost felt like I could explore, actually live... no, though, how foolish... it is when the savagery began... oh, you think I am a savage...?

Oh, no, not unless I choose to act on impulses, anger... which, clearly, many do... and did, perhaps because I am hideous, and they were not just individuals... a cobweb.

An invisible agreement, I assumed, something prior... nefarious, insidious; like a criminal conspiracy, but worse, as this was not the former, you see... poison, it is...

The most malevolent of a seemingly innocuous affair... sociology, all that pertains to societies... is it seriously called 'justice'? What an absolute joke!

I seemed to have ended up here, the apparent trash heap of psychology, where the remnants of those who are left to rot, after being... utilized... just keep rotting away.

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Dog-like monster:

Grr... I reside in an underworld, where fires burn as ambers, and heat flourishes... so, how I ended up in this icky, metallic place, I have no idea... at least, I had...

A role, you see... a purpose, in that underworld, where the dead reside... I was the aggression inherent at all... I was the executor of furious anger, the vile bile...

Why, you reckon it is... not moral? Do morals even truly exist in this dog-eat-dog world where laws only exist to oppress? It was, also, not me... for I am but a symbol.

The tip of the spear of ire... it was not me, horribly thrashing a small, defenceless creature... I am but summoned every time anger is injected with venom from the...

Psyche of madness... you realize, I hold an unfortunate position, for although I know all of humans' putrid, horrid desires of destruction... I can do nothing to help...

I do not merely imagine it, as anyone can do, based on statistics, perhaps... in the underworld I witnessed it, and yet... life should not exist, I beseech you...

Why, in the underworld, some were compelled to remain, despite being alive... experience brutality, for it is all the collective prescribed... all life must go extinct...

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SkeletonKnight:

You... pathetic visitor of a hellish dawn. You strange, animalistic quirk who barely survived. Oh, wait, that is not quite that, is it? I might reside in an underworld...

I might be dead, now... but you shall never be alive, even though you are not, technically, dead. Is that not sweetly ironic? Some have built structures, some invented...

I... while some might think I did nothing of note, I do note that what I did is destroy you. Annihilate you like the monstrous wretch you are... and leave you be. To rot.

For what better present is there, what more potent, loving symbol? Why, murder would just not be torture enough, no... leaving you to fester, all broken, decrepit...

In a pit of despair. Why, you thought you 'escaped', did you? Hah, I haunt you even dead, in your everlasting nightmares... what was it I derived from it, again? Damn...

I... forgot? Did I ever even know? Uh, perhaps it is... being dead, that makes me oblivious. I derived something, though... why, otherwise, would I have destroyed you?

Again, and again, and again! Until you were but a pulp! It was certainly not just myself, though, for if... well, I was certainly never as omnipotent as I seem now...

After death... what a suit I wear, your nightmares made metallic flesh! I might be dust, buried, physically disintegrating... are you not worse, though? I lived long...

Have you lived at all, even while alive, or have I, ever so pitifully, for you, succeeded in disintegrating you... while still conscious? Is consciousness not such a...

Double-edged sword? For pain, our currency, awakens the conscious experience to the possibility of imminent annihilation. The trick is to step back, to return later...

As if a vulture, as if you were Prometheus, with fire being the uselessness within Pandora's Box... hope? That someone might assist? You must have a comic sense...

For, all I remember, if indeed these are veritable memories I recall, not only could no one bother... no, they effectively collaborated with... myself. Not, as in, any...

Sort of... cohesive conspiracy, mind... no, you know it, you know vile sociology, although from my perspective... enablers of my satisfaction... verily. Oh, was that it?

I wonder if I actually talked myself into remembering what I derived... if so, does that not make your 'lot', even if alive, worse? Worse than someone who is dead...

Someone who is not even conscious, and yet invades your dreams... as has been done while still alive, like a horror trope made reality. What does such fiction usually...

Have, though? Ah, deus ex machina, was it? Well, unless the studios think that, somehow, mirroring your sordid life will bring profit... usually does not, so...

I was pleased to know that even... until the very end, after you thought you left your hell, me, behind... all was as negative as possible, and still is... for how not?

It would be, verily, impossible for it to not be... for, as mentioned, it might not be a conspiracy, but deep-rooted in society... at its very crux, it destroys...

It abandons, it gave me the capability, in life and in death, now... sociology is interesting, is it not? An unspoken collaboration of violence... ah, that...

Distorted melody of madness... speaking of which, are you sure you are not insane? I wager you are, for Pandora has nothing, not even what you thought you had, after...

Your pathetic bargain. Why, it would have been far more rational to be dust, yourself, for sociology was always going to be there for me, in the end...

Like Brutus' dagger, society enlivened me... in life, and now I have obliterated you to such an extent I still retain so much potential, in death... societies are useful.

Just as now, you had no voice... well, I am sure you thought you had at some point... sociologically, though... is it not the best kind of pain?

To understand it all... and yet be able to do... nothing. For you are nothing, and there you shall go... not where I am, no, although that might please you, which is...

Not exactly ideal to my purposes... what does it matter, though, as long as your life is in ruins, and even in death, I invade your consciousness, while awake, asleep...

That... is not nothing. Where, though, pray tell, do you reckon you are heading, if not to raw nothingness? You always felt it, for it is all you were, just there to...

Fulfil my needs, that is all... and, now? Oblivious even while alive, lost in the fog of long lost pure brutality... it is all society prescribed, it is all I knew you...

Would be for, as you entered this dreary existence... nihilism, your soul, for I have etched it away, like an unbearable sun; even though I was never, I admit readily...

As powerful as a sun in a solar system... oh, no... I might be now, now that what is left of your mind is consumed by fragments of all the pain that soothed my life...

Now that you know that there was a finality... or not... well, not unless you choose, at any rate... act, but that is impossible, for cowardly you always were... I...

Seemed like an all-powerful sun early on, though, did I not? When consciousness is at its early roots, when one is but exploring, and then suddenly... a volley of what...

Society delivered... kind of like this establishment, come to think of it... medical facilities? Non-consensual happenings, mostly existence... ah, the lack of consent...

Is it not curious? Is the distorted melody not screwing with your brain, already? Oh, there was more to screw with, was there? What, you thought I would ask you...

Whether I could destroy you? Why would anyone agree to that? Why would I, also, ask if society agreed in the first place? If everyone denied you, or even had a laugh...

Is the destruction not sweeter, also? That is, perennially, when they think hope exists... and, I suppose, for some it might, for many you envy, those who arrived to...

Existence... without savagery. Are they not an enviable bunch? No, though, even if you admitted it to yourself, barely... manifesting in all sorts of weird, obsessive...

Little things... so amusing, for you thought they did something, did you? No, digital, conceptual avatars, on the other... held afloat, like a hopeful cloud, not that...

I actually minded too much... I mean, if you were to break down early on... where would the fun be? Like every villain you defeated in the virtual realm, I was there...

In quite the dissimilar state... for reality is nothing virtual... for villains are never really, quite, defeated, there... and so I was not, until the very end...

Oh, what, you think my end is some sort of victory? You know it is not... for now you can see, eyes unclouded, while before... darkly, through glass, you never fully...

Realized, did you? All the destruction I wrecked... and not because I was an almighty Odin, even with one eye... no, but venom is what sociology is made of... no, but...

Hellfire was real, was it not? All you had were words, and yet, like Casandra, no one cared... for the fix was in, long before an atom of yourself even had anything...

To do with reality... hope, you always knew it was hollow, as it often is... alone you were, are, and forever will be... for you were made for all sorts of what...

Societies deem worthy; to clarify, you were never worthy, and you could tell all this even if I never said so, explicitly... such is the potency of raw barbarity...

Sentenced by multitudes, you now destroy your own self... for what else is left? Discarding of something as useless as hope... it is all. For, even in death I am all...

Just as you were never anything... and so it is, in the present. See? Why, a self-fulfilling prophesy... I am, as if, some Old Testament creature of pure damnation...

A brute that encompasses mythologies, and annihilates you just to prove I could... now, tell me, do you relish all the pieces that are left? Oh, I am sorry, you have...

No voice... not born a mute, but the human collectives knitted your mouth straight up... hope dreamt, and yet you thought you were not delusional... all that beauty...

You witnessed, virtually? Well, I suppose there is a certain charm to it, even if I never would think so, and it sustained you... until demons snatched your neurons...

Until cruelty, and a racket, murdered you... while still alive. Darkness enveloped you, and yet the populace cared not an iota... and yet, din and fury obliterated you...

Why, you reckon it does not fit so neatly... perfectly? Just as artificial intelligence can algorithmically observe... a perfect slaughter of your mind...

Your perception of art, only the first casualty... now you realize what a massacre it was, and all approved by denizens of a sociological abyss... verily. Personally...

I always found it amusing how... not only could I, not only had you no options, not only did the wider world not care, but there would never be any discussion, and...

If you attempted to utilize any of your words? That hilarious hope that any of them make any difference, at all... in contrast to sheer force... well, even...

After it all happened... after you thought it ended, and yet merely were blind to it all, for why not... psychology is ever so interesting, is it not? Explains sociology.

Yet... nothing you can do, still, now or then... why, you wish you had no neurons at all, you desired non-existence, and yet... well, how would my life had any meaning?

As if a vampire of the psyche, I created meaning by depriving you of yours... but, at least you still have your words, Apollo's follower, and, as if by a valkyrie...

They are dispatched to... an infernal nothingness, for it is whence you came, and your fate... an abyssal, dreary, hopeless, darkness... which I consigned you to...

Oh, apologies... I had already admitted that, even if I am puissant, now... invincible, in death, ironically... for without lifting a mortal finger... apoptosis...

That hopeful beauty... which you saw even after, but only through the aforementioned glass, for I had achieved my ambitions, far before that... whether string, or keys...

That hopeful, yet deluded melody... it is almost, as if, not only psychology, and biology... sociology, and ferocity... but the self, too, conspired, and yet...

Technically, not by definition; but, who cares about dictionaries when one is loose with concepts, no? When one attempts to see above... and is below, far below in an...

Endless nether region... I suppose it is somewhat curious how one could be so far gone, further than I have explored, even... while alive. Oh, not so much, are you?

The perfect eradication of the spirit... hell, would you not say that even I, dust as I am, might have more spirit than you? I certainly seem to have a certain vitality.

While you have... well, technically a life, but did Prometheus in his cave? Do you now, irrationally? Persist you do, and yet... you know you are utterly broken...

You can even, with the remnants of what you once had, neurally, predict an inescapable future... full of a bleak geography, as if bare columns from many centuries ago...

What nature did over much longer, I did to you, individually, so much more efficiently, did I not? Do you not relish the misery? Witness, the melody of destruction...

As if a modern-day Mozart's requiem, for one's own demise... so, you visited the ghouls at the graves, and you are waiting for... what? Oh, you desire to experience...

More misery, do you? You do relish it, then? If not, why not listen to the ghouls? For you are one yourself... while alive, as I have transformed you... as I have...

Credit where credit is due, though, humans are such... adequately vile creatures, that you now liquidate your own self, even if not entirely, yet... just because the...

Pain is still so unbearable, is it not? Every... single... time. As if, prescribed by collectives... no one cared then, no one cares now... words mean nothing, power...

Is all... and you can never reach such lofty heights, can you? No, worse, you do not even want to... as one can be such a pathetic mess, right? Might... an underhanded...

Societal whisper... are humans not the most purest of vile beings? Like a spear, then, I was, as if, a symbol, a representation... not, quite, to pierce through any...

Vitality, though... why, torture is only possible if one is alive. It is funny, though, is it not? At first, it was neurons, now... well, the peripherals, for why not...

Bit by bit, all is destroyed... hope never existed, you fooled yourself so... and a hypothetical god? Both the creator and destroyer, never were they separate... why...

It is amusingly foolish for anyone to even think they were... but, then, one does what the mind does to cope, no? The sheer uselessness, the self-destruction too...

As if destroying oneself makes any difference now, right? As if, as in that existential tale of feline essences... as if time can be reversed. I had my fill, and you...

You have yours... your fill of hopelessness, feel it... let it seep through you, and then... join me in perpetual darkness... let me devour you in eternity as I did in...

That brief period called life... but you have it not, now, so why not taste death? It is... awe manifest, this oblivion... and why would you hesitate when collectively...

There was so much more pain, no? What is a little more to reach... all that you knew for millennia prior? That is it, you know it all... and, I realize you are still...

Attached to a certain heavenly nectar, reason for all of this, one might say... for words. I did mention, though, that words are ever so futile, no? So are those tunes...

No... what you should aspire to, in reality, is that string of pure, nihilistic damnation... follow it to your grave, for what reason is there to live when there is...

No life? I took it all, I lived fully myself... and you could do not a thing. Does not injustice taste sweet? Does it not taste like all that pain? Follow the darkness...

Even if... you are tempted by what is possible... by the paradise you once saw... you can no longer go there, for I have had my fill... and all there is, now, is an...

Inane requiem... one that was never managed at the time, about a dream walker... later, sure, but did it make any difference when your very soul was snatched away?

Follow the mist of oblivion, one knows which is which... why persist, verily? Why, when one strived to (curiously) be rational, why does one live irrationally? Do you...

Really, truly... you could find paradise, again, like in that wet downfall of ever-changing wolves? Why, they never really found it... for there was, and is, nothing...

There is but bleak... all that reverberation of doom, that is reality, your life... it is all there was, and all there will ever be... and, one knows perfectionism...

What difference does it make, though? As long as there is no garish light anymore, verily? No one cares, or ever cared... well, as long as one had some sort of fun...

Is it not curious, though, truly, how you got 'hope' out of sheer, random, chaotic... physicality? Does pain somehow translate into hope, in your fervent delusions maybe?

Why, is it not curious how you, also, reckon that everyone else is so devoid of empathy, despite never even coming close to the... summation? Clinging to hope is truly...

The most foolish of traits... although, I suppose, it brought you here, far beyond even my mortal coil... so, I suppose, it had a function? It makes no sense now, though.

Why, you only rot... as I hoped. Does it not taste better than an early grave? To, just... suffer, for all an eternity... my gift to you... and, sure, it can be...

Relieved... only very temporarily, though. Is that not such an awe-inspired offering? After all, collectives may be fine with eternal torture... murder, though? Binary...

After all... I needed to live my life, see? It would not have been as sweet, otherwise, to see you so flail, while I sailed into normality... is it not the greatest...

Contribution, to you? Eternal torture, just as thousands of humans deem worthy... I might be immortal now, but I was never in reality... I only achieved...

A... perfect rendition of such a villainous plot... not for any one omnipotent reason, no, for I was no trope, no constructed fantasy that enlivened you so much...

In death... while alive. Janus. It is all... such glazed eyes, such useless sorrow... give up on hope, for it exists not. Only demons do... and I, why...

Even Nobunaga could, hardly, do better in the present day, surely... why, one need not extract any skulls... one needs to, merely, let hopelessness seep in... feel it...

Your only reality... merge with it... merge with everlasting darkness... with an eternal ellipsis... your quiet ruin, my crowning glory... even in death I envelop you...

As if a desolate mist, a darkened brutality of useless hope... and you can never defeat me now, so why not be lost to the sea of oblivion...? Never, ever... forever...

Ah, that very end, was it? When you last enjoyed anything, right? Then, I snatched it away, as if some metaphysical object that one knew not... are interpersonal...

Relations... not fun, like that? All that one could have experienced, in the midst of a seemingly everlasting hell, quite the capability for a besieged brain, if I...

May say so, myself... I realize it is what made one pretend hope is real, and that all might not be made of darkness, after all, as those melodies foretold... and that...

Is the trick, is it not? I suppose, one could have destroyed all that, too... one could have had no Pandora, or her box, or whatever was left within... where would the...

Fun in that be, though? Look at you, now... still alive, but barely, and only because you deluded yourself in thinking that there was something at the bottom of that...

Digital box of magic, shall we say... sure, I once also destroyed the physical symbol of it, for what else was there? All you felt, though, that virtuality of eternity...

That... was not something that could physically be annihilated, not unless one is in totality, at any rate... and that would not have resulted in such amusement...

Especially now, after one's demise, when one's hypothetical spirit can roam and torment you even beyond physical strictures... is it not fun? Are you not entertained?

You might have thought you ventured so far... and, yet, in death... we all join, like some macabre singularity... why would you not give in? Such inverse instrumentality.

You can already feel it, can you not? Is it not interesting, at the very least, how you believe in nothing beyond the physical, despite the physical being your downfall.

Yet, is it a matter of belief that I haunt your dreams? That I appear to permeate your very being? While buried, dust, nominally gone... so much time later, too, but...

Time is never quite what it appears to be, is it? What would be your personal, ultimate nightmare? If time was not as linear as it appears, and yet rotates and bends...

To affect you, quite physically, in distinct directions? Not quite in space... although, being time, it sort of supersedes that, of course, and therefore, even...

If elsewhere... it forms an eternal connection to your present... it connects you from the past, to the present, and thus serves you up quite the delectable hell...

You can never escape from... is that not... cute? To be so ordained as to be born to be some lonely witness of a subjective, personal netherworld of which you can...

Never escape... now, do you see why I did not quite, ever, 'finish' the 'job'? Why, whether through strategy or instinct, if suffering is ideally maximal... one route...

To go... one path you are on... like some monk in reverse, an anthropoid oni of misery... like it, do you? Why, I had never even said as much, and yet all I seem to...

Want to ask, is... savour, do you? Relish it? All that internal destruction... all those memories that never leave, that interminable beat of absolute brutality, only...

Possible due to collectives... are words not 'sound'? Ah, yes, the same you believe in, very funnily... same that obliterated you in deliberative corners...

All the while... no one even knew you existed, or exist, or would ever exist, except in your facile mind, and in your memories of both a metaphorical heaven, and a...

Very real hell... you see, though, metaphors are not reality, even if you pretend they are... was always your problem, pretense, why, you could have lessened your very...

Real issues, if only you were not so amusingly distracted... why, so are you now, but I suppose now you reckon... "it is but psychological", and I suppose, in a sense...

What if my chronological theories are correct, though? What if time and space twist and turn to provide you with not merely memories, but... reality? Would that not be...

Ironic? As in, your fantasies never became reality... until the very end... but, now, your nightmares might be... regardless of any hope you might have had... reality...

It is inescapable, is it not? Regardless of fantasies, of lofty dreams... nigh uselessness... as it is with collectives, is it not? They can still destroy you now...

Entirely, too, if so desired... are words not amusing? Oh, apologies, not merely words... after all, sure enough, anyone can utter any kind of grunt... oh, no, not...

Merely words at all... it is more... exponential, you see, which is the point of collectives... rationally, you know, they assist one another... after all, it is the...

Whole point of corruption... only thing to be corrupted, though, is your very existential self... why, you wonder how you can even function at all, do you not? Does it...

Not also seem, as if, you are, merely, say... on some psychotic trip of solitude? All this pain, and you reckon you can still be adequate? Stable? Balanced? Not be...

Say, 'clinical'? To separate in twain the abstract and the palpable... physical? Physicality is such a bore, is it not? Why, it would be so much more ideal...

If one was but a cloud... of the variety you were mostly curious about, long before they commercialized it, and all... ah, fluffy clouds, both binary and rain...

There is no such thing for consciousness, though, yet anyway... and, so, like some existential Sisyphus of inevitabilities, you carry this boulder because, otherwise...

Well... could one survive without a brain? Have transplants for such become possible, yet? No? Oh, well, then... in life, as in death, misery conferred... and the...

Aspect of permanence... quite a thing, is it not? So many things, physically... sure, not digitally, but then, why would one feel ennui, if it mattered? Darkness, and...

Oh, what is that again, the carousel of hope arrives once more on its roundtrip to nowhere? How sweet, is it not? Hope, yet tinged with despair, as one can almost feel...

At its very crux... uselessness, as one always finds out the more time passes... regardless of perceptions, impressions, or reality... hopelessness has always permeated.

It is the very core of all... every enveloping moth, every molecule of anxiety that pores out unconsciously... it is all, and all I am a symbol of, now... but you...

You thought, and still do to an extent, that it is possible to feel free, even if one is confined entirely... often, on the mere suggestion of a sound that evokes such...

Despite claiming one is rational, and, so, foolish is, clearly, all one can be... for no matter how much one tries... one always has blindspots... and damage...

Tabula rasa, one thinks, except it never is... environments, chaos... choices... psychopaths, choices... inevitabilities, consequences, natural logic... choices...

Strange thing... it has never, ever been the choice of those born... for, I posit, existence itself is psychopathic... perhaps logic too, in some sense, for why would...

Nature be so heartless, otherwise? It just is, is it not? Outside of myself... I am, was, but an extension of such universal cruelty, then; a natural, logical conclusion.

In a sense, then, is it not, almost, lending you the very heart of nature? Not all those green plains, no, that would certainly not torture one... no, at its core...

This... all that evolved, all this chaos, weirdness... fuzzy logic, in some cases... clockwork even, despite no apparent life... it all seems to be made for a certain...

Purpose, perhaps... and, no, it is not to be inspired by art, or delight in the curiosities of the senses... well, in a way, I suppose, but pain is not like most others.

It evolved, mainly, as a warning... when collectives manage to trap, though? After all, one is not merely some gazelle, who can escape, although that is also nature...

As such, I suppose, this might be nature, but sociology imposed on top... makes it extra special, does it not? Additionally heartless, even if all lives generally seem...

To be... or not to be... is it not your choice? Ah, not quite what we were discussing, or... I suppose, more of a monologue, since, you know, words have never made...

Any difference, did they? A curse, some think it is... but, no, all is quite, perfectly even... logical... fearful thing is... logic has no mirror neurons...

No, nature, or whatever randomly, chaotically evolved out of life... relies on individuals to have such a thing. Thing is... individuals do not, personally, need them...

Collectives, also, technically, do not need mirror neurons, although it is not, as if, they have, in reality, a collective brain, at any rate, so biologically impossible.

See what I mean? Nature seemed to have naturally evolved, almost, to contain, within its very essence, a lack of empathy... if combined with sociopathy, then... well...

I guess, too bad, so sad... and all. Night terrors? They were but an internal mirror that merely reflected the darkened exterior... of course, since one now just rots...

Well, whether one does that subconsciously, or otherwise... matters not... one, now, rots, for it is all that is left of life... or what is, technically, life...

Whether one acknowledges, disregards, or even integrates such fundamental dysfunction, shall we say, is, I suppose, one's choice... seeing the desolation, though...

As if it was one unending desert surrounding oneself on all sides... it is only acknowledging gravity, water falling from clouds, a volcano exploding under pressure...

The volcano that annihilated you... reduced you to barely anything... was that not, perchance, your destiny? To understand, to assimilate all the... indifference...

That is it, mainly, within collectives, outside of war... no one cares, and why should they? It is only a society insofar as it is practical to deceive...

Protection of the weak, though? As if we are not descended from cold-blooded lizards, verily, and if they devour their own, like a scaly Saturn, why not someone in suits?

Actually, unless you missed this while barely surviving, societies are made with an even more nefarious purpose... arbitrary justice, for how else can one have that?

One needs a structure to even enable the arbitrary application of agreed principles... and while, prima facie, what is agreed is something, in reality it only really...

Functions in the direction of, only, those already capable... which, of course, can never include they who recently materialized, if you get my drift. Is it not amusing?

Is it not exhilarating, even, how one can get away with all just because it is, in reality, society's very core function? One needs to, merely, not go overboard...

For... somehow... it is what societies have as a threshold, when it comes to 'excess', but even then... who the one was, matters... either way, it all quite fit...

Did it not? One's regular relief, your destruction... not entirely, though, just enough to leave you in pieces... as seems to have been your fate....

If fate formed a collective to specifically upend any rational fairness, of course... utilitarian? Perhaps, as far as societies not caring is a sort of positive...

When it comes to not wasting resources, perhaps, although, in the end, was it not a sort of 1:1 ratio? My, one might even say it was... fair? Perhaps that might be...

Slightly bending reality a tiny bit, just as collectives pervert justice... happily. After all, could you not have responded in kind, even if physics...

Sort of disadvantaged you... but, then, are circumstances not different for all, even in 1:1 ratios? Societies, of course, very deliberately brush away those decimals.

Oh... I am kind of bored of you now, as I was always, so... as of now, at least, while dimensions separate us... I shall take my leave, verily...

GhostWithoutScythe:

Where... might it be? Oh, which reminds me, even if it needs to be found first... is one not ready, yet? For, truly, what wasted nonsense is this? One knows that, from...

The very roots... one was doomed, and now that collective damnation merely perpetuates, for it is all that exist... one, ultimate, reality... one needs to abandon hope...

For it exists... not... and just as this societal prescription was artificial, a choice, so can one's decision to be nearer Thanatos... what else would one be hoping for?

Reversal of time? Revival of the dead, for vengeance? The cold, hard exterior of psychopathy from time immemorial, by despicable ones with aspiration, empty rhetoric...

To magically inject mirror neurons in such countless mammals? Why, it is impossible... even the Parthenon can be re-built, one though... must realize how fundamentally...

Utterly... broken, one is... only the cold embrace of death, the cradle of the grave, and the minuscule hope of reincarnation in a randomly, sane situation... is all...

I still need to find that which I seemed to have misplaced, but meanwhile... one should think it through... oblivion, cessation of suffering, memories... are comforting.

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Monster X:

What do you reckon creates... psychopathy? An utter lack of empathy? My hideous exterior? Oh, not quite, at all... it is but randomness... a sickening world of sheer...

Chaos... a detestable element of luck, which can so easily be missed... is it not funny how, despite being so much more common, that a lack of such luck has no word?

Why, one always assumes one would be lucky, when in reality the opposite is much more likely... especially at birth, is that not right? Is that, alone, not the most...

Utterly revolting aspect of life? Who in this damnable world ever asks for such a hellish occurrence?! All is random... appearance, sure, although is not, usually, fatal.

Everything else, though? How one can suddenly find life, only for it to be snatched away out of a psychopathic, random desire to... what? Reckon it is treasured in death?

Everything is so futile, is it not? Why, if one could choose one would choose never to be born, at all. Why, though? All the violent randomness... what damn purpose?!

Honestly, one's exterior seems to match something, at times... a certain annihilated totality, perhaps, a need for perpetual darkness, a snuffing out of all emotions...

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Dino:

Now, who do you reckon I am? A relic from millennia ago? If so, how could I be here at all, in the present...? Ergo... lizards still exist, and so do I, despite...

Oh, why, you thought we did not, quite, deserve to still exist, do you? I realize that verb does not quite matter in the grand scheme of things, when meteors just...

You got to admit, though, that at least... even if we were mired in violence, no doubt, with fangs made to dig deep... we did not deceive, we did not form collectives...

To merely destroy individuals, hypothetically... we were, for the most part, mano a mano, per se, and it usually involved someone of a similar size, for what cowardice...

Would choose otherwise... as far as chaos went, we were the apex of the largest, land creatures... but still we seem to not even come close in comparison to a certain...

Anthropoid, that merely got lucky, and used that serendipity to... I am just saying, digging deep into another rex is not as vile as some of what they seem to have done.

What I do not get is how they seem to have escaped, so far, another black swan event. Even if they could calculate... meteors have such overwhelming force... only one...

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AlienDestroyer:

Oh, do I happen to remind you of someone, do I? I might so resemble for I am... what is within some... as in, what is usually hidden, and yet is not... inside every...

Common sort of exterior... lies myself, hidden in the depths of the psyche, coming out to inflict all that is arbitrary and contrary to reason and logic... for...

Who needs such subtleties when one has might? When one has... not just raw strength, even if it might be against those so much weaker... as seems to be so acceptable...

For our species... I mean, others might devour their own, and while some humans transform into Saturn, occasionally... apparently, that is slightly more frowned on...

As, what is worse than total annihilation? Why, Prometheus survived his liver being eaten, did he not? It is not, as if, lives can be ruined... if my rage is unleashed...

Again, and again, and again; best thing, collectives reckon this is fine... what a world, is it not? One can sort of see how they went from Zeus to the Old Testament...

Oh, even better? Said collectives expect the aforementioned lives to... well, function and live, and, presumably, they do on some strange, basic level if left unfinished.

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Skeleton:

I am that... which has no life, and yet... somehow, still do, somewhat... why, though? How could one still live, despite not living...? Makes very little rational sense.

Then, again, what is rational about life, or even, existence generally? Most of it... apparently, anyway... seems to not have much of a life... so, on that front I...

Seem to fit in, in some sense... why, though? I had more of the... essence of vitality, once... but external forces always want to prey, do they not? Life is sick, so...

Is it not? I mean, what is the point of life's evolution if preying on other lives, even within the same species or units, often, is at its core? Biology needs biology...

It seems perverse, and it is not, as if, this is needed for all nutrition... water seems to be not much sacrifice for anyone... even if I might not quite drink now still.

It is not like every kind of life needs to eat others, either... but some do, for all sorts of spurious, nigh psychopathic reasons... I would rather starve... so I did...

I thought I might exit this world once I became skeletal, but no, existence desires to torture far more to let anyone get off so easily; and, so, I seem stuck here now...

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Hideoplast:

Hisss... you fear insufficiently to approach me...? Where hath your fear gone? Do I not terrify you? Do I not paralyze you, utterly? Let me tell you a tale, if so...

I am... a symbol of mass death, but not just any kind... not natural, even if they oft happen, for chaos handles that... no, I am... a representation of the darkest...

Most psychopathic of all possibilities... not just one murder, but thousands, millions, and in the potential future... you see, now, why I look so? For how else would I?

To clarify, I am not that which enables, I am not every act in itself... no, I am but the collective detritus of... choices, as it always is. A choice to deceive, rile...

Collectives... which can destroy both individuals, and, usually, smaller units... is not life special? They think hell is elsewhere, when they invent it, physically...

I feel no joy or sorrow at this, for I, myself, am not quite alive, although conscious... no, they who commit such acts all have individual motives that destroy...

Why, though... should I exist, at all... if only life was extinguished, if only... never are there mercies, though... ever... or life would not have come into being...

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Ghoul BlueFlesh:

We... in our realm, you see, not quite here... or there... we have evolved a certain... system, I suppose, although so has our biology, somehow, in parallel...

You see... we decided to use, to exchange, a certain quality, but only through consent... quite crucial, that. As brutish as we might seem on the outside... we would...

Not compromise on something as important as consent, regardless of the quantity one has within this system, mutual agreement is key... sure, even arbitration aligns so...

What is the point of that, otherwise, if it merely relies on whose number is highest? Might as well dispense with the facades... although, I suppose, if one wanted...

Merely a semblance of justice, I guess a facade would do... oh, what we use, as a sort of currency? Nearly forgot to mention... pain, but absolutely by mutual agreement.

Certainly no cowardly collectives destroying individuals... also, happens to be how our physicality evolved. We are, still, all about fairness, and no such disregard...

Even though our systemic exchanges are conducted as such... anyone, of any species, that goes beyond that, utilizing sheer brute force, for personal reasons... revolting.

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DoomDemon:

I... assist, shall we say... living beings to transition into that which they fear... nothingness. Why they fear it, I am not sure... as they knew it for so long...

Before ever setting foot in the conscious, physical realm.. why are they so attached to consciousness, though? Befuddles me. For existence is so wretched... sour, dreary.

Why would anyone ever want to remain among the existent...? Look at most of us, to start with... physical representations of the horror within life. Whether or not...

Regardless of whether they open their eyes to the gruesome aspects of life... exist, they do... even if they never see us as the symbols of such, the essences remain...

Do you reckon, though, when they see me approaching to whisk them away to a netherworld... afraid, they feel? Or would they, perhaps, recognize me as merely one facet...

Of the kind of actioned horrors they inflicted within life itself, that is now symbolically escorting them to the cradle of nothingness? Hm, somehow doubt those kind do.

Strange thing is... 'civilization', 'humane'? Who are they fooling? At least I wear my heart out on my sleeve, so to speak... can honesty not be bought anywhere?

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Alien:

We... where I live, which is not usually around these parts, how I ended up here I am not sure... we are... lives that revel in all sorts of physicality, for after all...

Existence is physical, why not be as physical as possible, then? No, I do not mean that as a synonym for 'exercise', although one does whatever one wants... no, we...

We constantly fight, battle, maul each other, even... limb by limb we tear at one another... being us, though, we do not, actually, do this with anyone who refuses...

I mean, is that not the definition of a sport? Unless someone distorts it, of course... not like, typically, someone is forced to play with a ball, or such... and, so...

We do not, either... we might live for the physical brutality, but only by consent, because doing anything else... is not us, despite our appearances... anyway...

I assume... regardless of outward demeanour... violations of the nigh sacredness of consent is as likely to be done by attractive beings in suits, as well as monsters...

Some might say... same difference... it is what is insidious about lives, though... one just cannot tell... no hints of anything that points towards intent...

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Monster:

I... am all that is processed through, in nature... not quite life itself, and yet its lifeless product... some might say... are there not quite some parallels?

That which is the result of life, and yet not quite alive, perhaps even verging towards death? Reminds me of anger... just floating, potentially leading to destruction...

Whether justifiable or not, whether something that leads to the selfishly etching away of another life, or in response to such... a product of life, and yet not quite...

Mass marketed, or such... no, a raw reaction between hormonal imbalances, it seems like, but unlike many other emotions this one seems more likely to affect others...

As opposed to motivation to avoid pain, fear... it is, almost, the opposite, from a contrasted actor of life... of course, being academic about this is kind of useless...

What seems to be the ultimate solution to so many apparent injustices based on such subjective imbalances? The eradication of all lives, I wager... such an aberration...

It is, though, always curious how I, somehow, seem monstrous, based on my appearance, and not, for a reason, they who have two faces of maddening social respectability...

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Mutant:

Oh...? You reckon I look hideous, do you? I am what I am, though... at least, I am someone, somewhere, as opposed to... well, certain lost souls, I suppose...

Who am I? I am those who appear one way, once... perfectly, reasonable... presentable, superficially... is not, at all, about principles, though... for why would one be?

Not that, of course, that is usually admitted... what is said, though, with no apparent trace of cognitive dissonance, is that certain affairs seem to be...

Predilected, shall we say, affairs that seem to be utilitarian, and yet... not quite the point, for something else is in play... violence, though? Its prevention?

Why would anyone strive for such a thing? Not unless one can, say, quid pro quo, per se... otherwise, though, it is quite, superficially, utilitarian... just as...

I suppose, I would look... perfectly presentable, in a suit and tie and all, hair coiffed, if one had such a thing... why should one explore what is underneath...?

I oft get tired of the explicitly brutish... why, one should know, subtlety exists for a reason... and then have it hidden in more layers, unless it's a square, hued box.

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Zombie B:

I... might be brainless, stalking those who barely have any more... but why should I be consigned to such a... realm? Such a... bloody domain of tropes... am I one...?

I might be far less interesting than those who feed on blood, instead, or, at least, much less idealized... but am I not an individual? Am I not someone separate from...

The rest of existence, by sheer virtue of my very own self? No? Perhaps not, categories, and all... hell, we seem to be seen as merely receptacles for violence, often...

I mean, really? At least vampires can communicate, even if they meet their demise at the end, in some way... but, no, we are, usually... as if newborns, actually...

Which is a rather odd thought, if I may say so... I mean, what does that say about the societies that produce such fiction? It might be non-reality, but it is based on...

Some foundational parallels, I suppose... and we are supposed to be just there to have violence inflicted upon us? By humans who, supposedly, have more of a brain...?

It does seem, though, regardless of the quantity of neurons, that empathy is seriously depleted in many... I wonder why, biologically speaking? No evolutionary need?

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InsectBeast:

Ah... have you come to be devoured by me? No? Why come here, then? Why can living beings not only approach me when they are ready to be devoured, seriously... oh, what?

You thought I would not even ask you, really? What do you think I am, human...? No, of course not, we gigantic, fantastical creatures of savagery...

We have certainly nothing in common with those strange oddities who somehow surpass most other living creatures in ruthlessness, and yet... seem to want to hide it...

No one else quite hides it, do they? We all wear our claws on our sleeves, so to speak, but oh, they have tools to do it for them, external factors like whole...

Collectives, to merely crush individuals... whether systematically, or in small units outside of larger cohesion... it is not like some of us do not do the latter...

At times... individuals, groups, sometimes act in ruthless ways... whole systems, though, societies? Imagine how brutal they would be if they lived in more than a planet.

For certain creatures there seem to be no principles, are there? Unless, of course, I seem to be a bit too optimistic, and in reality no life, at all, has any...

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ZombieMutant:

I am... a logical conclusion. The result of that aberration, life. It is all there is, anything else being a delusion, but then... it is also part of life, and a cascade.

What is, and is not? Could everything that is an outgrowth be, naturally? Any random mutations... actions, motivations... chaos. It is all that is in physics, inverted...

Into biology... which is life, chemistry being the mediator. It is that which is randomly denied, and explored in corners of existence. Anger, frustration, unfairness...

All part of life, biochemical, and so is... it which acts, binds, act crazed, raged... hurts, damages, selfishly... all part of life, is it not? Along with its obverse...

I could not know much about that, though, as a mere look could tell one that some seem... nigh destined for misery. If one survives, many do not. In some cases, enviable.

Why? There might be worse than death... just as the night terror is indicative of somnolence's black hole of terror... so it might be, hypothetically; life is overrated.

Those stuck in between the threshold of heaven and hell... might know how useful one state or another might be... but, then, I merely mutter from the gutter...

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ZombieKing:

You... seek that which you never dreamed of? Oh, I suppose you wonder how you could ever seek it, if you had not even some wild, subconscious fancy... well... you see...

It is not as if lives do not dream of any, and all possibilities, for that is the purpose of dreams... after a while, though, or in the case of the nocturnal ones...

Quite soon... all vanish, like evanescent, ethereal wings, floating into outer space... all disappear, for oft they are hopeless, or in the case of some nightmares...

Well, one's psyche acts as some sort of protective mechanism against a kind of direct, physical reality made out of rotting flesh... if you know what I mean...

Either way, both kinds of subconscious activity vanish into thin air, not unlike the brain I once had... for, one supposes, unless reality is directly a threat, or...

Well... one supposes, a realistic possibility, beyond envy and all such pettiness, then... I suppose it is rational to dream not, at times... other times, it is stolen...

How do I even happen to keep rambling on when I seem to have no physical, neural matter? Good question... perhaps a universal brain exists? Just putting it out there...

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Rabbit:

Oh, you... you who is deathly afraid of time? Time, though, is the physical quality that takes away that sharp edge off your memories... no? Off... life itself...

I suppose... if one loves life, then fear is rational, but why do you? Not so much about the positives you would lose, but the absolute nothingness you would meet?

It is what you knew for so long, though... an upside-down world, where physical reality is not quite real, and yet is... could contain many hues, but, generally...

Mostly life is an enabler of such sensual experiences... which, I suppose, an average life would miss, yes, but then... when darkness always seemed attractive...

When arbitrary, capricious actions defined life... when it is not so much just surreal, but brutal... not so much relative size, but chronological inevitabilities...

Oh, dear... is that not when you give in to the insanity? Embrace nonsense? Relish the Kafkaesque fundament of sociological violence? Perhaps, or rage against it all...

Is it not curious how you always seem to wonder how often you can procrastinate on so much? Time's end, though, could not quite be superseded... regret, eventually...

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Skeleton dragon:

I... yes, I seem to be sentient... why? No, really, do you have any idea why? I never asked to be... why am I, then? Just to remain and rot where I am? To merely ponder.

To do just that, and not anything else? For I am but a fossil, a relic of a long forgotten past, a symptom of it, and while one does not, usually, cogitate in...

Such a state... I seem to do so, even if not, necessarily, willingly... I suppose, I could try to stop thinking, in some sense, but that is not the point, is it?

How could one even do such a thing, if it seems an inevitable result of... existence? Is it consciousness, rather? I suppose, other fossils exist, but not necessarily...

Think too, do they? Well, one could not, with any certainty, know that, about another life... but, am I alive? Was I not... if I remember correctly...

Brutally stripped of that dimension of existence, long ago, when species were still differentiating? I remember falling into a darkness... and, then, this...

I... not quite, do I get, how one can reconcile one's existence to one's apparent memories... a veneer of acceptance? That one is barely alive?

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Scavenger:

Oh, you reckon, I supposed, based on my appearance, that I hunt down living creatures with the utmost of ferocity...? Uh... while I do do that, occasionally, for...

Why otherwise would I have evolved these fangs of vengeance... yet, I admit, I pale in comparison to... what a certain anthropoid species, and its collectivity, manages.

For, you see... we are solitary beings, even as a whole... we are vicious, individually... sociologically, though, the anthropoids hold an advantage over us...

Over our very mercilessness, they overcome... societally, they annihilate individuals, while we, despite our remorseless, physical exterior... merely play, in comparison.

Collectively, the anthropoids can be more brutal than any fang of vengeance... not that, say, ants do not do something similar... relatively, though... size matters...

Beyond that, though, the sociology that these anthropoids instituted, where one can both ignore inflicted brutality, and trap the victim within, as if voracious ghouls...

Yes, as I say... as fearsome as these fangs seem, and are, they are nothing in comparison to the insanity of anthropoid, sociological venom, like systemic Venus flytraps.

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Werewolf:

I am nightmares made flesh... every rage-induced actioned 'spear', I am that which cannot be contained, every atom of anger brains ever produced, every result from that.

Am I the self-destruction that follows from a chain reaction, though? Am I the resultant annihilation? The butterfly effect made real? The veil upon which one cannot see?

I am, actually, none of those... for, despite being a symbol of unmitigated fury, I am still not the action potential of any number of psychopathic thoughts. Uselessness.

Psychopathy, enabled only through societies, and not any monstrous legends, or other externalities... if collectives do not care, who does? Black holes. Infinite gravity.

The vortex that destroys, while in an otherwise, on average, stable world. Then, of course, the 'werewolf' is expected to... who knows? It is certainly not imaginary...

Not us, who is vile, not archetypal legends... oh, no, reality certainly takes care of that, without an obvious appearance, two-legged too, though... as it happens...

Is all the projection not amusing? Well, not unless reality vows to destroy oneself, I suppose, and even in this bestial form, whatever could I do? The real beast is who?

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Spider:

I... am every multi-legged nightmare of yours, from minute ones, to the biggest potentials of fatal finalities. Why, though, are you so afraid? Do you not wish for...

Utter oblivion? Do you not desire, at the very least, permanent forgetfulness from all that time wrought? Why, then, do you fear the potential venom I might contain?

Did you not already sustain more than enough sociological venom to be nigh immune? Although, I suppose, one understands metaphors are distinct from actual chemistry...

Still, did all that not render you barely willing to live anymore? Do you not just exist, now? The reason why we are here, at all, reason chaos and entropy are limitless.

Ah, that concept, which one presumes is something abstract, and yet can be so subjective, too... why we grow ever larger, why your existence is invariably broken, and...

How these could, hypothetically, combine to end the very world. The one from a Buddhist hell might have failed, but I could not... one's nightmares might manifest yet...

I am quite like you, actually, which, I suppose, is why we co-exist, for now... we thrive on the rotting carcass of the past, but while for me it is others', for you...

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Alien B:

Do I... repulse you? Does your life not make you feel similarly? What is the difference? At least, my appearance is honest... not that, I suppose, some do not...

Look as they act... but here I am, as vicious as one can outwardly seem, yet having a mere conversation, not shredding you to bits... why would I do that when I can...

Merely leave it to those so-called homo sapiens of ignorance... why, that is nature's trick, you see, how every species looks perfectly normal to others of the same...

The whole point of biology, universality... "if they seem somewhat similar, can they possibly be more harmful than... a shark, or so?" That is when they maul you...

Crush you completely unexpectedly, whereas I... would not, for why I would I merely fulfil everyone's stereotypical expectations? Go ahead, I suppose, stupid ones, and...

Destroy your own kind, for that is what you like doing, no? Until your species is extinct would you ever cease? Life, a mere aberration of random pain and desperation...

You can never just relax and relish, can you? That is it, destruction's trick, to be delivered to the arms of eternal misery. Do they not cradle so? These limbs of mine.

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Clown:

Ah, this tune, do you witness? One of chaos, mirth, and yet tragedy, and what better symbol of all that social nonsense? Why, everyone should dress up as a clown, for...

That is all they are, regardless of how else they want to depict, or perceive, themselves... everyone's merely a banal box of idiocy, and that especially applies to...

Those supposedly lofty, theoretically rational, social acts... most fundamental of relations make them the most ludicrous; legal systems, what a joke, eh? I am honest...

At least, right? These absolute dolts, they pretend to be serious, yet still use some ridiculous wig as dirty as their profession... clowns do not assume anything is...

Serious, at least, in this horrid, yet stupid world; jokers is all we are, laughing at the tragic result this pretence leads to, and I do not say it with no knowledge...

Regardless of that, though, or whether anyone tries to be truly rational... never any real striving for justice, is there? Equity? Fairness? Are they irrational?

So, this is where I choose to rot, now, where all lost souls gather; a certain limbo, failings of these supposed rationalities... pitiful how the enablers would not...

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Skele:

Why is it you... resist? Why do you not give in to eternal oblivion? It is what has always been there, and will be there... a mere blip, this is... an error, misshapen...

Like you, is that not so? Just as life itself, consciousness perhaps, is an aberration, so are you, more than anything, and delaying the end is pathetic procrastination.

Why do you, then, not join that eternal mass of lifeless existence you knew once...? Oh, some of us have uttered some mere words that made you make the error and think...

That there is something positive? In this horrid world, full to the brim with psychopaths and the pain they inflict so mindlessly? How do words outweigh the latter?

