05-19-2018, 04:03 PM
and lord, I fashion dark gods too;
He is single-minded, sometimes, forgets that they create other gods. He thinks, or pretends, that he is the only, that there is no one, that his name is synonymous with god, with deity. To plenty, it is – he’s had his share of followers, had statues and lands built in his honor, blood sacrifices aplenty.
The sky flashes for a moment with lightning, his frustration manifested, and then it goes back to normal (as normal as a sky can be when playing host to the dark god, at least).
He sighs as the boy continues with questions. He doesn’t know where the man’s mother is – he can’t even recall her, not specifically, she’d been one of hundreds, taken by stars and galaxies. He could find her, easily enough, but he has no desire to. She doesn’t matter, not unless she comes to him again in her heat, ready for another round.
He answers the second question first.
“You weren’t worthy,” he says, “she left, because you weren’t worthy.”
He sighs, again.
“So few of my children are. The blood gets diluted.”
Shame, that biology compels it. Not that he couldn’t clone himself, but there’s a danger, to that – he has learned to keep nothing close.
“Who am I?”
For moment there is silence. Giving the boy one more chance to guess.
“Carnage,” he says, “I’m Carnage.”
c a r n a g e
sorry he's a jerk!!!