Largely because my death was an embarrassing hunting accident. I was mistaken for a deer, and the hunter who sicc'd his dogs on me had to mercy kill me after they mauled me nearly to death. We were too far away for any medical intervention that would've saved me.
I'd appreciate you not spreading that around, by the way.
[It's humiliating enough when getting startled by dogs can do something ridiculous like chase him up a tree.]
The point is that this man here is someone very different than who I am now. That isn't to say he wasn't a killer and didn't eat his victims -- he was and did -- but he wasn't the sadist I can be. A clean and efficient kill was always his style after he'd taken the time to select an appropriate target.
He was the friendly voice on the radio to so many people. A welcome if unseen guest to those from all walks of life. He was a personal companion to a few people in particular who had no knowledge of his darker activities. He wasn't regarded as a monster to be avoided at all costs, and I remember hearing my coworkers eulogize me over the radio even after I came down here. It was quite humbling to hear how high in regard they'd held me and how my unfortunate demise had affected them.
When I died and went to Hell, I initially tried to keep my activities quiet like when I was alive. No one took me seriously or even considered me a threat. If anything, they thought me utterly ridiculous. I only revealed myself when the screams in my broadcast became too loud for people to dismiss anymore, so Hell at large learned what happened to their old overlords who'd "disappeared". I went from being a ridiculous nobody to the most feared sinner in Hell literally within hours. I became Hell's boogeyman and would remain as such even despite a recent seven-year absence. I still selected my targets very carefully but wholesale slaughter wasn't off the table if everyone in attendance met my criteria. No more sneaking around and hiding. I was no longer the friendly voice on the radio.
[He looks at his living self contemplatively.]
But despite being so different, he's still me, and I'm still him. Reverein proved it beyond a reasonable doubt even before I brushed off the old format to be the friendly voice on the radio again. For starters, we both hunt the worst of the worst so that those weaker than us can sleep peacefully at night. I might be more unsettling than he was, but we enjoy others' company and other little tiny details.
He became me when he died, but I never fully stopped being him. I just express other aspects of him that he felt ashamed of or otherwise hid for various reasons. It's one reason I didn't change my name like so many others who went to Hell: We are both Alastor, just different facets of that same person.
no subject
I'd appreciate you not spreading that around, by the way.
[It's humiliating enough when getting startled by dogs can do something ridiculous like chase him up a tree.]
The point is that this man here is someone very different than who I am now. That isn't to say he wasn't a killer and didn't eat his victims -- he was and did -- but he wasn't the sadist I can be. A clean and efficient kill was always his style after he'd taken the time to select an appropriate target.
He was the friendly voice on the radio to so many people. A welcome if unseen guest to those from all walks of life. He was a personal companion to a few people in particular who had no knowledge of his darker activities. He wasn't regarded as a monster to be avoided at all costs, and I remember hearing my coworkers eulogize me over the radio even after I came down here. It was quite humbling to hear how high in regard they'd held me and how my unfortunate demise had affected them.
When I died and went to Hell, I initially tried to keep my activities quiet like when I was alive. No one took me seriously or even considered me a threat. If anything, they thought me utterly ridiculous. I only revealed myself when the screams in my broadcast became too loud for people to dismiss anymore, so Hell at large learned what happened to their old overlords who'd "disappeared". I went from being a ridiculous nobody to the most feared sinner in Hell literally within hours. I became Hell's boogeyman and would remain as such even despite a recent seven-year absence. I still selected my targets very carefully but wholesale slaughter wasn't off the table if everyone in attendance met my criteria. No more sneaking around and hiding. I was no longer the friendly voice on the radio.
[He looks at his living self contemplatively.]
But despite being so different, he's still me, and I'm still him. Reverein proved it beyond a reasonable doubt even before I brushed off the old format to be the friendly voice on the radio again. For starters, we both hunt the worst of the worst so that those weaker than us can sleep peacefully at night. I might be more unsettling than he was, but we enjoy others' company and other little tiny details.
He became me when he died, but I never fully stopped being him. I just express other aspects of him that he felt ashamed of or otherwise hid for various reasons. It's one reason I didn't change my name like so many others who went to Hell: We are both Alastor, just different facets of that same person.