Mind of a Madman

Clora smiled wide, swaying side to side on the railing overlooking the park. “I like it.”

Mikendo laughed. “Oi, damn good it is, right? Only the best when you’re with friends.” He smiled.

“It brings out all my me aspects.” She looked over to him. “Tell him we should get it more often. It’s amazing, and it makes me happy. I don’t feel upset or angry right now. A little hungry, but not any extra tired.”

“Well then, i’s a good hit for you! I’m glad to have assisted in making you feel all right inside.”

Clora nodded, then closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards the stars. “Ever wonder if maybe good things fall apart so better things can fall together?”

“Sometimes I wonder jus’ that thing, sweet.”

“I feel as if gravity could take me away right now.” Her legs swayed over the open space.

“I’s called high, friend. Don’t think too much of it.” He relaxed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the railing Clora sat upon.

“I think I might have a bit of a headache…”

“Could be lack of food, or the way we was sittin’.”

“Maybe!” Clora smiled, swung back around, and landed on the ground next to him. “Let’s go back! It’s late.”

“Oi sweet, I live ‘ere, remember? Have Jaxx bring you home. He’s still up for sure.”

“Ah, all rightie! You’re right. Hadn’t thought of it.” Clora laughed and waved as she disappeared into the tunnels.

“What a cute kid.” Mikendo turned and walked towards the small shack he had beside the bridge and opened the door. He slid off his shoes and jacket and placed them on a crate beside the door. The room he was in was unbelievable small, not even having the leg room for three people. It was… cozy, to say the least. The whole room was illuminated by a tall floor lamp in the corner. The back of the shed housed a door, leading into one of the drain pipes under the business section of the uppercroft. Mikendo opened the door and stepped into a large room that was easily 12x12x7. The room held a large bed, a couch, a kitchen area, and a television. The bed was sectioned off with a pull-able curtain. Mikendo wandered over to the sink and opened a cabinet above it. He pulled out a snack and opened the package, begining his munching. “Better.” He glanced down and eyed the green band on his wrist for a moment. He took a moment and slid off his hat, the unkempt blond hair strewing about. “‘ello Love. Still think ‘bout me of’en?” He pushed the band about for a moment. “Well then, hope them is good thoughts, swee’heart. Keep your ‘ead up.” He took the last bite of his snack and then pulled off his shirt, tossing the both of the clothing articles to the table and his wrapper into the trash. He wandered over to his bed and collapsed, breating slowly. “Oi, Audio. ‘m tryin’a sleep, so stop recordin’ so the little light goes out.”

You know what my FAVORITE fucking thing in the whole god damn world is? I love when my friend degrades herself to the status of a free whore by continuously fucking a guy who has no intentions in her future and constantly makes her feel replaceable by getting her drunk, fucking her, and then leaving!

Why do women degrade themselves to the par of a slab of meat and then complain about how there’s no good men on Earth to their male best friend who actually legitimately cares about their feelings? Guys who constantly hear from said chick friend about “Oh, why can’t a find a guy who’s nice like you?” Well, that would be because he’s RIGHT. FUCKING. THERE! You’re talking to the motherfucker, just date him!

“But it would ruin our friendship.”

Sure. Exactly. Then stop bitching about it. I don’t want to hear about how you want a guy to be nice, then find the nice fucker and screw the guy over, or worse, Fuck a douchebag and then tell him about it, causing his feelings to be hurt and you to feel dejected, alone, and used. God, must men be useless and parasitic fuck machines who only think about “getting some,” and must women constantly fall into the rut they carve. Should I give a fuck? No. Do I give a fuck? Yes.

Despite the fact that Mr. and Mrs. bullshit drama think that their problems only affect them, it don’t. Let’s take a rhetorical case, shall we?

We have three related parties, and then me. Party 1 is the jock. He can have any woman he desires because he’s a stud and women love a man with a nice body, no plans to be their in the morning, and a lack of a soul. Party 2 is the Best Friend Boy. He’s the guy who the girl will run to at the first moment of peril, and he’ll always help because he’s in love with the girl. The girl is party 3, and she wants a nice but good looking guy.

