Lucious Jabroni's Questionnaire

Ahh Chicago! What a dump. Been here all my life since I was born. Mother and father for some reason didn't leave this place but what do I care? They kicked me out of the house at 18 telling me to fend for myself. Tried getting jobs here and there but nobody ever kept me around for too long. There was always somebody new coming in to steal my work and livelihood. I've been around every single fast food join around here but nothing's had anything as comfy as this here Wendy's damp hole. Nobody goes around trying to kick me out of here, nobody bothers me, easy access to the food they dump out at night, close to no security. Look it ain't pretty but its a living...

Luckily enough for me, I've always had some pretty fast hands. It makes getting to the cash register pretty darn easy whenever I feel like going out for some extra, actually warm grub late at night. I don't need to spend too much on anything cause how the hell am I expected to pay taxes? I'm living as far as the governments concerned completely off grid! No property tax, close to no food and water expenses, no family or friend or ... really any other kinds of attachments to worry about. Living the dream man... living the dream...

I want to be recognized, honored, feared, glorified. The world doesn't understand just how much potential lies in me, and I will do whatever it takes to show them all. I'll teach them to fear me... No matter how many kick me to the wayside and beat me down and pity my mere existence... No matter how many I have to wound, maime, hospitalize, or even kill. I'll be the most powerful, the embodiment of power, absolute power. I'll take steps, slowly and carefully. Nobody sees me now, and they're willing to kill a nobody. What sort of impression can I make if I'm dead? That's the difference between the world and I, they fear those they know. I challenge them. *crawls back into the brush*

Gotta say, a month in the psych ward was pretty damn boring. Who leaves somebody in a white room for a week? Who has a freaking stark white room in the first place? How do they get the paint to be so white? How did they manage to paint the room and keep focus? What's below the white flecks I stared at? What's below the white flecks that stared back? Anyways, I had a lot of time to think and plan... Plan what? You don't need to know... yet. You'll understand one day. One day. Want some Wendy's?

I never did explain how I managed to get stuck in a psych ward... One day about 6 years ago, I started mindlessly practicing knife tricks with myself with my pocket knife in a park. A kid came over and asked if he could try. God, everybody I knew looked at me in such an annoying, confused, pitying, disgusted way... It's not my fault the kid didn't follow instructions. He had apparently watched videos about butterfly knives and I told him it wouldn't work out if he didn't know the basics. One slip up and he lost grip of the knife and somehow managed to fling it into his throat. God, people these days are so incredibly stupid. Anyways, after that, it was a back and forth of breaking ties with the people I once knew.

Mom and Pops couldn't stand having a murderer as a son. They threw me out on the streets as soon as they learned what had happened... Of course, without me being able to explain my side of the story. Went around telling the whole family, as extended as the extended family could go... Told them all to avoid me at all costs. I couldn't rely on my family from that moment on for anything else. Now? They can all burn in hell for all I care.

My two closest friends, Lance and Alan, god we got into so much trouble. Met them both in highschool and we had been buddies up until the "incident". After they learned what happened with my family, they tried to help me out. Still, they looked at me like I was insane. I hated that isolation with a burning passion. I was to be taken to court the next week. As the days passed, they got more and more anxious until they kicked me out too. They gave me some clothes, some cash, and sent me on my way. I got the backpack I use now and wandered, trying to raise money for a lawyer. Who am I kidding? Who's gonna work for a hobo for 500 bucks when they could work a single lawsuit for a company and earn thousands? I'm thankful those two tried, but they didn't help in any meaningful capacity because they were afraid.

If all that the world can see in me is a bad luck charm, some kind of plague, something to be feared and avoided... Fine, I'll teach the world to fear me.

Look, my childhood wasn't actually bad, but I still have the right to complain. My mom and dad were Mr. and Mrs. Jabroni, lawyers by trade, and loving beyond compare... until you make a big enough mistake. School was alright, nothing was very interesting but I got to mess around with my knives after school which took up most of my time after homework. Nothing ever really got in the way but nothing ever really felt exciting. I walked to the local arcade a ton and met a couple of people there, nobody of note enough to talk about now though... they all disappeared shortly after the "incident". Highschool was really the only kinda cool part of my life where I met my two friends from highschool, but I already covered them earlier. Nothing about my previous life matters, just that I'm here now and I can't let anything get in my way. Not my past, not my future, all I can control is the here and now and I will wrestle life itself into what I want.

Love? What is love? Baby don't hurt me. Yea no, I've never loved anybody other than my parents and my friends, and ever since they abandoned me, I don't think I'm capable of loving anybody anymore. The only thing I can truly love now are my knives, my clothes, my backpack, and me. My positions are only thing that deserve my love. Love... love love love love loooooove. Just a word used by dreamers who end up dead. That's why I won't end up dead, I don't have anything to hold me back. Knives, myself, my flexability, that's all I need to get the world to notice me. I don't need love now, so I can be loved... or feared by the world when I'm done with it.

