Oh no, it’s another one of Deo’s long life-story posts!
But don’t worry; this very well may be the Last One, and if you read between the lines, you might find some interesting stuff— or at least notice something unusual, way different from the sort of things I’ve talked about in the past.
A lot has happened to me in the past twelve months; what started as a casual observation and a simple experiment early this year ended up ripping open a hole that I haven’t quite managed to climb out of.
It’s… changed me in ways I never really expected to be possible, and at this point I’m halfway between “well, talk about it for the sake of anyone else who might be interested” and “it’ll be entertaining to somebody, right?”…
So here’s the story of that big hole I fell down.
I’m not going to be super-detailed here, because I don’t want to startle people into anything they’re not ready to deal with— that’s something between them and life, when and if the time comes.
I love you. c:
Your muse has shape. Define it. Human? Animal? Other? Both?
Memories. Mannerisms. A voice, an accent, vocabulary, preferences, hopes, dreams. Fears.
Your muse has a lair. Define it.
A name. A past. Possibly a religion.
When I am at the most difficult of crossroads (such as, erm, now) this is how I prevent myself from sinking too deeply (when I am able to catch myself in time.)
For bonus points, make friends and plot to take over the world with them!
And then Deo said fuck the police and shaved/cut their hair off altogether.