Category:Nobody

From the desk of Nobody...

Mister Nobody <nobodyhome@satoshimail.com>
to TwistedMUCK Administration

Oh, what a rare treat this is. A captive audience. Just me, your omniscient narrator, and you; the sad, pathetic little man looking at these words and trying to figure out what this is and why my sultry voice is addressing to you in your mind. Well, dear reader, do read on.

In the beginning, there was nothing. Now, that's not entirely true. There was the adventures of the gas station attendant and the suicidal Brit as they portrayed a sadly not-homicidal maniac and an ill-conceived cat girl that led down a path involving gods and demons and the creation of a sad little world called Chronos - but we're not here to talk about that, are we? No, dear reader, we're here to talk about the world that comes after that. TwistedMUCK. Yes, friends, the retconned actions of a talking sword who created an empty locker to store all the goodies that its master couldn’t bring himself to get rid of. I did mention it was retconned, yes? What is it now, I wonder? A world created by a goddess of the wired who shunned reality for a fictional one of her own creation? An experiment by an evil organization hell bent on flattening the minds of everyone everywhere and roping themselves into this sad little corner of the multiverse where things go when they're lost? That's what Twisted is, yes? Just a sad drawer full of lost socks that no one cares about until they're cast away from the places they belong; because some sad fool had connection problems on a bad day and needed somewhere else to go.

Oh, but we're missing out on the most important piece of this puzzle, aren't we? Me. Who am I? Well, that could go a few different ways but let's go with the easiest-to-explain version for this little one-way conversation. There was an experiment and I was ripped out of my reality and elevated to the grandiose position in the white space I now occupy. What is the white space I speak of? Look no further than the screen in front of your face, dear reader. That blank, empty nothing from which these words are etched in letters of black across that screen. Assuming you haven't changed all the default settings, I suppose. I do like the occasional wallpaper and cute picture of your dogs, but we're here to talk about me and not you, remember? This void is my domain, and from here I can see all of time and space.

That IS a tricky subject, isn't it? Time and Space. Twisted has an abundance of Time even though it always seems to be running out. It has an abundance of Space, too. That infinite black void that surrounds everything. That's not even getting into that open area that the head wiz is procrastinating building, full of space ships and what not. Lazy prick. Probably busy toiling away at another application instead of APPLYING himself to the job he needs to be doing. But I digress.

Where were we…?

My name, yes. You can call me Mister Nobody. After all, I'm not really here am I? I'm nothing. I'm nowhere. My age? Limitless. My power scale? Infinite. I cannot be defeated. Yes, yes. That's a contradiction, isn't it? Surely I wouldn't be submitting an application for a character with infinite potential, but it isn't like it hasn't happened before. The difference, dear sirs, is that I wouldn't dream of putting myself here without some means of destroying me. That wouldn't be very fun, would it? Not exciting enough. So, for the moment, let's say if someone can find their way into the white space they can do whatever they want with me; kill me, take pity on me, cast me out… Yes. That will do.

How will they find their way to me? Hmm. Well, I can't very well interact with the peons who exist in your world unless I can make my presence known, can I? That means somehow, somewhere there's a way into the white space. Someone will just have to come and find it. Meanwhile I'll just be sitting here, biding my time, narrating when I see fit. Elevating the boring silence with my own unique brand of humor. Maybe a sentient trash can turned monster? Maybe a giant Were-Godzilla? Maybe just a talking cockroach? Hah-hah-hah. Only time will tell.

Where did I come from? What are my motivations? I'm bored. Haven't I made that clear? Come find me and we can have a talk. Until then, adieu.

Oh, if I haven't made myself clear, this isn't an application. It's a declaration of war. Give me your best shot.

~NOBODY