So, Girl (party #3) decides that friend (#2) likes her, but ignores entire situation and fucks jock (#1) and then ends up telling friend (#2) that she did and he gets mad because he knows that the jock just used the woman he’s in love with to get a quick fuck.


You know what? I could continue this shit all night and rant and bitch, but none of my friends seem to be helping and people are even taking the Jock’s side of the argument. One of my friends actually said she’d fuck the jock too. So you know what? FUCK. THIS.

I’m so sick of humanity and ashamed of the human race. I’m going to be a hermit and just not even give a fuck because you know what? Nobody’s going to try and prove me wrong, and nobody would even succeed anyways. Jesus Christ, why do I even bother to have a blog if everyone who reads this fucking thing will disagree with me anyways? <.<

Only fuck people who you love and whom love you back. Fucking random people might not ruin your life, but it could ruin theirs. It’s so ridiculous.

(Or just, you know, don’t tell all your friends about your sexlife.)




Don’t find undesirable people and then complain about how things aren’t going your way. If you want a nice guy, focus on his niceness before how sexy his abs look. If you just want someone who looks nice to fuck every Saturday after drinking for three hours, then don’t expect them to want you again in the morning. I’m done with people’s bullshit. This blog post didn’t even make me feel better, and it makes no sense, and I’m emotional, and fuck this website too, while I’m at it. Notice my anger? I’m angry, and this is my way of coping. ._. Don’t bring it up.

Clora and Mari peered around the corner to see Sorrow leaning over one of the numerous railed ports lining the undercroft. He stared off into the distance, holding a small jar of water and sand attached to a necklace.

“Whatcha think he’s thinking about?” Clora continued to stare as she asked her sister.

“It looks like he’s remembering something. What’s the water and dirt in the little jar for?”

“I think it’s from somewhere.” She glanced up to Mari again. “Maybe from the time last year at the ocean?”

“He wouldn’t keep those memories. Something must have happened recently to make him think about something, which is why he’d be sitting and staring. Definitely a body of water related incident.” She stared intently at the small jar. “It’s got little gems on it, around a metal band near the cork.” Mari leaned against the building and thought.

Clora continued her staring. “Hmmm…” She frowned and wandered next to her sister and say down. “I can’t figure it out! Not fair. I want a pretty jar too. What, did he get it from a magic gem pool or something?”

Mari raised an eyebrow. “Magic… gem… pool? Sorrow’s not quite so, um, glittery sounding.” Mari thought again, flattening out wrinkles in her clothes. “Sorrow’s not a fan of the ocean either… a lake.” Mari understood and looked over to Clora. The Lake. His own fictional lake he made a while ago. It had large gems underneath the water that would glow. Each different color of gem did something new. Underneath the dock near his little shack was a blue one that illuminated the area, allowed the water to be breathe-in-able, and warded off any who had malicious intent. Right next to that was the red gem, which was buried under the sand. That one was always on fire, and Sorrow made it a camp site. There was a green gem in the nearby forest, but I forgot the purpose of that one. Then in the bottom of the lake their was a yellow gem, and anything that touched that one mutated, or evolved in some way.” Mari smiled at her twin. “He used to go there with people from his chat, especially someone specific, remember?”

Clora nodded. “He’s thinking about his past, then?”

“He’s thinking something, hon, but I can’t tell you what is on his mind.” Mari closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall.

Clora stared at her sister for a few more moments. “Wow, you’re so much like him sometimes.”

Mari turned to Clora confused. “What?”

“Sorrow. You act a lot like him. You calculate a lot less often, but you are cognitive and figure things out. You’re passionate and erratic like him, too. The biggest difference is your interactions with other people. You can’t mingle well and you hold grudges bad. Sorrow forgives too easily and tries not to make trouble.”

“Maybe you’re right, then.” Mari leaned back again, this time staring at graffiti on the wall. “Clora?”

“Yes?”

“Your friend is a goof.”

“What friend? Why is that?”

Mari nodded forward. “His art style and choice of content.”

