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About Digital Art / Hobbyist Victoria24/Female/United States Group :iconpfh-fanclub: PFH-Fanclub
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I can’t tell you how many times I’ve died.

No, you didn’t read that wrong, I honestly don’t know how many times I’ve died.

Stabbed, autopsied, hit by a car, those are the few I can remember. I’m not immortal, far from it, in fact, but rather trapped in an endless cycle.

Thing is, I’ve died so many times I can’t recall how or why I was trapped in this state.

Among others I can recall, I’ve been burned alive, had my lungs forcibly ejected from my body, been run over by an ambulance, decapitated, poisoned over a long period of time, crushed by falling rocks, exploded, and impaled through the stomach before being thrown back an ungodly amount of meters only to slowly bleed out.

Every single time I die, every single time I awake after each painful death, I wonder why I suffer like this, who I angered, if I can even escape.

I’ll do anything to escape this cycle. Absolutely anything. Hell, just knowing what I did to deserve this would be nice.

The only thing I can recall is my name. That’s it. If you know who I am, for the love of fuck, find someone who knows who I am and, more importantly, if they can find a way to break this cycle or get a message to me.

My name is Diavolo, and I am in hell.
Endless Cycle
A bit of JJBA horror for you all. I thought that, out of all the fates dealt to villains, Diavolo got one of if not the worst.
If there’s a common trend that seems to exist in stories involving autistic characters, it’s that they’re either one of two things: They’re either savants like the guy in Rain Man(who, by the way, was based on a guy who didn’t even have autism but some other mental condition) or they’re just straight-up eccentric weirdos who may or may not have criminal tendencies. The latter particularly baffles me since, well, most of the people I hang out with are more interested in scoring crits in Pokemon or otherwise venting their frustrations in a virtual universe rather than actually decking someone for pissing them off. Most people with autism don’t really have a whole lot of skills aside from, well, being weird.

I should know, since I do have Asperger’s, which is kinda like autism only with fewer down sides.

At any rate, this thought occurred to me when I was hanging out with someone who’s much lower functioning than me. This guy, roughly fifteen or sixteen, was just staring off into space looking at God-knows-what as he held his Princess Celestia toy to his chest. I liked to call him ‘Pony Boy’ whenever I talked about him to friends since, well, he really liked MLP. He couldn’t speak and, as harsh as it sounds, he was more like an animal than a human, since he’d make grunts or scream as opposed to actually talking. That’s when he wasn’t mumbling gibberish to his toy, though.

Getting him out of the house was a Herculean effort, since he hated pretty much everything the out-of-doors had to offer. Ultimately, his mother was able to get him to leave if we took him to Dairy Queen afterwards. Poor guy was so low on the spectrum of functionality he needed one of those leash harnesses(scaled up to young adult size, of course) some little kids get just so he wouldn’t wander off and get lost. I helped his mother because, being hit with Asperger’s myself, I could sympathize with her problems. I mean Hell, I’m pretty much an adult but I’m still a useless lump most of the time.

I’m rambling, though. Point is, we took him outside so he could get some air, which meant she needed help getting him in and out. Well, the weirdest thing happened as I watched him stare at butterflies: All of a sudden, he dropped his toy and pushed me off the bench, jumping on me as if he were trying to shield me from something. His mom tried to get him off, but he refused to move for several minutes. When it was over, he climbed off me, grabbed his toy and resumed staring at butterflies. His mother apologized profusely to me, saying she had never seen him do that before as she helped me up. I just kinda stood there going, ‘what the fuck happened?’