Fear... You know, love and fear are very much connected. You fear hurting the things you love, and eventually, you learn to love the things you fear otherwise it'll eat away at you and kill you. My biggest fear? People live each of their lives thinking they'll always have a tomorrow to make things better. They don't understand the value of their own time and put things off for tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Why do people think that living like they have all the time in the world works? I know my time is limited, I know I probably can die every single day. That's why I can't allow myself to feel sorry for things I've done, especially when it comes to people who can't see value in their own lives. I see value in all of theirs, but they make it meaningless... That's why I can't feel sorry for taking their lives, because it doesn't mean anything. They haven't made any memories that will persist after they are gone. That's why I'll be different. Everybody will know me, one day, and they will remember me for eons. Maybe some people will try to be like me, what an honor that would be, to influence the world to understand the value of life... If I can't do that... What does it matter if I existed or not.. I CAN'T ALLOW MYSELF TO FALL INTO OBSCURITY LIKE THE REST OF THE WORLD ALLOWS ITSELF TO. EVERYBODY WILL REMEMBER LUCIOUS JABRONI, THE MANIAC WHO LOVES KNIVES, WENDY'S, AND ABOVE ALL, RIGHTIOUS MURDER!

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Biggest problem right now... Nobody really knows me. I hate that, but I'm a patient man. Eventually, everybody in every society will understand me and my drives, my devotions, my existence. What Makes me tick? Not sure. Oh yeah, I also don't have enough knives... Ever since I got my hands on this Coat of Arms, my head's been brewing with ideas and ideas and ideas and even more ideas. I definitely don't have enough knives. I'm pretty sure this coat and I are gonna get along just fine since we tend to work together towards a common goal a lot. I just have to make sure I take this coat off when I'm asleep otherwise baaaaad things will happen. I guess that's another problem but whatever, it's not too big of one. Honestly, everything seems to be going my way. I have adventures with my friends pretty often and I get some time to rest in between. It's nice to have a family again...

I get up whenever I feel, grab a knife, try controlling another 4 telekinetically as accurately as I possibly can into grains of sand, sometimes into cups and cans and local racoons whenever they show up cause they're annoying. Then I set them down and head out for lunch. The Wendy's usually has some extra food around noon since.. well its customers in Chicago... I don't even think I need to explain the customers, its just Chicago. Anyways, I walk in when the business starts slowing and ask for the extras. I hand over a $50 bill to the cashier that's been there for... well forever really. How long have they been working that counter? Anyways... they give me the leftovers and I'm set for the week, they even let me get a soda every once in a while. I walk out, finish my food, and start slashing at the leftover cartons and bottles. If there's ever any cash I see blowing in the wind, I scoop it up with a knife and pull it back. It's like fishing believe it or not...

I shake off the dirt, maybe head to the local homeless shelter and use their services to get cleaned up and wash clothes... But aside from that... Not much. Ever since the halloween party, I've had these shades which I keep on me just in case. And I've got the coat that I'm wearing now and another black coat which tends to be a bit more... rough... Outside of that, I've got t-shirts and jeans... I really should start digging up dirt and ground... This place has been my home for a pretty long time and I don't think I'm getting evicted any time soon. There are plenty of pipes I can leech a bit off of in my area... Maybe I'll start working on this over the next couple of months. A bit of home renovations I guess. I could set up my own stove, and washing machine, and maybe even add a light or two... It'll all have to be underground though... Can't let anybody get too suspicious around here. 

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Well my knife came from a company after my first contract. They asked me what I wanted and I gave them specifications. A knife that could extend and retract. Simple as! Turns out, they went above and beyond. I was thinking it would be a gravity assisted folding knife, BUT NO, this thing uses hyper compressed and temperature resistant gas to extend the point 50 feet in any direction. And of course it gets retracted by ionizing the gas inside to reset to its original location, vacuuming the knife back to its original shape. The "blade" is atomically smooth and uses the attraction of electrons moving from one side of an atom to another to hold onto its target. Makes sure you can't easily pull out the blade. It's pretty convenient too if somebody tries ripping it out of themselves as the metal expands and the rings which the point slides into tears chunk after chunk like a cookie cutter. Anyways, that's enough about my knife. Everything else has to do with the second contract and beyond. After I got that golden tattoo and that voice told me I would be feared, stuff I was already decent at before became even more powerful.. slowly, but definitely more powerful.

I can't say I'm much of a religious man. If there is a god, I'll be sure to shank him too. When I see Satan, I'll slice his balls off and feed em to him. If I meet Cthulhu well I'm already insane so not much would happen there so maybe I'll have some calamari with white wine to piss off old tentacle face. All that really matters to me is that I survive as long as I possibly can and make sure my memory persists cause life is short and ideas last forever. Parents wanted me to go to church as a young young kid and I did what I was told, but eventually I got bored, told my parents I didn't want to go, and surprisingly enough they let stay home. From then on I actually stopped caring about the beyond or what comes after. I know what I know and damn the consequences if I don't believe in some mumbo jumbo about the great spaghetti god in the sky.

I'd like to pride myself by saying adaptability is one of my many virtues, as well as good looks and bendy joints. I don't too much care what is and isn't real. Last contract, I learned that hell was a thing and demons have some pretty good looking bods. Nothing beats Beco's though. All I know that's true is I'm alive and I want to keep it that way. I'll learn or do anything in order to make sure I don't go prematurely otherwise who the hell else am I gonna see when I'm drinking with Satan? If I'm going, I'm taking assholes who get in my way with me. Anywho, what's beautiful is that I know I'm a great man and nothing done so far has been able to prove me wrong. I fought a horde of centipede water drinkers, cultists who worship gold thats liquid at room temperature, more cultists who worship the void, a couple of kids in costumes, animal traffickers, some bad mathmatitions, some prison guards, and an old man who just wanted nothing more than to die.