Clora looked to the paint on the wall and noticed a man with a white hat and green eyes curled around a girl with silver hair. The entire design looked like it formed the shape of a heart. “Mikendo…” Clora frowned. “He painted this?”

“I’d guess. Who else is enough of a goof to spray paint him and his sweetheart on a wall? … Does she have silver hair?”

“It’s changed before. I believe she was silver hair and red eyes in a recent one we’ve seen. Her eyes are closed in the picture. Is she asleep?”

Sorrow spoke up from just next to them. “Yeah. He came in and drew this just after she got in trouble. The letters you see used around the picture here of him holding her are the ones he made up.”

Clora looked over to Sorrow. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. Artisan popped up and pointed out you were over here.”

“Artisan?” Mari stood and glanced behind Sorrow to see him there. “Sudden and inappropriate, but what were your feelings towards Skaar?” She tilted her head a bit.

Artisan blinked a few times, confused as to why Mari of all people would be at all interested in his life. “Well, I wanted to protect her. I wanted to hold her and make her feel safe and happy without crossing any lines that would also make her feel uncomfortable.”

“So you wanted to be her companion.”

Artisan nodded. “Companion, Guardian, and Friend.”

Mari looked at Clora, then to Sorrow. “Oh, right. Sorrow, what is with the small jar?”

Sorrow glanced to the container around his neck. “It’s from Anima Beach. I used to go there with a friend.” He looked back towards Mari, a bit of a sentiment stare in his eyes. “It’s something I’ve had in my room for a bit. Something today made me take it out and keep it close for a bit. Makes me smile.”

Mari nodded again. “Well, I’m out of questions.” She turned to Clora and smiled, holding out her hand. “Come now, Love. We’ve things to do at home.”Clora smiled and nodded, then took Mari’s hand and wandered off.

Artian’s voiced popped in all of a sudden. “Sorrow?”

“Yeah?”

“Those two are odd. You made them, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you make them like that?”

Sorrow thought for a moment, then looked Artisan in the eye. “I wanted to be sure that I would always have love inside. That is one of Mari’s purposes. She’s modeled a lot after me because when I made her a had a lot of excess emotion. She’s a more twisted and uncontrollable female imprint of how I was back then.”

Artisan nodded in understanding, then looked up to the nearby orange light. “Audio’s recording the twins, it seems.”

“Of course he was. He likes interesting things, and they were spying on me, after all.

“You WERE a good friend.” Darkside looked over to Sorrow, away from the note. “Were, as in you are not anymore.”

“I’m still a good friend.” Sorrow sat with a folder in front of him, papers controlling most of the table’s surface. These two, along with a few others, were sitting in the Archives again. Sorrow continued to comb through the folders.

“Not what the blog post says.”

“It’s not her post.”

“It’s written in her way.”

“So? She wrote it, but that does not mean it is her post. It’s easy to follow an order and write down what your beloved master tells you to.”

“I’ll assume you’re upset.”

“I’ll assume you can understand basic human emotion.” Sorrow glared for a moment, then returned gaze to his work.

“It’s understandable why it happened.”

Sorrow shrugged. “No, no it really isn’t. I’m not interested in her in that way anymore.”

“Lies.” Darkside looked down to the book in his hands, trying to end the conversation there.

Sorrow rolled his eyes and placed his pencil down. “Meaning?”

“You don’t just drop feelings, Sorrow. You claim to be over her, but yet you show you’re not.”

“I didn’t say I was over her, just that I’m not interested in dating her right now. I’ve kinda seen how she is in relationships, and until something horrible happens all on it’s own, I won’t even give half a shit about my love for her. I’m a friend, which is what she needs me to be.”

“If you met with her, the others would want more than that.”

“Then if they cross the line, I’d punish them.”

“How?”

Sorrow glanced to Darkside. “I’ve been compared to Elsie recently. Maybe I’m sick of being like Raezor and hiding from my problems by covering them up with other problems. She’s worried that if her big huge crazy problems stop, people will have the time to notice that she’s more twisted than a pair of headphones you left in the pocket of your pants on laundry day.”