It wasn’t until his nanny, a friendly older woman named Juanita(yeah, stereotypical Mexican name, I know) pulled me aside one day as Pony Boy was watching his favorite show. Juanita had shown up every now and then whenever Pony Boy’s mom went out of town for work. She was a lot like my mom: eccentric, but ultimately harmless. Juanita asked me about what caused Pony Boy to shove me to the ground that one day. I shrugged, replying with something like, ‘I dunno, maybe he thought a butterfly was gonna kill me or something.’ Juanita shook her head and dropped a Fat Man-sized bombshell on me: Pony Boy really was protecting me from something, something I couldn’t see. She then went on this massive tangent about how his condition wasn’t so much some genetic glitch that screwed up his brain, but how it was brought on by something he must have witnessed when he was a baby. She phrased it something like this:
“[Pony Boy] saw something when he was young. Whatever it was, it changed him forever. He’s not like you because he was affected much more deeply. I think what he saw was a glimpse of something we’re never meant to see.”
For a while, I shrugged it off and filed it away in my brain somewhere between ‘Horror movies I want to see but probably never will’ and ‘Nicknames for future Pokemon,’ since I didn’t remember it until recently. I didn’t think about it until I found myself watching Martyrs, a French suspense/horror film categorized as ‘New-Wave French Extremism’ that deals with the concept of mentally damaging someone until they see shit not of our world, on my iPad as Pony Boy stared at butterflies at the park.

Well, it was less actually ‘watching’ and more ‘skipping to the torture sequences,’ since the first part plays out like a revenge movie. No, I’m not psycho, I swear.

At any rate, it’s when I noticed Pony Boy staring at me that I finally took off my earbuds and asked him what was bugging him. Pony Boy could apparently understand English since, well, he responded, but he never spoke it. He pointed at me and babbled something, tracing a circle around my head as he, well, made noise. I looked behind me and…nothing. Not even some rando trolling people while dressed up as Slenderman or Jeff the Killer. Just empty space. I think I humored him and pretended to be scared…but then he gave me a really strange look. It was like he was saying, ‘Really? You’re gonna make fun of me?’ Well, regardless, he didn’t stop staring as I went back to watching a poor French woman get tortured so she could see God. When I got back to his house, Juanita was waiting for us, as his mother had to take off to work. As Pony Boy skipped inside, I took the chance to tell Juanita about what happened at the park.

Her response made my blood momentarily run cold.

She told me that she had been keeping quiet about this since, well, she didn’t want to scare me shitless, but she could see something hanging onto me, something that wasn’t of this world. It didn’t seem to be interested in hurting me, but its presence would wreak havoc with my body. According to Juanita, she suspected that the thing on my back was responsible for me walking around with this overwhelming sense of ‘I just don’t give a shit about anything.’ Now, since I’m one of those people who does believe in God and that there’s stuff out there science will probably never be able to explain, I wasn’t about to ignore her about this, but at the same time, I was still pretty unsure about what she said. Mostly because I was too damn boring for anything to even bother haunting. Mom and I would probably just do a cleansing on our own(and by that I mean getting a bundle of dried rosemary, lighting it and waving it around the house) and forget about it. Anything likely to follow us home would probably be not too different from the way we are at home: they’d just be content to find places to chill out and not bother anyone. Still, it made me wonder about something, which brings me back to the beginning of this little story: What the fuck goes on in the heads of low-functioning autistics that keep them from functioning on a more ‘normal’ level? Well, I may have come up with something after some thought.

Maybe the reason why autistics like Pony Boy are out there is because, like a Lovecraft protagonist, they saw something before they could even speak, something that completely screwed up how they see the world. Maybe Pony Boy couldn’t function like me because he witnessed some unknowable horror that lies beyond the veil and that paralyzed his development. He likely jumped me that day because he was trying to protect me from one of those nameless abominations only he could see.

Guess we’ll never know, though, since I doubt those autistic oracles are gonna be talking any time soon.
Autistic Oracles
Another creepypasta partially influenced by Martyrs, which, spoiler alert, deals with the idea of driving people insane until they see things in other worlds. This one involves less torture and more alternate mental states.
If you know me, chances are you know that I hope to become an author and know a thing or two about how to write a half-decent if not great story. You'll also know that I hate DmC: Devil May Cry with a passion.

Now, unlike some fans, I feel the need to express exactly WHY I hate the new DmC so you know I'm not hating this mindlessly, even though I have not purchased nor have I played the game.

