Description:
A Willing Canvas.
My little masochist.
Previously — there was Patchers.
"I have said before that I've had difficulties finding an outlet for my creative side. My Chaos was my creativity. It was a force begging to be used, an itch that needed scratching. A curiosity in a young mind that demanded satisfaction.
Though there certainly were plenty of inanimate objects for me to bend to my hearts content, Toys and furniture had become juvenile things. There is something about growing up that makes you push the limits. As you are just learning where the lines of society are drawn. (and more importantly why.) Somehow that which is forbiden becomes the most enticing. And there was nothing as facinating to me as the warping of another being.
As such, any animal that lived with me for any extended period of time would inevitably find itself exposed to the warping powers of chaos.
It was what made young little me something of a Social pariah. Both in society and in the animal kingdom. It is what drove all potential pets away from me.
All except him…
Patchers was a former LabRat who had ended up on mothers sanctuary by unknown means. I dont know where he came from, or what had been done to him. Though most would agree there was someting wrong with him, His particular brand of Crazy was actually what made him perfect for me.
Most creatures have a limit to how much they can be wrapped before their mind and being begin to revolt.
The mind is designed to run a body of a particular design. When that design is deviated from, such as through the loss of a limb, or the adding of appendages, It instills a sense of wrongness in the mind. The further the design is deviated, the greater the sense of wrongness.
With him — I could realy puch those limits, cause he did not seem to have any. He reveled in having his body warped and twisted. The bigger the changes – the further his form was broken – the better.
Patchers – He relished as his mortal shell was morphed like play doh. He longed for having the seams of his flesh torn and twisted. Things that would made others go screaming in terror made him giggle himself giddy. The things that would send other spines into shivers only made his tingle with delight."
My little masochist.
Previously — there was Patchers.
"I have said before that I've had difficulties finding an outlet for my creative side. My Chaos was my creativity. It was a force begging to be used, an itch that needed scratching. A curiosity in a young mind that demanded satisfaction.
Though there certainly were plenty of inanimate objects for me to bend to my hearts content, Toys and furniture had become juvenile things. There is something about growing up that makes you push the limits. As you are just learning where the lines of society are drawn. (and more importantly why.) Somehow that which is forbiden becomes the most enticing. And there was nothing as facinating to me as the warping of another being.
As such, any animal that lived with me for any extended period of time would inevitably find itself exposed to the warping powers of chaos.
It was what made young little me something of a Social pariah. Both in society and in the animal kingdom. It is what drove all potential pets away from me.
All except him…
Patchers was a former LabRat who had ended up on mothers sanctuary by unknown means. I dont know where he came from, or what had been done to him. Though most would agree there was someting wrong with him, His particular brand of Crazy was actually what made him perfect for me.
Most creatures have a limit to how much they can be wrapped before their mind and being begin to revolt.
The mind is designed to run a body of a particular design. When that design is deviated from, such as through the loss of a limb, or the adding of appendages, It instills a sense of wrongness in the mind. The further the design is deviated, the greater the sense of wrongness.
With him — I could realy puch those limits, cause he did not seem to have any. He reveled in having his body warped and twisted. The bigger the changes – the further his form was broken – the better.
Patchers – He relished as his mortal shell was morphed like play doh. He longed for having the seams of his flesh torn and twisted. Things that would made others go screaming in terror made him giggle himself giddy. The things that would send other spines into shivers only made his tingle with delight."
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