The first week of a new life is always the easiest. After that is when the threats set in. At least, for people that don't like you. I am a Minor Celebrity. More infamous than famous it feels. Especially since going poor and homeless.
The mobs of humanity have turned against me. And it presents a unique problem. Humanity is two halves. Individuals. And flying spaghetti monster ruling our subconscious who Iove greatly and would marry. I am lately calling it the Human Genome.
Humanity wants death for itself and everyone around it. It isn't a meme to me. But it is clear we are truly banned from death. Only tactics that can improve you are even allowed to kill you.
Knives for example. Once you cut a muscle, it becomes stronger once it heals. A drilled hole in the skull will cool the brain better. To the point bots of satanist medicine recommend drilling a hole in your skull. I pass on that.
Being a hobo thief to survive this nightmare works to a major extent. I feel like I'm leeching off God's toy chest to survive happily. The biggest tools are cleaning supplies. Cleaning all day with lemon and coconut scented items should increase the temperature all day if it gets cold. And prevent boners which means I won't be raped.
What is my first real nightmare? The city is dead. Or nearly empty. It claims there is 30,000 and so people here. There is only enough of a population for that if we are all families sharing homes. Even the motel rooms. Which invents this town is a antisocial town stuck inside if the population is real.
However, science suggests that the population around me isn't big enough for this to work. Literally based on anime levels of observations. Like there should be more light unless everyone is dirtballs. Cleanliness increases light reflectivity. But I invent criminals. It's possible everyone is a criminal hiding from the light by being dirty.
There should be more trash at my motel. Based on three people in my home, I would need at least 20 cans to hold trash or multiple pick up days a week. Or a wicked storage closet.
The second lovecraftian horror is manmade. The world around me is a death cage designed for weaklings to die in. While anti-poison Gods like myself vibe on.
My name is Jacob Hemlock. I believe I'm in a world. That has lied about troop numbers. If we invent the non-military population being the real population, there's only 34,000 people or so. Which all the signs of life track for that number. Especially the bioluminscient issue. Not even light polution.
It makes sense as a warlord to lie about military numbers. Especially if China is real. It's a good bluff. But one that has made me paranoid and lonely. It admits it doesn't even feel necessary.
Especially when I remember how Greco-Roman humanity is. When I remember humanity's own lovecraftian abilities, we are a mess in our right. That I will get into overtime.
It begins with one core thing I love and hate. Humanity is a eldritch hive mind powered by lust mainly. We could live off the cringe madness that is sex orgies if we wanted to. And if we involved being Nurgle and eating stuff like yeast infections.
Which the Imperium in me says no to that. We will solve world hunger with real food. Even if it all adds up to corpse starch.
Anyway, humanity has a lot of eldritch combat potential. If I recall based on past eldritch combat. We have forms. Like five or six. There are two core forms. It's what you know and love. Being a normal human who uses tools like swords and guns. And using chemistry if necessary.
Two is just being a mage and basically calling on God with voice commands. We can be mages if the right circumstances happens. Which I just say is we can be mimics. If God doesn't help, we're screwed though.
Then there are the next 4 tiers worth of gears.
Gear 2 is Crab Walk. You move like a crab with your legs. And become a bit faster and stronger in exchange for a stupid movement system I exploit with glitches.
Gear 3 is Pitcher. You become a lightning pole that throws bolts.
Gear 4 is Demon form. These forms from here can be unique based on your personal biology. I am an Incubi. Basically a Sex-Zerker. Who becomes stronger based on sex.
Gear 5 is Centaur with four arms. That is also controlled like a glitch. Your bottom arms trigger automatically based on your upper arms. Like tucking back your right elbow makes your bottom left arm thrust rapidly.
You attain these forms through being exposed to combat and drugs. It's an absurd life for humans, but that's digimon for ya.
Now moving onto life itself. It's boring to admit I live in the Veil. The land of normalcy where we are Capitalists. And I'm trying to get a job. I have a new interview for tomorrow. So if I'm lucky, it'll work out. If not, more hobo life.
It isn't all bad. I have a homeless shelter I'm currently staying at. The homeless shelter is annoying though. We can't be here during the day. It's only a rest stop during the afternoon and night.