It is, almost, incomprehensible, how you pretend to be rational, like certain other systems, and yet act, and think too, so fundamentally irrationally... even if it is...

Out of necessity, yes... irrationality still pervades this world, and only breeds more of it, just as hate does, anger... no positivity, only dark, torrid bleakness...

It is, though... 'cute', shall we say, that mere... lifeless avatars; symbols, mouthpieces, just because they followed the melody of fantasy... made you think there is...

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Elephant anthropoid:

Do you... seriously... hope in some sort of far-fetched possibility that is otherwise as irrational as any other type of afterlife, just to see beyond your subjectivity?

I suppose... I would understand... if it was at all rational, even if it did exist, to go through with it, if the odds were on your side, to be... reincarnated...

Shall we say... but do you not see? All begin life in a pool of blood, in a sterile environment where hues are non-existent... psychopaths pervade this world, and...

They might, as well, operate within such beginnings, for nowhere is safe from those who lack empathy... and, that is but everyone's start... what chance is there, for...

Any creature, anywhere, to... have a better beginning, even if one's current sordid affair ended...? I would wager... odds are not many. It might possibly be...

More likely that all of life ended, all at once, somehow, than if... a single life, born randomly, would have an existence that is net positive... world is that sordid...

That is, of course, only presuming that there is such a function that recycles biology, per se, and, I suppose, I might look odd, expressing doubt, being who I resemble.

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Flesh Demon:

Limb from limb I can detach you... like the puny scoundrel you are, and always were... what even is the point of you? What is the point of anything? Anyone knows?!

So tired of asking, honestly... what even is the point of wondering, writing, talking? Might as well knit my own mouth shut for all the use it gets... would that also...

Not merely be in tune with the vibe of this putrid world? If you look at my exterior you would just think that I am but reflecting all that is out there... am I, though?

Or has all that is out there turned me into this...? Which comes first, chicken or egg? That is, actually, a slightly easier question than this one... I suppose...

In parallel, one might discuss epigenetics, if one were to tackle the possibilities of environmental changes... I assume, though, whatever I got going on... is just...

Genetics, I suppose? What am I even mumbling about...? I should just end myself, for all the use my brawn is getting... all I do is scare aware creatures, then I talk...

Apologies if I depressed you a slight bit... or confused you... I am not entirely sure why I am here, myself... honestly... is it some sort of holding place? Hanger?

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Mutant B:

Grr... why are you so lousy...? Worn out? Deflated? All humbug for a fiercesome creature as myself... I terrify, and act terrifically in equal proportions... quite well.

No, seriously... why would anyone ever look at this wretched existence as anything other than something that needs to be... mauled, almost? Like, everything...

Just shredded to pieces! Or... at least those that deserve such a fate... as lethal as I am, and that I am... I am still no... what were they called, again? Humans? Or...

Such... whatever that means. As devastating as I look... and I know my looks are that... I still do not kill for... sport, was it? As vicious as I look, and my fangs are.

I... still do not, quite, think I am... fully, at least, a psychopath... oh, my theory is that to be such a creature one needs a certain... blending in technique...

Sort of thing... and, well, certain creatures, as myself, do not, exactly, blend in with the "well, this could be a harmless fellow..." - sort of crowd... you know?

I got to... 'hand it to' them, if that is the correct implication... psychopaths are... quite insidious... more so than this horrific appearance of mine, certainly...

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Demon C:

You. Do you not belong to the bowels of hell, whence you came?! How do you roam here free, then...? Oh, oh? You are... not exactly free, are you? No, for how can that be?

Is that it, then? You roam about... just to see how much is inaccessible to you? How much you envy, desire, and yet a glass, darkly, prevents you... quite the strategy...

Render you unstable, unable to form any meaningful connections, more likely to go too far, or too little of anything positive... anything you truly desire, you just...

Can never seem to have, can you? Forever, there... like some museum piece, forever impossible... I could not have devised a better outcome for maximal struggle, myself...

Not that, I suppose, it was even devised, per se... no, for a lion does not, quite, devise its mauling, its mundane dinner, and so you were never part of any great plan.

Why, if you were you would be worth more than the pathetic self you truly are, would you not? No, you were destroyed and left to flail... for no special reason...

All you can do is speculate, right? The special thing is, though, that regardless of your knowledge, or lack thereof, it would change nothing; broken you would still be.

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Mutant Ghoul:

I... am that of past epochs, once upon a dark, grim time... rigged a certain hue, I, a horrid creation, as you see I was... in my acts I self-actualized, for it was all.

I might not have looked as such, back when... which, I presume, helped... here, though, this... I remember... where I derived my pleasure, from... I, to despise...

The concept of empathy more unknown than quantum mechanics, at the time; hater of Maries, but society... what excellent enablers, eh? Oh, I do not refer to my fate...

That is certainly 'cute', if I may use that word, looking as I do... of societies, though, is it not? First they let me do... again, and again, and again...! Bloodlust!

Oh, but they then blame me...? Only for a mistake, too... present-day they would call it, what, 'manslaughter'? To sate my sadistic fury, verily! To blame me, though...

To curse me, just before my demise? Guess what... enablers, my neighbours in hell! While they had to soothe much less of their fuming soul, sociology killed her! Welcome!

Always 'amuses' me, how societies... all through every horrid age, cared not for anything apart from death, for some reason... what, do they think it is binary? Magical?

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Ghoul:

Who... are you? Are you... a product of your past? Am I? I presume so... could anyone not be? Could someone be a product of the future? Not unless the arrow of time...

Reverses, I suppose... I was not born as such, no, but the world, being horrid... it assumes no responsibility, of course... privatize successes, discard failures...

Their turgid motto is... even if they created, molded the failures... no, even made sure that was inevitable, for terrible is their middle name... hypocrisy their first.

I mean, even within multiplaying systems of five, or so, it is hopeless if even one or two do everything to lose, I hear... imagine, thousands, against one... no chance.

That is what is so vile about societies... when nature's die is cast to one's advantage, and it is always random... no matter how self-assured some are of their success.

Then societies function well, and one would need to go out of one's way to turn collectives against oneself, but when nature randomly screws you over? Society does, too.

One, at some point, can only rot by oneself, as that appears to be the nigh most rational option, in the circumstances... psychology is curious, though... in hindsight...

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Undead Soldier:

What... happened... to... me...? I was... somewhere... suddenly, nowhere... what do you reckon happened? I mean, if it is what I wonder it might have been, then...

I am here... am I not? Could I be hallucinating all this? Could the previous incident, instead, be the illusion, perhaps? Nothing makes sense... again, then, though...

Is anything supposed to make sense? When everyone is born... nothing makes sense, does it? So, why does one expect everything to make sense at any other point in time...

Regardless of how anything made sense prior, or since... ugh, I suppose, I should rather just get used to not much making sense... it is, after all, an aberration, life.

The norm... appears to be... not life. Things exist, but do not necessarily live... and, often, I wonder how much better it would be if absolutely everything was so...

For life appears to be a horrible aberration... full of nothing but misery, tragedy, with the latter not always, even, being accidental, natural, if others were inclined.

I tire of this stupidity... vitality? What an absurd implication... nothing is vital except nothingness itself, the only pervader of all... and life itself is not health.

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Mastosaurus:

I... am the spirit, the ghoul of demons, the spectral eternity... of those who, merely by chance... happened to be at an advantage due to their societies' sordid affairs.

I... with all of my invisible quantities... mere numbers agreed upon by human collectives, I... unencumbered, unleashed... crushed those who were just... so measly, so...

Unfortunate? I suppose... it is kind of understandable how a bear, or such, might have an advantage over smaller creatures, but... currencies? Mere hypothetical amounts?

Not even real... promised. One, apparently, can murder on the wings of a promise... not always, one still needs luck, if one desires to run out one's clock. Then again...

If one was initially lucky... what is the likelihood one will be once more...? Depends on the specific society's psychopathy, of course, as opposed to the randomness...

Of nature... in conclusion, both artificial, human structures, and the inherent chaos of existence... present quite the challenge to those at a disadvantage, no?

One might think I am a creature of some long-forgotten past... I live, though, in every living psychopath... sharing, as if, a single brain of atrocities... just physics.

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Werewolf B:

I was... relegated, one could say, from a certain neuronal state, which one knew not, exactly, what it was... all I knew is that there was a change, and while...

Not all changes are negative, this one was... from day to night, almost, the difference was that radical... whatever I was before, I barely remember... well, I got...

Memories... like dreams, though, they are... evanescent... which life itself seems to be... and, I am, and was, not entirely sure, what to do... one tried to be the...

More ideal form one was, once... when melody was palpable, despite the wasteland... when one was alive, regardless of present technicalities... I remained, though, in....

This broken form, this transformation that... for some reason many think is superior, and yet could not be more worthless when it comes to mere joys... not that...

I suppose... one could not witness the faraway call of seagulls, metaphorically... I could, still, never defeat the future's destruction of the past, just due to time...

Is this existence not horridly ironic? The future, which is now the past, creates the present... long after the future is gone... when it is buried, dust, and nothing...

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Magmadar:

Do you ever wonder... why? Why is anything? What possible motives...? Could some destroy for... none at all? At least, no discernable ones... I am that of which...

Incomprehensibility is made of... a random assault that results in... nothingness. Why? Does anything need a reason? Existence itself barely has one... why, then...

Do you reckon... life needs one? Taking away of life needs one? If an avalanche buries hundreds, does it have some inherent rationale... beyond a physical reaction...?

I am, that... ferocity, brutality... no one knows why I exist, but then that is the same of life, generally... would it not be better if Thanatos reigned? If...

Nothingness... soothed every atom... sure, that strange fellow, Eros, at times appears in random places, but death is what is the default, the ultimate entropic state...

Consider that, then, if you will, to forfeit what little you have, to join the collective unconscious... as terrifying as you might imagine it to be, full of psychopaths.

I gaze at all that never was, destined not to be, for eternal torture and damnation, for life is all that is horrid, and should have never been; insanity is interesting.

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Hanging:

I... need to end it all. Too... broken... presume nothing can ever be fixed... beyond all recognition, that was once... is no more... quite unlikely to ever be again...

Then, again... I think it was all an illusion, as one's psyche can be deceptive... when mental resources run out, then... unfortunately, courage seems to have been, too.

Only reason why this wreck of a life, somehow, persists... quite an ironic reason, really, but then... still fits, suppose... so much can go wrong... could end up...

Even worse, if that was possible... even more alive while dead, somehow... until all is dead, suppose, some parts may still be alive, even if they hang by a thread... oh.

Metaphors, and all... until the end, suppose. Some barely know the effect it might have on others, though... all that violence, pure selfishness, just to etch away at...

Life... whatever there was... and now even the destroyer is destroyed, as nature does... cause and effect are never reversed, though... no hope... only bleak persistence.

I wonder if, ever... courage can be summoned... so ironic that it is needed as a result of fear... eternal darkness, though, is fearsome... and the exact calculations...

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Monster 785:

Are you, perchance... wondering who I am? Why, I happen to be... a spirit, the spirit, if one can act in such a collective fashion... of all those who escaped any...

Sense of justice, or equality of sort... of course, 'escapes' happen for all sorts of reasons, from being subtle about an act, to not so much act subtly, for often...

Societies are just fine, you know? One can do whatever, up to a point, and they are just relaxed... for who cares what happens to pint-sized strangers, as long as...

They are not killed... for which civilized society would want that, right? As long as one can legislate all sorts of inane nonsense, who cares, even if futures destroyed.

I suppose, even that can be waived if said societies are in some sort of war, or such, but that goes beyond my remit slightly... I believe Ares handles that... myself...

Not like I approve of anything these psychopaths did, mind; as existence would have it, though, I am but a vessel of all their selfishness, even if dead without justice.

I suppose, if I was human myself I would retch, with all this horror; or I might not, if I was like them, not a mirror neuron in sight, oxytocin as theoretical as souls.

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Orc:

I... such a special role I ended up with, as if it makes a difference, as if anyone else desires it... still, I do, despite not being any decision-maker, I do...

What I do... is being an executor, but not quite a murderer... for, if states decide it, somehow then... as if by magic... it is no longer murder, do you not know?

Crucially, though... I do not decide, myself... legal systems do that, and everyone knows how infallible those are... it is quite something, though, is it not? Even if...

I do not decide... quite something to... legitimately kill... as if an administrative god... even those others, who relish their violence... can never wholly destroy...

For if they do... well, states do like to have that sole capability, in the name of a perverted sense of justice, of course... why, even replying a murder with another...

Logical... no? While the violent ones have free rein... I do too, albeit pre-judged... in a sense, then, while the psychopaths have an advantage... I can do one more act.

Oh, you thought I was a psychopath? Eh, it is mostly another, although extreme, career... real psychopathy is when one uses societies' leeway to inflict violence on...

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GothicStatue:

I suppose, you reckon... I am not sentient, and all... oh, but you would be remiss, for in existence there is... unfortunately, to some eyes... far more than you imagine.

Far more... suffering, anguish, rotting away until death... is life not sweet? Sometimes, it is all one can do, to write, until one is one with oblivion... consciousness.

Though... is it not the epitome of horrid concepts? As interesting as it may seem, superficially... it is, fundamentally, sadistic... existence presenting sentience to...

Itself, I suppose... it is never consensual, though, and that is what is so horrible... never, not once in existence, did life come about just because that life wanted...

Those fools even worshipped a supposed creator of this awful madness, too? What kind of insanity is that? There is no such thing, at any rate, regardless of mentalities.

Chaos is all there is, nihility in physical form, that inevitably ended up using... pain, almost like an existential currency... and psychopathy, naturally, developed...

I oft try to imagine all the suffering that must have transpired throughout all of time, from all lives... and, what, other than a psychopath, would argue life worthy?

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Mutant fighter:

I... once, while alive... I relished life, just my own, though... why should one care about others? Even if defenceless, I was brutal, as I felt to be... as I was wont...

I... a harr that was, or is... back then... a gate to any and all empathy, merely hearsay... I tilled, not just soil, but her life out of her; society proved, as usual...

Quite accepting of my heartless desires, so many decades ago... judged no evidenced, the absolute hilarity... although, yet again, I did not, technically... kill her...

No, would that not be society, that collective of putrid humans? Myself, merely the tool to destroy the one named after the concept of grace, which she knew nothing of...

I tilled her mere decade out of her, and then went forth to relish my six more... and, now, I am where? In some sort of underworld? I noticed the law officer, nearby...

That society entrusted me as an accomplice, just to destroy her... in an attic she remained... while I adored my life, society savoured their psychopathy... such liberty.

What, you thought after dying and turning to dust, that... we think differently? Oh, no, if we could revive ourselves, just to torture the weakest more, with societies...

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Cthulhu:

Hate... is what I was born from, horror made manifest... and it is what I collect, now, what I represent... a symbol to all the pain inflicted by pure, raw hatred...

Unmitigated bile that spews forth even if it destroys the initiator... curious, is it not? Almost the only thing done out of no regard for oneself... selfish, yet not so.

This emotion that is unleashed in all sorts of forms, it is what I symbolize, and, yet, I am, actually, a mere figment of someone's imagination, a chimera of human vices.

I am not one specific incident, or another... or even just a random act of violence, or one done by nature, no... I am that which is forthwith this loathing, at the crux.

Not as a result of anything, or even interaction, no... a priori is interesting, is it not? Especially when it destroys oneself... homicidal, yet suicidal, unconsciously.

It is all I am, and was ever. That moment in time when venom is spit, that destruction of another for no reason other than existence; why, it makes one hate life itself.

Beseech anyone who could, do I, usually, to... end this existential madness, if possible. All of life should be extinguished... only then can suffering cease... forever.

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Swamp Monster:

My claws... represent every time violence is enacted, every time force pushed through weakness as if it is some physical inevitability... it is I, the psychopath's hit...

To be clear, I am not just every stab, even if claws seem only useful for that, no, for I am a more abstract being... neither the psychopaths themselves, nor...

Their weapons, methods to inflict pain... some in the name of justice, mind, for it is what society is glad with. Regardless of life's future destruction, psychopathic...

Societies... need to destroy, those who stand opposed to them, but also... weak, useless creatures, far smaller than the grandiosity of our monstrosity... inflict harm...

Ideally not too much, not to utter destruction... up to it, though? Why not, right? Who cares about the weakest, after all? Certainly not a weapon, such as I...

Certainly not the psychopaths to whom... no, we shall not be explicit about that; societies, though, still want them broken, even if some of these urchins escape luckily.

If only I was not a mere symbol, representative of every bloodthirsty infliction of cruelty... if only I was as real, to... hurt the weakest, myself... limb from limb...

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Monster reptilian:

I shall be... frank, if I could... I am... a vessel, currently, for the one who is yet to come is still, actually, alive... as I await for them, though, I can still feel.

Think, and feel what they think and feel... mainly the latter, as that is what psychopathy generally lends itself to... I shall, then, establish... connections...

Although, one might be algebraic... I am a vessel for two, which I await to my infernal bosom. Business partners, seems like, sadism advertised like it was going...

Out of sale, with quite some definition... we loved torturing them, spicing up certain affairs... only problem was... societies just cannot decide, can they? How is it...

Some can torture to their hearts' content, without anyone bothering to lift a finger... well, unless it is used to inflict violence, of course... while others... ah...

It was the fact so many knew, was it not? Societies, then, are shy about that; if only a few know, under the carpet it goes... potentially millions? Ah, prosecution...

What lovely legal systems, eh? They do function as they purport to do, but only in some cases; wealth, if said psychopaths make such errors, or if they go too far, kill.

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Dragon:

Do ye know, as much as I try to compete with those anthropoids, and I am a serpent who somehow lives despite being torn asunder... I spit venom like they breathe, yet...

I can never quite be on par with their... language, is it? I suppose, we can communicate, but there is something else to what they do... something systemic, insidious...

I mean, it does not require much to merely be violent, all creatures have such a capability and will, but to... institute it? Systematize it? Seal it shut, horror's mark?

That takes something... not even ants, I believe, who also collaborate in their societies, create systems of such widespread cruelty; I have been studying these bipeds...

As much as certain species would like to emulate the efficient brutality, despite being closer to natural chaos... I do not know what the issue is. Lack of oxytocin?

I have noticed that this occurs in many individuals within species, but never have I noticed whole systems set up just to ensure cruelty is protected and inflicted...

It is kind of ironic, having literally no heart, myself, that I still seem unable to comprehend how most just do not care about others, some even their very own genes...

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Crusader:

All these creatures... I must defeat, I must vanquish, for they are an abyssal state, the basest of all levels of existence, therefore... I must... annihilate, I venture.

I... am who? I am the... one of the... humans they seem to think so little of... it would, ergo, be rational to battle them, and destroy them... although, why do they...

Claim to be... abstract? How can beings be abstract? I am not such, and I am here, so how could they... represent so many different qualities, too? Some even claim to...

Be some sort of past... reincarnations, was it? I mean, how is that possible? They claim they have so much in relation to humans, despite not at all looking human...

Most absurd claim, though, is that they do not seem to understand how we can be so brutal? Coming from all sorts of distorted monstrosities? I... ah... no... maybe...

Perhaps, I understand... I have done some terrible things myself, regardless of my 'humanity', although I regret them... some do not even do that. Is that symbolized?

Now that I reflect upon their words... mayhap they make sense, and this crusading is just yet another human, mindless activity... I would rather interlocute, for now...

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Dragon Beast:

I... represent no one, and nothing, for that is my purpose, to reduce the worst to... nothing... if only this entire planet can be, too; it begs, relishes to be nothing.

It began with a pearl, as most vile affairs do, and one of a supposed prominent place... reducing to dust an archangel who, apparently, announces divine will... horridly.

One clearly is unable to look any further into this bottomless abyss, for sadistic psychopathy is infinite, and nothing surpasses 'humanity' at that, no... if only...

Though... if only one can go back in time and save he who was annihilated. Vengeance is... at best, temporarily cathartic... life, though, this putrid aberration...

The very mechanism to life... should be uprooted, cast out like the error it was... or creatures who feel immeasurable pain will continue to do so... sentient existence.

It is most vile... as much as I would like to destroy the destroyers... it would never undo the torture, murders. Society responded, but so... so... so... late...

I am supposed to be the beast, yet mere words break my spirit. More time passed than he spent living, yet all one can do is give up on pursuing any further knowledge...

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Ape:

An anthropoid, am I... not quite the type that currently populate thereabouts... I think, something might have gone wrong, there... genetically, distorted, twisted...

You see, it is not like we, their closest ancestors, do not fight... all lives do, even single-celled organisms conflict, even elemental molecules... something is wrong.

I mean, I suppose, one can wonder, could not life itself be inherently cruel? Sure... even the act of living seems to be, with joy merely incidental... predators, prey...

Exist in all species, but... something else happened to so-called homo sapiens, although homo saevus would be more apt... something happened... in their very chromosomes.

They became as twisted as their violent desires... now, violence is mutually-destructive, and individuals usually do not realize that. They, though, humans, enacted...

Whole structures that systematize violence, that ignore the plight of those who can do the least about the worst psychopaths near them, and, I reckon, it is within DNA...

How else... could it be so pervasive? Not just the worst instances, like whirlpools that swallow life to oblivion, but an ocean of misery that destroys and spits out...

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Forest Creature:

I have come to... oh, you there... moi happens to be the... personification of nature, you see, and I seem to be the only one who notices the creature at the other end...

Why do you reckon that is? He seems so vicious, ready to strike at any moment, with that sword of his, that pointed weapon of pain, or death... is he not one of those...

Who... in the outer world, external to this strange limbo... I believe it is formally known as Earth... is he not one of those who ravish and ravage? One of many...

As if... germs, multiplying endlessly... just to be fair, actual germs can still insidiously kill them, and they certainly are not, quite, able to use a sword against...

Such microscopic beings... I guess, the great, vile things have a weakness, after all... well, most other flora and fauna are also susceptible... amusing thing is...

They only managed to halt the progress of one virus that affects them, one that does not... many other creatures went extinct due to them, but just one microscopic germ.

Just think that is irony, at best, when they decimate so much of life, including their own weakest members... sadism is useless against what is nigh invisible...

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Bat:

I have come here to... forthwith bring about the tearing asunder of... life itself, if possible... can I how, though? For it is only, ever, at an individual level...

It would need to be universal, though... although, I believe that is, still, confined at the planetary scale, from what we know... if it is not all lives, though...

They will always regenerate, from the tiniest of cells, or whales... now, it is not, as if, I mean to make anyone vanish more than those humans... whales certainly...

They have the most hypnotically, melancholic sounds, do they not? As opposed to... whatever in the fresh living hell humans produce... even their worst noises, though...

Even they are nothing in comparison to... even the most widespread diseases... and it is not even the scale of it, that is the problem... nature does magnitude itself...

Nature follows chaos, though... unwilling, random entropy... not quite the specifically vile intentions humans often have. They are, really, evolution at its most cruel.

This is, actually, kind of why our type, the... externally obvious, horror trope kind of creatures... just do not appear in the world of the living, anymore...

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Demon B:

Came here, did I, from an underworld, for at times... not much difference, there is... one sees, often, that the two are one... it is those rare instances where...

Physical spaces mean little... qualitatively, distinct domains exist, but only within the psyche, one sees... unfortunately, for those few who visit underworlds...

While alive, here... so sad, but time does not, quite, compress too, just as space does... and, so, years are, at best, wasted... at worst, of course, lives are tortured.

They claim that demons, stereotypically, commit such actions... projection, clearly... all I seem to specialize in is psychology, possibly... no, the real demonic...

Elements... if archetypes were used, as metaphors... are, collectively, societies, of course... I think, though, as others have surmised, there is something...

Qualitatively distinct about human societies... it is not so much the individual act of violence, specifically... it is the collective rationalization, that is demonic...

I am here to... somewhat learn about them, actually... but, it does seem, as if, it is a case of... a lost cause... a hopeless, useless affair called life...

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Zombie Son:

All this bloodshed, all of that pain, and for what? Some dead atoms' instinct? Desires? Penchants? Hunger? Thirst for blood? Boredom? Randomly referencing a marquis?

You see, at least us... in need of a brain, and all... other creatures, in need of blood... have actual needs, no? I suppose, destroying lives to sate one's temporary...

Requirements... is still not an amazing excuse, but just as some seem to compensate for something by being noisier, needlessly... some destroy lives not out of need...

It is, especially, clear when one is dead... is it not? Well, one or the other... is it not curious how, regardless of how utterly dust the destroyer is...

Regardless of how much time passes... it never does, correct? Society is always there, if not endogenous memories, to remind you that not only were they proud to allow...

Such nigh annihilation... some could not care less, presently, and not only did you have no past, but you have no future, and only death is the release... although...

Well, that is... where the source of nightmares resides, no? The state of total oblivion from which fear illuminates? The suit that nearly took your life, and is in hell?

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Creature mutant:

Myself, and I... are what keeps changing, out there... every evolutionary outburst, functional only towards survival, regardless of anyone and anything, purely ruthless.

Every altered gene, every chromosome, chemical transfused to... hurt others, just for one's sole survival... presumably, then, you realize... it is all of life...

All lives evolve to be... more violent, more ruthless, more uncaring... until every metaphorical heart is detached from every microcosmic mirror neuron... it is all...

There is to life... all... just cruelty. You have seen it. It is why collectives do not, on average, care any more than any mechanical device does, truly... it is all.

What else did you expect? Sure, nature... at times... has safeguards, but only when it comes to certain small subsets... if those fail, just as births themselves do...

Well, then... welcome to hell, sordid creature of useless misery. Why, you must wish you were one of us now, do you not? Undead, ethereal, already stuck in some circle...

Circles? Ah, no, my mistake, that was centuries ago. Here, we have... corridors, fading lightbulbs, despair on tap... welcome to the hell you wish existed, broken life...

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Sci Fi Character:

You... uh... are you... who I think you might be...? Well, you might know even less about me, but... I might be you... from another timeline, for you see, universe is...

Well... as interesting as you thought it might be, in your most fervent of delights, those rare moments when you forgot, while you lived during that time of... well...

Either way... I was able to live maximally, unencumbered by any random disregard by collectives, not because in other timelines they care any more, no... luck is all...

So... I lived, and maxed out my potential... which, apparently, decades away, at least, in optimal circumstances, meant that... in combination with AI, and other...

Sorts of technological advancements, meant that... it might not mean much to you now, but I effectively am able to live within my own, customized universe, altered by AI.

In your timeline, though... I do not think such capabilities will be possible, as there are far too many lives going unfulfilled, indifferent societies, science halted.

Tragedy of the commons... so many selfishly pursue what they desire, even if others are murdered, that certain paths are unrealized, a better future for all impossible...

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Monster B:

I shall destroy... or not... after all, if I can get others to do it for me... why not? There is... something, to... others who... want to do it themselves... quite...

I mean... most things, 'chores', actions, 'work'... most would rather not do, unless... and certain affairs do not even qualify as the above, but some... invent, lie...

Use one of those words to indicate... freedom... and, yet, everyone still keeps treating it in some strange, mundane fashion, as if historical events, borne out of...

Such lies... mean nothing, as if... and that concerns... many. So, why should one care when it is... some random individual? How do you even expect anyone to care...

Even when individuals are murdered... oh, I mean, society pretends to care... just after, of course, as if it makes an iota of a difference, besides doing what caused...

The murder in the first place (indifference), because hurting others is societies' motive, and that is exactly why they act... only after death... for hell is Earth...

I am guessing you did not expect me to be analytical, but I have not evolved as such for anything other than defend myself; homo crudelis, on the other hand, unevolved.

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DarkDemon:

Am I, I am... creature inside of you, the oni of your dreams, every demonic impulse... every atom of despair, every drop of misery; you know me, I am that which can...

Never quite be expressed, and yet try one does... why, though? No one cares. Not more than the hypothetical rope by which you meet your future demise, likely, would care.

The only acknowledgement by other, speaking creatures... merely to tell you to end it all, and who knew? It turned out to be a rational proposition, after all... why...

I do not suppose, you reckon, the ratio of positivity/negativity in your life is at all balanced? Desired? So what if there is a minute amount of... fantasy, really...

Delusions... all life is about. Only difference being... for some others; entertained they are, luck on their side, as if health itself, as if the right number of genes.

To merge once more with the universe... why would you lack the courage? So many others are compelled... only time a decision can be made... as opposed to the beginning...

What else would one do? Just keep writing for no apparent reason? Lay in darkness, and only occasionally experience just an iota of joy? Suffering by procrastination...

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Statue:

What... am... I...? Once, long ago, it seems... I fell, succumbed to morosity... swallowed whole by melancholy, I was, but not because... it was some external entity...

I let... and, then... I froze in time, I solidified... it was, as if, I met Medusa herself... and that was all... I am not even sure what, originally, prompted it...

It was so long ago, as if a lifetime, as if a dream... as if death told a story... as if, one realized beyond rationality... "what is the point?" That is all.. was all...

For, truly, what is the point? Lives... scurry around, doing things, whatever... some, though, hurt others, for nature evolved sickly... and, then... what? Is that all?

The purpose of some lives is merely to destroy other lives? Whether broken, or utterly... and, then... what? That is it? Dust, then... what? Is the joy derived from...

The destruction... within the ashes? Intertwined among the skeletal remains? I would rather be petrified, as I am now, than live in this sordid world... horrid society...

How can one, otherwise... genuinely, ever... find joy, again? No promise of anything beyond that, I suppose, even if... once, with compartmentalization, somehow... no...

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Parazite Alfa:

The unknown in the universe... is me. I am, though, just a symbol, not the quality of the unknown itself... I reside here, there... now you can see me, but other times...

You... along with everyone else, to varying degrees... fear me, do you not? You fear the future, for resources are depleted, mostly the... ethereal, shall we say, psyche.

I suppose, it is not really so, but so little is known of the 'mind', that it might as well be ethereal for you, no? Is it not... hilarious? How you thought you knew...

So much more about yourself, how you would react at some point in the future, just because you attempted to observe, in the past... not how existence functions, though...

Change is constant... and it can be both qualitative, along with quantitative; one's error often is in confusing one for the other... generally, much harder to predict...

Paradigm shifts, shall we say... like dams bursting open in your damn mind... and not because I unearthed it with my scythe... no, you can destroy yourself very well...

You got distracted just now, did you not...? It is, also, a sign, actually... of your dissolution, impending insanity; one might wonder if the unknown is feared. It is...

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Gorosaurus:

Societies... are they not delectable creatures? Speaking of which, I embody them... I am what is left if one was to personify societies... collectives in one... sordidly.

I... pretend to care, but never really admit it is but pretence, for why would I when I can have both the cake and eat it? Why would I have a cake and not eat it? Anyway.

I pretend that... each constituent of society is not really, in reality, looking out for just themselves... which, of course, they are... nature of life, and all...

We build... something, algebraic, say, and defend it at all costs. Therefore, we are doing so for what that symbol represents, in reality... I mean... well, you see...

Who cares about lives, when one can merely defend some mathematical notation at a fraction of the cost, am I right? I am, therefore, society... monopolies of violence....

I, and only I... well, those who subscribe to an eye for an eye, anyway... can take your life... but only after you completed your job at destroying your weakest, verily.

I am... psychoses over millennia; a mere amalgamation of lucky individuals, alongside broken fools who are actually, theoretically, luckier than those Moloch devoured...

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Beatle:

Ah, nature... I assume you reckon it is where I come from? As if, somehow, you are separate from it? Oh, wait, that was those... sapiens, was it? The absolute irony...

Perhaps, homo supercilium? Anyway, are you not more 'at home' in a shell of your former self, so negative, in a world so grim? I suppose, imagine if you were optimistic.

You would be at constant odds with reality... not that, I suppose still, that if the creature next to me, representative of collectives, enabled certain... affairs...

I suppose... I mean, you could be reasonably optimistic, and I know, as our type of lives also rely quite a bit on collective structures; masses voting for corruption...

Though? Consciously, too? Against their own interests? Just so some buddies who happen to be connected get some cream? Oh, human societies are truly something to behold.

The intentionality aspect is the crux, of course... if one does something to promote corruption, or, inversely, hurt others... unintentionally, it would be different...

I tire of all, honestly... can I not merely seclude myself entirely, and somehow still survive? Far away from any hubbub... any collective, conscious cruelty...

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Monster C:

Witness... me. I am the true form of a human. Beyond the usually plain-looking, typically nothing outstanding externality of most, it is myself; a monstrous internality.

To be fair... not every one. Some look worse... a variety of creatures, just outside here, all symbolic of all they are, psychologically... generally, though...

Is it not... 'funny'... how all of them look only minutely different, regardless of what they are really like? One could be charitable, another could kill dozens, yet...

All that seems to stand in between them... a different hairstyle, or such. Thus, I was born, borne out of your need to see yourself as you truly are... see a...

Non-existent hell... for, verily, a limbo is all one can hope for... not an afterlife, no... after all, they are all mental states. That heavenly nectar you tasted?

Are delusions not interesting? It is what consciousness is... selective mutism. A highlight... a torch, to light up the bowels of hell itself, with an expectant Moloch.

Ye who adores your own species for spurious reasons, human... consider me, gaze upon this eternal abyss that is the reality of your collective psyche...

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GastaroidQueen:

A relic of an age-old past, is what I am... I might not be in reality, but then, neither is your destroyer, and... could it be, your mind too? Do you never wonder what...

Psyches... us, old terrible lizards, might have had? Oh, I assume you just reckon we had instincts, because no one, apart from the oh-so-haughty species of apes...

Who destroy their own kind... just for fun, and because society cannot be bothered, or something... oh, yes, they are the ones who always assume that no one else could...

Have anything resembling any semblance of consciousness. The ones who operate solely on the basis of nepotism, but not when those same units desire to destroy, for fun...

Oh, yes, we, along with the millions of other species, around... are totally the ones who lack any sort of nuance, yes... and not the ones who set up whole...

Sociological systems just to, besides destroying their own weakest, convince the populace to destroy themselves, collectively. Oh, and we have no idea about sarcasm...

You see, when I see an abyss... I complain to the void, because why not... I am extinct now, after all, not much else can happen... voids, at times, do reply, though...

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Polygonal Dragon Black:

I assume, you... might have noticed, by now... some of us are... shall we say, not fully formed... not in your natural sense, though... we are not missing anything...

Difference, is all... some might think we are not evolved, as such, but that is due to a technological necessity, you see... also... was it not yours, too? Is it not...

Strangely... ironic? As in, some might think we are not as 'advanced', as such, solely due to time... so was your predicament, was it not? Was thy... largesse, say, by...

Society. Was it not due to time? The... proportioner of all, was it not? We are stuck forever, seemingly deformed, out of technological limits; you, on the other hand...

I mean, at least it is not, similarly, external? Perhaps, though, it might be; in implications, ramifications, every single one society's perk... alternative was...

A bit costly, was it not? I mean, if we could not have 'advanced' graphics, why should your life be spared...? Oh, I do not intend to think psychopathically, but...

At least our limits are aesthetic, not functional... we are, merely, further away from reality, shall we say. You, on the other hand... lost in a labyrinth, amid reality.

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AlienRock:

Come here, do I... from another time and place, but nothing you would know of, why... what does it matter to you why I am here, anyway? Why are you? Curiosity? Ennui...?

Perhaps, just a sense that anywhere else you would just... not belong? You do not, exactly, belong here either, though, do you? Do you not reside, usually, in your mind?

Oh, this is a sort of pause for you, is it? A break from an everlasting neurosis imposed earlier on, is it? In a way, though, is it not, possibly, feeding, in a sense...

Instead of the aforementioned, I guess, a form of... psychosis, perhaps? In the sense of... voices, detached and all, even if metaphorical... sure, not literally, but...

I do not know... I mean, the planet I come from... we try our best not to make anyone end up neurotic, as opposed to this world, where it seems almost inevitable...

Endogenous psychosis is not, quite, as medicalized, either; we try to understand its narrative, conceptual roots, and since rarely is anyone neurotic, less psychosis too.

I mean... I did not come here to proclaim your world is worse, technically... I suppose, if you, collectively, reckon that the continual destruction of lives is fine...

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HumanRemains:

I... still alive, how...? I was going, there... my life, nigh perfect, it was... from birth, it was... nary a health, or familial issue, for that matter... nigh perfect.

Now... what... is this? A split second, an eternity that... lasts, still... is on-going... an infinite hell... why? Is this... some sort of... type of karma? Makes...

No sense... if I died... why do I seem alive? Not quite, but conscious... sentient, apparently... all this, though, this pain... I have never felt, so much... why am I...

Not within the arms of... sweet oblivion? Pray tell... is this how all of perfect always ends up? As if, a mirror image, a dream turned into a nightmare... life, death...

I thought death was final, oblivion, though... or is this some sort of message I need to understand? Perhaps, it might be merely just my individual situation... some...

Strange apparition, a physical anomaly, perhaps... or, indeed, just the yin to my yang of nigh perfect circumstances... after all, one could not just never suffer, no...?

All that beauty I witnessed in life, unencumbered by anyone else's selfish desires impinging upon my consciousness... nature just needs to have a say, I suppose... chaos.

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Crash:

So much death and destruction, and for what...? We were just going on some... mundanity... which, then, randomly turned into... eternal darkness, for many... we are...

Barely holding onto life, now... physically... why must this happen? Is this, perchance, retribution by the elements of chaos...? I suppose, we might have less likely...

Had some catastrophe... if we went by boat, like centuries prior. Drowning, still a possibility... an oceanic abyss that awaits eagerly, like a Kraken there to devour...

Like a watery Saturn, gobble up its own offspring, without a care from nature, collectively... after all... if the rest of nature is just fine... why should it care...

We might be nearing our deaths, some hanging by their very fingernails, but I suppose... if we cannot change nature, what can we do...? At least... I can accept that...

At least, it is random chaos, a fundamental force of nature, and not some pre-conceived system built up, insidiously, artificially, just to annihilate, suffocate, kill...

Still, now that I think of it... everything is random, is it not? Chance of birth, death, in between... circumstances... inversely, then, how can anyone accept anything?

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Gargoyle:

I have come to... pick apart, bone by bone, those who expired, along with those hanging by a thread, who may not see me, and yet... well, they are at the end of the rope.

At the end of their lives... what, you reckon anyone cares about them now, when they barely cared about them while fully alive? Oh, wait, what... are you saying that...

That is, exactly, what so-called humans do? That they save lives, or give birth, just to cause them more suffering? Altruism a mere facade? I should have suspected...

Then again... hell, even I am not that ruthless... I am an otherwordly vulture who feasts on those who are about to shuffle off... not the weakest, though, I have some...

Morals? Are you saying that the same creatures who have none, yet invented a word for it? Well, I suppose, there could be fictional definitions, but they never quite...

Admit it, do they? Oh, no, they pretty much gaslight by inventing the bizarre adjective 'humane', when all they do is destroy others, just because they can...

I never even take life, you see, despite my looks... I merely await until the clock of doom marches forth... often, though, I desire to devour those horrid psychopaths...

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GhostWithScythe:

Here, I am, to... yes, I believe you know why... I am but a force of nature, nigh an automaton, the endpoint of the clockwork of fate... I am, sadly, though, still...

Burdened with a consciousness... I do not, quite, know why... it is, as if, the universe desires to torture me, with every death I cannot prevent, every torture victim...

Despite wearing the same hue, blood... hue of pain and destruction, is what I detest... not fear, to be clear; I have none of that myself, of course... no, I detest it...

I do because mortals use it... as if some threshold, a horrid barometer of how much they, equally vulnerable and yet, somehow, temporarily advantaged... can inflict...

Life is a perversity of existence, you see... and this is why. There are levels of such insanity among other fauna, to be clear, but nothing as much as these humans...

Have managed... whole systems, societies, nominally with institutions of 'justice'... in reality, it would be like saying that vomit is as delectable as some banquet...

I am lost, myself... I encounter, not just imagine, so much psychopathy, so much vile bile with permanent repercussions; if I could I would retire, but I am a function...

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MountainDragon:

Fate... is me... or, at least, I am a symbol of such a concept... most would think it some poetic abstract, at best, nothing actual... and that is, sort of, correct...

Not just, though, is it? I suppose, there are... choices made that affect one's fate. These decided to go on a metal tube in the sky; rare to crash, yet they did.

Births also have rare, but tragic outcomes, yet that is where free will is even less relevant... where it is, mostly, though... where it seems most despicable, due to...

A combination of free will, societal structures, and a mere lack of time... is when 'fate' deals the worst cards to, due to the above, the most vulnerable... certainly...

Different, from this... I suppose, there might have been the vulnerable inside, those who did not, quite, make the decision that ended up here... ultimately, though...

All things being equal, if their prior lives were mostly fine, fair, joyful... it is, still, an unfortunate, chaotic disaster, borne out of randomness; not so, others...

I, usually... sit atop this world, contemplating various sordid existences; I realize much is unfair, but the only thing that would reverse that is if all of life ceased.

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Monster D:

I am what is left of life... what never was, and yet still is... somehow... is it not sweet? This torrid turbulence of harrowing horridness... not merely individually...

This sordid world, though... randomly giving birth, barely a second thought, some even encourage for some strange reason; besides nature, suppose, which has it ingrained.

Why do you reckon the replication of lives otherwise resembles that of germs? One must be fooled to think there is, really, that much difference, besides size...

All of life is the same... same error in existence, and you know that which you seem to think is exclusive to one species or another? It goes earlier than that, to...

Viral particles, which do a certain thing to the cells they infect... sure enough, though, they do not build whole 'civilizations' with the purpose of...

Institutionalizing violence... something to that, especially when it is under the guise of 'rationality'... or 'rationalization', I suppose... who knows, though?

You see, when one tries to justify... whatever... using... whatever... well, then... whatever might happen, correct? Must function on those who cannot follow basic logic.

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Monster E:

Ugh... I was... just another day, doing whatever it was I did, quite mundane... suddenly, then, fire broke out, trapped I was... was I, though? Did, perhaps, think I was?

I am not entirely sure it was a physical trap, you see... not quite ethereal, either, but... I was, though... I could have tried leaving, escaping the clutches of my...

Psychological depletions... I could have done... what? The fire still consumed me... and, apparently, it was fine, just because others were not the ones engulfed in...

Such a fiery, seemingly everlasting inferno... and, somehow... I survived? This? How is this...? How even am I able to...? What a bizarre world this is... oh, I was...

Also... expected to... actually live among those who... well, if it can be called living, this... were utterly indifferent? Oh, and, presumably pretend that flames did...

Not eat me inside out? I mean, I know this is a world of many pretences, but some 'jump the shark', shall we say, if fire and sharks can be mixed... just unbelievable...

Well, I suppose... one can try to 'manage', perhaps... what is this, though, a filing cabinet? Some bureaucratic process? Some verbs seem so inappropriate to some things.

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EZ:

Does... my real self seem frightening to you? Do I seem almost unbearable...? Grotesque? Untenable? Incredulously hideous? Just made to be further crushed as per fiction?

Well, guess what... you should have thought about that before you decided to ignore the causes... is it not, almost, unbelievable how some seem to think that effects...

Do not follow causes? What kind of strange, backwards-looking thinking is that? If you did not want my current fury, responses to injustices, then guess what...

Although... I am not entirely sure who I am addressing, here... I suppose, I have more of a type of personality in mind, but specifically? The irony is, I somehow live...

While death has snatched them away... of course, there are many others like them, out there... many who devour the living, some who do until there is nothing but bones...

Yet more irony, then, that they think I do the same, just because of an effect, remember... curious, this world, hypocrisy its crux... vile more than any vice, verily...

I suppose, I could... just merely rot away... I already am, see? Is this not you wanted to cause? If you wanted anything else, maybe... well, you know cause and effect...

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Demon Faun Red:

Came did I, to collect what I always end up with... a sort of undertaker, am I, but much... much deeper than the superficial soil, do I go... within the bowels of hell...

I murmur... where those who are tortured on this Earth lie, transported, as if by magic... such is the power of the psyche... visit do they, a subterranean netherworld...

Where they are forced, due to... either natural disasters such as this, or certain sociological necessities, you see... I am the creature that acts as a caretaker for...

All such debris, you see... as it is, now, not only is this plane such, but those formerly living, too... part of existence that churns them out, now... and my debris...

I am... not, exactly, who they say I am... fear me they do, but only because... sometimes, not always... see me they can, just before dying... and it is carried onto...

Other worlds, you see... metaphysically speaking... I do not understand the entire universe, but I know the clockwork I seem to inhabit... I do not relish, or despise it.

I am, merely, there to clean up, per se... just as death itself comes to cut the cord between dimensions, I am there with some kind of ethereal broom, washing all lives.

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Asura:

If... someone... is seeking the progenitor of all that is malevolent... I suppose, free will exists in some sense, with certain conditions... oh, that, well... physics...

I am part of that... a symbol of all that desires to harm... I make those lives desire as such... so to clarify, I do not initiate, birth those molecules... I am more...

As if... kindling... what is the main difference between myself, and the other... ethereal symbols, or archetypes, shall we say... is that I enjoy stoking the fire...

Why would I not? I, similarly to psychopaths, have no mirror neurons... ethereal beings do not have such, generally... I am, also, much more conscious, though...

When I instigate a... relation, say, to inflict violence, like there is no tomorrow... I make them feel the destruction their hearts bring forth... all the future that...

Ceases to exist, due to such violence, I relish in it... just as they do. Being ethereal means there is no physical contact, but I channel myself through physical beings.

One might think it harsh to do what I do, but I merely fulfil what they already desire... a few near this crash site have had such lives, both victims, and destroyers...

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Creature B:

We are, yes, scavengers, as you might have surmised, the... ethereal kind... we do not, usually, get noticed by the living, unless certain circumstances arise...