Audio piped in from the corner. “What would have entailed the line in which we can’t cross?”

“You’d get away with hugs and kisses on the forehead and cheek, since those are things you’d do for your own family and I regard her to that extent. Anything else and you’ve crossed an emphasized line and you’d be punished.”

Audio blinked a few moments. “Well, I’m glad she got away from you before you threatened to be just like her. Will you get a girlfriend now and string her along for a few months?”

Sorrow stood. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. Here’s the bottom line: She’s gone. She up and left to be with her perfect little phone-hacking boyfriend who can’t seem to drop his mini-obsession with me. Let them be, and we’ll do our own thing. I’m sick of feeling this way for…” he sighed, listing lyrics in his head until he came to ones that fit. “I’m sick of feeling this way for someone I mean nothing to, and don’t know why.” He looked back to Audio. “Understand?”

Audio nodded. “So you’ll wait for her?”

Sorrow shook his head. “No. I’ll live my life as I want to, and if she ever deems me important enough to include in it again, I’ll find the space and time for her. Otherwise, that’s it. Our encounters will be limited to accidental eye contact in the mall and then ignoring each other until the day we die, because that’s what he wants her to want, and she’s easily manipulated.”

“How is sh-“

“Because she’s proven it by choosing that things she chosen in every occasion presented to her since the day we’ve met. I won’t sit and lie on here just because you’re writing down my words. Do I can for her? Yes. Will I dumb down the truth o my own god damn blog? No.” Sorrow sat again and sighed, looking back to his writing. He’s not allowed on my blog, and she’s pretty much said she’s done reading it. This means I can continue to post my talking to myself on the internet every day. Congratulations life, you’ve made me give up hope for my sanity.”

Darkside sighed and stood. He gained attention from the others for this, but didn’t acknowledge them as he put the book back into it’s nearby shelf and left the archives entirely. He was sick of the arguing. A voice called from above them, sitting atop one of the shelves. Skeith. “You know, this girl’s fucked you over a lot. She fucked him over a lot. She’s good at being indecisive. She loves stupid little things and wants a similar future.” Skeith slid down the side of the book case and laughed. “You two? Both fucking morons. You deserve each other, really, but it’s never going to happen because you’re in love with a very scared girl with a very obsessed boyfriend, and you have voices in your head, atop self-destructive tendencies. You lack motivation because, well, it left you for the nearest city. You lack self-esteem because everyone you’ve ever counted on has driven a stake through your heart. You complain about sanity? Sorrow, your problem is far from sanity. Your problem is that your life is shit, and you’ve never snapped in a way that’s helped you.” He glanced up and down Sorrow’s unkempt and mangled form. “You’re too broken to even break that way now, so find a woman who’s good at fixing things and build something with her. So Rae will be jealous, but she can fuck off on that matter because you’ve given her more chances than anyone EVER gave you. You invented me for objectivity? She’s your perfect match, but it’s not the perfect time. Live life either until it is, or you find someone more perfect. In other words, Let it go.” Skeith sighed and shook his head, following Darkside’s example and leaving, muttering “and nobody listens to the new kid. Oh, he’s just apathy! they say. Sure, ignore me because I’m not one to give a fuck.” He turned to Sorrow, giving a false dramatic call out to him “Sorrow, I was born this way!” He pretended to cry for a minute, let out a chuckle, then left the doorway.

I find it kind of funny;
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had

I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles it’s a very, very…
Mad World

I’ve decided I’m not okay anymore. I can only take so much before the pressure finally shatters my bones to dust. I’m done. I give in. I’ll just do that loner thing I originally intended instead. I’m not okay anymore, and I can’t take another heartbreak… I wish you had stayed.

- Yesterday, before Sorrow’s Insomnia -

Artisan stood in his Canvas and looked at the painting before him. He sighed and turned away, rolling the chair he was on over to a nearby cabinet and grabbed a different color. He was rolling his was back to the painting when his chair was stopped and toppled over. He glanced over at the intrusion to see a leg. This leg was attached to a woman’s body. Artisan stood up and rubbed his eyes. First he was confused, but it was followed shortly by shock. Before him stood Husk, but not Husk. Husk’s gray color scheme was infected by bursts of blue, not to mention an entire change of physical form. The woman had long blue hair, but it turned gray towards the tips. Her fantasy universe looking outfit followed much the same form. Her irises were blue in the center, slowly fading out to yet another gray. Artisan blinked in confusion. “Aqua?”