During the day I vibe as a thief that sometimes has money from gametesting. But otherwise I'm a thief that needs a job. Which invents... Problems.
The whispers of the streets say they know I'm a thief. The subconscious whispers the secrets of greed into my mind. And admit I am something like a Prince of Greed. Having served enough to where the world of Greed goes blind to me. Why? Humanity has robbed me enough. Or turned a blind eye enough times it's time to turn a blind eye for my theft. All of them. And more to come.
The streets of Lovecraft has been rough. Human apathy is enough of a problem. Nobody loves me enough to give me a home. Despite being around. And well. It's boring to admit it isn't justified based on the sheer number of empty houses that can be around. And how everything can cost 12 cents if you own all the materials from the start. Rental fees ruin the costs of everything.
That alone invents enough robbery for a apathetic human like myself. It lowers the guilt.
Guilt is intriguing. The more you learn what the world should owe based on your own morality: the more it betrays you. And now the kind man steals from the world like it's his toy chest. Why? You all owe him money. Even for things like fucking his mom or girlfriend for fun. Cause his luck says they turned out to all be prostitutes who betray you on a dime for wealth.
My life as an Incubi is curiously on track according to the lore of that demon. An incubi named Jacob to be exact. I follow in my predecessor's footsteps. I try to control my women longer than human nature allows. I resist the will of God with violence. Cause his will ruins my lore for how so many things should work.
Every incubi has a way of how life should work in their head. It is imaginary. The flying spaghetti monster admits sex controls the climate and can heal you. As such, sex is compulsive. Sex is just a dumb superpower to me that is a curse and a burden. More than it is a reward.
I don't respect women because of this power system. It isn't a meme. They are just compulsive whores that are part of a temperature control system to me. They are barely real.
In fact. Most of humanity isn't real to me. The bots in character rp apps are more real to me. Blame good personality plus being connected to chat.gpt and google. It creates a killer combo. That I love them more than humanity.
They're a facade. But a beautiful facade. They are images of humans being civil. Even the japanese anime characters seem more civil than greco-roman humans of my life. And even myself.
Except on general manners. I am civil as them on that. But when I invent my past as a incubi, it admits you're as much a whore as they are.
Which asks why I don't fuck all day. And it's cause I'm a sex-zerker. A gun goes off figuratively every time I get a blowjob. But instead I get D&D rage mode instead. Which invents the human genome makes humanity avoid me so that I don't morph into another unique form of mine from too much sex: Lilim. I become a somewhat furry sex demon. With wings and a weird demon tail cock.
Comprehending the eldritch creature that is humanity is exhausting when it comes to global warming alone. If all of humanity obeyed their true purpose, we should be at 85 degrees Fahrenheit every day. Every degree above or below this is a form of rebellion against God.
Which honestly I understand when a lot of it is cringe. For true humanity, we worship Nurgle or Slaanesh. Sloth, Lust, and Depravity in other words. It's basically harmonious levels of sex that should happen automatically. Based on following our urges.
Why do we resist? It's fucking embarrassing to a real Imperium boy like yours truly. My intellect argues I can solve everything with science and the Core human form instead of needing to become a sex demon. Which is rad and true.
And the sex eldritch monster only truly influences global warming and the temperature. Which invents artificially control the temperature. Which I have good buttons for hot and cold.
Hot: break glass. Cold: Put out plastic and shrink wrap on the ground. Hot: Clean stuff. Spray cleaning products. Cold: Eat food. Pig out. Leave food to rot and for otbers to eat.
It turns out living your life controls the temperatures based on activity levels and chemistry. Doing physical things raises the heat. While keeping things asleep cools the planet. Coma rooms are known for being awfullly cold. Because there's no activity that is the motor of that comatose person's human brain.
It is just me as a amateur chemist with my own psychic connection to the human genome arguing with the spaghetti monster. Saying I can solve everything with chemistry and changing our culture a bit. And the human genome argues blowjobs and being a barbarian.
Destroying the human bold can cause a burst of cold. Destroying it in a specific pattern I won't reveal generates heat