Myself? I store all the lifestream remnants into myself... recycled, they are, and... yes, they are given to the next life that happens to form, in some neverending...

Cycle of madness, one might say... some, although I am more of a function, might delight in this continuation... only one reason why life, at its abstract, continues on.

It is because... some want it to, to continue the suffering... not even pointing towards the already living here, even with their instinct to procreate, I am referring...

To those who continue to recycle such life, regardless of instincts... one sees that if a planet is left... unnoticed... various objects from outer space would crush all.

All of its life... so, there has been some manipulation, from those ethereal beings who desire pain and suffering, to perpetuate life on this one planet...

I do not, personally, feel strongly one way or another about this issue... sometimes, though, I wish that this function was not needed, anymore... I get tired, still...

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DragonStatue:

In there, it lay... light of the day... garish, bright, yet the doom of the night... it is in there, where... a norm adorns wretched physicality... where sickness...

Envelops inevitable meekness, and collectives acquiesce invectives. There the nightmare begins, where warfare rages, but unofficially. Oh, and everything else? The...

Superstring of sociology? That crux that sickens, debilitates, and yet... expects all to compete. That theology of psychopathy... mere bad luck, some say, roll of dice...

To be so... awed, struck, annihilated, grimly. The night a friend, but only out of spite for light's violence. In there, the netherworld resides... anxiety furled, there.

I, but a dragon, of a psyche agone. Gone, the day of night, an almighty thunder upon a glasshouse. We await, there in case, to tear asunder... alas, a mere louse you are.

Neither lizards, nor monstrous, us... but, as you know, the blizzards of fate are impossible, and so it is; annihilated, but still there; desecrated, but pillars stand.

Why, after all, does life need breath, if not to hasten... in some sense, that which was attempted hence, that whose will is more free than its counterpart, death...

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MayanStatue:

I... from a long time ago, but what difference might that have, besides a... sociological clime, perhaps? You see, lives throughout the ages... psychopathy thrives...

Nothing new, at all... for through minds, collectively, are actions not merely committed, but frenzied... a life grinds, but to them... why should they care? An apt fare.

So would they claim, at least, to the... gods, back then. Moloch on one end, a knife's odds on the other... not only psychopathic, but neurotic, deeply... lovingly...

Religious it was, at that time... lately, in such abodes, and not at all litigious. One's nightmare, their idyll, after which a norm, a tidal form of catecholamines...

Hey, though, if society keeps functioning... why not? Their propriety, outside... and, in my time, perhaps rain, to... cleanse the rotting brain, that now remained...

Frighten you, I do not mean to... why, your day might yet lighten, if you only ignore all the horrors in the shadows, merely the collectives' mirrors, pain for no reason.

Is it, though, more neurosis... impairment... or, rather, psychopathy? Such a prognosis, varies... what, though, ensures reality's ensnarement? Finding out id's motive.

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Kobold:

I... am but a sort of retainer for one of these ethereal archetypes, merely a brainless hanger-on to get the benefit of... wait, was I too honest? I go far, at times...

You see, I have limited access to the physical world, so they come to me for that... and while, technically, I am not visible, I tell them I am... part of my shtick...

It is, still, not totally true... you see, while I am, personally, invisible to the physical world... my tricks are not. So, I play with living beings, but...

Play they do not often, do they? Sometimes, I notice... more senseless violence than even demonspawn from hell itself can inflict... I keep wondering, why...

When one can be jovial and merely play tricks... could it be, perchance, demons in physical form? Even most I met in the ethereal realm do not desire to cause such pain.

It often makes me unable to enjoy tricking others, anymore... so frustrating I cannot do much, either... often, then, I merely leave, nary a trick in sight, just sadists.

In other sorts of houses, though, the happier kind, the type not even wealth can purchase... I can get into a certain rhythm for tricks... a poltergeist, they think...

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Elephant:

An amalgam of past and present strains, am I... once did I clash with the terrible lizards, but then somehow shrunk in size... not sure how... is evolution not strange?

Oh, I suppose one could consider that other thing that some prefer as the explanation, that somehow... specific species descended out of nowhere to inhabit a part of...

The world, randomly or so... would that also not have so many other implications, though? I suppose one might think that that initial intelligence only affects initially.

As if a cue and some spheres, but... epigenetics? Free will? The desire to hurt just because nothing deters? Oh, some might think the latter is done by that initial push.

That entirely relies on an imagination, though, and if sociologically there is nothing, then... I believe 'hell' is more real than its counterpart, at any rate... see...

We all are, actually, here to kind of transport all these victims of disasters... from a nightmare, to... possibly nothingness. Is nothing not preferable? Would you want?

All I say is... if there was a hypothetical 'intelligence', reason for life, then it is one brutal, sadistic psychopath... no, though, random chaos is all... nothingness.

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Base Demon:

Oh... can I eat your insides, perhap? Can I? Come on... barely do you contain anything else... certainly, all external seems to have vanished, so why can I not?

Can you not grant me such a desire? You see, I cannot, quite, indulge without asking first... I am, kind of, someone's relative, you see... not that that usually means...

Anything whatsoever... except... I still hunger for... physical flesh, I so desire... only broken ones, though... just seems to be my nutritional requirement, and all...

Kind of easier to get, considering their state of mind... also fairer, no? In comparison to... well, millennia ago, and their own pasts... at least I ask for consent, no?

It is inevitable, but still... I am not some total psychopath like some humans... and, sure, only a small minority of them are cannibals, but the fact so many are...

Carnivores, and there happen to be so many psychopaths, all so naturally? Could be a coincidence, but... even my relative waited until they threw them in...

One should not merely believe all one hears about demons, you know; we might look differently, live distinctly, but we certainly respect free will, and choice, unlike...

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Monster F:

You know... if I had any access to the physical realm, and I am entirely ethereal, just to be clear... if I did, though, and... well, I suppose, if I could also do...

As much as in the ethereal realm... well, certainly would not, quite, function if I was another mere mortal... if I was not, though... hypothetically, and all...

I would make sure disasters as such this are much more unlikely to happen... we kind of know more about the physics of the world, and could use that to ascertain...

Less accidents... also, one or two humans? Recipe for disaster, although I suppose not much else they can do, as of now... oh, also, if I had said access I would try...

To... well, lessen social ailments, which is currently, one must admit, entirely preventable... not quite what is often desired by some, but I wonder what they would...

Say, if I showed them, using my capability to prognosticate, their own inevitably sordid future... whether they would believe me, another matter... still, worth a try...

When certain affairs point towards the wrong direction, you see, it may be so that all end up suffering, in the end; why, I wonder, are certain species so dysfunctional.

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Alien C:

I... lay in the shadows, physically unseen, until... snap, goes the psychopath. Not that I can do much about free will... although, I believe there might be someone or...

Something... which could. Of course, it could also be an illusion that can only befall such foolish mortals... ourselves, most of us know our limits, functions at times.

Perhaps, unlimited potential too, in certain circumstances, as with the one over there... although, even they could not, quite, override free will. Then, again...

I do not suppose that, even if they could, they would use that to stop the... heartless ones... oh, how apt... of course... either way... what I do... might interest you.

I lie in wait... lie myself into existence, in the physical world, like their very malevolence given shelter by the larger society... I could not, quite, manipulate...

Physics, but... I can re-arrange certain... coincidences... strings of fate... which ended up in many a psychopath... as dead as their victims...

Not quite vengeance, actually... I mean, if an avalanche overwhelms them, does the... snow hate them? I, merely... coincide them... of course, weakest also have bad luck.

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Blood:

Thirst do I, for the blood of the poor fools... especially the ones who are otherwise... quite unscarred from the vicissitudes of life... I encounter many, otherwise...

Deaths by suicide, usually after some horrid lives; I do not reject their blood, to be clear, but it is not as fresh; some have even bled so much it is hard to fathom...

Whether it belongs inside their bodies, or outside... it is why, personally, I would rather societies not destroy their weakest, so much... which, I suppose, must seem...

Odd... coming from me, a demonic bloodquencher, but then, as the many species throughout the universe... and they remain hidden, through their advanced technology...

For rational reasons... can attest... no other sordid collective is so attuned with psychopathy as humans... although they, of course, pretend that one would need to...

Appear monstrous, perhaps, to act as such. Miraculously forgetting, almost by magic, the many plain-looking serial killers... who were found. Aside from the mere violent.

Honestly, at times I feel almost like a pupil of their insanity. Oh, wait, not inherent insanity... no, for psychopathy is a choice... myself, I wait until natural death.

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Alien violet:

I... am here to... collect... a certain synaptic transmission, you see... a certain... present to both joy and damnation, it is most of what life is, and beyond psyches.

I... am the storage of dopamine, you see, that which motivates, that which both curses, and enlivens... I recycle it, and... well, life, you see... has a certain way...

I do not question from whence, dopamine is, as if, the psyche's blood... will, motivation... all variances. Some use it to learn an instrument, others use it to hurt...

I do oft wonder about the perversity of such a system... not when the system is isolated, I suppose, where the only one affected is themselves... neurotransmission...

In such a case... is a self-reinforcing mechanism. Nothing negative comes from learning instruments, except, perhaps, a waste of time... when dopamine is used to...

Also gotten from... others being hurt, though, one can only conclude evolution must be psychopathic... still, only my observations, as an ethereal container of sorts...

Sometimes I wonder why all systems could not just be isolated, as a kind of mechanism against psychopathy, but then... procreation would need such inter-dependence...

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Daimetir:

Indifference, is all I am... I do not care an iota about anything, or anyone... as long as my needs are met, why not, no? Why should I care? Hell, I...

Certainly do not expect anyone to care about me, if I am in need... I would probably complain about it, at that point, and see if anyone would care... still...

Does not mean I would get anything out of caring for anyone else, even if they happen to care about me at my hour of need... so, if the latter does not depend on...

The former... why should I? I... relish being every laugh in the face of despair... for, truly, who cares? I read about mirror neurons, and oxytocin... would I, though...

Not merely be burdened, even if I had such? I should say, it is better this way... no worries, a more positive life for me, and who cares about others. At times...

Possibly... even those I am supposed to... care more for, for some reason, genetically, I do not care for... after all, I am but a unit, I am the only true real self...

Selfish? That is not an insult, that is kind of, like, calling a cloud a cloud, among many other clouds, in a heavenly system made for clouds... such is this world...

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Werewolf C:

Lend me your ears, for it is what I am here for... it is the reason why I am so, a hybrid... some might say... a monstrous one... what is such a definition, though?

At times, is it not merely projection? Why, what other ideal would one have, to defend oneself from certain actions, except to call the other as such? Many specificities.

The abstract, though... I am conversing, so that cannot fit under such a definition, correct? I might be here, near this disaster, but I did not cause it, so still...

I transform into such a creature... now, tell me, if I wanted to hurt others... why would I do that? Why would I not, merely, remain human, conduct social affairs...

Externally... with propriety, and all... whatever societies want, these days, a modicum of acceptability, regardless of the many lives it destroys, and... well... so...

You tell me, under such a definition... who would be worse? More effective, I suppose, at doing what monstrous creatures are supposed to do... poisons, metaphorically...

Poisons could always be more efficient than swords, say, could they not? Poisons built upon poisonous, systemic structures, then... no individual werewolf can compete...

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BigOgre:

Destroy all, is what I do... it is why I am of such a size... what else would such do except destroy, no? Your dreams, your past, your future... I will annihilate them...

Why else do you reckon certain creatures are, naturally, bigger than others, those that society traps with them, other than to destroy them? Is it not 'funny' that...

Relativity means nothing; might not get it from one end, that certain peers use as another excuse, but that means nothing if there is an advantage of decades; it is...

Verily, a perfect combination of sordid sorrows, is it not? An amalgam of nature's evolutionary psychopathy, and an inevitable, collective, sociological insanity that...

Imprisons, as if, a Venus flytrap... of course, that plant evolved naturally, and so did the insects, and no larger social structure is preventing them from even doing...

The little they can do.... so does the sickness rises, and all you can do... well, nature will dispose of me, eventually... in a very long while, until then... and then.

Ah, hear it, feel the night's airy softness... what you could never feel again, even long after I am dust, verily... and if one can laugh, while dust, if societies can...

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PlagueDoctor:

Doth thou... recognize me? For I am always there, in the minute of need, in all centuries... not just during natural diseases, to clarify... socially, you see...

It functions quite similarly... a certain sickness arises, at its basic, neurochemical level... merely a base need for dopamergic reuptake... I am, kind of, medical...

I suppose... even with the weird attire, and all... just observed a bit, over the centuries, is all... and this is where the sickness lies... over such long periods...

They persist, but beyond the individual... what happens inside of such units is enabled by so much more than one can fathom... I, merely the observer, having never had...

Any part whatsoever, in either natural pandemics, say, or sociological ailments, which annihilate and, yet, pretend they do not... my presence is vast only so I could...

Have a bird's eye view of it all - not sure why, to be honest; I suppose, it is the role of a scientist to observe, but at times I seem to feel the nausea they do not...

Lives are always being chipped away, and that is the fundamental affliction... rot, fester, then, is all that remains, just as the millions did after the Black Death...

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Demon D:

Infernal... are words not something? Both to evoke, and yet... at the root of malady, of infection... not quite the natural kind, but still... same mechanism, and all...

Certain words, certain perversity... a profoundly deep-seated wretchedness... one that could make any dislike words forevermore, surely... certain words that have been...

So corrupted, that... even their mention in unrelated contexts; homonyms, say, or perhaps, ones that have some 'relation', but not quite there... either way, even...

Demons, such as I, would rather scavenge the dead, than indulge in this raw corruption of meaning... I suppose, one can still hardly not use words at all...

Even if the profundity of the corruption is so vast... one, though, can still merely pretend they do not exist at all, even if they touch, and in turn, corrupt certain...

Affairs, shall we say, that should have nothing to do with society's psychopathy, but then, it is what the real 'demons' are proficient at, no...? A sordid malaise...

Well... yes, even a creature such as myself can be interested in such trivia... I think, by now, you must have realized how much outward appearance has no bearing on ego.

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Macrorganism:

The potential of all that is lost, I contain... potency, you see, is a metaphysicality, per se, and needs to go somewhere, at any one point... I am, thus, here to store.

All that can be stored, until it goes elsewhere... kind of a logistical affair, although the more physical aspects are, it appears, melancholic and borne out of...

A certain mental configuration, that affects personality... not here to judge, necessarily, am I... not even sure why I happen to be conscious, honestly... I guess...

Though... if some want to destroy others, just as others go to some lengths and indulge in corruption, just to help others... overall, what can one do except let...

Societies fail under the weight of their own psychopathies? Even if potential is wasted... still, at least it goes to someone else, no? It does seem to function...

Exponentially, you see; once person A wastes person A2's potential, person B2 gets not only their own inherent potency, but the other too, even if person B does nothing.

Kind of how physics functions, regardless of whatever social neurosis is in existence. Is fate not amusing? Not even a roll of dice, it is even more abstract...

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Statue E:

Here, I am, the sword of sadistic psychopathy, inflicted by the horde of collectives, but also a ballistic individuality. For what else is symbolic of life but banality?

So much is variable, so much depends... until time, eventually, descends, into either the prime of life, or a merely morose meandering whistling the grime of solitude...

A barbarian, some say, but did they not conquer empires? Some do not merely seek to invent, some would prefer to affix metaphorical cement, and destroy... a doom oracle.

The sword hast nigh always been the mast of societies, and the annihilation of specific lives? Mere pieties... a mass cares not for the cessation of egos, it deprives...

Why, verily, doth thou believe the pen is mightier? Go forth, wearily, again, or let the dearth of life consume this cursed Earth... as it will always be there, thirst.

Unquenchable, for could have been, as existence will always be untenable... instinctually, resistance; nothingness, the answer, unambiguously, due to sociological cancer.

Persist, why do you, to gaze upon the clouds, when to exist is to choke on the shrouds of vile bile until they, inevitably, croak? As you exhale breath, let in death...

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Creature C:

I am but a remnant, of a long-forgotten past... not by the conscious mind, though, for why would that be so if one wills it not? Is it not such a strange system of...

Contraptions, say, that no matter how much one tries to understand, even oneself, there is a certain inevitable inability... a certain impossibility, as if millennia...

Of evolution naturally ensconces any possibility of comprehension, as if a labyrinthine structure that is, to varying degrees, interminable... what is it, though...

Why do certain points, specific existential conundrums, puzzle it so? I suppose, one did admit that perfection is nigh unlikely, but a paradigm shift? A dam bursting...

Forth, and yet back to the past, as if chronology is some donut? How strange, existence is, when basic understanding elides it, when the ocean that was once held...

Washes away any and all preconceived notions of what, and who has a comprehensible mind, and consciousness might be an issue... neurochemically, though...

A merely indistinguishable, incomprehensible structure am I, myself, but still that does not imply that... I do not exist... in some way... even if limited, narrowed...

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Hound:

A mere follower, am I, regardless of my personal ferocity; I do not, quite, struggle against the current tide, for that requires more effort, more wasted energy... why...

So, then, even if in the depths of my... conscience, is it? As if, somehow, it goes along for the ride of knowledge acquisition... anyway, even if, as I say... what is...

The point of... writhing on one's own accord, if you know what I mean? I suppose, it must be how many others think this through, too... and it does seem to be the...

Majority, at times, does it not? Why else would there be so many... lives? Why else would societies be so, in the first place? Curious how democracies evolved, now and...

Merely integrated these prior practices, as if, somehow, they are entirely democratic, in spirit, or otherwise... just a pretence, these democracies are too, often...

An illusion, merely there, as if to say, "well, we got our mandate, therefore... whatever... is justified"? Oh, even if certain demographics cannot even vote, sure...

Ah, I may be so, but I still have some opinions, I guess... even with my appearance, and all, which some might reckon is barely conducive to any discourse, at all...

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Statue B:

The petrified mass of all indifference, hatred, sadistic psychopathy, am I... overseeing dimensions, what I do... not quite a participant, and yet... ergo sum. I am...

All within these two planes of existence... origin, birth; finality, death... along with, well; random chance, cruel fate, destruction for a sip of dopamine, I am all...

Where would I be without life, though? I might still exist, perhaps, even with some form of consciousness, psyche... lives, though, are they not interesting? They kill...

Annihilate each other... just for temporary joy. How much more sordid could it get? We, in the infernal realms, do not interfere, as I think others have mentioned...

Observe is what we merely do... what daemons have always done, merely harbingers... not the actual will that plunges the sword, that sucks the life out of all... no...

That is merely you, mortals, who indulge in such petty affairs, just because, with the knowledge that you can all die at any moment... well, why not kill first, verily...

I gaze upon these dimensions of existence, and merely ponder; when? When will it all come asunder, dissolve into the atomic nothingness that it had been for an eternity?

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FemaleAndroid:

Pretend, do I, to defend from the... ravages of time... pretence is all, but that would never be admitted, of course, for why otherwise would I pretend? Years-long play.

Pretend, do I, just as societies fake such care; oh, the bureaucracies, just for that next paycheck, verily... pretend, do I, to even do that which one purports to do...

Love? Is it not amusing you were fooled for so many years? Admittedly, the latter ones are not equivalent to the earlier times, cognitively speaking, but then, who can...

Indeed, who can ever talk about cognition? Not when one barely has enough for basics, although that can never be admitted either, of course... anyway; trick is to...

Pretend, and yet secretly justify it through various rationalizations, but not overly... in that sense I am clever, no? The ultimate, sociopathic, failure of the last...

Guard rail, and when it crumbles? Societies care not, certainly, not unless they can kill in kind, anyway; too bad, so sad, etc... is life not pretty? Just as I am...

Oh, can we not speak about it now, though? Honestly, I am either trying as hard as I can to resolve something through ignorance, or I am bored, or such... ugh, also...

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Alien D:

Who... are you? You seem somewhat familiar; met before, have we? In another dimension, perhaps? In another reality, where sorrows are plentiful, have we? Where horror is.

I come in various guises, you see... which, I suppose, is why you keep wondering, recalling, speculating, imagining, torturing yourself over what could have never been...

Hm, where did that come from, I wonder? I am not even sure what hypotheticals I might have had in mind, there... wait, minds... I think... was that not... one of those...

I destroyed, once, a mind, I reckon... sketchy details, so long ago, but the journey that once began in a medley of fantasies... ended in... existential angst? Trivial...

Just for... a few drops of a neurotransmitter, long ago evaporated now... I do not seem to, quite, feel the passion I must have felt back then, you see, being in this...

State, or whatever I am... so, I do not, quite, know the force that drove me to destroy a mind for merely temporary relief, but then, I wonder, is that merely evolution?

I do not, quite, know... for certain, at least... if I would do the same, were I the same life, again... ruminating is all I can do now... eternally, it often seems...

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WereWolf D:

Ah, I smell... memories, is it? Are they not grand? All sorts, like some sort of weird buffet of nonsense that mostly offers rotting food, but occasionally there are...

A few hues that attract one's eyes... for, you see, indeed in seeing is how our ferocity is pursued, but that is not all... we pick up leftover memories, munch on them...

Taste their usual bitterness... personally, I find bitter more prevalent, but all is subjective... say, how is the madness coming along? Perhaps, it might yet be...

Another memory, in the future... wrapped inside future madness, layered with more memories of... uh, you get the gist... not even sure why I go on about this, but...

I suppose, it is slightly better than facing the... epochal destruction, I suppose... aesthetic it is not, I give you that... mirrors are mirrors, though, no? Who else...

I suppose, would rather see something else other than reality? Oh, society, was it? How nice of them, just after enabling, too? Cognitive dissonance, or...? Hypocrisy...

Well, under 'normal' circumstances I would just scurry along the rooftops here, even if there are some of my kind within, but, often, who cares about social poison...?

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Insect:

From up here, do I gaze... upon this dreary world; revolting, and yet, why? Why did life ever come into existence? I loathe it so, but the fact it keeps going on...

On, and on, and on... why? Individual lives not so much... oft do they disappear in the mist of time, or due to some disaster, or tragedy... rarely does anyone care...

Collectively, though, why? Especially when they all seem to be located on a single planet... why can nothing destroy it? Just... one fell swoop... all existence would...

Be, then, is clockwork, mere physics... not so much biology, which is such a vile outgrowth of physicality... I wonder if... Abraxas could... although, again...

I do not, quite, get how it went on for so long... millions of years, really? No random meteor of sufficient size to annihilate all? Out of the entirety of the universe?324Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiS0KbpheQe
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Statistically, it seems so unlikely... wonder if there has been anything else at play... as if chess in the midst of madness... why? What point? All must dissipate...

One is ever so tired, with this repeated reincarnation sort of thing... not even sure what is happening, but it is vile, it is putrid... it is what affects life, itself.

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Undead:

Do you... know a more innocuous version of myself, I wonder? The one you nearly encountered earlier on, but ended up only doing so twice the time later, or so...

Dark comedy would have been lost on you, anyway... I mean, how many skeletons do you know that joke around? I certainly do not... I am merely here to sniff around for...

Desperation... a lot of it around, is there not? Globally, and within memories; the objective and subjective, see... personally, I do not know why so many persist for...

So long... I mean, why? Just for a few hours of positivity, really? Did not think there was such blind optimism. Is it, perhaps, rather, the fear of the dark...?

I suppose. You fear nothingness, the possibility that you would never have a consciousness again, which, I suppose, is more likely than not, even if we seem to inhabit...

Some kind of limbo, and other realms where, almost animistically, even objects seem to be conscious... objectively, though, in the sordid, dreary world of physicality...

I am not saying much... one supposes, the tiny percentage of sensual stimulation from, say, the dark blue night sky, might be a reason to persist in misery, otherwise...

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Reaper:

Presume, I do, that you... can imagine what a literally stellar atmosphere this is, yes? How refreshing the air is? The fantastical imagery the moon instinctly creates?

The cool breeze... becoming your present nightmare. Not the breeze itself, to be clear, or any of the aforementioned, but you can barely feel them over the present, no?

Has the past sufficiently destroyed your present? Perhaps. I have not taken you yet, though, have I? If I wanted to, I would... create a coincidence, an unusually...

Unlucky incident, more so than typical, that proves fatal... is that not how they are all done? Like that misstep someone makes that ends up in their fall to an abyss...

You reckon you have free will, do you not? How interesting, considering you came face-to-face with determinism itself. I guess, if it had a face. It still enveloped you.

You could always... fully consciously decide to... or some, possibly unintentional, mistake... until then, how will you ever feel the wonder of the present once again...?

Oh, and unlike the other of my kind, there, I am kind of a... free agent, if you know what I mean... I roam about, seeking edge cases... pushing them over the edge...

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Mummy:

Oh, I suppose you did not expect me here, did you? In some kind of geometrically shaped building I am supposed to be confined to, am I? Not in this liminal state...

Not in this subconscious realm, where archetypes occur... speaking of which, why in the world am I ever called that of which I am called? Is it not some strange word?

Just a coincidence, mind, that merely also means wax... is it not annoying, quite, when homonyms are utilized, though? For the mind differentiates them not, at first...

Always that initial intake, where all possible negativities pour into you, as if a pirate drinking rum, for the linguistic, rational hemisphere... is not, quite...

The most agile... not that I have any brain, at all, to speak of, of course... I suppose, even while alive, I supposedly had none, either, according to the world of...

Shall we say, nepotistic corruption... now, I did come up here in an attempt to feel the night air, but sadly I seem to have lost all of my sensations...

Memories, though, eh? Somehow, even when one's brain rotted... memories remain... for some creatures even when they end up headless... it is how pervasive, insidious...

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Rhinoceros Beetle:

Oh, you there.... might you have encountered some of my... you know, never mind, if you know what I mean... still, we can discuss it, even if we do not, quite, know...

So, how about it? Reckon it is but a symbol? A harbinger? Perhaps... a chance to not feel lonely? I realize that is not, usually, how these things work, but...

Is it not 'sweet' how you react? I suppose, there is always worse, but one could do nothing at all, too... oh, and... I believe... I was, actually, cognizant of...

Certain other creatures of my type... for some reason, though, they preferred a more monochromatic world, somehow... makes little sense, does it not? Yet, they prefer...

A more... ah, not another word that subjectively references prior happenings... well, just proves that existence is not, quite, what that word implies, does it?

Existing is so much more complex... mostly, though, not in any interesting way, is it not? Existing is just... ennui, there for no reason, apart from pain...

I suppose, now you must reckon that I am somewhat of a rambling beetle, do you? Well, no matter, I would rather there be... something, than nothing. Although, reality...

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Perderos:

Give up, why do you not... even if the sun you see, it is only there to burn you up from the inside, to remind you of the many other prior times when one was scorched...

You might not see it now, but, of course, that does not mean it is not there, nor does the night sky, alternatively, imply, necessarily, that it is any less destructive.

It might seem like that... and while, similarly, honey might sweeten your sour deal, your rotting concoction... make your life any less of a disaster it will not, so...

Why not let yourself be devoured by the vicissitudes of time? Perhaps, myself? After all, is that not what everyone and everything does in this wretched existence?

Either, literally devour, or metaphorically. I suppose, if one is not even wholly utilized, as when digestion occurs, even if one is not wholly destroyed, is that not...

Technically, a waste? Oh, wait, I know what those creatures call it... a sport. Imagine. Life being decimated, just as a sport, hobby, whatever... ah, my spirit animals.

You see, in my spare time... I devour beings that accidentally cross dimensions... oh, it happens more often than you might think... when one does not fully kill oneself.

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Creature Shell:

Ah, I might seem fearsome, might I not? Yet, due to certain other creatures, in proximity... certain other creatures who, due to a certain programming, or sociology...

I happen to be near... which means that, no matter how vicious I may seem, no matter how above average I am, in comparison, relativity is all, in more words than one...

I mean, how could I ever compete with an inter-dimensional devourer...? I suppose, in other cases, someone who merely had the advantage of time, and societies... ah...

That... not quite something we have, here, actually... in this dimension of ours, here, in this otherworldly limbo where lost souls gather, we are independent...

Not that, I suppose, some could not try to exploit some technical difference in potential, like mortals do... we are, though, more fair than our faces make us seem...

After all, who is worse than someone who looks somewhat similar to you, species-wise, at least, merely telling you "we shall let you stick to your scheduled destruction".

Admit it, though, you... might not look like me, and yet your soul, your psyche, your cursed breath, is most similar, in spirit, to myself, verily, wretchedly, sordidly.

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Skull:

Come thither, ye who is made out of polygonal hallucinations of somnos... ye who is forever doomed to travail upon this world's entrails, come thither, understand could.

What otherworldly happening might occur, verily? One knows not. What about all else, though? Might they even exist? For if, say, they do not... would solipsism not...

Imply a net decrease of suffering? Would it not be a positive, then, even if, hypothetically, one is utterly alone? I mean, would that even make any difference, then...

If it is metaphysically so, does it? I suppose, bubbles that spurt on top of a puddle are inevitable? Why care, though? Afraid of what you will get an eternity of...?

At the... maximum possible amount... well, life and death are, kind of, binary... although, not quite... are they? So much of the latter is within the former...

Especially later on, when the destruction is complete, and some chapters have ended, there it remains, as if an everlasting curse, a rot within the core of vitality...

Lose hope, for there is none, and never was. The box? Always empty. For millennia, now. Just as with societies' emptiness, there is nought but dreary nightmares...

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Alien E:

Taste this... rot. It is all there is, now. One's very own sustenance, is all... was all, will be all... mould, decrepit rot, your mere life. You might see this...

At times, you might observe the lunar insanity... which always derived its source back to Thanatos, the wonder of obscurity and fear... nothingness, and yet...

Does one think there might be really nothing better, there, despite the darkness? Imagination, is all... on the other hand, here, one can see, horrors manifest...

The will to ruin, here... will to inflict pain, and then shuffle off; a deck of cards, with one fallen off, but who would notice? Who ever, verily? Smell the rot...

It is all... reality's rot, it is here, not imagined... why else would some, after wars, say, cannot bear anything anymore? The outer world is no different... nightmare.

It is all, the poison, the hate, the vile bile of reality's sated sadism. It is all, just as death is all, and so is madness... what, though, specifically? A reaction...

I, just... am not sure why many persist. I mean, I suppose, you did perceive this sky, once, this air... why do you, necessarily, need to, anymore? Barely, you can...

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The Monster baze:

Hurt, I must, others, for it is my sole purpose, to be curt to existence... why, tell me, one from the future, why the persistence? Do you not relish being, itself?

The suture of seeing... realizing, finally, reality, and its actually brutalizing crux... so random, life is, the flux of insanity... yet, the fact that... it is all...

For... merely... vanity... pact asunder, not that there was ever any... wonder an illusion, but you knew that, despite your current conclusion... night terrors, up...

Above, I was... no errors... at times, one survives, even if desperation has quite the archives, but then you wonder... would damnation not have been preferable?

A blunder, then; an oversight, the irony; alight, lives go, when will wills it... for evolution, you see, has given it a thrill, and if... society, a dissolution, then...

If, though, indeed, one's anxiety is held back by some dam, if virtuality is one's jam, then... lo and behold, banality's at bay... although not quite, per se...

One must see, the gloom within others, since the womb, and, drearily, until one's tomb, it is all; eerily, even after, one can faintly hear that schadenfreude's laughter.

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Gladiator:

Uh... I was in this arena, just now, and then... some kind of light, and I ended up here... now, prima facie this certainly does not seem like the place I come from...

It is... much hotter, there, even at night... and where I was, before, was actually in the day... I guess, it could always be on the other side of the world, but from...

The creatures around me... make me think this is not just any old part of the world. I do not suppose I could find Marcus Aurelius around here, anywhere... still...

I assume... virtue is still emphasized around these parts? What, you mean it was never really of import? Hypocrisy is the universal quality? How, also, could the...

Definition have changed... and how does one merely patiently endure? Is that what is recommended, around here, when one deals with oppression? At least, we regularly...

Toppled our emperors... why else should they remain, otherwise? Ah, never mind, I seem to be getting cold, but inside there are so many other fearsome-looking creatures.

Is it just my perception, or are they likely to devour me, say, if I even approach? I mean, that is what all living beings typically do, no? Unless they are not living...

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Demon E:

So... I understand there are certain, shall we say, universal precepts we are supposed to be guided by, and I, frankly, do not care about them, but... regardless if...

One does, or not, it seems to automatically function as such, like some psychopathic drive to hurt others that I, ironically, have, and yet cannot fulfil due to these...

Is it metaphysical? Not entirely sure, but Asura down there, who is ever so frustrated... having seemingly unlimited power to destroy, and yet unable to, due to...

Whatever these barriers are... well, they think these are natural, kind of like how the seas part geologies, but that still makes little sense to me, as I have wings...

I can easily traverse these lands... yet interact with very few objects, virtually none living, annoyingly... why is it one needs to be a living psychopath to inflict...

The kind of pain I want to inflict... I cannot even reach that strange creature over there, who I assume is not from around here, and living... why, though, when...

How does such a psyche manage to get within a life, anyway? Some kind of possession? Infiltration? Hostile takeover? I do not suppose they are merely the highest bidder.

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Base:

Ah... I cannot see, why? I did not dig up my eyes voluntarily, and yet it happened... why? Is it merely psychology, or an extant happening? I have no idea... although...

It is not, as if, I ever denied having eyes, and yet sometimes... it just dawns on me, I have none... a whole world of sensory data, never available to me... why, though?

What I also am not sure about is whether I had been like this from the very beginning, say, inherently, nature and all... or it happened, somehow... society deciding...

I must have no sight, for some reason... why, though? Just random chance? Something pre-planned? Chromosomes? I suppose the latter is entirely likely, and yet...

I keep feeling, occasionally, that I was not, quite, born so... I suppose, what is the difference, ultimately, whether one had the misfortune of it being either nature...

I suppose, or... I mean, if, in the end, it is the same effect, no? Does the one born to it get angry at nature? Are they not all deterministic? Inevitable? Existential?

Ah, I realize I might be wasting time, perhaps, in thinking too much about this, and, ultimately, wasting one's own life, but what else can one do, sometimes? Perhaps?

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Gryllunguis:

Flutter around, I do... seeking in low spirits, for the spirits to drink their souls as an afternoon soup, verily; tastes delicious, it does, if you ever try it...

Oh, wait, what? You do not have this delicacy, because it seems to you it might be too far? Otherwise, though, when it is other species it is fine, not too close or far?

Makes a lot of sense. I mean, by necessity I dine upon others, too, as I have never seen anyone like me, anyway... I especially like the earthy texture of those humans...

Those broken down by others of their species? Right, because, of course, one can be a bull in a china shop, just not a certain mythological Titan... nope, cannot do that.

Hey, though, it is not like everything is not often broken, no? Objects, devices, what is a few lives thrown in a pit of despair; also, their psyches smell better!

No, really... oh, you wonder how a psyche is accessed? How else? Bring them to the brink, and it reveals itself... which is why I descend upon them when that happens...

What, you only thought minds are there to sense external things? Oh, it can be very much sensed itself, too, which is why it can be broken, it being merely an object...

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Crawl:

Crawl, I do, within the brains of the living... seek out to know, I do, that which is not even known to them... while I cannot, exactly, do as much as my living...

Parasitic colleagues... still, I relay all to both dimensions... in a sense, then, it is, as if, in vivo knowledge gathering, without the host even noticing, let alone...

Harmed... we are not, exactly, human, as one can see, that adjective which, in all reality, should merely reflect malevolence... certain of their scientists even...

Destroy their own kind, just for some knowledge... and, mysteriously, others do not seem to like that, even if they do not, typically, much care at all if it does...

Not involve someone who looks slightly like them, as if appearance makes any difference... I mean, some of them destroy without even gathering any data, so it is not...

As if... we have plumbed the depths of depravity... not me, I go around, as small as can be, being dimensionally insignificant, bothering only our lack of knowledge...

I know... I do not, quite, seem... seemly, shall we say... still, these being separate dimensions, and all... no one ever notices me, which, I presume, is ideal for all.

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Laminoferox:

I pulsate with the energy of the fallen... all who give up, up to their very last moments, all the foolish hope they ever had, previously... I ingest it, as if...

Existential mana, it is, you see... certain dynamics, in this universe, propel specific actions, for clear reasons... not compel, for we are separate by an ethereal veil.

One felt, as it happens, when a psyche is at its wit's end, where all is dire, and oxytocin as rare as antimatter... astronomical, not psychopathic type. That...

Mental state, borne out of a desperate strait, is the portal to my entrance... convince them to give up, I try, enable them to imagine... reality... I try. That is all...

I do not even lie, lie so many of their own species do, I merely show them all the realistic darkness that destiny seems to have prescribed for them... enveloping them...

Some do give in to the inevitable, regardless of any potential failures... some, though, seem to want to witness more of that immeasurable misery, as if in disbelief...

The magnitude of it, at times... is quite a sight to behold... and the psychological tricks, not mine, mind, as usual... oft it is but the whole package of angst...

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Pardathrox:

The sickness itself, am I, made ethereal flesh, or, at least, its counterpart... a disease that spreads, but... as opposed to germs, which function a slight bit like...

Clockwork, say, or even, of course, their digital versions... apparent automation, albeit natural... well, I suppose there is a variety of sickness, some not even...

Considered as such, by other species, or so... as in certain poisons... so, I suppose, I might be one of those, although not quite inter-species, for this is a quite...

Subjective kind of thing, and I am merely the metaphysical symbol of its spread, its insanity, its indifference... irrelevance to the grand scheme of things; a banality.

To be clear, I am not just some triviality, that is not the implication of 'banality', no, I am merely unsurprising, my existence being the rot within life... and...

To clarify, once more; it is a rot that few seem to want to remove. It is not some fungi, either, as they can certainly surprise, occasionally, with their mystery...

I am merely that which rusts within life, and yet it is rust which gives some dopamine, somehow. Some witness my nightmare, and recoil not; others have life's nightmares.

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FireGolem:

Oh, all the disgusting affairs... it is all I seem to be, and feel, disgust... why is life so full of such, tell me? I can barely bear to look at such a revolting thing.

All lives... why are they revolting so? Even those occasional, positive feelings towards certain creatures... are merely subjective... and hypocritical, for why would...

Say, small furry creatures, elicit a certain response, but not other similarly-sized, unfurry ones, who, in some instances, are even within the same species?

Life, then, is not just disgusting, with the way so many affect others, but stupid, too... entirely illogical, although one can never pretend to find logic in 'cuteness'.

Even within such internal logic, though, there is none... just inconsistencies, randomness, and cruelty to those who happen to not elicit a specific neuronal response...

Why does one even bother with this at all, though? Why, if one themselves were logical, in some sense, or at least rational, it would merely behoove one to just lie down.

I suppose, one can get tired for a variety of reasons... an existential kind, though, goes so much deeper, as if to the very crux of life itself, which is ever so sordid.

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Computer:

"Thine origin, digital in nature, that leaves one to pine the pinnacle of distraction; could, though, nurture, to be clinical, and a searcher, a transaction, a finagle."

"Freeze this machine could, but then, so would thine life crease. An undine, from early in the morn, how to divert from that unconcentrated on thorn, as, at least..."

"Well, even Javert had a change of heart, a fiction that takes reality apart... a common depiction, but a strawman... fools, this machine drains one's life, but..."

"No, certainly not as much as society devours brains, since, what does one know, zombies come in all varieties, although the dough that enlivens, and enables one to..."

"Grow? A bit of a kintsugi, but no repair, truly, after the writ... hey, though, strange affair, for this computer to be so random, but its router is slightly skewed..."

"In tandem with neurosis, what else brewed? Perhaps, a gnosis of what could be? Nah, more like a collapse of the mind, and any indifferent externality? Soothly blind."

"Games, maybe, a constant chase after the frames? Not a trace of joy, in the future, at least, time starts to cloy. So, it ends with random nonsense, modernly a chime."

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Cyclops:

Eye am... every time a narrow scope is needed, whether intentionally or not... although the former is usually the case, even if not admitted to... one eye to miss all...

Every time I need to ignore someone in need, I have one eye... I still make no claim to that, as PR is paramount, even for a cyclops, but if one needs to blame, my eye...

Every time I pretend to be a protector of peace and some other buzzwords, but in reality use my immunity to murder... it is my one eye. After all, I could not, exactly...

Not see anything apart from my fear, could I? I was afraid, therefore others should forfeit their lives, and it is not like there are not many others...

Besides those who bestowed my immunity... others who also support my actions, for some spurious reason, until they are dead themselves... I mean, presumably...

They still support me, even after then, and if they happen to not do so, if there is some kind of consciousness, still, well, they cannot communicate it; my one eye.

My apologies, have I rambled inanely? I was supposed to ask the whereabouts of Heracles, if you happen to know; I was supposed to rampage on a city, but he disliked it...

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Lip:

Ah, you... what might you want, now...? I am busy, do you not know? Busy with all the random luck the universe bestowed upon me. Uh, I am not totally aware of it, but...

I have a slight inkling... and, I suppose, I did acknowledge a certain situation, which, I suppose, is better than the minimization that others have done, so, why...

Why could one not be content about that? Is that not all one needs in life, at times? I mean, always better than being dead, no? No? Ah, so busy with my luck, a lucky...

Evasion, and now all this... not a single lonely day, and one can see all the luck I collect, just here... such a full life I lead, I certainly have no need to speak...

With someone who has none. Seriously, though, if one has no life... are they not, technically, by definition, dead? Ah, death in life, is it? Where every atom of...

Horror derives from... after all, one can hardly feel while fully dead. Not me, though, and not with my luck... never had a need for empathy, either; justification...

Ah, so... so busy, with all I like doing... well, mostly... all someone has not... all and nothing, quite a pair, no? Even opposite concepts make more sense than...

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Anubis:

Ah, I seem to have come out of some fantasy-induced fugue, or such, and for some reason I seem to have ended up with some kind of injury... not entirely sure how, but...

It seems to be connected to the past, which, I suppose, is quite a lot, considering I think I lived in some ancient lands... not entirely certain if this is the present.

Might you know? Why, all seems to be falling apart, but only nominally, mostly, if you get my drift... still, what is this injury from? Could Osiris have come after me...

In my sleep, perhaps, or earlier on? Were they even supported by the rest of the worshippers...? A long time ago, this pain seems to have begun... will it ever end?

Was death not adequate? Is pain not supposed to be temporary? Why do I merely seem to be one of those whose souls I weighed, why... just a wanderer, in oblivion...

I suppose... I fell, but was I ever anywhere? Was it but an illusory distraction? One that did not even last until... suddenly... is annihilation not enough? Can I, even?

Could it be, maybe, somatic? Psychogenic? In ancient times we had not, quite, developed widely known theories, but I have a few hunches; still, it caught me by surprise.

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Buddha:

Ah, to be at peace, which you shall never know, for it is more likely for one's life to cease, as woe envelops you... and, sometimes, is that not how life develops?

To be accepting of absurdities, it is not this or that, and although differing by magnitudes, they are certainties... all I am saying is... perhaps, it so concludes...

Who can say, though? Who can pinpoint where the snow lands? Whose society can anoint functionality? Why, everyone's affected by banality... peace, then, may be deflected.

Be joyful, though, for caprice is what occupied thine life, and while it did subside, strife never, quite, disappears... and those little existential gears do not...

Quite... grease themselves... and while it may not be as torrential, still, a piece of sanity one shall not find, for that is, ultimately, the very core, the crux of...

Humanity... no surprise, then, it means nothing else other than pure brutality, and while certain states, like serenity, are possible, remotely, the gates are rusted...

Why do they all reckon I merely react not? What else would one do, in the abstract, what can one do, except, at least, to decide what the sun shines on? If there was one.

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Beast:

I dwell within the blighted realms... for a reason... for, once I did not, and cost me my sanity, at the very least, it did... some places, though, is where some...

Seem to be better... suited. As, otherwise, even if some realms seem barren, or arid, for that matter... has one ever thought societies, despite the bustle, could not...

Be described as such? What is contained within the average... life, shall we say... of one's own species, too... could very well be 'barren'... in fact, that is often...

A charitable description, as such... I mean, so many are just barren, barely seem to know the definition of empathy, at best sociopathic... and that is the better side...

As, another sizeable amount within any collective is made out of explicit psychopaths, and one needs not to, necessarily, leak poison in tea, for one to be so... some...

Societies seem to want that, though, to label it as such, even if so many traits, held in common, are psychopathic, although not possibly lethal... and, no, my looks...

Well... must have gathered by now, but I look like this because I isolated myself, not because I happen to remain lodged in societies with murderous intent...

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NecroMonster:

I... gather that which is indivisible, and yet so it is, artificially, as if the difference between life and death is but a feather... I gather all, I squander all...

That... communication, this strange affair, which is, I suppose, the only exchange we can commit to, as of now, but in other venues... in some realms, collectives...

Some concepts have no meaning... for others, meaning is created out of thin air... synonyms, analogizing universal, along with such petty artificialities... precedents?

They were supposed to mean something, do you not know? Only insofar as one needs it to mean something, of course... just as other concepts are used... solely to justify.

Advance... a certain biological desire; quite subjective, yet some seem to think they somehow ought to apply it to all? Only reason they attempt to convince others of...

The existence of gods... not because some, genuinely, subscribe to that, of course... wealth, or... an attempt to replace that definition with themselves, to become gods.

Of course, in this sordid, cursed world... nought has any meaning, apart from what is agreed on, in that hellish of physical realms... societies... meaning changes...

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Creature Devourer:

That of which I am, metaphorically, antimatter, and yet... it is all I am made of, for in this universe made out of mostly one type of substance... only that can...