For one thing, as far as I'm concerned, if you're forced to sympathize with a character who's either a whiny fuck or a total douchebag, that's gonna make you lose serious points, regardless of the medium. For example, Bella Swan's a whiny, selfish cunt you just want to beat the shit out of because she's a cocktease who won't stand up for herself who you're FORCED to follow. I hate DINO(Dante In Name Only) because he's whiny and a complete asshole. This doesn't mean I hate the idea of the unlikeable protagonist. Believe it or not, unlikeable protagonists can work, but that's extremely difficult to pull off properly.

Also, I hate it when a story either forgets or makes a half-assed handwave to explain why they're changing something that's part of the canon. If you're gonna change something that's so fucking big, then come up with a solid reason. Claiming that DmC is an alternate universe story after you stated that it's a fucking REBOOT just sounds like frantic backpedaling in order to save your ass. What's more, the complete character derailment further pisses me off. Vergil's counterpart, who I'm either going to call 'Vergin' or VINO(Vergil In Name Only) is the exact opposite of the original Vergil. Yeah, he was an asshole, I get that, but he was an asshole with a fairly strict sense of honor. I'm pretty sure that when dealing with a human who's seven months pregnant or has a child with them, he'd leave them alone, despite possibly muttering something misanthropic. He might despise humans, but I'm pretty sure that he'd leave a mother and child alone. As for Dante, he's not whiny nor is he an asshole...most of the time. Yeah, he's cocky and mouths off to demons, but who wouldn't if you have the power of a ridiculously powerful demon and KNOW it'll take more than what they can throw at you to kill you for good? More importantly, his activities when he isn't slaying demons are IMPLIED. It's IMPLIED that he has lots of casual sex. What's more, he doesn't use vulgar curses. Note I said VULGAR. Dante does curse, but not constantly or with incredibly crude language like 'fuck,' 'cunt,' etcetera.

Finally, I have to agree with :iconrave-oh-lution: on this one: the dude who runs Ninja Theory looks a lot like DINO. Hell, he said that he made DmC to appeal to himself, much like how Meyer said she wrote the Twilight books to appeal to her own tastes. It's one thing to make something for yourself, but it's another thing to do that and expect other people to like it. It's fucking retarded. If he wanted to play out his fantasy of being a badass demon slayer, he should have written a fucking fanfic or found someone to RP with in private. Hell, I do it with my buddy :icondefenderkaotena: all the damn time!

Point is, I don't care what its redeeming qualities are, if you have a shitty protagonist, it's gonna ruin everything else about whatever you're working on. The gameplay might be solid, the story might be passable and the music alright, but a crappy protagonist is gonna destroy everything good or at least decent about your game.

I'm done, I'm gonna get ready for bed now, but not before saying this: ISN'T DEVIL MAY CRY TOO YOUNG AND TOO SUCCESSFUL TO EVEN FUCKING NEED A REBOOT?!
  • Mood: Not Impressed
  • Listening to: CtC - Last Word Theme: Lunar Clock ~ Luna Dial
  • Reading: nothing
  • Watching: nothing
  • Playing: nothing
  • Eating: nothing
  • Drinking: nothing

Journal History


Artist | Hobbyist | Digital Art
United States
Birthdate: April 24, 1991
Gender: Female
Random Notes: Left eye tends to turn outward, very high-functioning autistic, has a constantly present cloud of doom over head.

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Pixie-van-Winkle Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2014
Thanks a lot for the watch!! :la:
SpiritauraForce Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2014
Happy Birthday. ^^
Casandraelf Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thank you!
merymmx Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2014
:party:Happy birthday:party:
Casandraelf Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thank you ^^
furbearingbrick Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy birthday!
Casandraelf Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
why thank you ^^
SaiyanWarrior2015 Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
hi! ^^
SaiyanWarrior2015 Featured By Owner Jan 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
hello :poke:
Casandraelf Featured By Owner Jan 28, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
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