![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
anon text
i'm going to tell you a story, people of genessia. you may want to take a seat, this one is a little unnerving. it's a true story, after all.
many years ago, in genessia's earliest days, there was a young boy. it's a familiar story- he had his life uprooted, woke up in the bay, had strangers offer to help take care of him in a strange new world. but people kept disappearing on him, and he'd get shoved off from one person to another, too young to really fend for himself.
one day, the person who ended up with became someone very important to him, despite the coldness he had started feeling from repeatedly losing those around him. their smile lit up his face in return, and he wanted to do everything he could to keep them happy.
that is, until one day when he came home from his job a little early and witnessed something he shouldn't- his special person was a killer. and so, to keep him quiet, his special person killed him.
he tried to tell people, but no one believed him. the child, after all, had a habit of lying and playing pranks. they told him it wasn't funny, that it was mean to joke like that.
and he kept trying, so his special person killed him again.
and again.
and again.
finally, as his memories started to fade and he started to lose his sense of self, people were taking notice. they noticed something wrong with him when they would see him each morning, that his attitude had changed little by little.
but sure enough, those people who noticed seemed to disappear from genessia before they could solve the mystery.
but for some reason, his tormenter never did.
so he died, again.
and again.
and again.
that is until he didn't really know what he was doing, but there were things he never forgot- things he learned in genessia after arriving were things he couldn't seem to forget, and as he lost track of who he once was, he became something new.
a boy who couldn't be killed, a boy without memories left to give.
a boy who each morning saw the smiling faces of those who forgot who he was meant to be as they came outside to pick up their papers.
a boy whose memories told him the one thing that always made him happy, no matter what he went through.
a boy who cannot understand the anger within him for he cannot remember it, only pedaling and pedaling and remembering the one happiness that never quit on him.
the one thing he asks for. and yet people would kill him for a dislodged garden gnome, never seeking justice for whatever got him here, a man whose identity is long forgotten but the anger within will never subside.
again.
and again.
and again.
and to this day, he lives on, not knowing who he is beyond a singular moniker and a burning desire to receive tips:
the paperboy
[ ooc note: any and all of em's responses will be anon ]
many years ago, in genessia's earliest days, there was a young boy. it's a familiar story- he had his life uprooted, woke up in the bay, had strangers offer to help take care of him in a strange new world. but people kept disappearing on him, and he'd get shoved off from one person to another, too young to really fend for himself.
one day, the person who ended up with became someone very important to him, despite the coldness he had started feeling from repeatedly losing those around him. their smile lit up his face in return, and he wanted to do everything he could to keep them happy.
that is, until one day when he came home from his job a little early and witnessed something he shouldn't- his special person was a killer. and so, to keep him quiet, his special person killed him.
he tried to tell people, but no one believed him. the child, after all, had a habit of lying and playing pranks. they told him it wasn't funny, that it was mean to joke like that.
and he kept trying, so his special person killed him again.
and again.
and again.
finally, as his memories started to fade and he started to lose his sense of self, people were taking notice. they noticed something wrong with him when they would see him each morning, that his attitude had changed little by little.
but sure enough, those people who noticed seemed to disappear from genessia before they could solve the mystery.
but for some reason, his tormenter never did.
so he died, again.
and again.
and again.
that is until he didn't really know what he was doing, but there were things he never forgot- things he learned in genessia after arriving were things he couldn't seem to forget, and as he lost track of who he once was, he became something new.
a boy who couldn't be killed, a boy without memories left to give.
a boy who each morning saw the smiling faces of those who forgot who he was meant to be as they came outside to pick up their papers.
a boy whose memories told him the one thing that always made him happy, no matter what he went through.
a boy who cannot understand the anger within him for he cannot remember it, only pedaling and pedaling and remembering the one happiness that never quit on him.
the one thing he asks for. and yet people would kill him for a dislodged garden gnome, never seeking justice for whatever got him here, a man whose identity is long forgotten but the anger within will never subside.
again.
and again.
and again.
and to this day, he lives on, not knowing who he is beyond a singular moniker and a burning desire to receive tips:
the paperboy
[ ooc note: any and all of em's responses will be anon ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Lmao most people don't even open carry their pendants
But I mean believe what you want
no subject
Which only leaves two options. The first being that you're someone who watched all this go down without telling anyone, making you just as guilty as the killer, or you're someone doing a little creative writing.
It's not just one thing. Nice try though.
no subject
:) They always want someone to know their tale
no subject
Also yeah I do know stuff about killers. I hunt 'em for a living.
no subject
no subject
no subject
That said, you're kind of a boring jackass who can't just accept a fun story, aren't you? remind me to never invite you camping.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
i mean, come on.
you can't know all that.
there's no way.
but maybe i'll tip him next time.
just to be nice and not because i'm scared.
no subject
do you really want to take that risk
no subject
what if you're actually the paper boy and you're doing this to get extra money?
no subject
and you chose to ignore this because you thought it was a prank
and are now solely responsible for turning your back on an innocent amnesiac
no subject
no subject
no subject
Sounds pretty badass. Not intimidating enough. The Avengers of Explodo-kills.
no subject
no subject
anon text;
I like him.
[Whether or not he actually believes it is another story. But he does like the guy regardless.]
no subject
no subject
Plus he is more than willing to help a person.
no subject
but did it kill you
bonus: would it kill you to tip before you get hit in the first place
people have their pains coming
no subject
Just a question because you never know who might want that.
no subject
I don't see why you can't leave your own name.
no subject
It just sounds like so much fun.
text
If you ever de-anon I'll buy you a drink
no subject
no subject
Though not as much as the paperboy touches the lives of us all.
no subject
People should be ashamed of trying to harass him
no subject
no subject
no subject
Logically, you are the villain or you are lying.
Or you are the paperboy.
If you are the killer then you will be brought to justice.
no subject
text.
poor paper boy. :(
text.
text.
Re: text.