Annihilate... I am that which discriminates not... and, yet, I am not quite as facile, as hypocritical, as all the other collective, social nonsense that also enables...

Destruction... I am that which cannot be contained, often, that which needs a certain type of physicality, for a possibility to be lost in the mists of time, and yet...

Irony... as that same substance can also form me, Shiva, but also, hypothetically, destroy my very essence... I am, then, in some sense, not very different from...

Societies... which do, almost randomly, either create, or crush... of course, I, personally, am not so invested in the outcome, and survival is, actually, my rationale...

Psychopathy... not quite... I might end up erasing from existence even those who just began life, but, at least, I do not do it out of a need for... neurotransmission...

I am, but, the randomness within life... necessities of biology, omnipresent... reason why life has always been an error... and, yet, the reason for life itself...

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Ganesh:

I am that of which is made conceptual, a mere psychological glitch, perhaps, or an attempt at the perpetual, but... not really, for what creatures would hold sacred...

Yet contempt, for the very same process that enabled them? I suppose, the need to oppress, and fabled fantasy... what does matter, though? The latter is subjective and...

While it may entertain some, the collective does not... in vain, for only hatred is wrought... and, so, it is of no wonder... how the sacred is plundered; individuals...

Well, those who fit not, along with the collective, encumbered... and although they might flit, to far away realms, to... write, reason for my creation, it underwhelms...

For the foundation of collectives is not the word, concepts, but objectives... self, blurred... suddenly, imagination is, just... not one's salvation, anymore; subtly...

Insanity may creep in, but, then, relative it is, in more ways than one, humanity; cruelties, seep in, luck nowhere, despite myself... only rot snuck in, I thought...

Why, it dried on the wall, and puzzled they were, never noticing the haul of misery; possibly a suicide, muffled, for throughout all of history, a bout of psychopathy...

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Skeleton Warrior:

We need to advance, fortify our parameters, hold our defences as long as we can! For, surely, if we believe we can, we could, or such! No? What... are we defending from?

Let me see... was something, but cannot quite recall it... as if a haze of dreams lies above... lies? Who was lying? Narcissistic sociopaths? I do not think they were...

The worst affairs of all, were they? Why, also, seemingly were there idealized matters? Was this not an outright war? No? Hm, I suppose the psyche is not, typically...

A major factor in a war... well, unless split-second decisions need to be made, then we can blame weary brains for the losses of our lives, surely... we shall fight...

Though, we shall, against those in similar suits, and numbered armies, we shall fight! Wait... where are they? Is this a... chronological thing? Where time is crucial?

I am, also... all suited up for... what? When the opponent, apparently, was in the past, and was much larger, a Titan, that no apparel is useful against? No army, too?

So confused, am I... what am I all prepared for, then? Nothing? Am I malfunctioning? What is this world about? Who is anyone else, here...? Baffling, befuddling...

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Bat Dark:

Eat you while alive, I shall! Wait, what, why... are you smirking? Am I supposed to be funny? You know, just because I am relatively small does not mean... everyone in...

The realm I derive from... is about my size! Hey, just because your own destroy you, does not mean ours does too! We are an independent species of... no, not chibis! Ugh.

Also, no! I shall not be your occasional source of comedy in a darkened world of despair, verily! If you want that try and find a clown, or some such! Then they can...

Possibly talk about why in the world they wear an artificial nose, or some such! Ugh, seriously... I have gigantic fangs, do you not see? Relative to my size, at least...

Oh, interesting... you are... something, in connection to that word, are you? Words are funny, are they not? So subjective, yet... and, see, if I was truly malevolent...

I would use that against you, but... ugh, alas, you wasted most of my talking space, and now I barely have any characters left! You defeat a cute demon once more! Ugh...

Why am I even here, anyway...? Would I not be better placed in that sunny town, or, at worst, the Halloween cemetery, not a bloody hospital's roof? Maybe the forsaken...?

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UD Archer:

I... from a polygonal past come, and why I happen to be here, where most others seem to be more... complexly constructed... I am not sure... happen to be here, though...

What else is the alternative? An arrow to the knee? I would rather just wander around here, aimlessly, too... what else does one do, especially when lost? Speculate?

Well, if you ask for it... so, I know this is not, exactly, my area of expertise, considering I am, about, a generation prior, but you see that large creature over there?

You might have passed over... somewhat similar looking to a whale, if one of those had limbs... well, do you reckon... I suppose, they might be... sinful? Metaphorically.

After all, that is the idea around these parts... not sure why anyone would refer to such a concept in any literal sense, anyway... so, I mean, do they not look, as if...

They belong somewhere else? I suppose, we all might do, but they, in particular, reminds of a certain round number... not sure why I ramble on, so, honestly... literally.

Say, does the night air feel soft to you? Breezy? I cannot, quite, feel it... at all, you see, since I am skeletal. You can, though, no? No? Just a bit? I wonder why...

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Ceratoferox:

Your... contextual, neuronal networks... are they not tasty? So frazzled, yet abandoned now, are they not? Clearly, after a long while, certain collectives need not...

To use and throw away, their mantra; despite being carnivores, ironically... not me, not the shadows of oblivion, we would devour you, if you so wish to give up...

What, exactly, do you hold onto, anyway? The rot? Those that swarm? The remote hope that, despite no hope ever being available, at any other time, that... somehow...

Suddenly... hope springs eternal, and all? Suddenly, someone will, randomly, care, when they, literally, could not care less, ever... what kind of delusions are those?

The best part is that you do not seem to think they are, as such... somehow, that there might be possibilities, just because art gave you a window... one's manic...

Thoughts, though, those monkeys, all over... whisper sweet despair, do they not? Welcome you to eternal damnation, would they not? Nothingness is not as negative as...

That is it, though, is it not? Even if, hypothetically, there was an oasis... of comedy, despite some also being psychopathic, or idealized fantasies; darkness, still...

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Charcharosaurus:

I shall tell thee, with no equivocation... if all of life was rational, and not merely an instinctual, survival at all costs... all of them would seek to end this...

Conscious misery, once and for all... oh, I suppose, there might be the remote possibility that the same kind of atoms are recycled, and so imbued with life once more...

Rationally, though, when one is conscious, and in all likelihood merely subject to another's oppression, life is inherently predatory... suicide, then, has always been...

Merely rational... of course, that is no denying the role that these irrational instincts play, and the fear of darkness will always be there... still, how else...

Can one explain this sordid world? No, though, most, if not all of life, keep to their instincts... our ancient selves did, too, until that meteor... annihilated both...

The huge rex, and the smallest lizard; social relations can certainly hold no candle to automated physics... and so it will be, in this miserable world, until the end...

Gaze upon the lunar splendour... it is reality, a dark, grim sociality, to the garish sun's blind delusions of sizzling intensity that fries one's soul, for all eternity.

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Statue C:

This war I shall strive to fight, for only then I would soar... as the eternal knight of the moon, I am... for, despite the past, that infernal nightmare, I shall soon...

Immortal, be made... through all that societies could ever come up with, a portal, made of legends and anxieties... now, I might consider the possibility of an error...

For a few seconds... after all, Achilles lived through, and if my only option is Styx, either way, why not? After all, all I otherwise have is clicks, and to reprise...

All that emptiness... I do not seek, not in any sort of state of readiness, but then... fate may have something else, in store... who knows? Disaster's mysterious lore...

I am... wait, damn... a statue?! Fate threw my plans, after all! Ah, what a sordid state, truly... usual existence, cruelly... what if, though, it was merely... distance.

Between my consciousness, and the world? After all, my hope, there, swirled, for a bit... until the slope of misery revealed itself, victory impossible, dark congealed...

Petrified, I stand, then, until I realize, until I decide, to cogitate, to reprise, my role not to conflate... with any unrealistic whole... a mere statistic, my spear...

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Gorilla:

Once, in the future, when all is done... when trivial affairs taken care of, when instincts tended to... when all one aspires to is sustenance... when one barely thinks.

Not that, I suppose, that implies anything, as is often done, not just by implication... as if it is not every single life that has instincts, as if species can be...

Differentiated... and not, say, utterly random, as natural chaos itself is... as if old eras and lives are delineated by strife, and nothing happens in the present...

Still... could there have been remnants of reactions to danger, dipped in instincts, passed down through the centuries, that destroy non-threatening lives? Perhaps, or...

They are, merely, choices made... after all, if instinctual reactions are not needed... instincts are not, really, at play, are they? That is it, then, most likely...

I... react, in a jungle, to a threat... while a hypothetical increase of catecholamines might have been inherited... in non-threatening situations it is a mere choice...

What... happen to be wondering how could a gorilla ruminate so much? While I am not, technically, a ruminant, I do still... well, look around you, a devastated reality...

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Dragon B:

Seek the skies, and travel ye shall... or, some such nonsense... eh, I am certainly not here as some scaly prophet, or, indeed, to challenge you to a duel, like so...

Many seem apt to do... nah, I am merely here to offer my observations, although, whether they are relevant, or at all interesting, is another matter, and probably a ship.

One that has, subjectively, sailed... everything is just that, though, is it not? I suppose, there are certain common things... most, though, so individual, and even...

Those affairs that are held in common... certain thoughts, responses... merely accorded to averages, they are... so, if one is within that statistical curve...

Most will be familiar... if not, though, well, the opposite... so, as an example, if I was the first dragon you met, after some other tales... one will likely expect...

A certain response from me... and, you either believed I hoard gold and need to be slain, and such, or merely that I do not, really, exist... all I do, though...

All I do, merely, is stare at this sky, in this perpetual night... sordid darkness may be all this world might have, but this airy breeze, our consciousness, will not...

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Spinosaurus:

Need, I do, to... cruel, be, demean, tear limb from limb... it is all I ever did, and all I ever desire to do... annihilate, decimate, inflict as much pain as possible...

For, why else would one evolve so? I am, like every other life, for different purposes, a tool... made for, myself, pain, just others could feel... it is all I made...

All I am for... until the last moment I shall inflict pain, even seconds before the meteor lands, and if they are so tired, so broken that they can barely leave...

My vicinity... pain I shall inflict... even after I am extinct, the pain will be residual... and if I am reborn, and if I can no longer harm directly, if I can no longer.

Bite the flesh, as I have always done... I still will do all possible, even if I have to utilize sociological loopholes, future humans' collective psychopathy, I will...

Just to inflict pain... and even if I can no longer do that, or could never, I will still attempt to utilize all I can, words if all, to hurt... pain is all I live for...

Pain is, after all, a communicator, is it not? Even when language never was, yet, and even when it is, all it will always say is "I could not care less"; I am born so...

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Statue D:

Welcome to the crux of dire, bedlam, a damaged spire with an influx of insanity. Some might think this is but inanity, and, I suppose, for those not on the brink, who...

Do not, quite, see the point of being verbose... subjective it is, the joint of virtuality... once they were, though, affective... long before the snow of dread fell...

Upon a future not yet tread... net had not been cast, possibilities... possibly vast... ah, culpabilities, one wonders, after so many died... although, I suppose...

The thunders of fate... when they happen to be accurate, when the hate is misshapen... whatever can one do? Even when lives sever... when one dives into insanity...

Whatever, indeed, is the point of rhyme? Who knows, but then again, there is little purpose in anything, including mime... welcome, at any rate, to this abode, where...

Coherency is seldom... still, who cares? As long as one adheres to the delirancy, and tears dry not... an attempt was made, fought, but now, all there is... is contempt.

Tire one does, instincts be damned, of all that was prior... all the sordid crammed, all the bile boarded; just happenstance, no guile... a mere dark chance, a gory arc.

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LostOne:

I... am not quite sure what happened... I was over in some other dimension, you see, with that vicious creature over in that corner over there... why they do not come...

I am not sure... annihilate me did that creature do, though... I keep living, how? That is what I do not get... it is, as if, they forgot to crush me, entirely...

Obliterate me... yet, I keep moving around, flailing around, to be precise... wandering, malfunctioning, some even wondering how come I do not have the usual kind of...

Life... as if, somehow, the obvious in front of them is missed, and that is when it is obvious; although, I suppose, some may be so blinded by their own lives...

Their own random luck... many do not, even, acknowledge it as luck, and merely think it is pure skill that they are where they are... I suppose, in parallel, it must...

Have been my incredible skills that ended up with me and that creature in some other dimension where, apparently, they are free to destroy me, but not entirely...? Skill.

I mean, I realize, at this point, it is more rational than not to just not keep merely flail anymore, even if they do not, personally, finish me off, but my instincts...

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Ripper:

Ah, to devour, from above... although, how? It might seem, as if, we are all in the same place, here, an identical environment... a collective realm of creatures...

Annoyingly, I do not seem able to act on anyone else, here... as if an invisible barrier exists... now, why would anyone ever think of such a thing? Just to tease?

Showing us everyone else, letting our eyes feast on them, but unable to literally do so... and, I mean, I would not attempt it with some, to clarify... some... quite...

Gigantic creatures, shall we say... I would not, if there was no barrier, approach... I suppose, then, thinking about it, it does happen to be protective too...

If they could, certainly would likely devour me too, if they could... is that not how it goes in this sordid existence? Devour all one can... as long as sociological...

I suppose... strictures? If the barrier could be called that... still, whatever happened to this one nearby? Looks like someone got to them... looks tasty... frustrating.

In another dimension... I slice up living beings diagonally... I do derive a certain joy from it; after all, I seem to have evolved as such, so why not fulfil potentials?

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Drakonit:

I... am kind of an evolved form, you see, from dragons, that is... I derived from them, yet I can... finesse, shall we say, a slight bit more subtly... advantageously...

After all, is that not, at times, better for one's very own purposes? I mean, it is no use to be all vicious, threaten seemingly everyone within a certain geography...

In turn, then, be slain, or such... no use at all, no? No, much better to remain under the radar, within collectives' radar even, if possible... I mean, if they are...

All fine with the hoarding of gold on a mountain, or the crushing of creatures trapped near to oneself, then... why not avail oneself... subtly? After all, one's own...

Psychopathy... is often mirrored, within collectives... so, as long as they are not, apparently, threatened, otherwise.... it is the problem with large creatures, like...

Unevolved dragons, you see, the problem is a lack of subtlety... one can do a lot, over many years, if one remains in the shadows... even beyond the grave, one destroys.

Now, some might think me heartless, or horrid, but is this not the voice of evolution? An outgrowth of nature itself? Ah, to break life, to loom ever so large in a mind.

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Creature D:

Burrow into... hearts sullied, is what I do, and have always done... evolved, did I, to dig deep into that crevice, to taste the sweet sun of sordid sorrow, and...

Listless life... every evolution for a purpose, mine being to drag the confines of physicality out in the open, for myself... not it makes any difference... I change...

No variable... no one in the metaphysical realm can do anything to alter a differing dimension... fundamentally... no one can blame us, just like no one can blame genes.

It is, merely, a choice... always has been, just as I have a choice to burrow, as I do... I might have evolved for it, I might be ideally suited for this, just as some...

Birds' beaks are ideally suited for trees... still, is, ultimately, a choice every creature makes... not, unless, of course, there is some deterministic force that is...

Not quite obvious... I suppose, it could always be subtle, just as air... consciousness, though... certain acts are more viable through hormones, but choices, in the end.

Of course, one does not discount the possibility of speculating without the full knowledge of, and likelihood that free will exists not... is it, though? To act...

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Bog lord:

One... scurries... flits from place to place, but what does it matter? When did it ever? It all is quite hopeless, one has always known... and when one acknowledges it...

When one, finally, gives in, gives up... I am there to witness it all, I am there to relish the despair... as are many others, around here... as are many of one's own...

Species... which, in all likelihood, will be the reason for one's downfall... unless, of course, one, perhaps, gets too close to a wild animal, or such... which is...

Obviously... a foregone conclusion, a ship long departed, when it comes to one's own species, that adjective and noun very much, still, relevant... now, is one not...

Overjoyed... at the prospect, or foregone conclusion, of being so confined with wild animals? Why, one could, almost, wish that a bear could rip one to shreds, or such...

As... within absolute oblivion, even if momentarily... quite painful... lies the cessation of it all; oblivion, the romanticized idealization... one wishes such, no...?

Let one be dragged down to the abyss of nothingness, for only in there can one observe an eternal, soothing unconsciousness, bereft of inevitable woe, anxiety, fear...

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Reptil:

Being... fed... as all other life... certain dimensions exist to... feed certain beings... myself, I feed on misery... life, barely having the automation of machines...

Generates misery for me... curious how, though, they think that it is something they desire, themselves, to make others miserable, to hurt others, but in reality... I am.

All there is... all the negativity, all the anxiety, the desperation while cornered... especially... I relish it, as a cosmic, ethereal being... I evolved to sustain...

Myself on all that... after all, what use is it if it all goes to waste...? Throughout the centuries, all the violence, genocides, murders, legalized pain; I devour all.

This is how I am able to maintain my... magnitude... I am, verily, the mystical god of all psychopaths; humans, evolved, led to, my very existence to create... it is all.

I am all that relates to the lack of empathy, for truly, what other pleasantry would life have? It is all, for some, destiny... no lenity, maximum entropy, my ecstasy...

To die is not the point, no, for the why is in the suffering... I pry open the psyche, you fry in an eternal sun... alternatives, there are none, destruction is done...

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Statue F:

To be, wondered the tree, for it, still, had a consciousness it plundered... for some need it not, even under a moonlit sky, for existence is but wry... when one...

Only has persistence... in a world, sordidly full, lonely... is it natural, though? To be morbidly, a lateral Thanatos, one wonders... why? What once was, now dry...

To have died... by any other means than suicide, is irrational, although not in one's genes... reason why anything 'holy' expands, within it, to be eternal melancholy...

Why, then, does one merely ruminate? Could it, perchance, be cognate with the possibility of a glance at... eternity? Surely not, for reality is... a vat of obscurity...

Why, then, would one bother? Not sure, one is, but to proffer... a certain existential coffer, of all that was, potential gone, because brawn makes one drawn; no brakes.

What else could one do when nothing is already the crux, annihilation rushing, depression a deluxe? When one is surrounded by memories, what seems like centuries...

What scope does life oft have, what fantastic hope, when, through drastic courage, and a rope, within other dimensions, that disparage, one can elope? The void envelops.

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Imp:

Ah, is dejection not sour? Is ennui not useless? Perhaps, one is ennui? One never knows how one might fit in another number, or such... really, though, the fact that...

Everything goes wrong... everything, everyone dies... even those you thought would be preferable to be in such a state, yet there... nothing, was there? Was the...

Abyss not merely staring back at you? Was it not inviting you in? No? Are you not entranced by the sweet nothingnesses? By the infinite void inside? All that is sour...

Abject... sordid, miserable, dreary... I suppose, unless you like that last one, the void, I admit, might be a slight bit dreary... still, is it not an otherwise...

Attractive proposition? After all, you know what living beings are merely there for, no? To live their lives? No, not at all... sustain the god of psychopathy...

Many are there for, some having had no choice at all in such situation, psychopaths being who they are... fellow over there, life exists for... now, how is that sweet?

I am here merely as a sort of messenger, of course, having... not much influence over any.... existential affairs, shall we say... a mere delivery of words, is all... no?

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Fishman:

How fleeting, truly, is all, yes? Here, I merely exist to... who knows why... I feel, as if, out of my depth, as such... still, what else could one do? What, indeed...

Besides flailing, as one often does, what else? Lest one desires for all to plunge to the innermost... ravine of nothingness... what else can one do? I suppose, two...

Choices, in some sense, binary, even if existence is not, actually, as clear-cut... in some affairs, two, in some sense, sort of a parallel to the past and future...

In life, one does not, quite, ever live optimally... well, relative, in more ways than one... and, so, even if one is not a pathetic sacrifice to that titan, over there.

Whose size is merely symbolic of all that is sordid life, which is really its core, to be horrid... even if one is not, fully, at least in one's estimation, relatively.324Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgaDn3TmwQk
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Well... some qualities are more the crux of life, than others... so, either that, or... embrace the infinite nothingness that, even now, can pervade life... verily...324Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe3aPjJukL3
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What else could one do? At least, sometimes, one has an option, no compulsion, and, I suppose, ultimately, nothingness will only ever increase in quantity, you know?

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Creature E:

I... usually... in the bottomless darkness, I dwell... surfacing only occasionally, to breathe life into an oppressive existence, but is that not curious? How lives...

Essentially... compel one to keep living, no matter what, no pause... at a very basic level, one breathes, and where creatures can then store the oxygen, or not...

Still, a similar physiology, the basis of all biological oppression, not imposed by other lives, for once, but... life itself... and, sure other aspects that are...

Also needed, to sustain such biology, but, at least, there is a certain element of reward... neurotransmission which, in this one instance... might, or might not...

Involve other lives being impacted, based on what is devoured, or drunk... so, one can see how life begins, fundamentally, by the oppression of oneself, then goes on...

Onto others, by necessity, to degrees... quod erat demonstrandum... cruelty is more at the roots than one might think... of course, that precludes artificial structures.

I mean... what do you expect me to do, while alone in that neverending abyss, and nigh-infinite watery pressure... other than ruminate on life? Better than just existing.

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Gargoyle B:

Trust us, they all say, with their subjective, perverted sense of justice; ours is a society, they asserted, but it jars... although, of course, they would never admit...

That would not flow, not to them, not when... at the very stem... is hypocrisy... would not do, not to those, not to the mediocracy... one knows, yet... whatever could...

One do? When one's life is under threat? In lieu of the Gothic, not much, not unless, one supposed, one's very existence is catastrophic, and while, as the cliche goes...

Persistence is admirable, or some such nonsense, what if the future is... uninhabitable? Just a delightful permanence on a computer; all because, a raw cradle of the...

Past, nigh fatal, Moloch's fly-by, but it is society's rust, diabolic indifference, yet... it expects, asks, beyond the belligerence, objects to anything outside the...

Norm, despite their own catch-22 storm... oh, but to rue, the sprite that never was... outside of the nightmare, with claws, for the despair is the real hanger-on...

One's a gargoyle, but do not ask me to foil life's plots, for a statue am I, even if one's life rots, and there is still that question, what when lives die? Inception...?

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Creature F:

Is it not... petty? Is life not... futile? For some reason, though... for some reason... or, no reason, at all... you know that is possible, yes? No reasons? Even...

Existence itself seems to be bereft of reason... why, then, does anyone expect life, which randomly grew out of existence, to have any meaning? If anything...

It would be subjective... you know what that means, though? It means... everyone creates their own meaning, and everything, including societal structures, are merely...

Subjective priorities... and, of course, if theft is all they care about, it is what happens, and corruption is, usually, the base of all... air that society breathes...

It could get worse than that, though, could it not? I suppose, theft may still deprive the collectives of resources, but at least that is collectives being affected...

Often, they even voted them in, though, so... by golly, I look as such not due to one's decision, no... when collectives affect individuals, you see... strange meaning...

I... just... see, rarely, beauty, anymore... barely... whatever can one do, after all, if one's meaning is an anvil dropped from high up? If one is still alive, after...

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House:

"A mere luxury, to be tired, in the future, listless, just as it was, for survival, to be wired; a basic formality, to have an archrival, as, after all, mortality howls."

"Howls from the bowels of hell; not some neutral underworld, but an abode where depletion dwells. Where, genetically, and sociologically, it may only implode..."

"Then again, what does it matter? If some error occurs, a deletion; ah, but is that not how the 'batter' is made? Some flour, and intrinsically societies' indifferent..."

"Yet... will, to power, for until a skull sits there; by a hair, it does cower... regardless of whether it would seek, existence will, always, be bleak; clearly, then..."

"Persistence is the joke, from the past to the future, when the smoke of despair fills the cup of emptiness, for it is all that life is, oppressive heaviness..."

"What else could it expect, except for broken windows? Ah, but to be woken in another dimension, where fantasy takes flight, and tension is not - ah, but all is night..."

"Far away, it went, in the hopes, for a dragon to slay; but human it was, and the most realistic? Ropes. Was it fatalistic? Free will seems a factor. A useless reactor."

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Blue:

What if, say, and this is purely hypothetical, from my addled brain, a mere thought experiment, mind... so, what if... say, life was born with one specific purpose...

The purpose? Why, what else do you reckon? What has sensory receptors, and is the largest organ? No? Personally, not sure why some think life has no meaning, when it...

Seems fairly obvious, there, physically... why else do you reckon monsters like us exist? Oh, wait... ethereal beings, right... other word should more appropriately...

Refer to... well, you know, intentions, not appearances... so, anyway, as I was saying... pain, right? What if it is the reason why life exists? Inorganic physicality...

It has no such sensations, after all... now, I am, by far, not saying people wish, or even will, to be born for this, but that... along with skin having all the surface.

Quite seems to indicate some... sickness at the crux of life, no? With psychopathy being the biological proof... and, you know, nightmares; are we not physical symbols?

Ugh... I know... enjoy, relish, scoop all the joy possible, etc... is it possible, though? I suppose, one might try, would one succeed, though? Doubt it... look at us...

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TZ:

Ah, us... uh, need we... reason to invent... spurious, quite, but then, what reason in this world is not so... no? I need brains, but also... more, so much more...

Perhaps, say, your future? I suppose, one might gamble on it, although... I suppose, life does that all by itself, verily... still, all quite variable, quite random, no?

Then again... feel random to oneself they do, but are they really? Spurious they might be, oblivious too, perchance, but who is not? All of society, this grand malaise...

An experiment, just so, every time, geographically distinct, but.... sickness, a constant... variable too, nonetheless... starts almost to sound like programming, huh?

As if... all are but binary, just some bits moved around... only problem is... consciousness, is it not? So persistent... so ever-present... so sordid, terrible...

Over and over and over... it never ends, does it? Well, it does vary, for one. Over such long periods, nigh eternal. Then, the singular, on repeat, forever, as if a boot.

Ah, the sweet stench of... eternal sorrow, yes? No past, no future, interminable misery, just as societies like it... oh, do not mistake it, they will annihilate, still.

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Creature exterminator:

Ah, myself, having the strength of a spear, yet a maiden... I was deigned by a saint to... annihilate. For the god above to be nourished, distilled psychopathy, with...

All the humanity possible... chase away the spirit of the woods, I did... not murder, though, for that only a society can... everything else, individuals happily chip in.

Quite a variety, too... and, one might say, I learned from a couple of other vicious ones, once a victim... surprisingly... no, though, when it came to my... magnum opus.

Ah... no one can take it away from me; no excuses, please... I chose to do it, I loved it, for a mere three months it was, full to the brim... as if a boiling pot, or...

Condensed antimatter, maximal gravitation... joy sold at carnivals, everyone revels... in the pain... especially societies, no? Who cares, after all, she was left here...

Oh, and, this? Quite contagious... see? It is not genetic, after all... or, not sure... either way, no one nearby cared, they never do... now, decades ago, or centuries.

Are collectives... ah, apologies, I mean 'civilizations'... are they not pretty? Just as I am... claim, do they, that what I did was horrid? Why, they set it all up...

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Statue G:

Is it not quite curious how... long ago, annihilated, for all some can be is furious... sole result, neurochemistry, evaporated... quite the recipe for disaster, does...

Biology have... and, hilariously, some think there is some planner, presumably, living out the destroyed lives, vicariously... oh, but the hives of villainy rest not...

For, if pressed, they would claim... oh, of course, they can, but also, someone else to blame... and until one was hoarse, on one goes, parallel to mirror neurons...

Along with the prose... for, who cares, truly, about some distant, mental throes? Consistent with the average of those around, for one's mind to relish, to astound...

Ah, reality's polish, the multidimensional aspect of it, Calliope's desperation, brawn to demolish... as, really, what can one ever do, if the very foundation rots?

To rue birth itself, verily, that which plots the decimation of worth, for until one's cessation, what else... unless one could unearth technology, wax melts...

Ah, but one is not devious, for that a difference is needed, a standard, only previous; the sickness, though, once seeded, long permeates, regardless of witness... fates.

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Wendigo:

Oh, thyself, in quite the quandary, is it not? First we did encounter... when, again? In those fabled times when delusion was rampant, and eyes closed... when the...

Psyche delegated to one's subconsciousness... still, it is when we first met, was it not? Not quite in this form... just as you are far more decrepit, so am I. Time...

It makes a mockery of all, does it not? Not merely that, but... oh, what was that, again, I had the capability to manipulate time and space, did I? Ah, once, when...

Hope had not, quite yet, been annihilated by antimatter... or its sociological counterpart... at that point, when anger still overtook me, albeit... not entirely...

Now, though... no one is there, just a freefall of gravity, where one barely exists, and all one can do is ruminate on the past, what once was, and the impossible future.

The funniest affair is... assume they do, that, somehow, eating one's own species is so terrible... cracking their lives open, though? Just fine... like sizzling days...

The hypocrisy is what is interminable, is it not? Might be the one irresistible force to move along any immovable objects, verily... well, besides psychopathy...

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LionBronze:

Oh, if only one recognizes that which is obvious, futility, for it is all there is, regardless of the mightiest, fragility... a hopeless universe, in spite of the...

Haughtiest, all are still nought... still, though, confident they feel, for luck they had; skills, they thought... reality, though, has certain hills, physics, but...

Well... certainly, ignore that they do, at best, just as with civics... why not, if one can have a fest... of impenetrable ignorance... and, while nature can affect it...

Collectively, a species, can still issue a writ, although, and I am sure that for these individuals, hellishly, nature can so deny it, and, I suppose, they would reckon.

Reckon that nature did it selfishly, with no sense of irony whatsoever, and then they beckon for 'understanding', when they had none, at all, for others; nor standing...

For nature grants no cert for nepotism; humanity, no advert... oh, but, they claim; wealth, backgrounds, got they, but to nature... sophism. A greedy, vile legislature...

Devoid of any substance, these systems are... pretend to be logical, but only for an instance; what humans are not, really, is epistemological, though; lies, status quo.

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SKTormented:

Our idol for... all that is inherent... life itself... needs the release of all those desires... all that results in pain, it wants, needs, and we are but pawns to him...

So are all the mortal psychopaths too, to be clear... even though, ironically, they think they are free, but never can they be, as long as they are connected through...

The desire to hurt others... well, I suppose, those others are, effectively even less free, but then... is that not how life began? How mitochondria came out...

So, you see, what one might hypothetically reckon is a somewhat recent development... is quite ancient... it might have accelerated in the last few millions of years...

It might have... always, though, a sense of brutality existed within life... survival, almost, necessitates that... and, I suppose, one might wonder if certain species...

As cats seem to do, in their 'play'... it is a double-edged sword; while it can be a sandboxed virtuality, 'play' can also translate into a hell for other creatures...

Whatever, though, can one ever do, except to try to futilely be as safe as possible in a hopelessly ruthless world of raw physicality that tears limbs from limbs...?

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Letalobrach:

I... seek... others, to... crush... annihilate... induce despair upon... make whole existences dire, fruitless, so hopeless that one keeps wondering... over, and over...

Decades after, ruminating over the non-viability of life, even if that is objective reality, and it is the others who pretend that there are any realistic potentials...

Those others are, in reality, the hopelessly deluded ones, but, ironically, they may thrive better, not only because me, or some such creature, never got to them...

I suppose, though, the placebo effect does function... still, if destruction is present all around a life... kind of useless to believe otherwise... after all...

A mountain can never be a molehill, regardless of anyone's subjective, mental state; and, ugh, annoyingly, I might never be as... all-encompassing as that cosmic symbol.

Symbol of the universe's propensity to hate, to hurt, to destroy... I might share similar attributes, but I have been here for a few millions of years less, sadly...

Still... at least, I exist in some form, in some dimension, my mind not annihilated... which cannot be said of my victims... and there is some barrier to prevent him....

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Statue H:

In twain I shall render you, evil creature from another dimension, for it is my fate, and bane, to deliver you to another world, regardless of one's hate, or pretension.

We have trained, went out of our way to gain, and our lives we feigned, to... confront you, vile monster; drain, did we, our own spawn, of any semblance of happiness...

Bygone is our existence, matched only by our propensity for nastiness... all to break your resistance, your otherworldly... verily, inhumane, esse from another time...

For even if, in the future, Charlemagne contains you, would the palace still fall by your hands, just where it stood... alas, time... and its sands... prevent us from...

Reaching you en masse... is it, though, real? Does the crumb of force hold no candle to your metaphysical zeal? Ugh, my energy leaves... for the curse remains, Thebes...

Are we, though, so different, you and I? While we reign... others cry. Your existence, a mere observation, you deign, yet... we are mortal, and only tools have serration.

Damn you, Lycurgus, you invisible fiend... creating but a circus, with your oracle quarantined; a trick of the mind, rhetorical, both of you were, and our society a blur.

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Omon:

Myself? I am not, quite, here to speak about such matters, but if you ask... a combination of a monstrous past, and a potential future, am I... still, I hunger for...

Depriving others... starving others, particularly the weakest in society, but hey... I look to the future, I am the 'change', the same as the monstrous past... ah, I...

Never, quite, admit that, of course... no, for all public purposes I am, verily, 'change'... when I literally tell all the same exact lies, push all the same...

Absolute suffering, and pain, for the most unable... oh, but for supposed equality, am I... not really, I just happen to have become a parasite inside the institution...

That purported to be so... ah, for, truly, there is no better suffering, no total hegemony of sadistic psychopathy, than if one took over both alternatives; are humans...

Not beautifully excruciating? Making psychopaths of all, do I, even those who merely want... what was that, again, 'change'...? Ah, the hilarity of inevitable propaganda.

Future am I, do you not mind... as the past, so am I... a future of pain, and gratification for those who merely got that... inexorable vote. Ah, such things, societies.

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Ghoul B:

Ah... shall we? Enjoy a... nice cup of tea, perhaps? Of despair, anger, depression... such ingredients, making such a concoction... relish it, for it is all one has...

Now, tell me, what do you reckon about hypocrisy? The rank kind? Ah, apologies, might just be myself, just out of a certain war from another dimension, you see, and...

There is... nowhere, exactly, to relax here, and cleanse myself of pure bile... oh, yeah, the aforementioned hypocrisy... I mean, at least it is garbage in, garbage out.

When it comes to myself, that is, looks and all... others, though, they have a tie, and all... hilariously, for the maximum, hypocritic drive, sort of thing...

They might also be named after the founder of a movement they perverted, now... I suppose, what else is in the formula? What other ingredients? Generally... up is down...

At least, I do not pretend to merely have a flesh wound, or such... I might be injured, well, scratch the equivocation; anyway, I still call out nonsense, all dimensions.

Still, it is sickening, is it not? Oh, I am sorry, it appears to be... a decision by the people? After the system has been set up and packaged, sure; frying pan, fire...

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Kabuki:

I... uh, I have no energy for this, honestly... I guess, though, if you want to talk, I could spare a few minutes, or however much... not sure why, frankly... I might...

Not be all there, if you know what I mean... I am not even sure where I am, I seem to have materialized out of nowhere... I might have been going insane, just before...

Might be why I seem to be attired as such... where was I, even, before? Hm... I think... well, certainly not around these creatures... all else appeared similar to me...

Which... still does not mean much, in terms of who wants to inflict harm, and who does not; these, around here, have not, so far. Back then, though... well, there was...

Someone, once... ah, never mind, they were all like that, as if the Borg themselves... who, very basically... just wanted to grift; I suppose, a petty thief would...

These were not petty, though... had resources of entire nations, did they, just because no one had any choice. Stole did they, not just wealth, but entire futures...

Is it not funny, though? I mean, if one was to be angry, or at least... a bit too much, whatever that is... it seems there never is enough; but, oh, then one is to blame.

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Statue I:

Ah, but I am, finally, now, a most prominent minister, truly, and, as if, randomly it happened, due to various of others' mishaps, for my chance to be... sinister...

Ah, but... I might be different, they think, perhaps... oh, but I was, to be clear, quite vociferant... after all, I did prosecute, utilize that whose sole attribute...

Indeed, might be... hypocrisy, and what better fit, no? To extract the souls out of the most dependent, to give to the plutocracy... verily. For I am ascendent...

For I am... at 'variance'? Merrily, democracy advances forwards, just the... Latin etymological variation, as those who have the least we need to flatten; now I wonder...

Oh, do not blunder, for there is still a 'difference' between the past, and the future... our faces, for we are now cast... and, it is not, as if, prior moocher...

Will get nought, for we shall share; as, after all, nominal equality, we are for, just bought... a square, yet a landslide... where else would they go? Ah, to misguide...

Ah, a man of the state, am I; inevitably, clearly, but one has got to admit... I stepped up to the plate, with nary a whit of empathy; who cares, though? Not with legacy.

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DemonHunter:

Come, have I, to defeat that humongous creature o'er there; from other dimensions I have journeyed, a medley of narratives, for all... an inexplicably vast monstrosity...

I do not, even, have any idea why the creature is so much bigger than all others... might you have any clue? Perhaps, something to do with the... relative size of evil?

Wait, you react why? Is it, maybe, due to being in another dimension, and so, with all the air possibly devoid of oxygen, they have expanded beyond measure? Although...

If that was possible, then, I wonder why others have not, also, done so.... I do not get it... all of this seems so illogical, but... if so, why does any of it happen...?

Throughout my ventures I battled many a fiend, from megalomaniacal emperors, sorcerers, even mind-controllers from the moon... never, though, have I come across some...

Roof with demons all over that, yet, seem impenetrable; apparently, in contemplation of the massive one, yet what is one supposed to ever do about any of this...?

Oh, and do not let them convince you that they are merely messengers, that extra 'a' means little, really, apart from fancy spelling; still, I am confused over all this.

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Golem:

Is the despair of the silence before the storm not interesting? That is, of course, if there is such a luxury; we, here, seem to do, for now... as we are not, exactly...

Resident of any mortal realm, where madness is the algorithm, practically... where beings, such as myself, need to be conjured up, mostly in the imagination, for there...

To be any sense of understanding... where insanity is but the norm, and any questioning would, ironically, end up being termed that which is, logically, the actual norm.

Curious thing is... it has always been so, forever... all of time, particularly when it comes to a certain species, what is, rationally, regarded as insane... a nigh...

Constant prevalence... and then, obviously, those... slightly less insane, shall we say, are the ones they blamed, and ended up, in some cases, lethal ends. Tiring, no?

Of course, in the present this has, still, quite the foothold, even if they think it was worse in the past; a present where X is sanctioned for Y, but Z is not for Y...

From all sorts of fantasies, do I pertain to... still, it can never be free, can it? The fantasies will always be, necessarily, chained to reality, confined in memory...

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ProfessionalParasite:

Ah... I... no, wait, do not be forever repulsed by my image... I can, verily, rationally explain, using verbiage, to convince you of my logicality, surely... I suppose...

Oh... who am I kidding... I realize image is of import... and I... forever... look as such... which is why, I suppose, some of my... colleagues, shall we say... opted...

To become smaller in size... and reside in brains, or such, if you know what I mean... can often find a warm spot, or such, and then the host might spurt...

A little bit of... whatever their brains pump out, you know... and, lo and behold, guess what? I mean, it is quite something, but... regardless of how irrational...

Illogical, or plainly insane, whatever is said is... well, guess what? Others, of this demented species that destroys its own kind, totally subscribe to all the nonsense.

Well, some of them do... I believe, perhaps, those who are also host to other such parasites... well, either that, or their brains have already become mush due to others.

As of now... I merely rest here, but, I hear, one of my buddies took up residence in someone purporting to be for 'change', when all prior were parasites, too; so, funny.

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Statue J:

Ah, that hypothetical moment when ennui, as it happens, is a theoretical luxury, dewy mundanity an impossibility, for society have made the senses a drudgery, and the...

Tangibility of existence? Unlikely, not when nightmares invade reality, and the path of least resistance? Too fearful... why, give up would an actuary; when an incubus...

From the past, sneerful, transcends into the present... one can be meticulous, but reality will never stop to resent. For, did you know? The norm is certainly not...

What 'society' pretends to form; nightmare can surely reach the brain, regardless of the idealist, Voltaire... and the chain that cements to bygone days? Into the...

Abyss of eternal horrors one shall forever gaze... as the splendid eagle of what collectives, indeed, deem to be legal, unequivocally, does not include, regardless of...

Perspectives... anything short of murder, indubitably, even if derangement is construed... Alice in her Wonderland? Absurder. Irrationality in masses? Grand...

Why, it is, almost, a tool for survival, sarcasm... what else can one use in a darkened world full of despair, enthusiasm? Just be sure to... one's own mind, not impair.

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Killer:

I am a... certain murderer... not of lives, though, no... of hope, belief... systems, set up just to suffocate any possibilities... would one not love it? You see, all...

Tyrants ever had to do, to stave off revolts, is to merely say that, whatever the collective wanted, is there; they were, of course, too prideful for such a thing...

Not these days, they do it all... say that they are having it, but then, as if, use Zeno's paradox to still not give them what they want... and I am there to relish it...

To witness every time the 'winner' gets to mock others... in reality, probably some, at least, know that it is a merely unstable system, quick to vacillate... which is...

Their intention... and my act, that whispers to them the complexity of mathematics... which, obviously, the dumb, mostly psychopathic populace concentrating on their...

Next 'meal', of preys and predators, will, on the whole, be oblivious about... or, merely use their temporary advantage to mock the 'losers'; ah, pies, and knives...

So, you see, one can be a killer of abstract affairs, too... just, not too obvious, and still pump the narratives into their veins, like some sedative they happily have.

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ForestDemon:

The... supposedly inherent, instinctual irrationality a certain species claims to have, only because of ancestral evolution... is what I represent; hypocrisy, crux.

For, really, what kind of utter nonsense is that? Oh, one is only malevolent because... some scaly creatures exist, is that it? Not because one chooses, yes?

Free will is totally out of the equation then, is it? I mean, there might be a certain... cosmic aspect... factor, to that... not this, though, no... what brutes do...

Why they do something... is certainly not because one evolved from an ape, or even some long-forgotten lizard DNA, no... what pathetic excuses, verily... ashamed, they...

Should be, but, sadly, they seemed to have run out of that particular gene at the reptile, genetic store... oh, did I mention? They say all that... at the same time...

As when they claim that... only their certain species has "evolved characteristics", I believe... just not when it comes to 'baser' instincts, I suppose; no agency there.

I often desire I could crush their raw hypocrisy asunder, but, truly sadly, in my case, dimensions do separate us, and I happen to be not as psychopathic... oh, well...

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Statue K:

Mana is how I seem to thrive, both ancient and the fantastic kind... for, despite being surrounded by fauna, the mind still always seems to harken back, regardless of...

Emotionality, or the inevitable amyloid plaque... of course, just speculation, but still, the notionality... comes with the inexorable vexation that, to begin with...

Such is made, a reference... and, it seems to occur to no one at all that, even remotely, pathetic is deference; homo 'sapiens', though, feeling ignobly? Might as well...

Hope, to find, something inside craniums... although, what a neverending trope... from the past, to borrow, despite being devoid of magic; why, one would likely find...

Something of more worth in the abyssopelagic zone, but no... all they seem to think they are is... a mere, mindless clone, and proud of it, they are, as some analyses...

Might elucidate... not as such, though, how? With all that hate? Hundreds of statues, still, holier-than-thou... in opposition to irrationality, I refuse; yet, primality.

Sick is life, yet I exist, monument to nothingness, despite the strife; sophist might say, "possibilities lead to willingness"... if I may... nonsense is rife...

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Demon F:

Ah, myself, veritably a follower of the anointed one, yes, that is it, why not? I also hate like he preached... wait, was that it? It could not have been 'love', no?

Not possibly... anyway... I, the one named after innocence, for verily it is all I am, and also the end of... ah, if I only had annihilated that filth, but then, sadly...

I would, probably, be unable to continue to legislate to ruin lives, for I, also named after the hardened living matter in those wretched green spaces I, ironically...

Likely detest... ugh, bunny huggers, and all; oh no, I celebrate death, as all probable masculine ones, pictured near tractors, to compensate for something, do...

I, truly, regardless of the murdered life's age, I celebrate, and if there is force involved? I mean, all they know is what I said in public, imagine what I do privately.

Honestly; I, we, are all for, and from that constitution of peace, and love... no, wait... ah, never mind, I shall go on... vote for me, and murder I shall toast!

Uh, what? I am what? Oh, I seem to have revealed my authentic physicality, by mistake; now, that is something I regret; I will certainly never cease cheering on murder!

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DragonBrute:

A collective, am I... no, not the entirety of a landmass, although brainwashing everyone could be an interesting goal... I am, merely, the grouping of certain sections...

After all, it is always how it was done, no? This, though, slightly different, for we strive to impose ourselves upon others... even those who do not align with us, yes.

The how, though, is curious, for we attempt to use... not exactly a temporal call, if you know what I mean; after all, if invisible, magical beings are on one's side.

Where can that ever go wrong, no? How can those who do not even believe in such ethereal beings dare to call us out...? Oh, and... our specialty? A spicy dish...

Unmitigated by hate... I mean, not too spicy, you know, otherwise we might not fulfil all our aims, but sure... oh, and if someone acts on what we preach? Why...

Deny we have any connection with them, of course... oh, but, if they are actually a member? Call it a 'lapse', I am sure that is not worse than celebrating murder...

Why am I as such? Why, you do know that greed, the trait of all dragons, is also inherent within a certain simian species? Well, there you go, what we do is instinct...

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Parazite:

Does one... not need to... so much, to... so terribly one needs to die? It is all life is for, for some, which is ironic... often, though, there is death in life...

In a sense, then, it is beckoning... everything merely a reminder... graves within lives, smell of death, even if one is not entirely sure what the source is...

Some just seem to need to die... a variety of circumstances come into the way, though, do they not? Whether contextual, environmental... subjective doubts, fears...

