|see, that's nice and all, but i kinda feel like my name is more of a found name.|
a spaceship crash landed on a far flung earth colony, scattering parcels far and wide across the barely populated, desolate wasteland.
some of those parcels, clearly the important ones, were wrapped in a thick red tarpaulin and labelled with striking symbols and words from languages unknown to these, the distant relatives of the society that sent their ancestors on their fateful mission to nowhere all those years ago.
the leader of the party ripped a section of a tarpaulin and, seeing that it was strong and durable, fashions for it a cloak.
a finer cloak against the elements he would not find, and the others knew his example to be good. on their way home they decided to take new names to honour their divine property, and began to argue about what these names should be.
they took their bright gifts from the heavens, their cloaks of magical warmth, to the truth sayer and knower of words.
they knew him as wise, and as like as any to be able to pronounce the strange syllables of the long dead language. he can read, they know, because he has often told them so.
they have seen him read from the great book, and his stoies are good.
unfortunately he is not able to translate.
he read the words, allowing his imagination to complete where his knowledge could not, finding meaning for these alien sounds in his own mind.
upon these regal rags he imagines great titles, worthy of writing on a gift from the gods to these brave warriors.
finding these sounds to be good, the group made a pact, to take the names of their gifts as their own, and to remain as brothers from that moment until death.
this pact was never to be broken.
'basura infecciosa' died shortly after, as did 'peligro' and 'radioactiv'. 'biohazard' still lives, but has become so riddled with sores that he cannot open his eyes or his mouth, and will surely die soon.
me and 'giftig' are the only ones left, stumbling ignorantly through our foreshortened lives, slowly dying, unaware that the gods themselves have sealed our fate with their gifts.
see, it is me... just not in any meaningful sense.