The woman smiled, pushing his fingertips against his chest and slowly backing him up. “Yes and no. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” She smiled sweetly at him as she finally backed him against the cabinet of his paints.

Artisan shook his head. “Sorry gov, all outta favors this week. Next time, maybe.”

The Aqua-Husk smiled at him. “Love, you’re one of the original four. I’m even one of the original four!” Her grin widened. “Pretty please? I’m only asking a single favor.”

“I can’t. I only follow one person’s orders.”

“Remember when we were best friends? It was Techtonica, who was a firey and hotheaded leader, Mikendo with his quips and jokes and such, myself with our more solid decisions and…”She poked him upon the nose. “You, our down to Earth man who always had time to see the beauty in the world. Ahh, it was so simple.” She took a step back from the wall and her long hair raised itself. “So, about that favor?”

“Nope.”

Aqua sighed, and her hair outstretched. At the end of a long, grey and blue ponytail was a gemstone in the form of a small dagger. It was gray in color as well, but glowed with cerulean from somewhere deep inside. The tip of the stone pressed against Artisan’s neck. “Atlas, why not just give me what I want? I don’t have the time.”

Artisan nodded. “I understand now. Husk’s power is to bring people back from the Bin and let them take over him, like his own mini-Madman, only with dead people.” Artisan looked Aqua up and down slowly.

“Checking me out, babe?”

“Yes and no.” He looked back up to her gray and blue eyes. “I was examining you. I’d guess that the possession itself saps up about 75% of your overall power, meaning that in this state you couldn’t beat me in a fight if you wanted.”

She gasped. “You’d hurt me, Atlas?!”

“Stop calling me that.” He batted the blade on her hair away, but she spun her hair around his arm and it coiled back to his neck.

“All right, how about this then? You give me what I want right this very instant and keep it between us. If you fail to do so, I’ll make sure that Mikendo dies. Swiftly.”

Artisan’s eyes widened and he sighed. “What is it?”

“I want a key to Nero’s cell.” She glanced up at an orange light in the corner. “And Audio, if you tell anyone about this before I let the little snake out of his cage, I’ll make sure Engine looses both his eyes and I cut off all his fingers.” She smiled sweetly again, her hair pulling back and resting idle beside her, as hair should. “So Atlas. Sorry, Artisan is it now? I’ll need a copy of that key.”

Artisan sighed. “Audio, make sure you post this as soon as it’s safe. I’d bet that you can post it tomorrow if she wants this today. Nero will be out by tonight. Make sure we’re ready for him.

Aqua waited for the drawing to be finished and watched as the key manifested itself upon the paper. Aqua/Husk grabbed the key and headed for the door. “By the way, finish your painting. I’d like to see it finished.”

Artisan looked over to the painting, upon which sat the newest version of the city, which included a room for everyone and an arena in the undercroft as recently requested. He shook his head. “Great, a mess. I’ll prepare too. Check on Sorrow first thing in the morning. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but Nero likes to fuck with him.” A sigh followed. “God damn you, Sorrow. Why does you head need to be like one of your books? How did Husk get out of the cell anyways?” He thought to himself for a moment. “Technically, since Nero, Sorrow, and Husk all happen to be part of the person who made the Bin, they all can enter it. This explains Husk’s ability, but not… I mean, how can we retaliate to this?”

- Today -

Sorrow stands in the Canvas alongside Audio and Artisan. He stands at the edge of the room and glances down through it’s glass floor at the city below. “How?”

“Husk walked in and demanded a key. With Aqua’s abilities and personality at hand, I didn’t doubt when he threatened to murder Mikendo and Engine. This was the soonest we could tell you without going against our word.”

“So the two of them are just walking around now?”

“Yes.”