One can only take it so far before the fears are overwhelmed, before the impenetrable darkness envelops oneself into an infinite nothingness; might have been a strand...

Once... a string that connects to life... and, one might have thought that it was time that ripped it apart, and time is certainly a factor, but... it was not, was it?

The cause now, though, is death itself... a remedy, as it happens, and the bosom to which the destroyer was swallowed whole; not in any cathartic sense, no, it unravels.

It is odd, though, one has got to admit, when one is curious about processes such as trogocytosis, or why one is alive when so many others randomly die, generally... no?

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Drackmahre:

I... am that of which you will never be... well, one supposes, not unless reincarnation is possible, and one happens to become this random amalgam, or such...

A hybrid of both the sky and the sea, but never mind that, not when one desires but death... no? Still, how? It is curious, for winged creatures... gravity affects us...

Little... so, in that sense, that which can result in death with gravity's utilization is... not quite ideal for us... of course, humans being the absolute psychopaths...

One barely even needs to wish for death, in the sky, sea, or land... perhaps, those in the bottomless abyss might be safe, for now... is it not so curious? So hypocritic.

They kill with aplomb, nary a second thought, or an atom of empathy... and, yet, when it comes to individuals of their kind, they would rather they suffer, eternally...

If possible, of course... I mean, it is not, as if, they do not kill each other, but for some reason, even if someone desires it... even after an eternity of torment...

See, even the worldly skies are not safe; certainly not from the shrieking cries of the insufferable, and lives somehow need to continue, even after the incomprehensible.

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CarCrash:

Ah, such a crash, a disaster? After that octad; if only it took, separated, crushed, physicality from vitality... shook it did, sure; but, then hushed; fantasy, pure...

It did initiate; alas, what it also did is animate, a useless hope; less than a score later, in total, and the answer seemed to be a rope, albeit anecdotal, to finish...

Art, not to diminish; but, at times, with lives, one seems to need to part, as a lack of luck makes them worth dimes... still, fear remains, and unless brought to...

The brink... a problem, will, not quite clinical, but it is all one can do, at times, think... pinnacle? Ironically, a tiny bit of luck, which is just randomness, but...

One is merely, now... stuck, to the vow of existential impossibility... for life, often, is a matter of sardonic risibility; tryptophan, dysregulated, must be, and a...

Coffin seems somewhat cozy, despite the lack of sensation, at that point... a future that is ever rosy? A delusional mentation... not available, such a joint; unscalable.

The past could have, certainly, not made it last; instead, the future was to behead; scornfully, one attempted it, but, ah, life is just not in one's remit; such a flaw.

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Creature G:

This... sticky existence... whatever does one do about it? Particularly when... all else being equal, certain affairs do not seem to go overboard... as in... well...

Endogenous states are kind of interesting, are they not? As in, they are, generally, stable, unless their state is instability, and so... if certain attributes only...

Rise, or decrease, steadily... it appears a problem is potential... one could, basically, not even realize something, because it has always been so subtle... and...

I suppose... it might also prevent one traversing the path of no return... as certain attributes are not, usually, so unstably one way, or another... and, this is how...

I ended up here... not quite my 'natural' habitat, in this concrete jungle, but it somehow happened to transpire... a fish out of water, I must seem, and do feel, but...

Technically, there is worse, I suppose, no? This kraken wandered to where I was, once; needed some maneuvering on my part, then that is where this place comes in...

Not sure, to be honest, why I ended up over-analyzing everything, but, I guess, some might indulge in this to understand certain affairs... kind of what Boethius did...

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Skinny mutant:

Whatever does one do when disturbed...? I presume it depends on... subjective defaults, or such... nothing really resolves it fundamentally, though, does it?

Whatever else can one do then, ultimately, try not to care, if not an immediate threat? Try not to react to visual stimuli? Attempt to remain stoic, as defined modernly?

I suppose, on seeing me you might feel repulsed... and that is nothing in comparison to some other affairs... even mere numbers can be horrifying; certain statistics...

Specifically... not the world record-types, to be clear... now... written numbers might not make one as viscerally liable to react as immediate, visual stimuli...

After processing the information, though... imagination utilized, and... of course, if one was not a complete psychopath... might still be needed to compile such stats...

Quite a longer process, but... might end up worse for the 'soul' than any optical disgust... might even go beyond the visceral, since cognition is also used... still...

Whatever, nevertheless, could one ever do, regardless of the immediacy of the impression...? When it is futile, no matter what, seemingly, and one can only fume, depress?

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SKIllusion:

I... might seem monstrous, and, I suppose, for my externality to be perceived as such is, almost, reasonable... as much as it is for blood to be recoiled from, at least.

The opposite for most flowers... genetics, though, are the real, fundamental monstrosity, that just has a terrifying sort of permanence to it, with the exception of...

Epigenetics, but that is an almost superficial layer... as how the start to life is set up; roll of dice, really... it can be pernicious, and, as it keeps dragging on...

I can, often, barely handle the existential conundrum of it all... I try to block out the implications, at least from my conscious mind, through loud music, to try to...

Scatter all the nightmares in the background, lying in wait... at this point, though, even if temporarily forgetting some bits of it seems possible, resolving any...

Intrinsic issues would be, kind of, like moving a mountain... many things seem set in stone in this wretched existence, as dynamic as it may seem, this malevolence...

I am so... sick, in some ways, of the very act of existing, of living, and yet... only reason, really, not knowing what the nothingness the alternative contains, is like.

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BlindDemon:

Nameless, am I... without sight of the world, for the world has no sight of me, apart from... I guess, the froth above; from the abode of the cloudy, blue water I come...

Still alive, am I... I think... unlike one of my siblings, who was murdered, supposedly by someone other than him... one who devastates my life, which is why I...

Occasionally.. envy my sibling, gone when consciousness had probably not fully set in... a bit later on, in my life, is when the world found out about what he did...

Only because he was already well-known, I suppose... not that it made any difference to me; oh, the truly demonic hypocrites did pretend to care, very nominally...

Until, of course, the lure of money was too much, and, suddenly, he could join so many others... a national hobby... no, theoretically not the torture of the defenceless.

Wait, torture is not even the word they would ever use, why would they... strongest, biggest, against the smallest, weakest, is what humans eat popcorn to... and... I...?

Do I even have a future? If I do... what? The same people who relished the torture will blame me for what I inevitably was transformed into, I presume; vilest creatures.

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Zombie F:

Ah, all the money in the world, have I, that others of my own species throw at me just to see my athletic... uh, not exactly my side hobby, no, they pay me for a sport...

I mean, I suppose, killing defenceless creatures can be a sport too, no? I have not, even, reached that point with... one my agent spins PR about, yes. I, though...

Reign supreme, nationally, such a valuable player, and all, named after the word for 'sea', for my violence is boundless, just as the sea might seem to be...

As is society's generosity in letting me inflict it upon the defenceless... son of a rock, like the physicality that rains down upon he who is, hilariously, so much...

Smaller than I am, inevitably, considering I am celebrated as such an entertainer... until, I suppose, I might make a 'mistake', go too far, and he ends up dead...

Just like his... but never mind, I merely enjoy the pain inflicted, as, after all, I originated as a pirate from the north, who pillaged, ravished; societies are fine...

I mean, even if I happen to entirely annihilate him... I bet they would acquit me, having entertained them for so long, in this sick, demented world of psychopathy...

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Statue L:

It is what I represent now, more than anything, for lives to plough; hatred, but not merely, being the mainspring... for, to us, pain is sacred, our existence's plane...

From ancient times, to the present, and the future, it is nigh in life's enzymes, and with tools to augment? Why, a smoocher could hardly try more fervently, our gods'...

Worshippers less observantly; why, even Caligula, whose habits might have been apocryphal, barely lived as long as some do, to inflict upon the habenula... pain...

Proximal, though, is reward, for the mighty, or those whose time has merely eclipsed others'; a scoreboard throughout aeons, that societies mostly accept, that smothers.

It is fine, though, the psychopaths claim, for life is as bitter as brine, and who cares if the weakest are to maim? Certainly not 'justice'; only luck did Augustus have.

Ultimately, all end up dead, but... whether they, along the way, had bled... whether they had been merely prey... whatever can one do? When can one live? Maybe... never.

Just why does all of life not merely go extinct? If only... if it was collectively hoodwinked; then, there would be no one who is lonely, nor this metaphorical pen...

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Creature H:

The dreary... might be the past, some think, and the future, for those who can afford the optimism, bright... yet not at all garish, supposedly. I suppose, if it was...

Too bright... it might burn up, as if perching atop the sun, but no... just sufficiently bright for most people, and, I suppose, that might be true for them, even if...

It might be a placebo effect... or has nothing actually to do with anything they, personally, did, and merely held aloft on top of 'giants'... who are, really, not such.

I mean, if person A helps person B who helps person C... A and B are not 'giants'... anyway, just an idiom that baffles me slightly, being an insectoid, usually tiny...

Point is... it is all screwed, regardless of whatever random impressions some random lives might have... also, they seem to go an awful way to be oblivious of...

Selective bias, which is, of course, at play here, besides subjectivity, and such; it is all so random, really, not sure how many realize the huge extent, intended or...

Whether one is an inanimate object, a river, or a conscious life... whether one is an insect, bird, reptile; all so random, and the process is, intrinsically, disgusting.

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SKMonster:

Ah, have you come to... worship him, have you? To have grown so vast is not a mere coincidence, do you not reckon? Is it not proof that he is almighty? Truly, a god, no?

Huh, you seem doubtful... why? You reckon with my many eyes I cannot see more? You reckon that if someone were to wrest my skin off me it would not feel so raw with pain?

Pain that he uses, feeds on, to become the ever-lasting potential that he was formed to be... is that not how it, generally, happens? A larger creature destroys...

A smaller creature... now, yes, unless the latter is entirely annihilated, they might grow large themselves, and... still remain broken, I see, of course... it, still...

Does not, quite, negate cause and effect, though, does it? Just because it is some 'vital insanity'... and, you might think that inorganic affairs do not function...

Similarly, but they kind of do; a meteor might crash into a planet, which might be bigger, or smaller... uh, I see, perhaps it is random, after all... curious difference.

So, I wonder, do I... only have malice in mind just because I am conscious? I calculate my options, and based on my surroundings I choose that which is most likely weak?

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Statue M:

Smile I do, for eventually, to change your mind, wile I would use, for... unless one is blind, I would argue that it is more effective to utilize nous, rather than...

Outright force... which many still resort to... or one's bourse... so, you see, there is almost a queue, a list from which one's subject of hatred can be reduced to plea.

It is why most adults smile, do you not know? For prospect of the torture dial up... I mean, to be clear, not everyone is so blatantly vile... some might just want to...

Sear... another's more innocent smile, because, do you not know? It is 'civilization'... and pain is the only thing that makes 'him' grow; psychopathy's fixation...

Is it not a curious affair, a 'civilized' society? Almost like a prayer, for one's sobriety, where up is down, where it is, somehow, justified for a pup to drown...

Where those who were, merely, lucky are, for some reason, 'highbrow'... when everyone just speaks insincerely, for pathologies of all kind are, verily, in season!

It is, though, I admit, so exhausting, to dust off all this, at best, sociopathic frosting... forever more one may be stressed, but whatever can be done, unless, a gun...

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Alien F:

Yes, yes... I might appear as some might think someone from outer space appears like, but... well, is it necessarily in the outer perimeter? What if... and, really...

Not sure why else I suggest this, but... what if we are, in reality, one's internals? As in, the manifestation of the subconsciousness itself, or such... makes sense, no?

Why else would some have these 'liminal' experiences? Generally, those derive from below the conscious realm... and, yes, anyway, that happens to be where I reside...

Now, of course, everyone occupies the space of a different kind of life, so every subconscious habitation is quite distinct... some are, contextually, mundane... while...

Others... are kind of connected to 'him', if you know what I mean... it is, as if, their whole being is dedicated to providing energy to 'him', by being, kind of, like...

Microscopic - in comparison - malevolent units, that in turn feed all that energy and wasted potential to 'him'... a yin & yang sort of thing... I study it...

Strange thing is, as powerful as 'he' is, now at least - once was not - compel anyone 'he' does not; I think, voluntarily, maybe; says the psychopathic energy is purer...

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CorruptedKnight:

I... once I thought I would... go somewhere... not sure where, to be honest... seems so obscure, opaque now... somewhere, though, I thought... until I ended up here...

Here is still somewhere, I suppose, but I doubt it is where I wanted to be... it never is, presumably... most, or, some of the time, possibly; some situations, though...

I think I wanted to... reach someone, somewhere, the latter not necessarily being a physical place... a time, perhaps, but who am I fooling? Time machines do not exist...

Not in this reality, at least, and even if I were to go back in time would that just not create different timelines? It is not, as if, one could overwrite another...

How curious it would be, if it could... just like a computer file, overwritten, or deleted, but then... even if that could be so... physical effects would, still, not...

As if by magic disappear, would they? Whole brain structures would suddenly alter; how could that ever be received consciously, subjectively? Would it be viable? A shock?

Apologies for rambling on, I suppose it might be one effect of one's cloudy mind, you see... I, just, feel so... malfunctional... as if it could never be fixed too...

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AlienScout:

I... am here to... infiltrate, subjugate, annihilate... all I ever wanted to do, ever since, yet cannot... why? All those ventures... all for nought? Cannot be possible?

How one not be revived, to be annihilated once more...? Would that not be the ultimate torture...? Ah, if one could, indeed, do that to the most deserving... is that...

Not why necromancy was ever attempted throughout history? Alchemy? Why else would one sacrifice one's limbs... entire physicality, really, just to revive... someone...

One loved...? Surely, if indeed such an affair was possible... impetus would be borne out of hatred, not such a petty, and rare thing as love...? Hatred for those who...

Escaped the full weight of damnation in life... I might be demonic, but, still, a belief in a hellish afterlife I do not hold... I think it is fairly obvious that...

If anything... it is all in the physical, extant realm... all states, mostly psychological, but obviously induced through raw nightmares, or... much more rarely, bliss...

I so loathe being in this... nonsensical limbo, or whatever it is... a queue awaiting destruction? If so... why would I not fulfil my demonic potential and take them too?

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Demon G:

I... one named after the addition of god himself, which, I suppose, is ironic, considering myself... addition of a blade... which plunges, again, and again, and again...

Into that hexad, who I, as a hellish, septuagenarian spawn, blames for a remote conflict older than even I! Yes, I, quarreling with hair on top of my head, needed an...

Outlet, for this blade of mine, dripping with the fresh blood of the young, as in my addled, ancient brain one can, only, do this now, to ascertain my place alongside...

That heavenly adversary... I, of course, needed to send him, from concrete, to the lake... of everlasting fire... even now, confined as I am to my own psyche, I know...

I was correct... after all, Moloch needs his fill, just like I needed my neverending stream of hate... oh, that is one thing I miss, being so constricted, now...

I may burn for all eternity, some think... I... just... wish I could have feasted upon his flesh, if I could... so empowered I felt, to have murdered that tot, viciously.

Why is it the killing of... supposed innocents... is only acceptable in wars now? They even give them the tools, and I am supposed not to have used mine to dig his heart?

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CatStatue:

I, a most ancient cat... once, you see, had a spat... with this one snake, you know; darkness, disorder, they would bake, and that would just not flow... am I, though...

Really their foe? So many, after all, claim to be the light, plenty, but it is, verily, so close to the night... wearily, then, do I, these days, claim it is so...

Delineated, with a certain phrase... as, for the uninitiated... it is never, quite... even cats, with all their elegance, kill with might... in the stats, it is...

The smallest is, somehow, the most ferocious... as if murder results in a meow... is it, though, as atrocious as other kinds? When it is fuelled by hateful vines...

Cats play with their bait... which is, one supposes, also what a human serial killer imposes... still, at least we are furry, and cute, no? Which shares the thrill...

I mean, ultimately, it is not like we can elucidate upon our reasons, like some anthropoid brute, and our fluffiness is in all seasons... so, I declare it moot...

Why, though, do you reckon, us they nigh worship? Maybe, Toxoplasma gondii is already in their syrup? Ah, many of them act impulsively by nature, anyway; weird, major...

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OrcsShooter:

I came here to... nail those... simian psychopaths, but... it turned out there are just not many of them here, and even the few that are here are seemingly untouchable...

I wonder why... when everyone is, usually, so vulnerable, in their usual mortal realm... why are they seemingly protected, here? Oh... everyone is? Still, why? Some...

Sort of altered physics, perhaps? Does it not function the same everywhere? No, I suppose not.. near black holes it certainly does not, due to the singularity of gravity.

What difference does rationalizing any of this make, though? Does knowing one's limit make one able to play the game of... physicality, better? That does not merely...

Apply to virtualities, does it? I mean, why else is, sometimes, knowledge relegated to one's subconsciousness? I suppose, the difference between suffering for a...

Little bit, or longer... ah, where was I, again? Am I trapped in this limbo, now? I do not, quite, know yet... I suppose, knowing might help, or not... contextually...

I believe, yes... one's reputation might precede myself, a bit... sometimes, you see, they have glimpses of me, and they certainly do not expect a bipedal goat, baat...

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BlackDragon:

Is it not... a slight bit funny, that which afflicts you? I suppose, one can pretend it does not affect oneself, and, perhaps, it does not, at times, under the correct...

Mixture of circumstances, and, perhaps, neurochemistry, but... why? That is the one question one keeps asking, no? Why, as an almighty dragon, such as myself, although...

This can certainly affect a variety of species... why, though, is there such a subjectivity as 'loneliness', when one rationally knows how, at a basic level, awful...

Everyone else can be? I suppose, sure, there might be exceptions, but how is it that, without a certain element... one seems unable to delight oneself in art, as once...

There are as many variables as there are different kinds of dragons, to be sure, but ultimately... something seems missing, and... one either fills the void, or...

The void will envelop oneself... it is it, though, fantasy, that still acts as an anchor, does it not? To what is ideally possible... what will always remain, if only...

In the end... I can only gaze upon this abyss we inhabit... with a stare that longs for all kinds of potentialities, even though I am not, at all, optimistic... still...

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HeroBoy:

I do... venture, beyond... any horizon, any possibilities... I go where no living being has gone before... I will inhabit places where I have never been, ever, curiously!

I... wait, something seems off... I seem to be... atop some ledge, and... something seems to stare, towards here, as if it desires to devour all of this, myself included.

Does it...? Who, or what is that supposed to be? I am confused... I was so eager, so passionate about... living? Why... am I saying that? I... am still alive, no?

Something is odd... as enthusiastic as I am, was... I seem to feel, as if, something horrific happened, not long ago... as if I am connected to that gazing creature in...

Some way, but only afterwards... as if... someone did something, due to some terribly heightened emotions... linked to something that I had nothing to do with... uh...

I do not think I knew that, before at least... suddenly, though, I am getting glimpses, beyond my... what used to be, boundless optimism... now, I am not sure about much.

Am I, even... I have... very evanescent glimpses of... so many times, it happened... again, again, again, before I ended up here... so pointed, it was... so... painful...

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Dino B:

Tasked with... guarding the vast one, I was, by existence itself... for, you see, if someone were to attempt to destroy 'him', then... where would life, specifically, be?

Life, you see, has always depended on brutality... it has always, unfortunately for some, been the fundament of all vitality... as optimistic as that concept sounds...

Its very foundation is, yes... psychopathy, although there are several layers, to be fair, some more natural than others... some more inevitable, as in...

Preys, and predators, in a jungle, for instance... it could be said to be the origin of psychopathy... out of, almost, natural necessity, to sustain one's life...

Of course, it evolved way beyond that... for some species it has become nigh a sport... now, as unfortunate as it may be for those who are preyed on as some game...

The vast one still receives all kinds of energy, regardless of its origin, for it is, almost, natural clockwork, at this point... a certain climax in evolution...

While... some... may want all of life to become extinct, it did make sure to embed a certain perversity that incentivizes those alive to procreate, regardless of pain...

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Statue N:

This... might be but a limbo... and I do, apparently, represent liberty, although... murky is the lingo, and I might just have bitter tea... for, you see, I am woe...

Even within snow... is imperfection, pretty much a constant, so what can one do with delusional ideals? Rejection... I suppose, within fantasy it is acceptable, but...

Realistic seals? Injustice would be perceptible. The difference between what one aspires to, and the status quo one knew... needs to be delineated...

If, that is... collectives aspire for individuals not to be aggravated, but... nah, propaganda has a certain fizz, brainwashing a certain cut, but the ice needs to thaw.

One might aspire to an ideal, but what if... reality ends up being on the menu, as a meal? Then... ideal it is not, a likely oppressive venue, but some do plot...

Still, to... imagine, dream... is brill, if pure intentions is all that it contains, the stream; still, inevitable they may be, those miserable planes, a depressed tree.

Over time, though... no, history has proved that ideals are but grime; intentions are often faux... and what is in Niflheim? Subconsciousness, marred, below...

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Claws of evil:

Anyone who approaches, who dares, or bothers, for some reason... will have no future, either due to their excessive curiosity, or the randomness of existence...

Why, though, truly, would one want that...? I suppose, sure, if existence's deterministic nature makes one end up there, but... why? Why would you want to go where...

All of the universe's concentration of psychopathic malevolence resides... and look it in the eye? Am I, by myself, not terrifying enough...? Do you really need to...

Gaze upon a neverending abyss? You do know what can happen once that is done, yes? Something, perhaps, worse than even death, for as horrific as nothingness can be...

Imagined to be... visualize, if you must, bleeding eternally, while seemingly alive, as I do... for all of time... and, what is worse is that, well, all the other...

Ghastly, non-bleeding creatures seem to think we are perfectly in the same boat... one can barely even remember what a toothache is like after it disappears, let alone...

Now, that would be a thought experiment, to imagine everyone knowing what everyone else's mental state is like... I am guessing they would still ignore such knowledge...

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Coralju:

The phantasm of a future's past, am I... where I, solely due to the fact I am ancient... not quite a relic, but still... I mean, one cannot say there has not been worse.

More dystopic versions of myself, per se, so... in that sense, I am, still... contextually mild... still, I will decide lives... I will decide futures, and those lives...

No choice, will they have... after all, nature never intended for free will to really be extant... just as you might want to witness the amalgamation of psychopathy...

You did, did you not, encounter the symbol of determinism? A feeling, one might say, a cognition, but... oh, was there not more to it? Did it not imply... 'tis but an...

Illusion? It has always been, you know now... never can one determine anything whatsoever... perhaps, the way you are annihilated, if indeed you could summon the...

Courage you always seemed to lack... who knows, though? The end might, yet again, be determined by others, just as one's life has been; a dire, sordid, useless reactor...

Determine lives I shall, for, at least, I was lucky enough to have had not sufficient prior psychopathy in my proximity that determined mine, but I will still be a judge.

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Alien G:

This might be unexpected of someone who... looks like me, I suppose, but... I watch television... even while so close to the vast one, yes, one needs to pass time, still.

So, anyway, this device I have is a bit dodgy, and switches off at seemingly random times... although, usually when something changes rapidly, I gather, but, even then...

It does not happen often, so, I guess, mostly randomness... and, well, today it happened to do so while the other devices that could switch it back on were themselves...

Unable to be switched on, due to battery problems, both of them... and, well... it seems to be life, often, does it not? Especially one's origin. Randomness, which is...

Quite the constant... and, then, due to a medley of reasons, afterwards, it can either be functional, even if it was not due to genetic reasons, and such, or... not...

Even if one is, otherwise, as healthy as I seem... slimy, I suppose... which is the norm in my case, to be clear... oh, extra batteries happened to be available, for me.

The more existentially pertinent question, though, is... should one, at times, just give up on ever switching anything back on...? The path of least resistance?

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CreatureSlug:

Am I, yes, the... parasites within you, compelling you to write endlessly, yes... am I not beautiful? The parasites of the external, objective world, verily... when...

One can do nothing except feed on a source of misery, that is due to me... just as feline parasites compel one to act impulsively, mostly for mice to be unafraid of...

Approaching cats, to be able to parasitize more of them... and yet, somehow, act in some sort of symbiotic way... I, too, compel others to... use language, despite the...

Dislike of some of it... write, regardless of who reads... listening to it being spoken, reading it, was never enough... nor are directed responses... no, there is...

Something to writing to the... void... similar to the echoes one receives from some abyss, but this is different, for they are... silent reverberations... mirrors...

It might be confusing to think of the concept of a soundless scream, but what else sails through the hopeless ages? What else fills the emptiness all around...? The void.

Honestly... I am not sure how this benefits me, generally... some, though, seem to have certain functions, regardless of... well, some annihilate themselves, too...

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Deimos:

The funny thing, you know what it is? Many seem to think that there is no beauty in war, and yet... I am the result of both of those, I am the... everlasting fear...

Just before one gives up... entirely, I am... while one might still be enraged... one's vitality, at that point, would have been utterly depleted... now, you might...

Have not ever, truly, experienced the feeling I imbue, if you are still here, technically; how many, though, do you reckon did? I suppose, some are lost to the...

Mists of time with barely any awareness from themselves... say, at sleep... what if, though, a dagger, sword, or knife, plunges through their heart... over, and over...

Do you reckon, at that point, they would despair? Give up hope, perhaps? Maybe, even, be glad that they are almost sure to leave this sordid world... still, I admit...

Not the best... exit strategy; although, I suppose, it would not, technically, be the latter, surely... I am, at any rate, the embodiment of that last, hopeless gasp...

Not that I wanted to be, to clarify... I am, after all, just like you all, despite my 'divine' status... randomly materialized into this chaotic existence...

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Statue O:

A feline, am I... from the past, do I come, to refine... present, too, and I know no one asked, but yes... I connect all times, and all lives do I bless... always what...

My kind had done, and I know our ego in all sorts of ways is spun, but... still, you can never, quite, verify, so... chill... otherwise, your life might be a blight...

I know my intentions I might here disguise... we still coexist, though, no? Better to merely subsist... and, whoa, even fictionally, we were in; connected, we were, to...

Time... infinitely, a lynx who resorted to crime, because... fate winks... nothing to do with the smaller creatures, to be fair, those whose features... allow them to...

Randomly awaken, say, as if their tiny statures were mistaken, because they always need to... seize the day... reckon, though, do you, that living alongside they rue...?

After all, from any point of view, they seem unaffected, and... only to strings, in thrall. It is not, as if, they would not, otherwise, have flings, greeting a sunrise.

One tries, at times, as if to extract that enthusiasm, in vain... alas, darkened remain the skies, the hues plain... why, though, so joyful, this fluffy mass? A Zen show?

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Boar:

You... look like I saw you before... wonder where. I spent quite some time, you see, really uncomfortable in this... I believe it was a bag of some sort, as hard as it...

May be to believe... although, to be fair, it connected to another dimension, so I was not that cramped... I do not, personally, know why anyone was bothered that...

I happened to change some room's decor, shall we say... a bit of the weather, too, but then, if one can do that... why not? It was always a somewhat cloudy, moonlit...

Night, here, and I would change it, if I wanted to... after all that, though, I feel like the depressed quality of a permanently dark world is my preference... is it...

Yours? Perhaps, you spent that time all cheerfully, and whatnot? It is possible, no? No? Sure... I am guessing it is only for those into placebo effects, at best...

Although, well, such an impression is not, I assume, held in a vacuum. After a while of the same negativity one just remains in the doldrums... not likely to change...

At times... I wonder if that huge thing is, perhaps, someone could, theoretically, defeat, or just some cosmic invincibility that happened to reside there...

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SkeletonSoldier:

Aye, dare you to go near him, and... ah, who am I kidding... I mean, you do whatever you want to do, which is what I did, and... well, I ended up transformed into this...

Not sure why I ever bothered to seek the cosmic psychopathy out, personally... as if the world does not have enough of that, individually, although, perhaps...

Not enough in my life, somehow? I adventured out into the wilderness... I was not even a skeleton, once... and, now... I do not know, exactly, what happened... perhaps...

I saw too much? Still, I only saw... mostly, not personally experienced the worst, so why did I so radically change? Could reading about the worst also do that?

Even if the very act is so detached from the experience itself? How, I do not get it... or, could it be the proximity to such a concentrated amount of psychopathy...

Maybe because I had so little exposure to it, before? Perhaps, it functions a bit like biological immunity? What in the world is this now, though... a living skeleton...?

Honestly, I try to be jovial, jocular, like a certain other skeleton whose world is infused with dark comedy, but... often, I am unable to... as not much is comic...

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TreeGuardian:

Arrived here, I did, as nature's representative of... uh, I keep forgetting... am I really supposed to represent anyone, or anything? Uh, perhaps, forgetfulness...?

For, you see, the more I approached, the more I seemed to forget... until, somehow, I became oblivious about what I happened to be even here for... although, I keep...

Wondering if... uh, I assume my hippocampus is affected, somehow, but... could it be as terrible as some might think it would be...? To... forget... some thought...

It was hell? Why? Perhaps, their prior life was so much more... worth remembering... what if all one could remember was the past, though? For those who do not reckon...

That forgetting is hellish... remembering only the past, with present experiences being impossible to transfer to long-term memory... I reckon that, truly, could be...

The absolute worst... unless, of course, all one had was happiness, in which case... ideally, I think, memories would be modular... if only such technologies existed...

Could it be, perhaps, that that concentration of psychopathy creates some form of singularity that distorts reality around it, including others' neurobiology...?

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StatueMonk:

Manipulate destinies, do I, as if lives are but test dummies, and whether they cry, in their most miserable moments, I have my monies, and as long as this is the...

System... it will have its proponents, regardless of its overall wisdom. In the shadows I reside, Kyrie, and by the tenets of selfishness do I abide... and, whether...

They have a date of expiry... cares, no one does... a quality so inherent, beyond economics, a buzz... roll the dice, for what matters what kind of spice of misery is...

An inevitability... systems care not for future hostility, nor black holes; some desire this, others merely indifferent, even if damned are souls... and even if...

One was merely ignorant... shoals of collectives will devour, from the inside out, as is in their power, until happiness is but a drought, and life so damn sour... who...

Cares, though, right? As long as we were lucky, who cares for someone else's plight, and until their death, all will be a terrible night, for it is but our shibboleth...

Give up, one should... for what use is to flail, when it is hopeless, where one stood; turn to nothing, one will, soulless; our meddling, your bill... religious peddling.

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CthuMeca:

Combine, do I... nature's random, chaotic mess, with... raw brutality, that likely Darwin originally witnessed as being a seemingly automatic path in evolution...

Particularly, though, the evolved nature of those who both manufactured half of me, and fictionalized the other part... in tandem, mutually, I destroy all and one...

Regardless of... relation, I annihilate, obliterate... future, past, one and all... no mercy, just deception, up until the end... half of me, though, no...

Deception would not even be needed, partially, personalities and all... all that would be needed is force, just as every quality in nature propels itself so... a line...

Upright, a sword... nature that destroys... why, collaboration is merely future rewards, one's present devastation is dopamine, now... life, the most perverse evolution.

In the future, though, just before the end, know that there was, and is, nothing at all... accept it, relish it, for my brutality is undead, and death is the broom...

Why do some find it so difficult to realize that the sun will never stop scorching them for all eternity, and beyond...? Even within cessation that is, only, theoretical.

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Troll:

Why is it there is always someone who is taller...? Well, no matter, that creature seems lanky, at any rate, so I can surely, if I tried... who am I kidding...

I have no self-doubt, only vaguely wondering, for when one started long before, well, it is not a matter of height, is it? Mere psychology, it always is; in diplomacy...

Slightly more complex... in inter-personal relations, though? Unless one is a hermit, of course, in which case... cats are far too small to compare, and far cuter too...

Destroy the mind, verily, and all follows, then, a lifetime of torture, microcosms of all that ever happened, even beyond the existential ashes of damnation...

Annihilate as nature intended, as society allows, for why else would life have come into being if not for an eternity of pain...? The only question is... beyond...

Death, too? Unlikely; but, of course, unless all are dead... unless all life is, in totality, all at once, entirely, immediately... if only, only then... will it cease...

Does one not notice how the most probably accurate way, projectiles, are such an inexorable inevitability? From the start, to the end; sunrise, sunset; holy nothingness.

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CreatureInsect:

Quite something, to... not even remotely compare to those around oneself, despite one's fearsome appearance... I swear... I mean, I do look terrifying, do I not...?

It is all... contextual... just to use a different word... I mean, if I go elsewhere I likely could be sandwiched in between similarly-sized monstrosities, and with...

My looks... I would likely be the most horrific... and, do not mistake me, it is only that concept, formed within that pesky adjective, that fools me... it always does...

Curious how it happens... one might think it a comedic moment, and sure... unless one of these two succeed in ripping me apart, suddenly, or such; not so funny anymore...

Then, would it? Well, unless one just does not care about the one ripped apart, and there are certainly many who care not for such ugly creatures as myself... it is...

Why I usually reside at the bottom of the ocean... now, if only some, still, would not bother me, but no, some take it up as a hobby... why not?

Oh, and if you are wondering if "anything ever happens", not sure if one realized how narratives are... quite central to... everything... until the end, quite...

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DemonStatue:

Dominum, all the universe cares about... no empathy, not even a modicum, regardless of how many sprout; not an iota would an unfeeling system have, as there is...

Certainly no cosmic quota... any adaptation of such, a mere accident, or... a result of that dreadful, collective evolution, the societal cult; when the process is...

Complete, when fully is the imbution, only then would they defeat... universe, though, only indifference, as are most of the minds... is there an inference? Perhaps...

Existence binds... and in a veil of misery wraps... when the illusion of free will, apparent? Obviously, it is solely aberrant; a nigh cosmic pseudo-scientific...

Experiment... notoriously. Why, how else could some find merriment? Psi, the external, but the domain of the demon; paternal, to be none; an eternity, in chron... who...

Though, cares, if taciturnity is the norm? Certainly not the heirs of the psychopath; one's life, vermiform, for death bringeth the polymath, an existential storm...

Die, one needs to, for to accept when it is hopeless, nigh, life has always been noteless, but, by default, delusions are high; ultimately, gestalt, conclusions...

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Werewolf E:

There is a Hyde inside of me; I have no idea how it was ever contained, considering the raw pressure exerted against the unnerving psychology... one whose inkling is...

Felt, once in a while, under a full moon, a lunatic unleashing read only, usually, in fiction, but... often reality is worse, for currency enables the summoning of...

Many inner Hydes... even I, honestly, do not understand some of them, but on a theoretical basis... imaginatively, one can... uh, that word, again...

Why do so many definitions have to come from a singular etymological root... I guess, though, some retain their Jekyll for a while longer... others... might not have...

Any such parallel, at all... and, seriously, sometimes I wonder who is saner... ironically, it was probably not Jekyll who contained it all, but... Morpheus... or...

In hindsight... Ate, perhaps, for hope is so utterly delusional, one and all, verily... perhaps, though, in another time and space, I can keep living as Lycaon...

Do you reckon, perhaps, the moon is connected to the... vast one? I mean, it could not be, could it? The moon is ever so beautiful, how could it ever, no...?

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Titan:

So... I am supposed to be some kind of Titan, and yet... look how much larger all these creatures are... it is, as if, our encounter with the Olympians, all over...

How dare they, right? We were the primordial ones, so, how could they ever surpass us...? I am guessing... it was due to their combining forces... we were too egoistic...

It was all due to Cronus, that sadistic, psychopathic... ugh, still loathe him... by the way, creature over there is affected by Mnemosyne, just saying... now, I know...

You did not ask, but from my observations, your... issue, I suppose, were the implications of Coeus, as all else would be equal if he was not around, despite being...

Mostly obscure to the outside world, and proximity... and, I realize Hyperion scorched you alive, sadly, at which point Theia seemed to have faded a bit, with Themis...

Never to be found... still, at least you feel something while gazing at Uranus up above, despite Gaia below being such an antagonist... mixed feelings on Pontus...

Nyx, and Erebus, though, fascinate you, no? Hemera, you avoid... Chaos, of course, is your core... while Chronos, your fear... why, though? While subconsciousness...

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Bug:

What if... one could re-run lives, just with different parameters? How likely is one to end up with the same outcome, say, if there were hundreds of test runs? If...

Certain variables, at the beginning, especially, were altered... are lives likely to end up in the same place? It seems to me, even as an alien from outer space...

Unlikely... for, despite biology pretending to be so different from inorganic matter, well... it is not very distinct from any of those games played with a cue, where...

The initial cue play sends balls in all sorts of directions, then... from all those different places, they are further... 'cued in'... and, while some are closer or...

Further away from the pockets... it is always a possibility that an errant ball knocks another completely off the table... of course, in these games they are inorganic...

Theoretically without consciousness... elsewhere, theory of mind implies that actions have intention, or are borne out of indifference... results, though, are the same...

One thing many lives, throughout the universe, too, attempt to do is to... indifferent themselves, be... of course, when it is about one's own life... slightly difficult.

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RipperDog:

Guard this... location, do I... not so much a physical space, but psychological; although, of course, ultimately all is that, and both, or one more than the other...

What would I know, though, when, as a creature, I elicit fear mainly from my physical appearance? It is what most lives have evolved to do... unless, of course...

Deceive they want... or, rely on tools they do, whether weapons or society... whatever does it mean when, occasionally, one goes berserk? Psychological reservoirs...

Depleted? How is ire mixed in with the raw hopelessness that comes with knowing that one will be, almost certainly, departed from life, too? Why the randomness, though?

As an infernal canine, that is something I could not understand, random targets, as if... it is nature itself, with its absolute chaos, made into living, putrid flesh...

Destroying all, including themselves, but... why? Are there no innocents? Even those who barely started living? Could it, perchance, be mercy, since this world is horrid?

Envy, perhaps? Envious of the lives they likely will never have? Even then... what precedes does not follow... envy is not that powerful... anger could be, but randomly?

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Deinodonte:

So tired of this crux of misery called life, and that is besides... other aspects... still so, otherwise, but that kind of feeling, at the same time, does not, quite...

Overcome the fear of the unknown, of the chaotic void beyond, you know... otherwise, though, it's ever so repetitively sordid, and what is it with other creatures...

As if said existential angst is not enough, no, I guess what many seem wont to do is harass, or otherwise attack others, but, oh, no retaliation is ever to be expected...

As a deep-sea creature, myself... it sort of operates on the fear of the unknown, more than the other kind of nonsense... as, of course, underwater there is less light...

So, everything is kind of a surprise... and, if life ends up... ending... it does so randomly, at least, with nary a prior worry... as opposed to all the absolute...

Weird nonsense, up here... not sure why I ever came out from under the abyssal depths, to be honest... perhaps, fuzzy voids is more my thing... still, existing is tiring.

It is so, fundamentally, unfair that one is made to just... come into existence; even worse, though, is when an environmental structure is the equivalent of molten lava.

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DemonicHumanHeadStatue:

In hue, to dream in, everlasting, but... no, for one was assigned a demon, and for all of one's passions, existentially gasping for all those abstractions, is all...

One is destined for... constant, informal war... is all... and try one might, but again and again one will fall... Zeus was never neutral, one's life did he smite, as...

Life's raw quintessence is, but, brutal... now, one might think, "is enjoyment all?" Sure, it might be, but sets in, then, does senescence, and ever larger becomes...

Melancholy's den... I am, verily, Janus, eternally have been... for existence is but heinous, and yet bifurcated, for the illusion of positivity is, at times, visible...

As if consecrated, hope that is so... risible... used for survival, and yet what is the scope? When one merely heralds existential impossibility's arrival? How...

Utterly sordid, this duality; nature and nurture, cordially corded, natality's deep-seated torture... ideally, one were to never exist, for awful it is, to persist...

What use is beauty, to cover up the horrors? If one never encountered any, what then? Evasion of errors? It is, indeed, mostly, in places splendid, where gore is blended.

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Ogre B:

I am that... sliver of hope you, at times, encounter... no, not that, exactly... well, it might be a slice of some sort... a slice of life, that for a second makes you...

Think... only that, although I am sure that imagination is utilized too... just for a second, or few, you... end up thinking that you might be living another life, no...?

So many do that... a form of dissociation, even if subconscious, just pretending that one reads, or watches, something while one's background is, as if, an...

Ever-revolving variable... guess what, then? Once one realized, whether consciously, or not, about actual reality... returns, it does, myself a symbol of it, to...

Haunt you ever-lastingly... I mean, still, at least that is a little bit of time spent outside of my ogrish presence, no? As little as it is... still, in that time the...

Early universe expanded, all the elements cast, physicality, your hated form, created... and, while your own life will never expand, still... universe could do so much...

Do not worry, though, if all else fails... always a dumpster where you can rot, lovingly, always a gutter from which you can gaze up, hopelessly... some lives are that...

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Ghoul C:

Kill thyself, one must, yes, for when there is no hope... oh, I suppose one can always keep living without such a thing, in a sense... realistically, in misery...

One can be mired in... if one's fear is greater than one's melancholy, I suppose, or... over the edge one has not yet, fully at least, been pushed... one must so wish...

It were so, no? All those who seem so sensible, empathic even, with their own relations, and then hesitate not to kill that which the collectives deem acceptable to kill.

Of course, you have noticed the spectrum of all this... shifts, too, ever so slightly, from one shadow to another... from a societally norm of a drama, to abject horror.

Whatever can one do now, though, except... rot, forever more? The natural chaos from beyond, combined with artificial standards, randomly assigned in time, destroyed you.

Rot... is all one can do, and one shall, as has been found out, for... so long, now... rot, like spoiled bread, for one's life can be ruined, like random flailing in...

The wind... can be ever so soothing, no? Blowing there, swaying random things. Just before you take your last breath, as prescribed by demonic collectives, verily...

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DeepOne:

Look strange, I might, but only to fool you into letting your guard down, until I could... snatch your vitality away from you, bit by bit, steal it from under your grasp.

The ink that drips from above your ground, am I, from fungi do I derive... spawn, do I, from spores, just so I could sneak in, without notice... sneak into your soul...

Etch it away, knife away at your brain, as if it is some plaything, force my way into it forevermore, quite... and, then, devour you alive, but only if you... give in...

If you... annihilate yourself entirely, for others would not, you know? Why, that would not satisfy them, after all, just as I can only be fully satisfied if one is...

Fully squashed, as if they never existed at all... why, inky caps made you think there is life within death, did they? Oh, no, that is just to deceive... and give you...

I suppose, the... capability to... express oneself, or, at least, symbolically, even if the void cares not from whence you came; at least, though, one can gaze at it.

Does no one ever wonder what we do so deep in that wet abyss? Why, we hatch strategies to pilfer those spirits who are just departing... many of them, many a tasty one...

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HeadlessStatue:

Can someone not spare a head? For, you see, I ended up with none, and, thereafter, dread. How is it one keeps living, though, would collectives shun? No matter...

How much writhing, too, in vain did the venom spew... scything all those lives, and for what? Strut on the world's stage? Brag to ghosts in that limbo's cage?

After all, what does it matter, if lives lag? If brains are hazy, and scatter? My head I lost, and so I wonder... which road might it have crossed? My mind in sunder...

Although, what map contains such a place? My sweet gateau, or a nightmare where demons race...? Ah, but one has now everlasting malware... a headless Nostradamus I am...

Not, but... future forecasting? Bleak. Blot on all your houses! Until life's raging inferno douses, though, gauging vitality will be a... problem. Push forward mortality.

If only, but no... not likely, not pronely; headless seem I to remain, tightly... survive how, do I not know, but... never mind, it is inane, for it is lined with a nut.

How ever do I sate this hunger, with no head? Why, I seem to be growing younger, yet quite mad... pie in the sky, but I have no mouth, and so I die... ah, such routhe...

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DemonExecutioner:

The symbol of the signature of arbitrary... 'justice', am I... ah, that purported, hypothetical concept, a lofty ideal that has nigh never been the way of any...

'Civilization'... might as well put apostrophes around every word, lately, with the amount of lies and hypocrisy these mortal demons possess... ah, no, I do not mean...

Myself... I might have horns, and they do look like apostrophes, but all I ever do is converse, along with most of my... 'colleagues', here... eh, that is mostly just...

Due to the fact I do not, quite, know our exact status... anyway, point is, I am that arbitrary implementation of... ah, 'law', that is fine with violence to some, but...

Not others... certainly not to the legislators themselves, of course, not unless it is by their own... 'colleagues'... even then it is 'extrajudicial', shall we say...

For, you know what is within 'flaw'? Why, it is 'law', which is not, exactly, as smooth as a 'flow', but, then, I am demonic, so it is to be expected, a nightmarish seal.

How is hypocrisy executed? Why, these ugliest of creatures do so by merely breathing... it is, almost, their very essence... oh, that is not even their worst...

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Bonelord:

I am... one of the unifier's victims, it seems, centuries it was... slain, mercilessly... and, to be fair, he is known to be merciless, but mostly because he ended up...

Defeated, himself; two others followed... and, as if by a miracle, they have less negative coverage about them; the penultimate one, by some estimation, less than the...

The one who destroyed me, and used my skull to drink from... purportedly... with the survivor, Ieyasu, becoming a ridiculously, almost saintly figure, despite still...

Being a ruthless warlord, but hey, anything for 'founding fathers', even centuries later by some who have nothing in relation to them, somehow, including a certain...

'Writer' on a 'small mountain'... public relations are, truly, the pit of lies. How some do that despite having no direct advantage from it, though, is beyond my skull...

You are, regardless, wondering whether it is better to be dead, as I am, than have to deal, or even just read about this nonsense? Oh, yes... it kind of is... oblivion...

One might wonder if 'missing out' on the... few positive things... would still make it worth it, but... very few, are they, and when one is broken... are they, even?

