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capeandcowl2011-04-18 09:04 pm
silenthillyways.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowl2011-04-18 09:04 pm
( introduction, text ) 18th of april, 2011.
It's taken me a week, but I believe I have this little machine nearly figured out. The letters are familiar enough, but this is no printing press I've ever seen. Not in my wildest dreams could I imagine mankind would come so far - reading each other's words, almost at the speed of thought!
My name is Daniel, and that is the sum of what I know. Not too long ago, I was a dead man, hunted by something beyond even the basest comprehension. Even now, I catch myself looking over my shoulder at the slightest sound. Sleep is an impossibility, and there is a weariness in my bones I fear may never mend itself.
I cannot possibly repay the debt I owe for this chance I've been given to live yet again, and make a life anew in this wondrous city. Not a day passes that I am not left in awe, and every building here is a testament to the sheer ability of man to create. It reduces me to a Neanderthal in this civilized world. It is a unique, and frightening prospect: with no memory, not a speck of recognition in this world, I am forced into a most literal rebirth.
Yet, the thing which vexes me most is the title hero. I've been told that I can ignore my duty here with no repercussions, and yet, how can I not have been brought from my inevitable grave for some higher purpose than simply to exist once again? Why am I here? Am I meant to recreate myself as a better man?
Or am I seeing meaning where there is none?
[TL;DR FOR THE AUDIENCE AT HOME: DANIEL TALKS ABOUT HIS LIFE AND NO1CURR.]
My name is Daniel, and that is the sum of what I know. Not too long ago, I was a dead man, hunted by something beyond even the basest comprehension. Even now, I catch myself looking over my shoulder at the slightest sound. Sleep is an impossibility, and there is a weariness in my bones I fear may never mend itself.
I cannot possibly repay the debt I owe for this chance I've been given to live yet again, and make a life anew in this wondrous city. Not a day passes that I am not left in awe, and every building here is a testament to the sheer ability of man to create. It reduces me to a Neanderthal in this civilized world. It is a unique, and frightening prospect: with no memory, not a speck of recognition in this world, I am forced into a most literal rebirth.
Yet, the thing which vexes me most is the title hero. I've been told that I can ignore my duty here with no repercussions, and yet, how can I not have been brought from my inevitable grave for some higher purpose than simply to exist once again? Why am I here? Am I meant to recreate myself as a better man?
Or am I seeing meaning where there is none?
[TL;DR FOR THE AUDIENCE AT HOME: DANIEL TALKS ABOUT HIS LIFE AND NO1CURR.]
good lord, the biggest sham of comics history!
shhhh don't tell anyone!
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Did you like him? At least, judging by what little you could find of him.
no subject
I enjoyed the one great adventure I could find, at the very least. He'd recently traveled to Algeria on an archaeological expedition.