Sorrow glared down at the park. “How did Husk get out?”

“Emie, perhaps? Emie’s been gone quite a while.”

“Uhh…” Sorrow turned to Artisan and shook his head. “I know where she is, and she can’t follow Nero’s rules anymore.”

“Where is she?”

“In my room at the moment. I’m keeping her locked in there for a short time. Back to the topic of the parasite?”

Audio piped in. “Husk’s ability is to reanimate the energy of those in the Bin to amplify his own abilities and take on another personality. This gives him the options of Laila, Tech, Luna, Dusk, Aqua, and recently removed the options of Jaxx and Vehdroh, not to mention Puppet as well.”

Sorrow looked to Audio. “Puppet and Jaxx are both good to have kept out of his grasp, but as I’ve noted many times before, Vehdroh is not a personality but a manifestation of schizophrenia. I like to keep him in a book, not an open graveyard.” Sorrow shook his head. “I saw Nero last night. He poked fun and then ran off. Next time he tries to talk to me, I’ll have him incarcerated again and the locks changed, and Husk will soon follow as he’s show he’s willing to bend to Nero’s will and work for my inner demon.” Sorrow sighed, staring at the white floor of the room. He turned back to the window. “Permission to kill Husk /in defense/ granted to all. Make sure Engine and Mikendo are properly fortified.” Sorrow thought for a moment. “Engine should be fine. Mikendo’s grown weak, though. He’ll need some help.”

“What about you, Sorrow?”

Sorrow glanced back to the boy. “Me? I’ve been around for a very long time, Audio. I’m not going to suddenly fall to pieces because my shadow wants me to. He can rub salt in my scars all he wants; I’m proud of my attempts in my life and despite the outcomes, I have no regrets. I’m fine with the way things turned out, because I need to be. I can’t spend my whole life bitching about how I didn’t get the girl.” Sorrow walked towards the door. “I lost, fair and square. I tried my best, so by Ds’s logic I’ve got the right to bitch about it, sooo…” Sorrow grabbed the handle and looked to Artisan. “Let’s get Nero back swiftly, shall we? I think it’s about time I let someone else take over the role of punishment.”

“Who?” Artisan tilted his head.

“Jaxx, of course. He’ll do the job well, all things considered.” Sorrow left the room, leaving Audio and Artisan standing in the room with the minor addition of Audio’s recording robot, Vox.

“Jaxx? Why Jaxx?”

“Because Jaxx dislikes Nero and despises the Sanctuary torturer. Since he can’t do anything to her without hurting the other personas, he’ll redirect his anger to Nero and essentially stop Nero’s attempts after the lashing. It’s cruel and morbid, but efficient.”

“So he’s making Jaxx do Elsie’s job?”

“Yes and No. Jaxx does not judge, just punish. Elsie does both. This is a flaw Sorrow wishes to avoid by choosing on his own who get thrown into the brig.” Audio grabbed Vox from the air. “We all done here? I have something to write before Amy or Corey text us this morning.”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Artisan sat back down at his picture and sighed. “I still need the fucking gold.” He got back up and walked over to his cabinet.

-Click!-

Sorrow lay curled in his bed. His gaze was intent on the time: 1am. He let out a sigh and a shiver.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

Sorrow turned and his eyes widened in confusion as he stared at Nero.

“Are you cold?”

Sorrow nodded slowly. “Y-… Yeah.”

“So you feel alone tonight? Hard to sleep?”

“I-..”

“Good. Get the fuck over it.” Nero turned and disappeared into the cloak of the darkness.

Sorrow let out a sigh and turned back to his clock. He pushed it off of it’s table and it clunked to the floor. “Shut the fuck up and go back to your box, Parasite.” Sorrow closed his eyes. “You said yourself, you’re not real. Why listen to you?”

“Good luck getting to sleep.” The darkness seemed to shiver at the words, and Sorrow heard Nero leave.

Sorrow sat up and tore off his shirt, panting at the sudden heat of his room. “Hot or cold, god damn it!” He laid back down onto the bed and stared up. “I should have slept at Corey’s place on that god damn mattress tonight…”