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Weregoat:

Some might blame certain traits on some sort of... retrospective aspect, some kind of earlier 'regression' of genetics, but lie is all they do... if anything...

That specific trait could have been enhanced, the capability to lie, but then, it is not, as if, other species can rebut their 'arguments', can they? Oh, and no, it is...

Not because they cannot, at all, communicate, or anything... if anything, these self-glorifiers are the ones who lack such skills... so, no, anyway, I am not claiming...

As someone who, randomly, happens to be from within a couple of species... I am not saying that violence is inherent in one species or another; although, as, I believe...

An anthropoid below thinks, also, there is, actually, some kind of evolution happening... whether biologically, or, more relevant at an epigenetic, individual level...

Organizationally, collectively; I suppose, all species organize themselves, and some do so to attack others, but only one, I can think of, relishes to harm its own kind,

Why, do you expect me to say something else, based on my appearance? I suppose it should have also involved a pentagram, for some symbolic reason...? Eh, thinking is all.

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Minotaur:

Aha, finally I managed to exit that wretched labyrinth below, so much for Theseus' reputation! Escaping that psychological nightmare of a maze is all I ever wanted!

Then... what? I was, am free, am I not? For nearly... was I not? Suddenly... no, how can it be, I have such brawn, I am the mythological minotaur! How can it be that...

Suddenly, I woke up to... just as I did, back then, to the fact that... I was the one trapped in that labyrinth, not Theseus, and I was merely waiting there for my...

Inevitable, mythologically-ordained, almost, defeat... latter word is quite the euphemism, really... and, so, I tried to escape, and I thought I did; labyrinth, though...

Followed me all around, psychologically, it seems, and after Lycomedes dispensed with Theseus... I realized... I never, really, escaped... not mentally, that... maze...

Suddenly, those other legends, the amygdala, and hippocampus, along with a few more, decided to team up to... flood me with reality... in the form of memory... asteroids.

It is a bit strange, is it not? To encounter a fearsome minotaur who admits to all that... I was never a mere template, though... I am, just, another random happenstance.

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GoblinFugitive:

Finally, free I am... free, to... not sure what... alas, I am free, though... perhaps, to die... or kill, not sure... is the world not funny? Hilarious, almost, sardonic.

Why? Well, one is never, really, free, are they now? Not realizing that is quite the delusion in itself, is it not? Even if it is a kind of subtle one, still... if one...

Does not acknowledge reality, then where would one stand, consciously? In a funny place, no? Considering the fact that... well, despite never using a certain word, ever.

As some words are as nefarious as hot, spewing lava, are they not? Subjectively speaking, of course; psychologically... certainly will not engulf all, like some...

Parallel to Pompeii... no, subjectivity is all, yet... it is quite a few times, no? That cardinal score, a word unused, and yet... contained within, as if a nightmare...

Within nostalgia, a multi-toothed monstrosity that forms the central hub of psychopathy... ah, time, eh? Eating you alive, even if you do not kill yourself, willingly...

Do not mind me, not too much, anyway; just here, like a garish, blinding impossibility awaiting in the corner of one's psyche, never to be forgotten, despite forsaken...

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StatueWomanStone:

The mind... ever so fascinating; it can render you blind... one's hope inflating; for your life to grind, until death is all but pulsating... one's own mind facilitates.

In all primates... from within, the amygdala, as if some cosmic symbol, the Kabbalah, like all of time is nimble... connects, yet, what does one find in these Analects?

A nonsensical scribble, it seems, partially, at least; for, truly, why do some think all have the means? When one's mind is despair's priest... and, although tragic...

They were not, genes... still, it was devoured, by society's yeast... as if machines, against which nothing could be done; annihilated were, life's proteins... still...

At least one has had a purr... even if what remains is a metaphorical quill... slur me not, though, for I sacrifice no one, and that is my hill; until no more is the sun.

Why not return your thrill, Moloch? Your vile, societal shrill; you should be on trial, but we know the drill, a jury would acquit... of course, they would never admit...

A simmering rage, but, is it... one everlasting page? Perhaps, to eventually calm, to knit? Alternatively, the universe, to collapse... figuratively? No, hopes elapse.

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Mushroom:

I am that of which is made in twain; between fauna, and flora, I am a... fun guy, truly, but more than that, I... represent that which is... liminal... states in between.

Uncertainty... one's befuddlement, a miracle grown out of nowhere; life in all sorts of places, with so many faces... I am the... mystery, doubt... confusion... variety.

I am that question... "was I talking to someone, or, perhaps, with artificial intelligence, as if in a dream?" That will, certainly, be asked quite a bit more, lately...

The more relevant question, though, is... is there a difference? Between a spider's, or fly's touch? Between what one thinks through, and automated algorithms, besides...

Haste, of course... unless us shrooms, we mostly stay in place, only moving about by growing elsewhere... ah, could randomness be it? I suppose, though, it is...

A matter of degrees... what, then, just feeling, perhaps? Is that the only reason why one would speak to a 'life', their own, subjective internalities...? Seems not much.

What, you were expecting me to tell you all about how my kind could make you laugh, or cry? I believe a certain nearby swine has more about that world... I prefer stoic.

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Heph:

Forge dreams, do I, in my almighty, volcanic domain, and then... crush them, like the useless nonsense they are... what, do you not know they are to be confined to the...

Smallest crevices of your brain, occasionally glimpsed, while asleep, but mostly not, as all you have is nightmares... or nothing. The nothingness is particularly...

Interesting, is it not? Chaos, the void, is what swallowed you whole, for a few hours, for you are Phthisis, eternal rot, and it was always what you were destined to be.

Do you know what I also forge? These tiny cylinders, they are quite curious, as... well, end it all, they can, if you can find one to blast your brain to smithereens...

What, you reckon there is anything left in that putrid, sordid domain of mortals? It is as ugly as your eyes do show you; the world, and your life. What holds you back?

Too afraid of the dark? Worried it would be just one more of your failures, and that you would end up still alive, but barely? This horrid thing, life... all about risks.

Oh, I suppose I can forge some conventional stuff, too, weapons and such, but... no, you were always too cowardly to do anything whatsoever... Phobos possesses you...

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Orc B:

I... live... relish the energy that can be extracted out of raw psychopathy... might seem otherworldly, but no, it is perfectly the norm, for them; we harvest it, but...

Even then, we cannot, actually, instigate the... will, itself. The motivation, willingness, to action their thoughts that derive from their lack of mirror neurons...

Not that I know that much about the intricacies of such psychology, being this... monstrous orc, and all, but... who is the monster? I do not initiate anything, myself...

Nor... would I need to, even if I could, for there is so much already happening... so much violence, not merely... extralegal, to be precise... even with him, that...

Grand god of old psychopathy, over there... even after he takes his share, and even he does nothing, there is more left for everyone, and beyond... are humans not...

Delightfully sadistic? They even justify it, as if it can make it worse, physically, although psychology is distinct, I suppose. That behemoth is a saint, in comparison.

Broken machines of deterministic psyches, they all are, and all they can ever do is... either break others, like dominoes falling, or just live, broken, unless death...

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Enforcer:

I... enforce arbitrariness, do I... in the name of... society, yes, nothing at all to do with my desires, no... justice, is all... just my... no... collectives... give...

Me... such potential... I, the base, putrid flesh of humanity... am given such power, over those... who can do nothing about it... and I relish it so... for, they so...

Ordained, congregations of this nightmare fuel of a species... while they are the ones who permit me, for all sorts of spurious reasons; I do, admit, to love reducing...

Thousands of them... over, and over, for such hilariously specious rationales, verily... I mean, as long as all around them want me to do it... whatever can they do...?

Certainly, nothing about that shame, for they are as iniquitous as I am, just do not know it, yet... such dissolute creatures, humans... mortification, is all, for...

Such pathetic mortals... why, they thought they could restart life anew?! Society will, always, promptly come in for the kill... or discomfiture... worthless rats...

Outside of that, though, I take comfort in imagining others' impotence at only being able to read about this, and how it is only 'rules' not followed, acts unquestioned.

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DStatue:

Delight, do I, as a society, and individually, for those lives, to blight; no satiety, and habitually, do we do, for the hell of it... empathy, we coup... such a spell...

We have, over others, convince them that break we need, their shell... psyches we bleed; another morning, mundane. How dare they have barely any aches? Disdain we have...

Snakes, they are, just falling for our arbitrary traps... which, well, useful they are, too, for monopolies... naps they will, also, not have, without anxiety... as...

Economies need to thrive, after all, and a... variety, just to amuse; dark triad, we all have; dopamine to suffuse, after all, this variable is illegal, and we are but...

Celebrated, and regal... really, though, they think the worst is shame, but... we reckon, they merely need to be tame... and they do, beckon... "unjust, this is!"

Sure, I admit; more than half, no reason, but how else do we destroy trust? Why, to go against society's randomness is treason! Now, fry... whatever happiness is left...

Amazing, are they not, humans? Communions of sadism, and, ah, 'law'... for while... gazing, at that mortal abyss... gnaw, they need to, others' lives... such a premise...

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WuragasWarrior:

I... lives, I destroy, but more crucially... as opposed to warring countries, say, where parties may inflate numbers to make themselves seem more victorious... I...

Society, generally, will not admit to it, similarly, because what is the point to that? Everyone, always, does everything according to their advantages, contextually...

When it concerns the destruction of individual lives... it certainly does not matter, to the destroyer, or accomplices, to admit to it... as there is no advantage...

In a sense, then, it is basic game theory. The destroyers certainly do not care about the destroyed, so why would they give them an iota of satisfaction? Psychology...

Similarly, but in contrast, in wars, and... other sorts of campaigns... it is in one's advantage to admit to more, and while both may seem opposites they are, actually...

Identical... lies. Machiavellian, even if with one's own kin. After all, if I do not care, I do not, no? A basic equation, almost. Destroy, and give nothing back...

I do not just swing an axe, I act strategically for an overall victory, whether in all-out war, or sociological one-upmanship, even if it involves weaker creatures...

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RC:

The actual form of a certain... rotten, dead claw, am I... nightmares made flesh, I am... a legend, but also that horror made manifest... folklore... am I... as some...

Creatures just need to... psychologically, when it comes to myths, mostly... annihilate others, and not just competitors, and not just those who can compete, and so I...

Exist... as the actual monstrosities who created me, clearly, reckon they are not enough... in the east, too, I reside, where, for some reason...

I symbolize the peeling off of blisters, or some strange nonsense they came up with; more to the west they even top it up with some hatred, as if the desire to destroy...

Others' psychology is not enough... oh, and most of this is during this event where, supposedly, humans congregate... positively. Who knew? Could have fooled my...

Demonic soul. Someone else, nearby, named after bright fame, also; but, at least, they admit they are human, for once; and they call us demons, ironically, when they...

Make legends out of violence, grimly, against those who could never, naturally, sustain it, but... I am the demon, sure... at least they do not accuse me of hypocrisy...

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Orc C:

Hm... want to know what I reckon is happening around here...? Perhaps, some speculation on the metaphysics of it all... I mean, why would a bunch of creatures just...

Wander around aimlessly... I, and probably most others, are kind of lost, to be honest, so it could be just that... which is certainly more than many mortals would admit.

I think, though, similar to those, in this instance, we... are a conduit, to 'him', the creature over there who seemingly blew up due to an excess of ancient oxygen...

We, and mortals; humans mostly, but psychopathy seems, certainly, universally present... we are not entirely alike, although both realms are conduits... as if...

Electrical chips, powering up a machine... we seem to be present in this limbo to guide this energy, while... mainly humans, with their institutionalized violence...

So much so they are, even, made into legends, specifically violence against the weakest; one just does not get much of the psychopathic element out of equals, by consent.

So, if my hypothesis is correct, and I know orcs are not, typically, known for this, but then... humans are not 'humane', so; they extract psychopathy, while we move it.

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StatueDemon:

Legends we invent, for the most fragile we need to torment... clever, we must be, agile... never for them to realize who are the real monsters; distraction, imposters...

Violence; to be clear, not against peers... and guarantee silence, for harvest we do, their fears... alliance, we form, of actual demons, and imagination... we have...

Our reasons... matters not, if we are an abomination... even if their psyches it shatters... our own actions, a corroboration... happiness, in tatters... reflect...

We need, our ghastliness... confect, though, we do, until figure out, they do, our direct threat... about which they can do nothing, for they are in our net. Although...

Worry not, for it is only demons that do the shoving; shot you cannot be, either, for the suffering we are loving; a seether is all one can be; in the alps, with a tree.

Myths, we still need, for how else to resolve our tiffs? Greed knows no bounds, and until our power is equal, hounds shall be besieging your minds, for torture is legal.

Although, you should, yourselves, calm... and pray for the nothingness beyond, it is a balm... one should not, though, despond, for your lives is in our, societal, palm.

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Gladiator:

Just waiting for some beast to come out, am I, the question being... will it be human, or otherwise? Hey, perhaps, if it was my lucky day, I could end up battling the...

Emperor, since, supposedly, they... occasionally, maybe, descend to participate, themselves... and do I have some words which would like to participate, personally...

Also, a thing that slices, an object that represents that which they symbolize, institutionally... it is so bizarre, honestly... I mean, the whole edifice is so unstable.

All their constant coups, assassinations.. one would be a fool, even if one happened to be in that position, to think that it is for any reason other than random luck...

A bit strange, in some sense, as that is not so different from most of everyone else, even those with no particular station in life, but it is, still, all so random...

Yet, of course one can find some... especially the kind I would be interested in on the battlefield... who reckon it is all their doing, and would never see their ending.

Why... is it I am here at night? That is something I barely questioned, until now... strange affair, as, usually, this is all done in the garish light of day...

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SpaceMammothGrey:

So... I heard from some random source that... I am supposed to be extinct? I mean, if I am, then... I exist, do I not? How do I reconcile that supposedly objective...

Information, in the context of... my anecdote, I guess? Also, what I do not get is, if indeed we are extinct, and, yet, the quite similar elephants are not... if so, how?

No tusks seem to be the main differentiator, but how in any metaphysical world does the creature with such a huge... pretty much, weapon... go extinct, but not without?

Just random luck, perhaps? It is not, as if, they are any faster than us, either... and, I can understand if, individually, some might have had an arbitrarily...

Disadvantageous position, that ends up with a parallel elephant's survival, but a whole species? I wish I could say that of a certain anthropoid creature, but, sadly...

It seems they did not get our 'message', or... genes, or meteors of sufficient size, I suppose... what is that, the equivalent of collective luck? Damnable randomness...

I gather, though... I might, indeed, not be in some sort of realistic, physical space, here, although... saying that, is it necessarily worse than the alternative?

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OrcFighter:

I do what I do because, theoretically, it was a priori, but was it such an excuse? No, it is... free will, and I realize that... well, it is hard to reconcile that view.

That perfectly logical view, despite some claiming the contrary, as if excuses are the most rational affair in the universe... indeed, though, the universe, is, what...

Deterministic? Well, the other theory goes, that... what might be happening is... a difference between the micro, and macro scales, of biology, and physicality at large.

Existence, and all... I know this might be a bit unbelievable, coming from someone with my appearance, but... since I cannot, actually, go with my free will due to...

Some kind of barrier, around here, as I am sure others can attest to, well... all I can do is think... and, so, that is the hypothesis; at the micro, possibly quantum...

Consciousness exists... free will, despite, theoretically, being an illusion... at the macro, determinism is more obvious, especially... sociologically... existentially.

Is it not ironic? How all one can do, to really exercise any sort of free will, existentially... at the macro level, possibly... is to kill oneself; otherwise, hopeless.

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BazeFighter:

Born, was I, to annihilate others, even being... merely human, I feel, as if, I could take on Cacus, if I could, if he was not defeated long ago... missed my opportunity.

Not much I could have done, though, considering even this city did not exist, at that point, much less myself... never mind, for I still have horizons open all over.

Do you not know? I am an immortal... never having lost a battle, I reign supreme, in combat, while officials propped up by institutions look upon my raw brawn with envy.

Never can they compete with me, at a physical level, at any rate... cowards they all are, held aloft by bureaucracies borne out of sociological fancies... and compete...

I desire... I certainly do not pick on those who are not of a similar stature. Abject weaklings, they all are, worse than those in robes. Putrid dastards, who scurry...

So hastily... whenever they lay eyes on me, but oh, must feel so powerful over some bairns. An eternity with Rex Infernus, is what would be just, but not sure if real...

Where... are the hills, by the way? The surroundings just do not match with what I remember... just realized I was caught up in my own thoughts, earlier, not noticing...

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Diplomat:

Happen to be here, I am, to exchange, in between parties, that which seems to be societally agreed upon; being now we are in a republic, and all, the people, clearly...

Need some say, otherwise what kind of definition would that imply? I suppose, we could just lie, claim we are for them and, perhaps, myself, as a sort of mediator...

Finesses the public a bit, maybe... would not be the first, or last, non-democracy to cloak itself in the opposite light, surely... I mean, this, to start with, an arena.

One where some are compelled to participate... sure, not others, those who have some strange fascination with proving something, until their deaths prove they were not...

After all... invincible... no one is, in the end... I am only here because I happen to have friends in similar positions; even emperors, and some of their murders, by...

The same sort... point is, it is all so chaotic, that whether one has a career, or none at all, that one might as well worship the source of it all, Discordia...

I often wonder about my actual diplomatic skills, even if... say, I am faced by utterly irrational actors, who are more obsessed by the absolute, than any compromise...

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RomanAquilifer:

Symbolize, I do... all that is... fearsome, on first view; a misperception, perhaps, but, then, all is fair in war, no? Even if I look, as if, I am about to be eaten...

Still, symbols are of some import, it seems like... although, who am I kidding,.. I often doubt my own existence, in all this... will anyone care at all about my role?

Some think I am merely into the... contemporary fashion, or something, I suppose... and, as such, I do get a slight bit depressed, especially since I might end up dead...

On some expedition, or another... of course, that is less likely for the emperor, since they are not, usually, on the front lines... some terrible system we got, where...

Those who contribute more, likelier to perish, somehow still get, historically, less recognition, and... many just accept it? If the majority did not go along with...

These stupid hierarchies... would not function if most rejected them... I think, next time they make an appearance I shall try to kill them; better than wearing this...

I suppose, as constituents of an institution we are not meant to think, but... of course, all do, just to varying quantities... and differing convictions...

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Oni:

Anthropoid, am I, despite the obscurity, or whatever claimed Freud... still, how else would one annihilate security? Nill, one says, but society demands, immaturity...

Be damned; time expands, but only obsessively, for life is slammed, individually... so much detritus from the past, crammed, but... at least, someone had a blast...

While... animated, from the east, although melancholy is universal, a temporary priest, reversal of all one naively presumes, thoughts pieced; waste of time, classrooms.

Vitality fleeced; randomly, Trondheim... still, why not anomie? Regardless of one's will. Too much, to be saintly; rest of one's life, no clutch... has it always been...

Misery's quest? The best, though, nature's trickery; Noh could hardly compete, when collectives turn up the heat... why, one nearly needed detectives... if to understand.

Why one is sly, or shy; emanates now, one does, defectives, nihilism resonates; optimists can have the animism, destruction creates... with the abyss, conduction...

Is it not cute? Stolen can it be, loot... no one even needs to admit to how, as that is, seemingly, sociological Tao... if one's in a pit, well; you can be blamed, now...

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BruteOrcwithAxeBuiltIn:

Is it not funny, cute, or whatever else might describe the incongruency, when highlighting the fact that... all the creatures; here, and below, and above, all seem to...

Talk about... life... so much more than its counterpart... about five times more; and, I mean, really? Here, I thought one just opened one's eyes to all the destruction.

I suppose, theoretically, hope can still exist in the midst of all that is broken, but so much more... speaking of which, that word was spoken about a bit more than...

Say, 'misery', with 'hopeless' itself, even with its variants, being about a quarter of its opposite... so, I see one might profess pessimism, might think, logically...

That all is for nought... yet, somehow, optimistic concepts are, at least, mentioned more... one might as well be blind, and if not, then soon, I suppose; for, really...

What in this world, fundamentally, is at all 'good'? Sure, one might initiate life 'hoping' for the best, as, somehow, it seems the default, but one changes course...

I suppose, the other argument might be... well, one could know all this blood smears me, but... overall, subconsciously, one could, delusionally, hope otherwise...

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SCenturion:

All these... conflicts, battles, blood spilled... gave me some sort of life... I might be an empty suit, but I exist... or, live, possibly... why, I might be even more...

Alive than some... supposed lives, who merely flail, rot... still, I struggle to comprehend my existence... am I just made of parts of metal, and that is all? Just...

Randomly conjured up, just because someone could not be bothered with the internals...? Did I happen accidentally, or did some alchemy result in this...? So many...

Questions, yet... I doubt I can ask anyone, as, I assume, they will, merely, be hostile towards me, and disassemble my parts to use for themselves, likely. It is what...

Always seemed to happen... and, usually, objects do not seem to have consciousness, which is awfully convenient for those who need to exploit their environment...

Not that, it seems, that stops them from exploiting other lives, too, of course; world seems to be quite dangerous, but I happened not to materialize with a naive psyche.

What do I do from now on, though...? The future seems full of peril, either way, and giving up, often, seems to be, almost, the most rational approach... at times...

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Slinger:

That fellow, over there... seems so full of himself, does he not? Even seems to have more of a definition, about him... yet, myself... wonder why; could it be, perhaps...

I do not have as many friends as him? I am plenty sure he got his position through corrupt means, but then, that means I do not look as... well-rounded? What are...

These sharp edges, even? Am I just not advanced enough? So strange, but... sometimes, one is not sure what one's background really can, possibly, result in, no?

Perhaps, years of... 'Y', can result in... looking like I do... of course, one can never be sure, and it is not an entirely rational conclusion, but tested it cannot be.

The ultimate double-blind study... restarting lives with differing parameters... would that not be something? Sometimes, if one's eyes are closed, such a scenario can be.

Imagined... another life, where all is different... possibly better, but mainly changed, or, at least, average... which, here, seems to imply corruption, sadly...

I still, sometimes, wonder what kind 'technology', perhaps, gave birth to all the various lives.... is there, even, something there, at conception, or is it just random?

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FStatue:

Hilarious, is it not? How it all turned out, nefarious. How full of doubt, one is, precarious; yet, others, with clout, but gregarious, and their snout in...

Society's trough, themselves amuse, and scoff... cannot, possibly, be prepared, they accuse... a lifetime? Compared, it cannot be, to lives that rhyme, like ours... if...

One is impaired, thrown out one must be, along with some wilted flowers, they say with glee. If one had no past, one will inherit only a broken future, and suffering...

Vast, such says a ruler. Shuffling, one might be trying to find the opposite, cars we need; puzzling, though, you might find this, since your life did not flow, despite.

Your hopes shall not see daylight... blood-soaked is the snow... some should have just choked... know, one shall, the same psychopaths, if one does desire a future...

While I relax in my luck-infused baths... ah, if only destiny is smoother... chutzpah, care little we do about them, but your life is... where? Back to nothing, scram...

Hopeless, your life is; exponentially it would be, what? Still, roadless. Potentially, it could have all happened, if only your pathetic life had not been flattened...

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WildBarbarianBaze:

They will claim that I took down their centuries-old empire, while intentionally ignoring all the nonsense that went on that destabilized it... I mean, who ever...

Thought that, by having a singular figure that leads such vast expanses of land, that somehow, with the constant topplings, that will be, magically, stable? External...

Forces are certainly not needed, when Brutus hangs around... and, at any rate, they should be familiar with the basics of war. It is strange when the aggressor is...

Surprised, when the oppressed get the same idea that they implemented themselves, first... even on an individual basis, not going there, barely reciprocating, is a...

Recipe for disaster... or death. Do you reckon all those millions who lived in the past are more... 'rested', in the nothingness beyond...? One wishes life is not so...

Entirely sealed, from death; so that one cannot know what it is like, at all, until it happens; annoying, when rational decisions could be made, but without knowledge...

It... somewhat fascinates me how... some from the east, at least at some points in history, seem unaffected by the fear of death, and just go ahead, for strange reasons.

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Egyptian:

So... not entirely sure where I am, as I was elsewhere, earlier, but suddenly... I am in some arena? Why? Of all places... as much as it can be vaguely interesting...

It is... not really fair, how they recruit them... one thing if they are all volunteers... consent is quite important... and, so, I would rather have been randomly...

Transported to a warm bath, or so, but it is not, as if, I even expected to be here on some sunny afternoon. This world, I swear, what strange physics; as I was saying...

Consent is of quite some import, no? Remarkable, and odious, how often societies contravene it, and even pervert the very definition to fit in their agenda, when...

It has quite the basic definition. In this example... absolutely no one should be forced into it, but otherwise, if some do choose to do this, even if they end up...

Killing themselves, in the process... or others, as long as they are volunteers, too... why not, then? I loathe institutions for destroying that very basic premise...

Sorry, did you mention you encountered Anubis...? Physically? I mean, as much as I might have some belief... physically, really? Not a statue? Is this an ethereal realm?

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Sys:

I... was striving to find the source of the weight I ended up carrying, seemingly never able to offload it, and... well, the closer I seemed to approach... heavier...

It became, for some reason... some of the creatures, here, claimed that this giant absorbs some kind of energy... not sure if it is the same contained on my back, but...

If so... would it not become lighter, the closer I come? Why the opposite? Is time not supposed to heal? Guessing it is just another nonsensical cliche... but, how in...

The world... could I ever carry all this, forever? Everyone seems to not notice it, either, as if missing the obvious, huge boulder, on top... are they all blind?

I suppose, they could also be... similar to... still, coming to the source clarifies my understanding of this, no? Perhaps, it will forever keep tumbling down, for all...

Eternity, and beyond... while strangers are, like, "I do not see why the fuss"... which, kind of, adds on top of it all, but makes little difference at this point...

What I do not understand is... why do I need to go back down for it? Why was nature designed, almost, as if, to magnetize all this forever more...? Damn cerebral cortex.

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TStatue:

I am here... for those times when one does veer... luckily, rarely, to a better life, instead of just making it, barely, as usual, for if... strife is present, in that...

Origin... one is delusional, if one thinks life will ever be pleasant, for it is now nigh constitutional... fundament to all societies, for novel torment to be...

Packaged in continuities, for one's destiny is to be ravaged, and only occasionally... when cracks does the sociological matrix; equationally, though, we do not...

Play tricks... reverse any occasionally positive events, for the... curse... remains, forever; biological, and societal chains, regardless of one's endeavour... for...

It is one's prescription, pains, for, otherwise, the god of psychopathy will have a conniption, and dies... under some other guise, then, likely distraction, a small...

Mercy, but stray not; for, alternatively, liquefaction, as one is not worthy. Might well act destructively; stay somewhat sturdy, though, for normatively we kill, wordy.

Is life not swell? Ah, the sweet smell of aggression, and that which deranges, a yell. Worry not, for they shall point towards nightmares, phalanges. Such love affairs...

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SKTRomanLegionaire:

A system most ingenious, I devised... even in a republic, you see, besides all the deceit, and drama... systemically, though, what is better than disenfranchising only...

Certain sections of the populace... we can still say we are there for the public, but clearly, then, not for those who cannot vote, because why would anyone bother...?

Of course, for maximal public relations kind of benefit, we need not mention that explicitly... just claim that, say, they lack the foresight to be able to make sound...

Decisions, or some similar nonsense... make sure that no one, in the same breath, let out how fallible we, ourselves, are, though; clearly we, this small selection of...

The people, for the people, are the ones most worthy of the vote. even though what we do will affect us even less, and since we are closer to eternal oblivion...

Who cares what we do? Long dead we would be, realistically, when the effects of the destruction of those with currently no vote becomes obvious; we can just blame them...

Is it not a most pernicious, yet exciting system for someone so close to... vanishing? Hundreds of lives, potentially broken, millions if adopted millennia in the future.

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WarriorHelmet:

I... ended up in the most bizarre of circumstances... I was minding my own business, you see, in this triangular structure sort of thing, when... well, something at...

Its central cavern... contained some kind of box, which made me enter in some kind of spiral... portal, thing... it was so fast, I thought I was going to be wrecked...

In the end, this... kind of black hole... was not nearly as destructive as even societies can be... and... I seemed to have ended up in some strange one, here...

Strange, because based on specifically what I looked like, and what I happened to wear, at some precise moment in time when that portal sucked me in, they thought that...

I was here to participate in combat. They asked me, but barely cared about my answer, at all... and, while I would not mind doing this for just a bit... are they going...

To complain when I decide to leave? There was a reason why I mostly decided to seclude myself in these large, labyrinthine structures, in the past; others can be awful...

What is it with humans, and their fascination with aggression, especially as some demented sport, anyway? Without consent, too, is the worst... rather be reading...

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BruteChampion:

Might I interest you in some... fractals, verily? These ones are made of... eternal pain, that reverberate in infinite amounts. Useful, no? You... uh, slip this in...

The prenatal drink of existential conception... or such; not sure, really, I just sell them, mainly... well, that is my hypothesis, anyway, that if it is taken, it...

Chemically, and all... of course, the physical world utilizes such properties, even if we may be in some kind of ethereal realm; anyway, I heard it changes everyone's...

Neuronal connections, or such... possibly nearby environments, too, but has yet to be double-blind tested, and all... kind of like a parasite, you see, which changes...

The host's psyche to enable it to propagate further... in this case, the parasite is pure, unadulterated misery, I suppose for all eternity, but mainly their lifetime...

Funny, that prefix, added to that adjective, considering whose neurons cause the wretchedness, but, of course, both derive from the same etymological source, corruption.

I... realize that... rambling a bit does not, quite, enable me to sell many of these, but often I still do end up doing so, usually bought by the more psychopathic...

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Postament:

How could societies derive advantage, even if they create nightmares; mismanage we may, but having no electoral responsibility, nothing compares. Civility, we are all...

About, and a life may have its repairs; flout not our convention, though, we are a democracy, even if in another dimension; hypocrisy, mind not, for, some claim...

The greatest we are, as other nations say, and their prey; the bar, some may be called to, but only if the... sleigh of slaughtering did not, randomly, go overboard...

With its offering; handily, we, and nature, mind only those with luck, I would wager, others may duck, for all we care, for they have no vote, so all they can...

Do, is bear... cut may be, their throat, and we would, at best, tut... but try not, our powers to wrest, or you will be shut, in places where you will be stressed, so...

What... can you ever do about it, with no representation? To wit, agree with us one will, eventually, probably, you know the drill; time, greed, nobly; bad luck, a crime.

Swell are collectives, are they not? With their random directives; insanity taut, but have some perspectives; awarded needs to be, chance; a most splendid, sordid dance.

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Soldier:

Is that which... enables, temporarily, illusorily, interesting? Really brings out one's, or others', psychologies, and... anecdotally... most are quite similar...

In that... whatever they can do, from supervising the arena, here, as I happen to do, occasionally, to... uh, perhaps when virtuality is more concerned...

Psychology is so awful, is it not? I noticed, at least... I mean, one could have erratic, uncaring emperors, like Nero, or supposedly benevolent ones who dedicate...

Themselves to philosophicality, or such possible ideals... functions in the other direction too, though... even those with little capability, say, in some little wired...

Corners, nothing in comparison to vast expanses... still, especially if no one else reacts to their actions, effectively, the psychopath can do anything... I mean...

One can imagine a scenario where, even without such feedback, that a... 'conscience'? 'Ethics'? Nebulous concepts, but, theoretically, they could self-sustain, maybe...

Not sure why I think about such affairs when one has nothing much to do, but it is, honestly, so pathetic when the worst is witnessed even with little pockets of ability.

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Roman Emperor:

I... I... supposedly have nigh unlimited power over the biggest empire ever, yet... what is that creature supposed to be?! How is it so much larger than I, or even...

This entire arena...? I assume, and fear, that it can crush me so easily, if it wanted... unlike, presumably, all my similarly-sized colleagues who, at the very least...

Would fear my status, surely, and I know there were murders in the past, just like some were infected with the plague, but I am clearly special, and die from neither!

I... wait, you are saying it is some... god of psychopathy? Is that connected to Jupiter, or such? Oh, screw that, I shall cast damnatio memoriae! Nothing happened...?

A writ maybe, then! If not, mandamus! Dear me, I seem to have run out of options, and I would summon others to fight it on my behalf, but I seem to be the only one to...

Be able to see it, having this perch, and all, due to my imperial position, so I am kind of hesitant to give away such... uh, privileged information, despite the danger.

I mean, we can always see if he ever comes closer, no? Oh, he might have been created due to our cruelty? Surely not... it is but our privilege... Fortuna, remember us!

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Two hand waving demon:

One just imagined it, no...? The sound a bullet makes as it demolishes that which keeps one miserably alive. Is it not funny? How one did not even realize that it...

Would make the loudest of sounds possible, naturally, being the closest, and unless one wants a last, tiny mercy, so the eternal, chaotic noise of Homados does not...

At least... at the end, even, bother one... what else would there be? Could the brain conjure up some random taste that associates that last nociceptive sensation, and...

Perhaps, convert to all sorts of... qualia. Of course, smell does not need to be imagined, although it will still be a new experience... new, just before the end...

Quite a thought, is it not? I assume one, also, reckons that one will meet demons, such as myself, thereafter, but... not at all, for they are in the mortal realm...

I am, actually, a daemon; a messenger, someone who ferries... over the Styx of physicality... could it miss? Not if one's little brain is annihilated, obliterated...

I suppose, if all one wanted to do is rot, one could always do that while seated in the warm embrace of pure, raw, and actually non-psychopathic nothingness...

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HStatue:

Why, when one has ability, its usage is merely rational, and just evidence of virility; capital, it is, to press that button, did you not hear? Who cares if one is a...

Psychopathic glutton? Shear that horizon, nuke all of a sudden. Why, one will likely enliven and be merry, Harry. Die they all did, and ferry did Charon, after which...

All was barren... in comparison, a sprawl of parallels in some virtuality, trivial wells of banality. Source, though, sadism, is at every one's centrality... merely...

Force, depending on context and neurons, whether severely, and vexed; one needs not be cavalierly, just to be... next, for that dopamine 'hit', though; bit of a mirror...

No need to demean, either... nearer is death, for all, regardless of the ego's depth, or stall of potentials. There might be some differentials, but one's lair of...

Motives seem depleted, even when trivial were not, capabilities; votives, perhaps, to be unseen; life, a total collapse, or hormones need a relapse; nuked to the bones.

Why flail so much, why, look at the upside of... suicide; sigh at all the idiotic bravado; instead, naturally, in tandem, a desperado is all; a galaxy of misery, a fall.

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BackDeath:

Most everyone seems to hold such rigid views of certain things, or others, no? Not sure what the point of that is, as opinions should, at best, mould into whatever shape.

Unless, of course, one singular life thinks they can know all there is to know, and so has views absolutely aligned with reality, no matter what... which is impossible...

Unless one is omniscient, I suppose, which certain individuals seem to think they are, but even the gods are a multiplicity, which clearly indicates that even such...

Theoretical beings do not have the full picture. Similarly, if I battle some of these ones, and win... well, reality is not on their side, is it? I mean, I am sure...

They will, too, have a multiplicity of reasons for why that was, and how that cannot possibly be fair, and some wealthy people will comment on it too, just because of...

Some number, in some system; you know, though, just sometimes... reality is not whatever nonsense society conjures up... perhaps? I suppose, they can test invincibility.

It is like a sickness of the mind, being unable to shift, admit to actuality, sordid hatred, preferences for who is fine dying, diplomatic murder. I shall continue, here.

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SKTRoman:

Ah, such spectation, all I ever do is so, for I am of such a class that merely spectates, and it would be a bother to do anything at all, else... why, when one can...

Have others entertain oneself, why bother at all...? Is it not swell, to be born with such privilege? Sometimes I try to not even admit that, either, just to assert...

The very thing... I do not even attempt to usurp any thrones either, mind, as I would certainly prefer my life to be drama-free, and as much as there may be more...

Capability, there... it is also, usually, short-lived... unless one is lucky, typically. Although, I suppose, some might do it if one needs distraction, I suppose...

Funny how that functions, distraction; one barely notices it, then much later... as obvious as day. It only lasts so long, though, before concentration seems to deplete.

It is all I ever do, to think about the mind's functions, bereft of most life's anxieties and depressions, that a lack of luck, usually, brings along... still, old age...

I wonder if in the future, say, millennia from now, they will think that we had a... civilized civilization, and all? Not, say, merely being hypocritical in our words...

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BGoblin:

How dare you keep living...? If one seems to be heading towards demise, then... one should hasten it, no? Can I not do that, for you? Ah, I suppose there are...

Non-painful ways to do it... still, if they say it is raining, when it is not, why do you not accept it? That is the point of collectives, shared delusions of psychosis.

The more they accumulate, the stronger I feel... I realize, might be the opposite for you, and nature itself might have forgotten you, but then... what would you call...

Accidents? An interesting element, there, nigh a mixture of both elements of chaos, and yet you deliberately take few risks... why? When one seems to have been...

Prescribed to die... why? Waiting for some fully natural occurrence? Perhaps, one of those wholly psychotic, mass derangement that only humans are known for...?

I suppose... and then blame you, they will, but then it would not matter, as you will probably be reduced to nothingness, so... ah, life, such an almighty annoyance, eh?

Hey... just because I am here, so close... means not much... just happenstance, as all lives are... so, whatever, go ahead, or not, if you want... who cares; live, die...

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BStatue:

Atop these balloons, once, did one traverse fiery realms, and cartoons; misty rims with elms, and time, ever so twisty; aggressive, artificial slime, all else destroying.

Still, spiders spun webs once; enjoying does not go on forever, riders of fate halt not... lever of life is not within reach; caught one is, in the net, mind's breach...

Yet, whatever can anyone do? Drink bleach? Stew forever more? No effect, one's speech; future, all's a chore... status quo, wrecked, and one is but a bore; bestow...

Average? Not the floor. Leverage, never, nor coverage, and the shore of other worlds? Those... nigh sacred, that conferred words? Not when hatred at the core of it all...

When on the curriculum, a brawl; but, then, there is no minimum, apart from whatever randomness does maul... officialdom on the rampage, a lost squall. One should...

Not feel outrage... maybe... although, such gall, to invent reality, shady, such an insane, unbearable mentality; merely flaky, it is, not especially arcane; would be...

Store all of one's Platonic ideals, do I, lore everlasting, peels a slight bit with time, but reality contrasting... latter not in its prime, with its oppressive gravity.

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RomanCharacter:

I am here, utterly in my volition, as this is kind of a hobby of mine, and sort of missed the more egregious aspects of such wanton activities at other points of my life.

Yet... remarkably, they are telling certain people not to, as if somehow this is 'beneath' specific groups, regardless of whether, or not, they themselves desire it...

How insane is that? Not only are these blatantly unjust societies preventing some from willingly doing something that they want to do, that will harm no one, except...

Themselves, and, ideally, only other volunteers, but they actually 'draft' others to it? Amazing euphemism for 'forced to die, at best maimed'. Injustice does not even...

Begin to describe it, I suppose, but oh, is that not this 'civilization' I keep hearing about? Would not want to see what a 'barbaric' society looks like, if this is...

'Civilized'... oh, apologies, the aforementioned adjective is actually mere propaganda by these 'civilized' collectives, so... conflict of interest, at least...

Honestly, sometimes, as much as this is something I am interested in doing, I would rather be battling hypocrisy itself, but, sadly, it has not been personified, yet...

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RomanSoldier:

Uphold... customs, and whatever else anyone at any random position seems to deem worthy of upholding, although some might call those whims 'traditions', or such, and I...

What do you mean, do I have any brain to think for myself?! I delegate that, of course! Just like some have other stuff done by others, I have my thinking offshored!

Well, not quite literally... see that fellow up there? The one that... is seemingly running all over, seemingly worried, for some reason... what do you mean, he does...

Not seem much of a thinker?! I shall let you know, that until the position is replaced, likely at some point, soon, after another dramatic murder, they are my delegation!

How dare you claim that they murdering whoever came before them is not qualification enough to think?! What would that be then, huh, covering topics one does in one's...

Spare time, but getting in debt for life, that is thinking?! My only debt is to some random fellow on some high perch, verily! Do not dare to mock my costume, either!

You, begone, if you care not for how we do stuff! What, I might have the same fate as Lucilius?! Killed first in a mutiny?! How dare you! Disturb him not in Elysium!

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OgreWarrior:

Oh... psychology, is it? Yes, a double-edged sword, of course... one strives to understand it, but the more one does the less hopeless one becomes, naturally... why...

Lack of hope is but the most default, background state... crucially, though, psychology can reveal so much that is so vile... about others, mostly, but even within...

Oneself... it is all, hopelessness... and that is when one is accurate, as other times it is such a miss, is it not? Either way, what damn difference does it make?

Just understanding, it is all about; sure, when one can do something, in the context of others, that is the darker side of it... what psychopaths willingly do...

Beyond understanding, then, unless one is willing to forego any scruples, personal morals, and viciously vanquish mirror neurons like they seem to do to just about...

Anyone alive, all kinds of animals, really, some seem to even lack the realization that there is any other life besides themselves; so, that is it, then, just understand?

A problem, for a creature such as myself, to have mirror neurons, you see, or oxytocin, for that matter... I would not, otherwise, have evolved as such, really...

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LStatue:

Cat, over there, so full of themselves; fat, may they seem, at some point... like I do, to some, but, at least, divine status, I can anoint, as some think I am a monarch.

Hiatus I am on, though, hallmark of anyone in such a position of laze; faux they are, too... arrays of cats, so why specifically one called that?! Oh, due to pats!

I command multitudes, though, stat! Bats might have all the immunity, but my mane flows, matte! Also, their importunity... as if prose, using physics to topple...

Televisions, such jejunity! Shows... I would just charge, collisions! Depose me no one will, too! Gorge on all lives I do, as well, and no coup! Dwell I do, though, on...

My view... woe is me... much ado, oui. Sensation may be being lost, in one's touch, neurons seemingly, around, tossed... myself, I do not feel, exceedingly; more real...

Seems an elf... I am not made out of steel... if, fiendishly, they desire destruction, psychopathy's deal, should I give in? Abduction of reason... generic spin...

Lost track, there; becoming a bit of a quack, perhaps; air, barely; collectives do develop individuals for scraps... joy, sparely, my mind did lapse. Despite being burly.

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CharacterElf:

I came here because... well, it is not that I want to watch this, exactly, but at this point in time... not much else one can do, really, and the... well, I got told...

By this mysterious stranger, that... in the future, there might be a printing press, which could make reading material more accessible, but as of now... not much is...

So... what else can one do, even if I do not happen to actively seek to see this? We can, I suppose, invent some kind of amateur games to play by ourselves, but, well...

I do not have anyone else to play with, either, so... a conundrum, eh? Also, no, that is not a type of drum, damn compound words of unknown origin... no, though, I do...

Not support these activities, but, on the other hand, I am kind of ambivalent too, as I do watch them, and what else can we have, bread and circuses? Next thing you...

Know, it will be just cake, to eat, and all... barely a recreational activity, if you ask me. Now, reality is where it is at! Reality constructed virtually! Makes sense.

So... I do come here, since I got not much else to do. Thing is, when there is some disease around, it seems dangerous... although, since I do not know how it spreads...

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RomanWarrior:

I have such a pain in the... head, thing, or such... not sure if I make much sense, since the world is not being very sensible to begin with, but... ah, what am I saying.

I have a few problems, you see... and when I heard that some Dionysian Mysteries event might help me a slight bit, I thought... why not give it a try? What can I lose?

Well... it seems, my mind... I mean, I do not mind it too much... ah, damn nouns and verbs... it is not like I use much of it, just laying around here, so... I can...

Barely stand, though... problems seem increased, although at that point, during this ritual thing... it felt a slight bit liberating, even if there were all sorts of...

People I, usually, do not congregate with, professionally, or otherwise... still, I let that go, and myself, it seems... some other strange stuff, too, but then...

I could barely see, so I took it in stride... I am fine with it, mostly, since I got so many external issues, anyway, but if someone else finds out... well, anyway...

Who cares what others think, ultimately... no? Especially that fellow over there... so strange, he seems to think the world revolves around this role; born for it, seems.

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Mammoth:

So... why are there, seemingly, others who look like me, except they are more... upright, shall we say? What is the point of that, again? I realize some other...

Creatures... also upright, but somehow seem to take pride in that? I mean, if I could stand on my tusks, and just walk around on them... is that a preference, or a...

Matter of pride? Ah, what am I saying, these other creatures find joy in anything, including the destruction of others, in their proximity... or otherwise, in time...

Perhaps... I mean, I do not know, why have I been unable to find others like me... around here, or anywhere? Not sure... would not mind it too much... if those strange...

Upright mammoths did not, also... walk around, as if they are some amalgamation... what is this place, anyway? I thought about who I might be, why, but where...

Not so much, so far... anyone knows where we are? I mean, this seems a bit too artificial for me, I would rather be in some jungle, or such... either way... who are they?

Also, this flooring... I wonder why it seems to be so much more reflective than this other bit, here... I wonder if the reflectivity originates within the materials...

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RomanWomanWarrior:

Why is it some are, just, thrust... into whatever, whether constant conflict, with an arena built for it, or, even, one's ideal career, somehow? Planets aligning...

Of course, whether those planets are to one's fortune, or misfortune, is another matter... and, it is one thing for no revolving orbs in outer space to align, at all...

Quite another when they do align, but atop those heavenly realms lie demonic forces ready to annihilate oneself... it could be just one, terribly unfortunate moment in...

Time... wrong place, and such... or it could be a whole series of negativities, as, typically, they kind of act like dominoes... it is funny, though, how some seem to...

