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To your scattered bodies go

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Nenicirene's picture

My characters are all fragments of me, drawn out, purified and magnified. Caricatures that expose a greater truth through exaggeration. Each is shallower than the one before, as more of me was spent by the time it came for her creation.

Nenicirene, of course, is most like me, turned to eleven. She is my sense of humor, my wit, my sarcasm, my hyperactivity, and my glee at wanton destruction. She is my inventiveness and my mathematical mind. She is also the part of me who has lost something that can never be regained, but it doesn't overshadow her life. She is my determination and my sheer will to not give up.

Arochi is my flirtatious side, the more cerebral aspects of sex. She is my desire to drink and to enjoy the fine epicurean pleasures of life. She is also my pride and self-righteousness. She is faith, but not faith in the unknown. Rather, she has faith in that the world she sees is the world that is and that her interpretation of it is the one true right one. She's also my ditziness and my forgetfulness, the "oops" of "I forgot" to Neni's "oops" of "I really shouldn't have done that, should I?"

Zulneni is my primal animal side. She is the carnal side of sex and knows no shame. She is the raw visceral pleasure of eating flesh and knowing it came from a living, breathing thing whose life you have devoured. She is my appreciation for nature and the outdoors, the one who drinks in the glory of breakers crashing over you, howling winds, towering stones, and raging fires. She is my instinct, but also my antisocial side. She is who I am when I don't want to talk to people. She fancies herself an exiled would-be queen, but is really just alone.

Ardalohara is my callousness and greed. She is the part that doesn't look back. She cares about what's in it for her, and little else. Some part of her is lost, and she doesn't want it back. She's too distant from the world, and only interacts with it at the end of a blade. She cuts things open just to see what they look like on the inside. She's my inner sociopath.

Shandala is really just a shell. All she cares about are numbers and how they juggle together. She's abstract fascination with elegant mechanics and how equations fit together. She's the part of me that likes rules only because they're secretly a prescription for how to be broken, a secret some of us know how to read, and it makes us feel special. She likes making numbers scream and living in the corner cases of problem space. She's my raw number-crunching optimization.

Narayana is my sense of wonder. Everything is new to her, and she loves it all. Everyone is friendly. Nothing is bad. Her suffering is something to be smiled at until it goes away, and even the people trying to kill her can't really mean it. She's my unbridled optimism, but she's also my foreigner. She's the part people don't really understand and just smile and nod at in the hopes she'll soon go on her merry way and stop disturbing their lives.

Lastly, Rashad is my addiction. She's self-loathing and loneliness, but she's also hope that there's something greater out there and that she can make a difference. She is proof that though the tunnel may be endless, there can still be light inside it.

And there you have most of me. There's other characters too, but they've never developed into their own selves. They're just other ways to play a game, not people I can put on like a costume for my mind. Not surprisingly, I've never bothered leveling any of the others past the early teens.