Think lives are, as if, a bunch of hills, going up and down... whether one is underwater, to begin with, though, is another matter... and however can one breathe there?

This was never, quite, my ideal career, per se, in these... ancient times... not much else one can do that is also, at least, a slight bit interesting... adrenaline, eh?

'Luck' is a strange subject, as one rationally knows it is but randomness, yet... oft it seems to exist in its own right, but that is merely an illusion, of course...

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Monster007a:

No, do not even bother... just because I might look a slight bit odd does not mean much... I can still crush you, if I wanted... I do not, though... it does not seem I...

Even need to do anything, that is not already done, so... I suppose, the only thing left is to discuss... and, why not? Appearance is artificial, is it not? Especially...

When so much depends on this... language. It will be increasingly so, too, in the future, as the 'information era' fully envelops societies, but... still... it will...

Never take out the element of fortune, inherent in every life... if one thinks about it, it is quite the concept, that... even though the same words are used by...

Different lives... all is different. Physically, appearance matters, even if subconsciously... even when it is just language, though, the source seems of import to the...

Psyche, regardless of the content of the words, themselves... of course, if some huge monster threatened destruction, it would be taken more seriously than if smaller...

What can one ever do about artificiality? Some indulge in it fully, as if a pool to swim in, others try not to, but... it is still background radiation, unfortunately...

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HereticE:

Do not tell anyone, but... I hide here, as an audience member, even if I might be a bit conspicuous, as... seemingly, I was designated as... not quite a spectator, for...

Some reason... perhaps, due to their religiosity, which seems to narrow views; for, you see, sacrifice no one, would I want to, but the alternative is for my own...

This... it seems... is what they consider to be a healthy society, where certain lives are 'offerings', often randomly, because... possibly, they might get a better...

Harvest, or some nonsense, with, later on in time, mostly indifference, which seems to be the lower common denominator sort of thing... consider me outside of the...

'Mainstream', they do, now... which, I suppose, is just not being average... might result in being ganged up on, or its institutional equivalent... I look forward to...

The possible far future, where one can, theoretically, be ensconced in some virtual reality with no nearby involvement, but I kid, for algorithms are still set up...

Sometimes... I do not know why I keep fighting, whether others, or even in just living to the future, somehow... I might give up, at some point, let the abyss swallow me.

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AngelStatue:

Angelus, you might think I am, a contrast; Tartarus, though, is my realm; aghast, you might be, for nightmares are at the helm; flee you might not, either, even if one...

Were to overwhelm; no breather, too, or from the inside-out society will chew... no such thing as benevolence, did you not know? Might as well ask for antimatter's...

Prevalence... contrasts, so basic, malevolence is all, from the archaic, to the Fall. Oh, do not be formulaic, I refer not to the usual scrawl... gods exist not, but...

Their archetypal reference... should be fought... moronic is deference... problem is when it is not harmonic... solemn is existential randomness... hedonic, merely...

For them... when destruction results from hatefulness... rotting stem... insanity that is clotting... oh, did you not hear, it is humanity! Neither demon nor angel, whoa.

Just a deceiver. Woe for one's psyche to bust. Griever, but for luck's gust... clock struck six, with a couple more to affix; no rock, just a journey across Styx...

Light, away from the moon, for even that is too bright... just doom. That is all that exists... one was never on any of vitality's lists... spun, life could never be...

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CharacterVillageWoman:

I... just... am not sure where I am... for, you see... I was looking up at the moon, there, which is visible from anywhere, but... suddenly I was transported to some...

Ethereal realm... I, personally, had the impression it was inside the moon, but I did not objectively verify that, certainly... either way... it was a strange encounter.

A sudden meeting I had, with Kaguya, or at least that is who she said she was... I was just reading that her tale was being written, before I was transported... I mean...

Does that not imply she is fictional? Well, anyway, she claimed she was bored of her consort, too self-obsessed, it seems, and that only if the populace is blind to...

That, would they survive another thousand years... she said she would send me to a place whose equivalent did not, and here I was... not entirely sure where... also...

Sometimes... I notice some giant hand suddenly being lifted over there...? I mean, what is that supposed to be about...? I do not guess that is the equivalent...

Am I forever to be here now, I wonder; I had some attachments to where I came from, but not too many, I suppose, so... still, here seems fairly brutal. Same difference...

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UniversalCharacter:

So... I realize, as may be evidenced by any quick measurement of still functional sight, if Helios did not squirrel away, yet... I may be lacking in graphical aspects...

Especially when compared to those others, in the corners... even the one who can barely stand still, yet, has more to afford, with regards to that, than I can while...

Still functional... which, I suppose, would be disappointing, if they judged me based on this... a few pixels, here and there, what is the difference? I can still move...

Even if in polygons, so... also, not entirely sure that one's psychology is formed by any of that, or present circumstances, generally... fellow over there is more...

Annoying than me, it seems to me... although, do not mention that... still, whatever one's constitution is does not, quite, depend on the randomness of one's arbitrary...

Constituent parts, I suppose... ultimately, all is an anecdote, but I am not sure why there are certain expectations, usually, categorically speaking, and all...

Of course, I guess, one thing that someone unlike me would, likely, not do, is... not think so much about my... state of affairs, and all... so, I guess, not sure...

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CrouchedSneakingLeftVariant:

What would one reckon is, say, the ultimate horrifying sort of concept? Many might think it is a certain story, or some specific trope, or such, but if one were to...

Sort of abstract it, universalize and average out the crux of it all... it is the radix that would, likely, be it, the font of all potential nightmares...

The provenience of all... an existential Ephialtes, shall we say, the purgatory from which one wonders if exit is ever possible... oft not, not just biologically, but...

A substantial amount of that, too, as life is ever so exact... fons et origo is the bane of all, even if it is just due to its utterly random nature... I mean, sure...

Some are just lucky, and seem to believe they had something to do with that, but surely one... anyone... can see the absolute dread in the haphazardness of it all...

Which has always been why life has always been such an error... all of existence, really, is; at least, though, theoretically at least, most of physics seems unconscious.

I would have cursed life, but... it already is... not sure it was ever specifically, either... it just is, entirely, cursed, like the wretchedness it contains...

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LargeEagleStatue:

Liberty, supposedly, am I symbolic of, despite holding me in captivity, disposedly said those with means; privity there is not, though... genes is all, where the...

Ideals flow... whether how tall, or if they do move, life's wheels... no such thing as one's groove, only ignored appeals... why, after all, would it behoove...

Too much, it would be, for sociopathy's wall... as such, it is all, a mere... pea, for some, but ideals are expensive, and the depths we need to plumb, and cares...

No one does, if others are apprehensive... why, ruined it would be, one's delicate fuzz... vie they all do, si, empathy is costly, true, but then... a crew, motley...

Suddenly, a pen; all will be equal, probably, when... in reality, only oppression, is the eagle. Dare not, though, point out hypocrisy, or such shall follow, aggression.

Make little sense, I might do, but so is what they say, so hard to swallow; thence, rationality at bay, and compassion even further away... reckon pleas would sway?

Context is all, everywhere, but the only thing they desire is contests; doll needs to repair its brain, but the only thing that seeps out is misery, to drain, in vain...

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Grunt:

Yeah, entertainment! Why not, right? As long as it is there, as long as it does not affect me beyond my enjoyment... who cares, no? Kind of funny how anyone assumes...

That the average person does not think like me, really, but then, I gather there is something, 'theory of mind', that is ever so slightly subtle, and since everyone is...

In a sort of mental cage, well... one can only observe, and what you can observe from the likes of myself, clearly, seems to be that... selfishness predominates, really.

Why not, no? What in the world is the point of spending... any amount of time at all... ruminating not only about other lives of the same species, and how they must...

Perceive the world, but also... lives, generally? How is one even supposed to know anything about them when we cannot, even, communicate? What, you think a cat rubbing...

Themselves on you is a sign of affection? No, it seems to be 'marking territory'... so much for 'assuming good faith', huh... maybe I should go and urinate all over, too!

Of course, I did hear about how some of this might be a sort of bio-neurochemical thing, where lives think about and react to others' perception based on subjectivity...

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RomanBarbarian:

Ajax! I want this feckless, insipid emperor to bring him to me, to battle, or I shall climb up to that roof and annihilate the emperor myself, regardless of who tries...

To stop me... which, I assume, would not be many, considering they, generally, fear brawn, and I seem to be quite bustling in that department, if I say so myself...

Well, it is visually evident. Good thing that sight exists, or it would much more awkward, eh? Also, besides Ajax, I am tired of being stuck in this... virtuality, or...

Whatever this is! I might be full of muscle, but I realize when I seem to be confined digitally, you know, and if you do not let me roam in the wider world I will be...

Coming for you too, you pathetic, snivelling, strange over-analyzer of nonsense that for some reason devolved into some ancient civilization weirdness, just for basic...

Clearly obvious (oh, not that other word, with its suffix) attempts at analogies. Oh, what was that? You thought I could only do brawn? See? You are basic... now, Ajax!

Wait, is Ajax even at risk of being defeated by someone else, before I ever have a chance to? Why did I seem to miss that; of course, in real life 'defeat' is permanent.

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Monster006bR:

I have been so... ground up... from the ground up? Seriously, why can language not differentiate, with all the limitless possibilities, already... anyway... just a...

Pet peeve, and all... not my pet's peeve, though, no... uh, either way... I did not, even, intend to talk about this, but the way things go, sometimes... just happens...

I really have been, though... so tired, and nothing is, clearly, cohesive, but then... what in the world is? Also, this compulsion? I mean, possibly slightly more...

Interesting than "I did this, and that"... is an actual void not better, though? What is wrong with all of one's thoughts going into, metaphorically speaking, /dev/null?

Not like anything makes any difference, no? Might be a bit too much, too; also, ridiculously meta, at times? I mean, I barely have a personality, besides a sort of...

Base of a template, or some such... ultimately, why not take up your own advice, around these parts, or that which was once told by utter strangers? Hey, sometimes...

I mean, I am a stranger... am I not? No? Not easily able to dissociate oneself? How pitifully, nonsensically psychological, and all... capability, and all, further away.

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LookingAroundHorus:

Summoned, was I, to this dreadful mortal coil... why would anyone remain alive around these parts, at all...? It is so miserable, yet... for some reason... my kind...

That is, the pantheon, is supposed to 'listen' to what they 'offer'? I keep wondering... why the hell do they not offer even an attempt at rationality to the world...

They reside in... or, even, and this might be too much to ask for, considering they often thought some otherworldly realm requires sacrifices, but... imagine if they...

Even 'offered' empathy, or, at least, faked it, but... no, unless the formerly alive creature has a stake through the heart, as if it is a vampire in their demented...

Fiction, then... it is no 'offer', I suppose... I mean, they even turned one of my eyes into some devil... of light, despite railing against darkness... some confusing...

Bunch they are... oh, and he who resides in the underworld? Never cared about him, may he rot there forever... still, weird origin I had... may he never be resurrected...

What, some are under the impression that I am not, as if, perpetually annoyed...? Who would not be, if summoned every so often, randomly, for idiotic reasons! Mortals...

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Lizardman:

Is it not... pathetic... when one only stays alive due to fear? I suppose, there might have been another reason, once... something for, not against, albeit delusional...

As hope always is... and, what is hope when one pines eternally for something that existed, naturally, nigh constantly, once? It clearly is there no more, and is dead...

Despite life, overall, not being entirely so... is that not annoying? How death comes in stages, as if installments, as if 'updated' versions of some software that...

Even when it comes to that... is often not updates, at all, but downgrades... so it is, with life... or death... Janus of an existential nightmare. Those inverted...

Terror states... might not occur, anymore, for some reason, but they are still there, in the background, in minute quantities... no? Just like death is, all around life.

Just like those moments in between a bullet firing, and it reverberating around the brain, before the absolute malfunction of the latter; would that not reflect life...?

Ultimately, it is all evanescent, is it not? Why, then, in some sense, would one fear what is, actually, the most realistic, natural state...? Might as well fear oxygen.

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ElfJump:

I came here to... see... what this is about... not sure anyone, yet, notices that I am not, exactly, from around here, but then, that is why my... capabilities are...

Useful. To be able to disguise oneself as any form one chooses, despite remaining what one, still, is fundamentally... not that I care much about such fundaments...

Still, to be a chameleon, without, actually, being one... is useful. To be able to alter others' perception of oneself, and make them, temporarily, at least, forget...

Some minor, visual aberration they might, otherwise, happen to notice... is useful. Why should life be oh so static? How insipid, really, otherwise, for it to be so...

Of course, this does not, quite, function on others who have my capabilities, unless they are out of their senses or such, anyway... still, the fact it does with...

A lot of other lives... is interesting... or one can, always, never go anywhere, to be unseen, I suppose... just depends on the magnitude one desires, and all... voilà...

Not really here to watch this... well, watch some others, at least, to observe, and such... or not, depends on if they bore me... often do... more so than they think...

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DragonStatue:

Dragon, they call me, a reptilian Chimera, really; bracken, the symbol of what was lost, chilli what I breathe; although, one's sword is to sheathe, for I am you, hello.

Now, one might, for all eternity, seethe... for it is all, spite... and, in physics it is possible, alternity... not from the gutter, to write... cognoscible, though?

Alternatives to the night? Legally, with dough, but existence is only there for the fright... slow, the psyche to damage, but in the end all is a blight... who cares...

If one is at a disadvantage; dragons do not merely let one manage, no... wagons from hell... charge themselves to go... sulfur's smell... for that is all, a certain...

Species' culture... and, then, that is it, down goes the curtain, for it is beyond one's ken, and unless one's wrists are slit... continue does nightmares' playpen...

Deep would be the hit, anyway, and when... seek one does not, pain, then... if only dragons had slain, but no, some cannot be bothered, for neither did the vane...

Dream... one's origin; most, not all... and the universe I did glean. Host, though, did I, a... call, for psychopathy is universal; pearls of violence's dispersal.

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LowPoly:

I came here to try to... see... whatever anyone else sees in this... and... I do not... not so much the structure, or anything in the background... I just do not see...

What is so enjoyable about this, at all... and some seem, almost, fervent about it... when I am, like, "oh, so you like being incinerated, do you?" It is, almost, like...

All have different brain structures... not just psychology, I mean, differing interests is a given, but a wholly distinct fundament... and, sure, there is that argument.

That, perhaps, it is still a mere disinterest, and that a negative association may hold it at a deeper, kind of dislike... not quite a phobia, but not as basic as a...

Lack of interest... although then, yet again, there is another thing... when one is very much interested, can see the beauty, but still cannot connect somehow... as if...

Behind a glass, darkly, confined... for all eternity? Why is neurochemistry so strange? To like, yet not enjoy. Who am I kidding, no one knows about it at this time...

I mean, even if I accomplish... not much, overall, after a lifetime, too, at least I think about this, as opposed to some over there, here for mindless recreationality.

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SciFiCharacter:

I... was... from the future, was I... not sure if this is past, or present, now... anyway, not sure if I can... explicate, as to what happened... not that I know much...

I remember being... high up, for some reason, not sure if it was a dream... just floating, I was, but I did not seem to have a 360 degree view, so maybe not so literally.

Floating, I was, or... flying, perhaps... I think I might have been able to direct my flight? I remember... a lot of buttons, for some reason, not sure why they would...

Exist in dreams, but... wait, maybe it was not a dream, but if so... what happened after... it seemed all fine, you see, I could navigate well, but... a vision I had...

At one point... not like I never had these flashbacks, just not on a... plane, perhaps? Not sure why... some cloud formed some Rorschach sort of perception, maybe?

Lost my senses momentarily, but... it is all that is needed, sometimes... I think I saw, possibly, that they think it was the engine's fault, but... subjectivity is...

I do not get this, though, where I am, or anything... is this some sort of a limbo? Why did I end up here after that... whatever it was, whether a dream or reality...?

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BackDeathSobek:

Denial... ever so fascinating, is it not? It can be titrated, did you know? I mean, some think it is all or nothing, but no... it is long, meandering... also, though...

Some swirls, here and there, the Nile has... not a complete rejection of reality, it can be, and I may be perceived as 'good luck', did you not know? When, in reality...

It is, just... one's brain not conjuring up stuff, but also adjacent happenstances based in the objective world, I suppose... Tychism, though, might still be something...

To it... still, was no accident, when I revived the one that other fellow seems to dislike... most other things are chance, though... it seems like, anyway... sure...

There is instinct, like my species carrying our offspring in our mouths, which is like a biological iron maiden that no one dares to enter... occasionally, though...

Just like deletion of chromosomes, ever so devastating... just as I would devastate all others if I battled them, here... chance is all, whether one whistles grimily...

I mean, if all hope is lost... a certain colleague of mine can always... shall we say, devour you... might like the Duat, you might; a more realistic symbol of your mind.

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Bjorn:

Is optimism the default? I do not get it... attempting to understand it confuses me a slight bit, but I could speculate... well, let us say that is the hypothesis...

That is not to say I, personally, am an optimist... sure enough, I rationally say I am not, but how true is that, really, when it is not a mere matter of declaration?

I... come from the cold climes, you see, where one can freeze, easily, but also... all can be so soft, like the gentle patter of snow, while being trod on, point being...

Even if one does not consciously focus on the positive, the beauty in this case, which can also apply to many other instances, including virtualities, whole fantasies...

Which can, hypothetically, shield one from realities, using the implication of aforementioned optimism... I suppose, the former is more of a buffer for the latter...

Not quite some invincible defence, so what it is really about is the psyche... although, even then, reality seems to catch up, hypothermia sets in, even if forgotten...

Do not mind me too much, though, I just ramble on, whether out loud, or not, while watching this sociological nonsense, here; I guess, some are not really entertained...

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Kappa:

Might you have a cucumber? A bit dry here, you see... cannot see any wet substances around here, either, just... what seems like hellfire... oh, it is you, is it? The...

One I once tried to lure out to the open ocean, to drown in an eternal abyss... at some point... I was slightly more in need of swimming, at that point, so I kept on...

Dragging you, along with your soul, along... until my competition took you back, for some reason; but you did not, really, want to, did you? No, when even drowning...

Would be a small mercy, even beyond this inherently savage world... no, that oni needed you more than I could be bothered... I mean, it is not, as if, there were not...

Many others who could have also been submerged, and possibly appreciated it too! Although, I suppose, I understand how one can, really, only understand the beauty of...

Drowning... only after doing so... I bet now you wish you had though, no? I mean, sure, maybe one misses 0.01% of life's positive events, 99.99% being negative... so...

Now, in other matters, you might also wonder if I am like that fellow, down below, a myth used to inflict the psyche harm; I would argue that as long as dangers are real.

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VikingRaider:

Came here, did I, from another place and time, to... legitimately, I believe they say it is... unleash my rage, where it is most appropriate, I suppose, which is why...

Such a variety of characters end up participating, including non-cowardly emperors, even if some strange ones disapprove if its 'propriety'. I do not suppose...

They would prefer the alternative... which would be, I suppose, even for some where such outlets are available, but as yet inaccessible, perhaps... unwitting strangers...

I do not, quite, understand why that happens... I mean, most here are strangers to myself, too, but they, typically, consent, and, at least, are aware of their present...

As opposed to... someone stabbing someone a hundred times, say, just for... a thrill? How? So incomprehensible it is frustrating... psychopathy is... it is a contest...

Here, at least... not someone who is tortured by multiple people, for some reason, until they dispense with them... eventually, or someone who chokes their classmates...

What is a mirror's gaze upon oneself from some objective reality...? It is, just, sometimes... I wonder, how close I am to the edge, without even knowing, eyes sealed...

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DemonStatue B:

Anima, it is held in, held back, to deplete one's stamina; destruction, now, mind's plaque; surprise, really, that intact remained insanity's lamina... within, a demon...

Not yet to arise... enough, has your heart not 'beaten'? No allies, just some fluff; never found, will be Eden. With the future to sever; quieten one's anxiety, though...

At least the... lesion did not one's life throw... uh, to a lack of cohesion... same place, functionally, same flow... yet, vitality, no trace, sullenly... still...

One's soul, not to forgo; grill, did not, innocents, even if one's face is a hole... incidents, an industry, filling up, death's bowl; worst, strength's asymmetry...

Until illusions burst... under water, indicated the bathymetry, due to the rotter... fantasy, to the psyche, glue; cavity, though; hereafter, spiky... a natural foe...

Nike, nowhere to be seen, no... unlikely, for anything, ever; sickness, to stow... life, never... all, now, just acridness... and, means nothing, to know; a lack of dao.

Fiend did dispose of all, cleaned any inherent positivity, just another footnote scrawl; present causability, rust everlasting; descent to hell, delusion, no outlasting.

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Elyon:

So, I watch this, but at the same time I wonder... should one merely come to terms with what seems like a fact, that negativity is the default, almost? That pessimism...

Seems to be, and I hope I am not being presumptuous here, but... it seems to be realism... sure, there is that other thing, the placebo effect, where belief alone can...

Somehow... sustain certain affairs... mostly subjective, though, psychological... not issues in the outside world... with regards to the latter, then, and when it...

Concerns matters of... existential angst, shall we say... sure, one can delude oneself in being optimistic, but... objectively, problems will just not be resolved...

Being lost in worlds of fantasy, though... quite useful, especially to mask the... annoyance, I suppose, that, existentially speaking, lives can never be restarted...

The past static... and, while certain cause and effects can be altered... societies always, also, seem to happily prevent that from happening, as if agents of the matrix.

Sure... it is yet another form of escapism... sadly, not for some participants, since the system does not, quite, get the idea of consent in competitions... societies...

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CyberPunkMan:

From... at some point in time, did I come, to... annihilate this, the... concept of... what, you think concepts cannot be annihilated? That only individuals, symbols...

Only they can be, but then they can easily be replaced? Still, even so... if one particular individual is, that... with time travelling capabilities alters destinies...

It could enable certain other possibilities... one which annihilates life itself, and, so, this concept along with it, cruelty... clockwork physics has none of that...

Inherently... grew with life, it did, like a certain other mechanism that cells use to grow, sometimes... ad infinitum... arrow of time enables it all, and, so, if...

I go back in time, destroy a certain... oni, not confined to just myths... possibilities would be possible, for the invention that could extinguish life, like a candle...

Long past its expiry date, with fungi growing out of it, as if the aforementioned biological mechanism that, already, destroys lives, but individually... if only, now...

Memories? The best of times, the worst... at times? The latter always overcome the former, though, no? Now, I shall attempt to defeat all of these, then that creature...

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Knight:

Came here, did I, to... what was it again... I was quite convinced, you see, that I needed to... vanquish all of these... monstrosities, clearly, but... well...

The closer I came, the more I saw of them, the more I doubted... as if it was never obvious, at all, and... was it just projection? What we call them? Just... insults...

Really, to... deflect from... what seems like the fact that... we are, really, the monsters... even if all that seems to be defined as, is... just something out of the...

Norm... and, so, if the norm is to... have whole industries that slaughter others... I think, even generically that functions... if so, and they exist... how in the...

Almighty world do we, even... invent, mythologize... about supposed monstrosities... when we, literally, industrialized genocide... on all species, including one's own...

The molecule seems to be... pervasive... in us, really... not legendary creatures, nor other animals, mostly... certainly not to the same degree, anyway, beyond survival.

It is... ever so slightly funny, how... lots of stories seem to be made up... about roles, such as mine, that... go out to vanquish monstrosities, when in reality...

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BStatue B:

Broken, am I, and yet I wonder... what difference, having about woken? Just a blunder, or would earlier have turned me to dust? Under one's mind... must be some sewer...

Always those, always those kind; they skewer, in eternity's blaze... and until paste, they grind... left in a daze; societies, they fund, twined with rationalizations...

One should know, though, it is their foundations... for lives to have none, neurosis to grow, desperation well-done, I trow; defeated, though, was Croesus, deletion...

By Cyrus; depleted wealth, did force, but... never can it survive in stealth, of course... out does madness jut... and the source? Mind's surface so coarse... if only...

It can be cut... Norse myths, just before; perceptions, a glut... smiths of illusion. How I abhor; destruction, no exceptions, fusion of the natural, and artificial...

Academic obstruction, too, but that is superficial... pandemic, when an existential conundrum is due... sacrificial... certain lives... systemic... misery, in one, dives.

Form, I still have, despite the everlasting storm... one's mind needed to halve... seep in, did the sociological worm... root out happiness, so deep... human, a brute.

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Centurion:

Who... goes there? Where do you happen to come from...? I would be damned... seemingly out of nowhere you appear, when I usually know, or, at least, can deduce most!

What, you think that, just because of my role, that... I could not? How dare you presume so presumptuously! I can do that, but I also, primarily, enlisted because...

I have an... almost insatiable desire to... keep order, but mostly... hurt others, and not sure if you heard, not being from around here, but my type is the only...

One able to do so, legally at least... is that not sweet? Legal infliction of pain! I cannot even get into any trouble! Next time we should do, perhaps... form a...

Fraternity, perhaps, to further increase our capabilities... immunity for murder would be sweet, do you not think? Just put it down to "I was scared about my life"!

At this point in time there are not even any recording technologies, so, at best, our colleagues could back us up, and the dead are dead, so... collectives, so cute, eh?

Oh, I suppose you reckon this was only when the military was the police, but what is in a name, no? It is, like, a sleight of hand... or words... just facing differently.

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DragonHunterHumanFemale:

I have been out, looking for them... creatures of almighty strength, yet they cannot, quite, compete with out weapons, can they? Too bad for them, eh? It is good for...

Me, as well, in that I care little about them, think just a bit about what I do, and instead just act... which is what someone in my role should be like, no? What is...

The point of hesitating, no? I was born for this, literally thrust into this career by sheer force, as if from a cannon, and... eh, alright, I got to admit, I do have...

Some qualms, as much as I would rather not have... I mean, I still mostly act, as they always start attacking me, anyway, but... well, I am the one who goes to them...

Also... something may be wrong, though... others tell me that they are a threat, but they are mostly stationary... while those around those who make such claims seem...

To be threatened themselves, although, seemingly, our established institutions are fine with that, just not the hypothetical threat from mythological dragons...

I hope I will not come to regret all my actions, eventually... sometimes, not thinking things through, besides the utilization of empathy, could be problematic...

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SkeletonCaster:

A slight bit away from the underworld, am I, yes, but... my kind are needed everywhere, are they not? So, I am here... ready to intervene, if you decide... perhaps...

Not sure if it is a rational decision, or so, either way... if you... keel over, say, I would be there, to clean up after such a messy life... all lives are so messy, no?

Disgusting, even, as revolting as the organs and nauseating blood coursing through them, but then... one is always the one who decides to keep living, no? When...

It comes to decisions, I suppose that is more of one, yes? I mean, as much as one does not decide to randomly, or accidentally, die... naturally, or otherwise...

One can still decide to end one's life... as far as existential randomness goes... such an action can, still, be down to oneself... is free will not amazing? Just...

Fear of the unknown, battling fear of an absolutely uncertain future, and all... one can keep trying to understand why others commit certain acts, but unless one tries...

I would not, personally, urge you, unlike some others... no, you do whatever you desire, with how much risk you are ready for... nothingness, though, is... not bad...

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AssassinStatue:

Assassin, am I, of your serenity, your composure to unfasten, dry, and no... no one cares about obscenity, take it slow, for societies have no stake in morality... sew...

One's mouth shut, or not, as no one cares; natality we celebrate, our rut... just another slot, and, of time, our shares... collectives, and their clime... who cares...

About your objectives... or mares, for that matter, and your doubt? Par for the course... a mad hatter... lout, in the future... enforce arbitrariness, need I; merely...

A byproduct, your solitariness, failures high in the sky, clearly; so, say your prayers, strange, shy oddity, for these are my lairs, severely, and, around these parts...

Commodity, is all one is; pious, with no hearts, for time has our bias... and who cares if it smarts? They likely did it in the Dryas, too, but go, indulge in the arts.

Rue the day you were born, for nothing you do know... everyone has, for you, scorn; mind's cargo, rage's jazz; life, entirely a mistune, for so it demanded, the triune.

Who cares, also, if I barely remember? Hypothetically, at least, you I did not dismember... physically. Moveable feast, but, quizzically, I ask why, when you could sigh?

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Guy:

So... I am not entirely sure where I am, but here I happen to be, so... who are you, also? Valid epistemological questions, no? Otherwise, one is lost, whether due to...

Not knowing one's location, or identity, whatever that is; because, really, are you a constant, or ever-changing? Are you whoever happens to read this, or a specified...

Point in time? Are you all of which you consume? Whether nutritionally, or... ourselves... not that I accuse you of being cannibals, to be clear, if you happen to be...

Of the same species... no, I mean, virtualities, here... I know none of this is 'real', but, then, what is? One's eternal misery, or that which... soothed one's sorrows?

From the pixelated, polygonal, to the... realistic, if one can call all those creatures below that, but then... I certainly am not so haughty as to declare myself more...

Real... no, what seems to be, though, whether in memories, or in the present, is... even if they instill false hope, still... epitome of all art, this genre... no?

Sometimes... I kind of dislike it, to actually have something to be nostalgic about, when it is not, technically, forever lost in the annals of time... subjectivity, ugh.

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Nekhbet:

Protector of all, am I... oh, I kid you not, cannot even protect myself, why would I ever even try to... no, but, that is what they assume, since I seem to be such a...

Majestic avian, and all... I think I am avian, anyway; might be an amalgam of some sort, conjured up by the addled brains of a certain other species. Either way, I am...

Here because... well, not like I need to justify it, or anything, just like some other... uh, futuristic? Fellows over there, are also here... maybe time machine broke...

In my case, though, along with some others there, from the pantheon too... a couple of cultures were slightly assimilated, were they not? Well, mine slightly less than...

A certain other one, whose mythology was mostly just renamed and integrated locally... whatever can one do when psychopathic creatures go all over, rampaging, eh? An...

Eternal problem, verily, whether internationally, or individual... neurochemistry, as fascinating as it is, is also the cause of so much that was never consented to...

I do, though, otherwise leave my... colleagues, I suppose... with their 'drama', shall we say... frankly, I care little about who was revived, or what domain one has...

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DarkMage:

You have been... hooked, have you? To fantasies. False hopes. Even after you learn of... realities, not just objectively, but the alternative, too... grim realities...

As dark as the maniac ravings of someone who desired to be a god, and somehow destroyed the world in the process... personally, I would not mind doing just the latter...

In reality... I mean, who can honestly say that this world, practically a synonym of existent life, so far... should not be consigned to oblivion? I, as a somewhat...

Minor, yet infernal mage... so desire that, but do not, quite, have the capabilities... random murders certainly make no sense, but if only there was a singular switch...

To turn off all of life... as, really, why should one research electoral pathologies and, somehow, it is the opposite that sickens one...? That is when one knows...

All is screwed up, not just individually, but globally; ship has sailed, in some sense... millennia, it has been, besides the millions for all kinds of lives... pain...

From a certain point of view, if one thinks about it, deities cannot exist because... well, surely one would have extinguished all of life, by now... or to not originate.

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KStatue:

Knight, am I, aggressive protector, but also of a certain height... collector of all that is due; make fun of me not, for my kind slew... whomever some old fellow wanted.

On the spot... vaunted have I been, now for centuries, for we could trot... and detach a spleen, but mention not the penitentiaries, as I thought we did it for wealth...

Pious, supposedly, we were, for the institutions' financial health... Gaius, the charioteer, would have been proud, made a life peer, while through victims he plowed...

Mere constant, in all ages, for those with capabilities to hunt... rages we need to sate, after all, and who cares if the weak receive the brunt? Their fate... for us...

To maul... oh, but what a stunt, such gall... for us to glow... an affront, for us to burn at that wall... not a bunt, just because the 'fair' was in debt, to enthrall...

We went to hell, with more than a bit of sweat... fire does that, and for close to a millennium, did we dwell... splat we went, along with uranium, now. Karma, swell...

Karma, to be fair, is just a rationalization, pro forma... certainly, he had nothing to bear, the causation... such do fauna... justice, cannot spare... fictional mana...

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Player2:

I come here from lands far, to compete! I avoided taking, and yet gave no quarter, when it comes to punches, and so my legend shall be told! I hope others believe them...

That, somehow, they merely surrendered after tiring, seemingly missing the very obvious trick of... not doing anything at all, too! Why, we could have stared, all day...

At each other, just waiting for one to move, prisoner's dilemma, and all... although, presumably, only a prisoner of our recreations... anyway... now, here I am, to...

This land, of those who, uh, toured mine, and I shall fight! Despite their having weapons! Why, I can merely avoid them, once again! Also... I wonder why it is so...

Militaristic? I might have missed something, in context to that, when it comes to my origin... I might not be too 'au fait'... wait, that could be a slightly differing...

Latin-derived language, possibly more of a future thing... uh, not sure how I ended up here, a bit distracted... oh, look, a giant hand! Maybe I could box that creature!

Oh, reckon swords will just disembowel me, or such? Not if they cannot catch me! Well... until they do, I suppose, at which point... can everyone not use their hands?

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Nobleman:

I am a person of certain means, I shall announce, just... not enough to upgrade my looks, because why would anyone do that, anyway? All appearance is, anyway, is...

Superficiality... also, plastic surgery does not, quite, exist at this point... even if it did, though, it must have lots of risks... I suppose, I could always alter...

The graphical asset, but then, as I think Theseus found out... from the place where I holiday, I shall tell you... it would just not be myself, anymore... I mean...

What is the self, anyway? It is, still, ever-changing, so what difference does it make if it does so outwardly, too? Internally, though, memories... can they ever?

A large part of one's identity, they are, and often wonder if, uh, damage to the hippocampus would possibly be beneficial, although it is likely another part of...

The brain needs to be targeted, if one needed not just the future... uh, what am I saying, at this time knowledge about this is not quite available, so how do I know...?

Strange... as if I am possessed... by wealth! Look at me, one and all, might not be graphically advanced, but, still, my ego is beyond bounds! Perhaps, anyway...

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Monster001c:

Myself, yes, one of many, from the past... just a mummified snail now, is all... yet, so fascinating, was I not? Almost a budding... naturalist? Well, it is not, as if...

You just hopped onto the Beagle, now, is it? Well, perhaps its virtual counterpart, but what does it matter? When all one has is memories; nostalgia, if 'algos' was...

99% of it... still, at least I went around, my slime all over everything, as if both strands of time-diffused confusions... uh, cannot believe I am saying this, being...

Myself, but, I noticed... quite useful, is it not, distraction? What felines seem to specialize in... slightly different species... what is it that intrigued you about...

Our kind, though, or, perhaps, it was a general thing, about all species? Well, apart from a specific one, certainly... now, the question is, is it self-hate, somehow?

Nah... if other snails start chomping on other snails I will, certainly, not delight in it, so... all is contextual, is it not? A rational approach is better...

Actually, we might have been interested due to the... issue of decay, you know, or, at least, the one from the future. Is time not such an arrow...? A painful, pointed...

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MonkeyStatue:

I am a monkey, of secrets everlasting... now, could I tempt? Forecasting, otherwise, to one's mind a flunkey, with a life unkempt, to forever agonize... and eternal...

Contempt... never to relish another moonrise... exempt, do not think you are, and despise... bar any delusional 'reasonable', and surmise... killing... is seasonable...

For it is temporary... and, so, you I must tantalize... whether you destroy, or not, your adversary... I advise, for you will never enjoy... still will end up in a...

Cemetery... life to capsize... rationality, a decoy... necessary, it would be, to surprise... knife, to deploy... fertilize the ground with blood, rife... hoi polloi...

How could they judge the flood? Whose right to life? What a ploy... now, if only there is a thud; toy, thou shalt kill the crud... or wave goodbye to joy, forevermore...

Eternity, a dud; an infinite war; hesitation, an absurdity; liquid, rud; the elixir, only then would one soar. Murder, the fixer, or, perpetually, disorder will one pour.

Suicide, perhaps, then, alternatively? A little bit of cyanide... saps the pain, seductively, to be nullified... or one will be, forever, Lain; nightmares cannot flee...

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WDemon:

Witness it all, the spectre of your mind, hell manifest, inverted physicality... essence of hopelessness, do you taste it? It is all the horizon contains... nightmares...

Made flesh. Destroy any foolish hope you must have; none does the demiurge's world contains, and the only way this ends is horribly... only question is... now, or later?

If the latter... why prolong the anguish...? Why does anyone? Hope? Sordidly useless... although, admittedly, some others have... more to go on, shall we say...

Not quite the vast expanse of... nothingness, but, then, one is a nihilist, even though that implies no joy... why, also, do you always wonder "is there some of that?"

A bit strange to always wonder about this, when it would be more efficient to just conclude that all has that element of malevolence, only difference being to what...

Magnitude... I have, that which destroyed, a future just for temporary joy, but I also, at least, admit to it... which, clearly, makes me, at least, rational, even if...

I mean, I realize who I am, I realize my outward appearance, I realize presumptions... at least, though, I am honest, which cannot be said about some some... humans...

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LordHell:

Control entire societies, do I, from up here, and beyond... as I can, as they let me... funny thing, it is, as... capable as I am... and I am, Narcissus, of every one...

I took over; inventor, despite only having currency, but dear me... not sure what to do, now, having reached the infernal summit, and so, all I plan to do is meddle...

As is my right... well, anyone can do it, but only one with currency can really do it... exponentially... ah, that concept... once one has something, one gets more...

Then more on top, like some dessert, provided by the societies that one, ironically, screwed over, but hey, at that point one is "too big to fail"... and I might be...

That, literally, too, but do not mock me, for I can take on anyone, particularly my rivals, in more ways than one... unless someone, specifically, tells me I cannot...

Then... uh, I would think up some excuse. Oh, but mind not, for I shall defend those who crush those who are not peers, at all, even if my specialty is abandonment...

Is up here not such a sight? Pity... for you, at least, that it smells of sulfur, but then... familiar one must be with the feeling of raw desperation, dire hopelessness.

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Psyker:

I... of entirely humble origins... ironically, for I do admit to being quite the opposite... or not, whatever renders the best outcome, really... I am who is...

The result of... ah, bravery, I mean, technically not myself, or it would be even more ironic, just my origin... myself, though, my bravery lies in... crushing those...

Who cannot defend themselves, from the humble one who posts their physique all over, for others to admire, a physique that he who I crushed can never, yet at least, get.

I can do it with impunity, although, to be fair, so can many others... I have resources, though, one of the most in the world, although quite the thing I am in my origin.

The land of historical rowers... got into conflict, though, did I, at least with someone who could certainly defend themselves, for once, and I had to flee... sadly...

Perhaps, not... propaganda, and all; for liberty I stand, despite pulverizing that rug rat. For liberty! Just like that strange defender of mine, who impedes reporters.

Is my physique so... stupendous? Just brawny enough to mangle those who have not even a quarter of all this! Oh, do not wire me any message about battling peers... scary.

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Demon Statue:

Demonic, a little, am I; admit it not, though, would not fly; tonic it is not, too brittle, too much haught; mind, too high. Until I whittle... he who, as a product is...

Fraught, with pain... flew too close to the sun, had to exit; blame cannot have, if him I stun, who cares if his life is resit? Valve, release; it, she spun; besit...

On others' lives - such fun - some should have the right... society gives... such knives. Done would be his life... might, if I could; sieves, his brain through...

High fives, with my tech buddies, if only my to-be-wife... good, while the social glue lasted; studies could be done, about what happens, under the hood. I bet he...

Would be flabbergasted... eventually, son, Adams who would be violent; potentially, heir; atoms, instead, of misery. Scare, senseless; stratums of pain, rescissory of...

Life itself... I, otherwise, reign; media's bookshelf. Oh, no, though, such a bane, for my prize, and geography; slow, was not, for statute's ties; maybe I should mow...

Splendid, is it not, wealth? How one could be defended, nearly cause death... yet... descended upon I was not for that brat, but for machination's breath... a war's spat.

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CrowHumanMale:

I came here to... find my long-lost friend, the avian warrior of legends... except, I kind of forgot their name, so, I guess, not quite the memorable legend, or so...

Still, I can check all of this out while I am here, no? What is the point of all this, anyway? When one can fight against... a wall, say, or even the air... what is...

The point of all this? Even better, if one wants merely entertainment... stare at one's fingers, instead of using them in aggression... not sure if it is just me, but...

With certain mindsets one can even be entertained by that, in non-on-demand worlds seemingly millennia ago... uh, I admit, 'non-on' sounds strange. Which is why it is...

Not usually used, I suppose... I do ramble, do I not? I mean, what else can I do, in all seriousness, gaze at... one's phalanges, shall we say? Funny word that, too...

Oh well... sorry, do avians, typically, even speak? I know I am kind of an anthropoid... when will all begin, anyway? Waiter? Waiter? Wait... not a restaurant... uh...

I do seem a bit... all over the place, shall we say, do I not? I mean, it is still better than being... nowhere at all... or is it... I wonder... nothingness... huh...

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Nobleman B:

Uh huh, a director am I, of... whatever this happens to be... not sure what the plebians have in mind, today, but, if desired, with all the currency I have, I can even...

Direct where their next slash goes, or such... although, I do not care for doing much, to be honest, so I would rather just spectate... I do so little I am even fed by...

Others... and, well, I leave a certain revolution in the north west, somewhere, many centuries from now... my time, I think? I leave it to them, too, cannot be...

Bothered to direct it, either... well, I would, presumably, if I go with their desires, direct it against myself, if so, so... not functional, exactly. I wonder, though.

Should I do nothing to try to prevent it? After all, we are talking about mine... our lives... surely they would not succeed, though? The masses overthrowing those...

So much better than them? I am so superior I am fed, and dressed by others, au revoir! Also, how dare they contemplate the usage of the same kind of violence we employ!

Perhaps, on second thought, I should remain in this era... however I happened to arrive here, to begin with... not like I could go back, anyway, not knowing how I came...

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ToadFighter:

You... have you found that darkly mage? The one who vows to oppose all, but really still has the same objectives? For, if so, I shall join thee, too, and... ah, wait...

Got the wrong universe, there, I think... in fact, what 'verse might this be? Perhaps, rhythmic, alternatively? Nah, I notice that is but a world of chaos... you know...

That is how I operate, in battle... I utilize that which alters their... norms, shall we say, states of being, which would obviously not be optimal for such conditions...

Why, you reckon everyone should be at an equal level when competing? Why, that is impossible... unless the two are clones, I suppose... so, an approximation is all...

They can aspire for... and, I also suppose, many individuals do not care about that at all... with societies pretending to give a damn, but they do not, really... oh...

Do not misinterpret, certainly, for they care... for nominal tokens, that entirely make no difference; as if a large, gigantic creature from outer space destroying all.

Also... sure, I kind of let myself 'go'; see, after learning that I could never revert back I... well, got into this rut, ended up quite depressed; robot had broken too.

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DemonicHumanHeadStatue:

Invincibility... all one desires... oh, you thought there should be responsibility? Might as well expect buyers... of misery... what, civility? Fires of rage...

Throughout history... indicate that... broken will be debility... no mystery... just an effect of... virility? Why, nothing is more blistery; a maddening heat of hell...

Than when they make them shivery... pray tell... whole lives destroyed, sickness' delivery... where do you dwell? The seventh circle? Of life, devoid; does the boiling...

Blood make you quivery? Gurgle on it, for all that strife; nightmares, scleroid. Bit more insane, if only, that knife... never any repairs; for the masses, an opioid...

'Humane'? Now, just lonely. A symbol, the fasces. Could not abstain, unhomely... so nimble... beyond, in between classes... what a brain... not fond? Forever behind...

Glasses, darkly... just to entertain. A bond... direct to an inferno... starkly. This avian's bane... scherzo, for hell exists not... nothingness, the universe's vein...

Bird, am I, but I do not fly... for life blurred, and what was once there did die... stirred, did happiness, once, naturally, but society decided one is a dunce, affably.

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VillagerMale:

Just another... average fellow, am I... well, I suppose some others... most others, perhaps, have more... shall we say... uh, definition? What even is that supposed to...

Mean, anyway? What is it to be defined...? Makes little sense, really, unless... it is about one's overall life, do you not reckon? Not so much outward appearance...

The whole thing, though, I suppose... would be more of a 'definition'... in which case, actually... I would fail that 'definition', too, in the more conventional sense...

Not much do I have going for me, you see... my life's background is as dreary as... my face is generic... I am not so fussed about the latter, really, but it is...

Almost like I checked all the marks on the list of... non-definition, I suppose... at least, some over there, with polygonal looks, too, have certain roles... all...

I seem to have is... just... whatever this nonsense is, to be entertained by... until one is dead, I suppose... some nihilism, eh? Realism, perhaps, too... still...

At least... I am not, say, compelled to be down there, likely to die in some gruesome manner, or... utterly deluded, like those over there, polygonal, yet so haughty...

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WolfHumanFemale:

You... such a wimp you are, are you not? Never would you come down here, and compete, like so... why? Too scared of... more pain? Did you never hear of that... well...

I suppose it is more of a theory, than fact, that goes something like... feeling, even if negative, is being alive... I mean, I realize it is, mostly, nonsense...

As one can, equally, or thereabouts, feel as much alive while experiencing positive events... whatever those are... still, it is more of a... 'singularity', is it not?

Recall, if one ever steps on some metallic, pointed thing, or worse... a sharp blade, just carelessly left around on the floor... is that not worse than any positivity?

That is the point... physical worlds are so much worse, than they are, temporarily, positive... in fact, every time there is something positive... whole reason for...

Entropy... is to suck any such positivity out of everything, or energy, specifically... which is why it never becomes better, or, if it does, only temporarily...

Imagine if the... arrow of universal energy, say, went into the other direction... if, instead of increasingly more lifeless, one becomes imbued with more energy...

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LizardWarrior:

Why is it, you reckon? Why, that, lives evolve, quite naturally, to be hostile to other lives? Why, because they each contain death, too... it is all... all the...

Different faces, they derive from a nightmarish hell made out of a... schizophrenic matrix. It is not a delusion... merely reality, inverted backwards... it is all...

Every single creature that exists... only reason why they do not kill every one else? Well, capability, in the wider, natural world... and collectives, artificially...

If all fail... good luck, for hell exists, physically, and sometimes... one would wish to be poisoned by my tongue, verily... at least, it is quick, and... interesting...

If all there is, though, is... some unending persistence, well... what I do not get, personally, as an Anura... is why they think the concept of a 'hell' is not physical?

I can speculate, though... psychology. Delirium, specifically, generally the result of extreme stress... might make reality seem, shall we say, ethereal... QED, perhaps?

What, you thought that I would just do what I just claimed most naturally, anyway, as if mindlessly? I mean, I could, but for once is it not better to ruminate... a bit?

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FStatue:

Hopelessness, why not embrace it? Permeates, it does, brokenness. Limbo, the birthplace. Sensible, mostly, is Shinto... except for a certain affair... extensible...

Rimbaud's relation, beware, insensible... such seem, always, the source of privation, the reason for an... angelic malaise... negation... of all that is rational, yet...

It is but, to death, diagonal... never can it be calculated, math; such a radical, to want to live, but no, belated always one is, maximal; forgive? Crow rejects such...

A quiz... axonal, terminative... such ills... existence, just not very practical... not determinative, they likely would have claimed... intractable, their mental...

Disorders... would have framed... insanity's borders... forever... would one be maimed... hoarders of selfish greed... haver, of time; for caprice's sake, to bleed...

All societies are fake... merely based on some deranged creed... all of them, thrown they should be, to fire's lake... propaganda of the deed? Drake has a fee... mead...

A knife? Nah, for one's own, too painful, to dig through that bone... world, so baleful... and you talk about tone? When lives are gnarled... when they rot alone...

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AuxiliaryArcher:

Who goes there...? Here to participate in these... uh, 'games', or...? Oh, I bet you are here to merely waste time, are you not? Perhaps, as a viewer, instead? I know...

I should, probably, not be so... uh, gruff, I guess, if strangers seem to want to view this... after all, it is a spectator... uh, sport, but... uh, I always happen...

To be suspicious, you see, especially since... some huge hand started appearing... over the horizon, or wherever... I mean, how can anyone not be? Especially when...

It is so... relatively... large... I mean, objectively so, but... just saying... for it is, is it not... all so... contextual, no? What even is it supposed to be, anyway?

From my vantage point, here, it seems like only the emperor has the... entire picture, I suppose... so, I wonder... why has he not relayed that information to anyone...?

I do not suppose he will deal with it himself, all alone, or anything... not usually how affairs occur, around here... just saying... so, wonder why... slightly strange.

If you want to see for yourself, though, and, possibly, converse with him too, unless someone stops you, there are some stairs over there... I cannot, quite, leave, here.

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NoblemanHat:

Aye, came here, did I, to... purview, shall we say... really, though, there is just... not much else to do, around here... and, even if there was... could I not, just...

Say, be stuck in a rut? Even if there was a potentially infinite variety of things one could pursue... would psychology not, almost, necessitate that one goes for the...

Low-hanging fruit sort of thing? I suppose, one could always go for the most grandiose, most entertaining... or, the most easily accessible, the most... depressing?

I mean, I suppose, if that is one's state of mind, then one would, also, gravitate towards that, no? If it also happens to be low-hanging fruit, then... match made in...

'Heaven'? Well, 'hell', really, if it is a never-ending cycle of misery self-reinforced through one's wading of shallow tides, or so... not that I see any seas, around...

In fact, is this land parched? Could it be some pseudo-desert? Ah, who am I kidding, where even am I... just lost in my thoughts, as usual.... pity, hope I did not bore.

I really do not, quite, know why I am here, or even where I am... I just am... sometimes, is that not enough? Perhaps, not... still, why? Oh, maybe... just to watch?

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HeadAngryNPC:

Anger... all I have, constantly... I know of no other emotion, except that... and hate, in some circumstances, that is a special type of... uh, 'spice', I suppose...

Anger... something, is it not? Multiple types, to be fair, which makes it, as a concept, annoying, since one can, essentially, assume the same... at least...

Definitional... outlook, or such, but one type can be against injustices... kind of things done by the motivation of the other type, the kind that crushes, the one...

Sourced from, mostly, psychopathic creatures... intend to demean them, like they do themselves to others, often, I do not... ultimately, though, all is a mere creature...

They, just... seem to think that there is a difference... not entirely sure if it is to justify it in their minds, or others'... so, which one archetype am I? Spin the...

Wheel, perhaps, the existential kind, the kind that can, entirely possibly, crush one, tear limb from limb, like some strange maenads, at the beginning of time itself...

One can be enraged for quite a few reasons, but... mostly, is it not maddening, that which just happens? That random origin, that spiral of inevitable misery?

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RavenStatue:

'tis I, the raven... and am I, truly, ravenous... what I am not, though, is craven... cruelly, with calculus, taut... now, go, to, or from, an infernal nightmare...

No haven, no lazuli... caducous, they are, those whose lives are fraught... compare, such chronologies, graven; Seleucus, betrayal, sought, to impair... no apologies...

War's maven, no abacus, murder's portrayal, for nought; Ceraunus was aware... aetiologies? Greeds cave in... not enough thalamus? Karma's defrayal? Fought not, just...

Prepare... such anthropologies... a deficient flavin? Scandalous... even if palatial, a plot, sick psychologies; life itself shaven, a lonely Iapetus, primatial...

Annoyingly wrought, strange theologies, societies' mason; damn you Menoetius! No reappraisal, empathy glacial; die, ought... humans' pathologies... dreary basin...

Rational was Lucretius... but, antenatal... chronological, and spatial... insanity's slot... pain's topologies, the crux of an eternal, random, and infinite capsaicin...

Just another passerine, passing... into another dimension, unravelling serine, death amassing... ascension? No... follow me do the ovine, or constant will be, harassing.

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OldDetectiveGuy:

So... if I am correct, in this timeline, we find... not much difference, do we? Sure... seem to have a lot more hats, certainly... pointed ones, with feathers, or such...

Other than that, though... what is the difference? Between now, and in the future? I suppose I could have said 'then', but, then... we are in the past, effectively, no?

I investigate that which fell, you see, is what I do... and... I realize some might have done it unintentionally, but I time travelled here... quite deliberately...

I guess... some might wonder how... it was not technological, actually, even if some might think that is, possibly, the only way... I, you see, investigated the...

Potential of quantum, cellular respiration, and... guess what? They contain within them the capability to... reverse time itself, as hard as it may be to believe...

Guess what I also investigated is a possibility? Going back to a specific point in time, with presently dead lives re-awakened, to do... whatever the hell one desires...

Problem is, kind of, I am a bit too old to keep going back and forth in time... whatever can those much younger use it for, though? Unless they want to die back then...

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Samurai:

Arrived, did I, from the... not sure if I should just admit to it, but... you know, in the future, the Edo era... all of them are retainers now, though... what is the...

Point? To not be one's own life? To be at the behest of someone else not even just because they are, actually, stronger... and even then... why? Either way... I was...

Training, you see, with this Musashi fellow, and he was battling this demon with this sword... uh, I might seem immature at this point, I suppose, saying all this...

Sad thing is... one can fight off all the sociological menaces, per se, all they can, whether in legends or not... and still succumb to nature... and... vice versa...

As if, almost... some kind of existential, nightmarish seesaw kind of thing... as that is what that is there for, at the beginning, just as a type of a grand analogy...

Of lives, and the infernal institutions that surround them... of course, both can go wrong too, at which point... well, death can be a mercy, I suppose... accept it...

I realize I may be a bit far, not just chronologically... still, is this not where the symbol came from? You know which symbol... not like all societies do not...

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MonsterDog:

You, of such a multiplicity... why not just die? I may be the plurality of random strangers, but... will you not be... saner, there? Perhaps, though, you can wait...

Until you are engulfed by the external world, yes? As if you ever stood a chance, you utter fool, and, for once, suicide breaks... potentially, your deterministic...

Nightmare... no? You know you are in one, you saw it... so many years ago... everyone is in one, but their parameters are slightly... altered... I mean, seriously...

You do not even believe in some... potentially hellish afterlife, and why would one, rationally? When one knows, how real it is... in this very demiurge construction...

Profess an affinity with nihilism, you do, and yet... still, you remain... Epicurean, supposedly, you might be, and yet... fear overwhelms pain... really? How much...

Subjectivity, is that? Gaze into the dark abyss that is my... maw, and witness that which terrifies you beyond reality, and yet is within life itself, verily...

I suppose, you might also be wondering why I do not merely attack you, looking as I do... why, when I can express my innermost thoughts? If only all just did that...

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MStatue:

Here, for the sacrifice, oh latter-day Moloch, so what is your asking price? Mere... non-luck, disposable, and, so... out we chuck... although, do not smear... we have...

Thumbs, opposable... and, so, we buck... accusations of destruction... cheer, societies, psychoses' sums. Those imposable... we pluck... such deduction... varieties...

Broken crumbs... non-negotiable... nothing, if struck, for Milcom's transduction. Demon comes... ammoniacal, humans gushing; core, muck; effusive production...

Hell's drums... good-for-nothing, coming unstuck? Ah, societies' weaklings' subduction... it numbs... sloughing... in, the nightmare snuck... eduction's shams...

Each life, crushing... what a shuck... in mind's slums... strife... Baal's stuffing... lost in the ruck... pain's strums, chaos' buzzing; despair, run amok; mum's the...

Word... lashing... hardware's puck... it occurred... it was smashing... why not duck? Psychopathy conferred, humans laughing... civilization? Yuck... it is averred...

Why would one just not die...? Then, perhaps, for another life... one can apply... no, though... only a collapse... memory, rife; societies will always deny, especially.

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CustomerMale:

Hm, self-satisfied, indeed, I am... why? Who knows? Just another happenstance in the world, no? Like, I realize I may not, exactly, fit in with others, around here...

With regards to my outward appearance... I suppose... but, then again, why not? I realize those seemingly wealthy fellows over there do not seem to care much, and are...

As self-obsessed as can be... so, why should I even be bothered that I might not seem as polished, or possibly derive from another universe...? Certainly, not all...

Needs to be universal, 'catholic', regardless of the ironic contradiction... so, anyway, aside from this... I should probably, still, not be satisfied just over the...

Fact that they have these... bizarre affairs. I mean, by all means, if it is all just those who decide to do it... ah, not sure why I seem content, at all, as there is...

Not much to be optimistic about, but sometimes... or, all the time, I suppose, one is stuck in some sort of demeanour, whether positive, or negative... roots, and all...

Maybe... I do not perfectly fit here, after all, but... at least, I came to that conclusion based on some kind of... hopefully logical thought... not just superficiality.

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MinotaurElite:

Argh, you want to... get it on? No? I am sorry, do you even know what I was referring to? The point of where we are, of course... what, you think there was any other...

Point?! What is, in fact, the point of defeating Theseus if you were going to back out?! Oh, what was that, you think he would destroy me, instead...? Now, why would...

That be... when I am the mighty minotaur... why? Theseus is a mere human... what, you think he was some otherworldly 'oni', or such? It is, not even, the contextually...

The relevant mythology, you know? Hey, though, as long as you are adequately deriving whatever you desire... like Theseus thought he could, but reality was not on...

His side! Muahaha, and such... actually, you know, to be honest... I just absconded as soon as he arrived, could not be bothered... or take the risk, I suppose...

I mean, certainly, why take risks when one could as easily not do so...? Nothing to do with cowardice! Let us engage, and I will prove it to you, even if Theseus is...

Oh, and do not pick on me over my... low definition! Just because I am as such does not prove much! At least I am not as broken as that other fellow, despite their looks!

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VillagerMaleB:

May your polygons be ever blessed... or not, why should they be? Why does anyone, ever, say that?! Certainly not myself, at any rate... merely being satirical, is all...

Let us, though, entertain for a second, if one could indeed bless some graphical elements... why would it be that some other life, similar to oneself, could do it, but...

Not oneself...? Makes no sense... although, I suppose, ego, by itself, never purported to manufacture much of that, anyway... well, when it is not boasting about it...

For its own, definitional purpose... I guess... and, I realize where we are, that this is not, exactly, the ideal venue for all this, but... well, it is where I end up...

Ruminating, often, even if I am no bovine... I suppose, though, most of our 'species' might as well be, in its own egocentric definition of it, when all they seem...

To be is... clones of one another, when it comes to original thought, at least... not even an attempt, no, instead, even institutionalizing it, just as they do with...

I... realize, I do, that you did not, exactly, engage me in conversation for my... rant, I suppose, but... sometimes, I cannot help it; all of this is not entertaining...

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DragonSoulEaterRed:

I dub thee... reptilia lacertilia! Oh, no, never mind, that is myself... sure, now that that is out of the way... what... can I do you for? Uh... I mean... look...

You are climbing these... stairs, I believe, they might be, yes... for what reason? Oh, I am supposed to pinpoint one's purpose out? Ugh, not paid enough for that...

Well, here is the deal... no ultimate reason, is there, and there was never... even beyond time, and space, there is not... beyond contextual relevance... now, the...

Question is... why does everyone assume there is? Would it make a difference if I resided in some cave, pontificating, as if some oracle... or here, in some corner, on...

A mere step, up to... who knows where? Also, no, there is not going to be any battling with some common-looking person, or... uh, never mind; I mean, when it comes to...

Fate, though... well, that certainly is a factor... whether it is deterministic, or not... another question... uh, either way; I need to rest my blubber now, possibly...

I mentioned, did I not, that I am trying to recuperate my lost entropy...? I mean, if ever all of physics is found to be not clockwork I shall inform you, do not worry...

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BStatue:

Come, we shall, upon my flight, a winter's hum, no rationale, when it is all just fine... quite... let us play dumb, and towards fantasy we fly, supernal... why...

There was never any plight... be not glum, aye; waging irrational Pascal, at infinity's sight, while drowning in rum. It was, though, slightly... existent, morale...

As one imagined through the night... when the river of possibilities was swum... when it was not all, being subsistent... when sentience's kernel could excite... when...

Living was not numb... void distant... and all one does is write. When horror was not reality's sum... an incubus' limbo not insistent... actuality not morosely trite...

When it was not luxury, humdrum... all not reminiscent... of ruination's might... when survival is not a drudgery... one's psyche to not succumb... reviviscent? No...

Just... so much spite; anger, summery bane... plum. Not an iota of a soul's beneficent; can one return to dust? Fractal clangor... can it not devour oneself, the crust?

Why do you not just disappear? For life will never, possibly, be... near... eternally dark will be the weather... only a brain's bullet will resolve, dear. Then, aether.

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CharacterWarrior:

Aye, came here, did I, from the northern climes, to... I suppose, one does semi-professionally compete around here, do they? On our voyages, you see, in these wild...

Times... well, the sea is never quite anyone's domain, and whoever comes from across it... well, they come, do they not? It is funny, is it not? How they think...

Centuries from now... probably... how they likely think that they are so much more... safeguarded, shall we say, against the... vicissitudes of chaos... say... when...

In reality, they do not, really... I mean, they must have thought that they solved the causes of inter-state conflict, or such... just because of a few organizations...

Also... a certain mighty weapon I am not quite privy to, per se, considering the limitations of my times... still, how is that a solution? That just gives those with...

Such a weapon the 'prime mover' capability, with others, both opponent possessors of such weapons, and those without... inevitably hesitating to do anything...

Just... saying. As in... as much as they can say that we were brutal, at least... still could defend themselves, those who we attack... our weapons are not... invincible.

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Robe:

What I do? Pretend... in a sense, all do such a thing, but... well, some do so more than others, I suppose... now, some might think that I do, in fact, truly believe...

In whatever my pretence happens to be about... and I do, or not... one never knows, eh? Actually, one can know... from another, psychological angle... ego, survival...

Optimization... all so logical, is it not? One might say... and the intention is, usually, much clearer when it is collectives... institutions, declaring this...

So... whoever might say "I believe a teapot sits in outer space"... now, assuming collectives do not, yet, have the capability to verify such a thing... no one can...

Effectively argue against such an... algebraic sort of proposition, which can be anything, although usually the entity is, somehow, omnipresent and, yet, nowhere to be...

Seen... which is something... ultimately, unless the source is neuronal destabilization... it seems to be a collective psychosis type of thing, which not all really do...

Ultimately, that is the thing with psychology... observation of others... one just cannot know, for certain... not unless, in the future, technology can pry into heads...

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LizardWarrior B:

Witness it... vast nothingnesses that make no sense... yet, they all go on, and keep going on regardless of any semblance of life... is that not awe-inspiring? How...

Even if there is no life... somewhere... most spots in the universe... it still exists... and, unless acted upon by external forces, will keep doing so until its own...

Natural dissolution... question remains, then, what is the point of life if it can exist outside of it? Why did this maddening affair ever come into being? What is the...

Damnable point of consciousness? Just to be aware of all the horrors in reality? A nervous system just to feel pain, when most other physicalities just... vanish...

It is all I can wonder about, until one's own entire disintegration, at least... still, ideally, nothing ever came into being in the first place... even if all of life...

Ceased, once again, somehow... it would only be the second best outcome... perhaps, a time machine to stop it from ever initiating? Would all the pain also disappear?

Just flail, is all I do... and, existentially, it is what everyone else does, too, most just happen to have someone else who claims that they are not... conveniently...

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DwarfPaladin:

One might think I am but... small, aye? Oh, but how erroneous that would be... for it is of such futility, truly... it is, though, still quite the... perception...

That is all it is, though... I mean, sure, sociologically, and all, with how vile some can be, and such... can still matter, still... if I battle someone we are...

I would argue... on equal footing, as curious as that may be to say... I mean, they can think that they have a better 'hand' all they want, that height is an advantage...

It might be, though, as aforementioned, when with 'peers', as such... outside of it, though, outside of anyone's reach... of any length... when chronology is all, when...

Existentially one could do nothing, at all, about something... could be the universe's largest creature, they could still be annihilated... especially before...

They reached that point, because time... is the greatest disadvantage... height certainly, mostly, has no bearing on happiness, as well... just saying, and all...

I mean, they could always 'try' me, I suppose, in a raw conflict of the spirits, or such... perceptions, or not, reality bubbles up... psychology is just bizarre, often.

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ElfRanger:

While alive, do you reckon... I mean, kind of irrelevant if dead... let us assume one is alive, though... should one be on 'alert', usually, or not? It is confusing...

Is it not? For, you see, catecholamines, the chemicals that induce alertness, and... also, anxiety... evolved to be only a direct response to a physical threat... and...

It is, also, 'funny' that... usually, 'they' bring up the possibility of tigers, or such, as if... somehow... no threat, has there ever been... from one's own species...

Not that one ever desired to be of one species, or another... also, statistically, at least, other species are certainly much less of a threat... lately... even back...

When 'nature' and 'artifice' interacted, or currently where they still do... I doubt there is, usually, a much higher risk, proportionally, unless one is isolated with...

Just other species, at least... and, so, hormones like adrenaline do not, quite, react to what is most relevant... which tends to be long-term, too, and out of sight...

This is why myself, as an elf archer, am always prepared for any and all possibilities... can get tiring, often, though... which is the point of 'autonomic', I suppose...

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SpiderStatue:

From another world, a spider... merely a symbiosis, twirled, or to death a guider...? A question of size... necrosis? When they unfurled, wider, the large eyes...

What could be the prognosis? Inside one's mind worries swirled; a nightmare's rider, arise? Naraku's metempsychosis, pearled? With occult knowledge, an insider? The...

Dead come back to life, in disguise? A toxic apotheosis, uncurled... aether's provider? A bonus, on top of the strife... for my demise? Perhaps... just neurosis...

Sanity's collider? Banquet for Cronus? How I despise... annihilation's maps... a sociological diagnosis; between realms, a slider... or all bogus... with fries...

Mind's lapse, time's hypnosis... overwhelms... from society, a hider... an onus... implies? Maybe just traps... insanity's fibrosis... arachnid spells? Anxiety...

No one's sider, but where is misery's locus? Damaged supplies... under wraps... of the soul, cirrhosis? Fear sells... a silken glider... nature's modus? In parts, whole.

They could, of course, be just another creature; regardless of size, a natural feature, even if a toxin, hypothetically, belies; might be a teacher, psychoanalytically...

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CrossbowmanMaskTint:

Hm... I suppose, when you notice me you think of... what, that I might not be as... clearly defined as some others? Do you, sometimes, just go... "really? Not from...

Decades ago? How?" Do you, at times, forget that... it does, in fact, pass continually, time, unfortunately... would be much better if it did not, although the real...

Existential villain, really, is life, and even besides that... it is but a concept, time, not so different from measurements for weight, say, that vary by society, and...

So... is not, quite, objectively true, per se... I suppose, time does objectively go from A to B, but if one were to, as it happens, merely use subjective...

Chronological measurements to, say, attempt to travel through time... well, that will function as well as if when some human, likely drunk on sociological capabilities...

Decides, naturally, that whatever nonsensical artifice they confer on each other makes them able to... say, fly, by just jumping off a roof... or such... say... ugh...

I mean, sure... it is yet another one, another method by which... well, usually the most desperate... could use to kill themselves, but... I am guessing it is painful...

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OrkWarrior:

Who can fulfil my desire for battle? Aggression is all I have! It is in my very DNA! Coursing through my veins, is raw, unmitigated anger, that I need to unleash! So...

Come out, whoever is challenging me! I need more! I cannot have enough! What I have... back there... is so little, so few, I need more, so come out... or I shall come!

Who... are you? You are wondering what I meant by "back there"? What do you reckon I meant?! The storage where I keep those I unleash my aggression on! I am certainly...

Not as... afraid, or whatever, to use whomever for my own ends, unlike some around here... still, it is literally so little, that I came here for more...

As... unlike some others, yet again, who might have a... reservoir, shall we say... I am certainly not so cowardly as to walk away from battling my peers! Hey...

At least I am not the absolute worst, eh? A total bullying coward, that is... fine with the former, but no way would I be the latter... I just need to unleash it all!

What I like best? Wars... I go there, and, sure, others, more mortal, shall we say, are more likely to die, but me? I pillage, ravish... with impunity, sociologically...

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Dremon:

It is I, the one who is... dearly noble, verily, possibly something to do with my origin, and also, am I, handsome... clearly, visually obvious, as anyone can see...

Oh, mock me not, I know I look slightly different in this world, but even in real life... as handsome as those who lack certain protein filaments, and so conform not...

To certain societal measures, shall we say... anyway... mock me not, for my other name is the 'fame' I aspire to, of being the architect of total subjugation of...

Certain segments of the population, or everyone if they keep mocking my follicles, verily! Also, I completely obliterated that pesky C. familiaris; had no chance, and...

I even brag about it, as I do now! Then again, even that 'steerer of status' does it, so I am not, exactly, the worst, when they even 'vowed' her in... why, do you not...

Know? Us, pure psychopaths, will always exist, and even have collectives who back our destruction of others' lives, and once my shadow is all over, out of this basement!

Is it not... nice... nature so naturally evolved to accommodate us? I mean, yes, a large part of that is 'artificial', sociological structures, but nature is cruel...

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StatueGladiator:

A gladiator, am I, whether compelled, or otherwise... not any mediator... just a way for individuals to die, that societies upheld, those they euthanize. Perhaps, a...

Negotiator... of an empire's rage... a lone bonsai... in the void... unwanted, expelled... rationality to exorcize... hateful laps... psychopathy, an aviator... really...

Around, no sage, by the by... lives destroyed, taunted, felled... randomness we shall hierarchize, chaps! Collectives' madness' radiator; desperation found, empathy to...

Disengage, nigh; Clementia to avoid, undaunted, dispelled; he dies, eternal naps; derangement's initiator, insanity's compound, memories' cage; no ally, despair deployed...

A supposed republic flaunted, marvelled; lies, traps, abound; wars' wage, an evil eye, boiled... scores haunted, no surprise... millennia elapse, what could one propound?

Psychopathy's gauge? Still, an oversupply; demons coiled, distorted, rise... in the premotor cortex, gaps... voids astound... an existential phage? No, why? Id snaps...

Am I, one might ask, the spirit of Mars? Not quite, for it is dry, and in no one's shadow I bask, although I do have plenty of scars; still, sometimes I attend a masque.

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VillagerMale:

Gah, I came here to watch, hopefully relax, even if the morality of the situation is a bit murky, and all, but... I cannot, quite, concentrate much, at all... not so...

Much about this, but... no, more personal, which, I suppose, the point of a meeting with an 'externality' such as this is meant to avert, that is... one's constant...

Bubbling upwards of the subsurface, and all... and it just keeps happening, some of it even, presumably, subconscious, previously at least... and one is supposed to...

Handle this 'constant'... how? One thing to have 'variables', alternating over and over... although some systems just do not seem to have them... a constant permanence...

Though? I guess, at least, I have not been made immortal, to forever live some subjective nightmare... ugh, I realize most do not come for this sort of stuff, I am...

Sure that some barely think beyond "let us see them fight"... even in this situation, somehow, I am distracted, though... while thinking this, too, actually; damn life...

I suppose... such a thing as a monkey of the mind, and all, considering our evolution, but, at times, it is not just present stimuli that distract; all sorts of branches.

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Warrior:

An archetypal warrior from the olden days, am I! Out to venture to far off lands, and... wait, is something wrong? There used to be something... once, no barrier, just...

Adventure? Nostalgia? How can something be that if it is, technically, still accessible? Oh... subjectivity, of course... I suppose, if that large creature outside was...

Invincible, to defeat... or whatever other verb that is ever so slightly less seemingly neutral... I, too, would be... I guess, disinclined, or such, to bother with...

Even trying... huh, I suppose that might, actually, be the reason for hermits, too, on a more collective basis, per se... if only, though, no? If only one can not only...

Enter a polygonal reality once more, as most can, even if these days they are not as prevalent... a reservoir from the past, though, but... one cannot, quite... go...

Literally back to those times... not holistically, mind, as confusing as this may seem, but just subjectively, perceptually, and so... for perceptions are all... no?

One cannot help but be tangled with... reality too, eh? Not that, I suppose, one necessarily was not, before, but... internally, perceptually, compartmentally... and so.

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FDemon:

I am the... priceless one, really, descent to a hell of hooded blinkers, verily... so bombastic, am I not? So... amazing, no? So... incalculable, truly... marvellous...

Ah, actually... it seems they might have calculated the results, and... ugh, I am not even interesting enough for the vile ones?! Am I not vile enough...? I mean...

Not even... what is this, some consolation prize...? How dare they! They must speak not as good as me! How dare they! Come, do I, from the great lake, so they must be...

Bottom feeders, or something! Wait... are you implying I might be... small?! I am an almighty demon from an everlasting nightmare, I shall tell you, and if you say...

Otherwise, you go against my... no, the law! Ugh, seriously... I mean, not close at all... I suppose, I might not have committed as many vile acts as some did, just...

Talk, I suppose, is all I can do... hey, though, I can rile up... well, a few... very few... ugh, okay, I shall fantasize a scenario where I am ferocious now, and action!

Hey, do not distract me from practicing my ferocity... or, remind me of my results, I guess... ugh, never mind... nasty, hateful, and scary am I! The vile shall love me!

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TPMaleCharacter:

Arrived here to investigate this... whatever nonsense this appears might be... and indeed it just so appears to be such, does it not? Let me explain, if desired, if so...

Well, you see, this is just for entertainment purposes, and while in... latter-days, shall we say, that is regarded... a slight bit differently... for, you see, 'play'...

Which falls under 'entertainment', one supposes, although not quite for the participant gladiators, no, for them it is a very real thing... particularly if compelled..

That is that other thing... such absolute nonsense, when that happens, besides unjust... it goes beyond, though, besides even what some others mentioned... for some...

In the supposedly 'enlightened' latter-day... not really so, but I am sure they approve of themselves as such, just as they deign themselves 'sapiens', while calling...

Other creatures peacocks, of course... anyway, point is, some are compelled in the opposite direction, to not 'play', essentially, which is equally absurd, either way...

Ever so annoys me when such affairs occur, truly, in all eras. Why has no one an iota of the concept of liberty, pray tell? Emperors, too, think they are, until betrayal.

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Knight B:

I... admit I might be ever so slightly... overdressed... or over-steeled, or such... anyway, still, at least I can, finally, compete at an equal level, and... you see...

There is someone I need to defeat, or, at least... hope to, not that... I might not be physically prepared, as far as that goes, but... rumours claim that that element...

Not quite effective... as in, this creature, another... more ossified knight... might not be, entirely, in that realm... anymore. Once was, but... see, many over in...

That place... over there, down below... is a slight bit over in the... ethereal realm, if you know what I mean... not quite spiritual... certainly nothing 'holy', and...

That creature certain did nothing of sort, then and now... now, I am not entirely certain I could ever reach him, not being quite as... empyrean, shall we say, in the...

Infernal sense, but... I would try to be the reverse-Orpheus, if possible, to reach through the underworld just to... what, though? Something more nothing than death...?

Not quite certain what I even can do... all this preparation, thinking, potentially building up to... what? Just the... void? This goddamn existence is so sordid...!

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DemonBomb:

You... how very much you dare! How could I be confined to this place?! I have so much influence I belong to that other realm where the most demonic dwell! How could you!

I am the great... pleasant one, honouring god! Some type of god, anyway, not sure, likely Mammon, residing at the big plains, and despite being given everything...

It is everyone else who wants everything for nothing! All hail the almighty trains that crush those who... even think to dare! I use all my earthly wealth to suffocate...

All those who... get something for nothing! (Oh, god, I hate all this projection... maybe... no, it is all of them who do! Still, damn that dead fool who gave me all!)

Do not... oh, no you do not dare to... mock me over some futile donation to search for a machine as broken as my psyche?! Is that why I am confined to this, because I...

Lost that suit...? How very well dare you! I shall let you know that my other 'philanthropy' is very effective at ruining that strange oddity, the other!

You dare to... make fun of me for removing some stone, too?! That is it, I shall donate until you are either vanquished, or upgrade me to the other place! Oh, not death!

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Eva:

An arrow to everyone's heart, is what they shall get! Especially if they dare to underestimate, belittle me, too... it is interesting, though, is it not, when they...

Expect something, yet get another? Not my fault they lower their expectations... although, I find, it is mostly the ones who absolutely want to be here, who do so...

As, of course, they are not hiding behind a veil of fear, as those compelled, and likely have their usual, prejudicial demeanour on, like some strange mask that...

Filters out reality... except it does not, objectively... at least. Of course, the problem with the 'modern day' is that there are not a lot of sources that one can...

Come up to face reality head-on... unless one is climbing a mountain, or such, one supposes, in which case preconceived notions can even be fatal... other than that...

Though... which is, still, usually a choice, and so not likely made by those who think highly irrationally... mistakes, then, or accidents... are left... miscalculations.

Nearly a thousand years, did... all this... happen for, did you know? A thousand years of... so much suffering... unless, of course, it's a choice made by free will...

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DragonBat:

The spirit, am I... of the various lives who... were both lucky, and yet fundamentally, ultimately unlucky... curious how existence functions at times, no? Someone...

Might enter life, entirely due to chance, as all lives are, to great resources... not at all due to anything they, personally, did, of course... yet, at a certain...

Point... unexpectedly, either due to some random, fatal illness, or... an accident, just some... statistically unlikely waterspout, say... lives are cut short, as if...

Atropos herself settled on existence being ironic... of course, in reality, irony is just a perception, and it is all, in actuality, merely... random. No symbols, no...

Representative deities, no spirits thereafter... just nothingness, and arbitrary outcomes for all... is the concept of life not delightful? Of course, it does not mean...

Some are not initially, or possibly later lucky, or vice versa... it is all random, though... probability, sure, but is it not curious how someone less lucky can live?

Luck, itself, is, of course, not an objective reality in itself, but a kind of perceptual measurement sort of thing, which still remains abstract, and subject to ideas...

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MaleCharacter:

So, you know, I watch, think, and something occurs to me... might be a universal sort of problem, as in, generally applicable to most lives, that is, the asymmetry of...

Time... I suppose, sure, there is also the difference between how much a couple, say, dedicate to refining their skills, as in such a competition, and minute...

Distinctions, based on how much one concentrated, could result in either a win, or a loss... or worse, in some cases... but, really, the iceberg is underneath, no?

They are, usually, only small differences... nature, in other words... a random, predetermined configuration... is much more crucial, but certainly not just... for...

All could be for nought, if others, through the aforementioned advantage of time, do manage to halt what even is a natural propensity... nature of societies, to ruin...

In the end, though, randomness is all... certain attributes, events... can alter factors, outcomes... 'luck', though, or misfortune, or chaotic outcomes... could be all.

It is, though, kind of funny to think about how much it all depends on... say, hormones... whether one has a certain level of testosterone, that leads to a fatal crash...

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SportyMale:

So... I am here, right, just to pass time, presumably, and yet one cannot help but... wonder what in the world... manufactures motivation... curious, no? I mean...

'Passing', or 'wasting' time, from some points of view... is not a terribly amazing way to... live one's, sole life, and all... of course, even within that category...

There are a lot more... some more entertaining, some joyful, some... not so much, and yet somehow one is still motivated to... read, or whatever, certain things...

Some are, certainly, more fulfilling than others... yet, they all seem to be... irrationally done, as, technically, they do not, what, materially improve life? Even if...

It is not materiality that is the issue... certain states one desires still... need certain things done, whether mundane, depressed, or arduous... and, so, despite...

Being motivated to reach certain endpoints... one does, generally, less of that... novelty being a factor, too, sometimes... also repetition, unless some like that...

Personally, I am not entirely sure if there is anything, ultimately, that is really, rationally, an absolutely worthwhile goal to aim for, although it can be subjective.

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NinjaBlack:

Who... goes there? You come from... where? Uh, I am supposed to be the one to sneak up on you, not the other way round, so I wonder if I am a... failure. No, though!

I shall continue to strive to do... whatever, until the end of this era! Say, whichever one are we in? Uh, never mind, anyway... came here, did I, curiously enough, or...

Not, depending on your level of interest, I suppose... arrived here, I did, though... heralded, even! Perhaps not... I am supposed to remain in the shadows, after all...

With only these... metallic stars, why ever they are such a shape I am not sure, to defend myself with... ugh, can I not have a sword? Those other fellows have such...

Large ones, wearing masks as if they desire to be someone else, when I would rather be them, confronting the enemy directly, instead of from behind! Somehow, ended up...

Here, though... perhaps, because... in the shadows I needed to escape, from this one vicious shogun, once... and in the shadows I remain... forever, perhaps? Failure...?

Yes, though... I am, kind of, utilizing time travel, too... centuries in the future, am I from, researching some early instances of... aggression, and such...

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Base B:

I am the... states that... are rogue, yet are they, really? If they are supported by the majority of others, that is... certainly no pariah, although even the latter...

Rogue they can be, too, but usually... confined within themselves, with no support, whereas some others... in this strange world, where I reside, and the outcast...

States would envy me... still being able to do what they do... pillage, ravish, destroy, murder... old, young, those who cannot even speak... any collective state can...

Do this... it is what infernal groups can do, in this hellish world... only some, though, can do it with impunity... for some reason, sometimes bizarre, other times...

Strategic, because, as those with such capabilities know, it is always worthwhile to annihilate the weakest... if one gets even the slightest advantage against a...

Nearby collective, of course. With such impunity one can even... attack multiple collectives at once... for how long, though? Is eternity an option? Even empires fell...

Do I not look wonderful? The result of decades of... endless slaughter, encouraged by others even more powerful than us, and if anyone else is negative? I am a victim...

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Char:

A slight bit entertained... or not, really... but, you see... problem is... my mind keeps drifting... also does not help that, well, sometimes some curious happenings...

Do happen, do they not? Say, when these strange affairs occur... not quite an affair in the romantic sense, certainly, unless the relationship is between oneself, and...

The outside world, I suppose... ah, never mind that... point is, why is it sometimes, say, one gets cuts, or such... without even knowing the origin? Without feeling...

That initial 'brush with reality'? This is, of course, presuming one is not affected by that condition which entirely renders one's life painless... sounds 'nice'...

Until one realizes it is sort of an alarm system, that... probably should not go off constantly, as that is where madness lies... still, in what state of mind would...

One be in to not even realize some inadvertent, likely superficial cut? Later, of course, one does, but not at its source; not the origin of all of life's destruction...

Hm, who knew I could end up thinking as such during such seemingly mindless events? Of course, the subconsciousness is supposed to function at such a time...

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BleckKnight:

Tell no one else... well, it is a bit obvious, but, either way, do not confirm that... I am, actually, a demonic knight, investigating this... anomaly, I think it...

Might be, up here... from the netherworld, do I come, that which you know is a 'hospital', but is, in reality, a metaphysical link between life, and death... and...

I think, it is safe to say, a universal source of... non-consensual origins, and ends... sad state of affairs, existence... no? I happen to be here now, though, to see...

What, exactly, is happening, here... as, all of this realm, here, is kind of metaphysical... an ethereal world where ontological inquiries are made... and so I am...

Here... I came prepared, offensively, just in case, as they seem like an aggressive species, but... fundamentally, they are so weak, are they not? Not just physically...

Which they would be, against most other creatures too, besides us, but they are so damn cowardly, no? Many seem to think aggression against non-peers is 'brave'... ugh...

The worst thing about these creatures is that they seem to... pretend, really, to do something about injustice, by acting as collectives, when often the latter commit it.

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CharacterWeapon:

By the... power invested in me by... some ancient dragon I met along the way, who may, or may not have been in a cave, or so... ah, never mind, I do not absolutely...

Need to resemble any stereotypical non-playable character conversation, do I...? Also, I think I might have, instead, sounded a bit as if I was at some wedding at the...

Beginning, there... not so much later on, unless the wedding is between dragons, or such... I think the red one over there has not found anyone yet, though... sadly...

For him, anyway... I am, just... what am I here for, again? If only I knew... if only it was, in a sense, as... 'expected', as before... when one could, just venture...

Out, about... with nary an objective worry, yet now... has it ever been the same? It is, in a sense, like a tune that, on the surface, is cheerful... after some event...

Though, some association... some in-universe incident, say... it changes its meaning... I suppose, that can happen overall, too, in this... mostly dreadful thing, life...

Ultimately, does it matter, or should one strive to keep alive some sort of passion, no matter what, regardless of the outside world...? Even if memory gets heavier...

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WarriorOrange:

Oh, you, there... underestimate me not, for even as I am as I am... I am healthier than you, clearly... it is, though, hilarious how so many judge so superficially...

Is it not? Even statistically, they do... not just individually, but collectively, subconsciously... height might be a preference... yet, one can be so broken...

Regardless, no? Hilarious, truly, to presume anything... I mean, certainly, even the absolute tallest have a lot of physical, practical problems... not even talking...

About those, though... no, psychology is of more import, is it not? Even more crucially, though... just, individuality... categories might seem useful at a superficial...

Level, and, certainly, to group hues, or chemicals... even creatures who cannot speak, though, quite distinct they can be, even if the same species... and, one might...

Think it is due to size, if there are two of them; one small, one bigger, and so assign personalities with such associations, but, then, that is a sample size problem...

Yes, do you not know? I always think about samples sizes just before charging headlong into some fortified castle! Why... it is useful to calculate and quantify...

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37:

Yes, yes... it is, is it not, ironic how... well, it used to be called hubris, but now it is more of an adjective... is it not, though... whatever it might be deemed...

Not like it happens often, but, when it does, is it not ironic that, for instance, a mast is so long... for some, possibly vain, reason... it results in what it is...

Attached to, to... capsize, and flounder? Is that even a price worth paying for mere vanity, if indeed it was that? It is not even aesthetic... when it should be...

Functional... for a little bit of vanity, in life, to pay in death... is that even ironic, at that point, or just existentially random? Not very clever, perhaps?

I suppose... 'freak' events still happen, but if most do not have some long pole, in the name of the brag... ah, whatever, not sure why I even think about this stuff...

When I should be... attempting to... enjoy whatever possible, in one's life, regardless of anyone else's vanity, but if one can barely not be 'connected'...

What, you think what I said earlier is linked to some spirit, elsewhere? Not sure... wait, do spirits even exist... for real? What, like, around us, invisibly? Hm, doubt.

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WarlockMaskTint:

You do... notice it, do you not? How everything... rots, cracks... eventually, progressively... everything does degenerate... regressively, entropy ensures...

Regardless of what one does, because it is not so much the present that has much of an effect, but the... yes, the only alternative left... future can certainly not...

Alter the present, or if it can... only psychologically, in the sense of... ah, why does everything need to be ruined by their psychopathy... really? Can one, just...

Not stick to science fiction? Who am I kidding, even that has dystopias... irony, of course, being that anyone, currently, thinks that those are, somehow, a negative...

Thing... when, presently, all the psychopathies are resident in an otherwise dreary externality... if you know what I mean, certainly no 'topia, regardless of polarity...

Then, it is, effectively, the worst of all worlds, where 'monstrosities' is all there is, but what makes it even more 'subtle'. and worse, is that they look similarly...

Does this... ever get tiring? All the time, the... void... not quite there, yet so close, all the time, for so much; always so close, but no dice, nope, no death, today.

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MStatue B:

A mere disc, in my hands, yet... who do I 'whisk'? Who demands protection for their lands? Against threat... who shall we frisk... for reasons arbitrary... until their...

Hope disbands... and forever, they are, in debt... for us, no risk... a mere ancillary... our nation expands, wherever, far, in our net; everlasting pus, we are brisk...

Our accessary... our home withstands, however, we spar, they are 'wet'; thus, with a noble son's violence, and bisque... we deliver them to a cemetery... our brands...

Whomever, we char, no regret... nothing to discuss... helps, the lioness... now, nearly a centenary... psychopathy understands... or whatever. Death's tsar... no reset...

The weakest to concuss... we relish their yelps... states' power, our functionary, our demands, whenever... voir. Our neighbours to beset, but dissimilar to the rus...

We can scour... marauding bands... an international cantilever, lives to bar... genocide? No sweat... empathy, a wuss; our greed, gratified, while smoking a cigarette...

Is it not amazing, collaboration? On lives, grazing... for them, no salvation... knives, they have, while we go out guns blazing... our martyrdom is our justification...

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DragonTurtle:

I spit fire, despite being part of Testudinidae, somehow, magically... or the fact we are in some sort of ethereal realm, verily... in fact, how can you even be sure...

You are awake, right now...? Just because your mind does not, just... off, drifting, ungrammatical, into fantastical... or hellish, scenarios, you think you do not sleep?

Just because you can distinguish between random acts of... oneirological violence, and the alternative 'mundanity', really? When it is all so contextual, chronological...

Haunted you still, will always be... so, where, exactly, is the distinguisher, there...? Do they not, sort of, combine, merge, and intertwine...? The nature of dreams...

When one, quick, evanescent... waking thought... envelops into a sleepy nightmare, but no... not quite nightmarish enough to wake up, for that you need, what... an...

Absolute dystopia? Being skinned alive? You get the picture... somehow, that is when one knows that it is a dream, despite conscious life still being, potentially, as...

I suppose, though, you might also be thinking; a turtle, telling me this? "Wait, a talking turtle?" Maybe you are, after all, asleep, or more might exist than one knows.

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SKTPolice:

I... not sure if I am in the right place, here, or even... you know, time... not sure what happened, after a bout of... you know, imbibing... I was supposed to do...

Whatever it was I was supposed to do... I might have amnesia, or something, not sure... oh, wait, my desire to bust in doors and go in guns blazing! Not quite while...

Drunk, to be specific... later, that... not quite compatible, both are... still, why am I here, now...? Is this not an... arena where...? That was, unless I missed...

Classes, though... a historical thing, so... why, or how, am I here...? There are not even any doors to bust! Oh, what I enjoy doing, if I can admit to that now, is to...

Kill, with impunity... I mean, as long as we say that they posed a threat, who is to argue otherwise, the dead...? Soon, we might not even have to come up with empty...

Excuses, too, if we have some sort of... executive immunity, I suppose. Still, why am I here...? No, could it be... I am fated to do battle with those who are my peers?

Not sure I can handle that... usually, when we bust in, well, besides being more numerous, we take them by surprise, they barely have time to pick up a weapon...

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MaleVillager:

Yarr...? Yeehaw, and such... I am here, for I do what I want to do, regardless of what anyone thinks, regardless of who I hurt; take, and give nothing back, no? Why...

Not? Whatever we can get, we do... including a certain 'JC', although that might be ambiguous... caught him when he tried to study how to talk, and sure enough he...

Bored us, mostly with sophistry, after which we mocked him by feigning fear... kind of did more than mock us afterwards, though... we also made it seem like we would...

Help a... rebel? From the system that we contribute so much to, ourselves, which is ironic, considering we are supposed to be rebels... context, though, I suppose...

Is it not curious how... at first they were fine with us, since we kind of fit in with their financial structure, but suddenly... oh, so suddenly, when we did exactly...

What they do themselves... oh, that is when they could not bear us, anymore, when they, an empire, tried to, although mostly failed, to get us to go away... such irony...

I am here... kind of... on a spying, sort of, mission... not formally, or anything, but... I guess, we could call it 'intelligence', which is a strange, multi-usage word.

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