Kill the Numbers [Dark Data]

[Guu]

Hidden, buried.

If Dama were featured in a movie, she would be diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder. Of course, as many things featured in movies, that is not how that condition works. And even then, she had far surpassed those boundaries.

Her mind was a warzone. No, that’s not correct. Her mind was a democracy.

Same difference really.

Her minds, the personalities she’d create, they’d always stand court, deciding what story should come next. It was their sole duty; they’d even give up control if it was for the purpose of the narrative. So many times, many would cry out in unison, too often the story speaks for itself, but it’s when the story gets too convoluted or boring that violence will break out amongst her minds.

Deep in Dama’s being, shunned from her many personalities, was the most feared one of all. When the minds decided to hate Guu for what she did to them, she was the only personality to stand for her. She dared call her a Sensei. For these crimes, she was locked away, held captive in the area where they kept the poop related memories.

Her minds so rarely ever set her free. Only a cause of great importance would allow them to release her, let alone take control.

Only a cause, for a hero.

Dama’s Playlist:

[spoiler][/spoiler]

The fro’d hero stepped through the Ashen’s gate. The Nexus behind her warped and disappeared as the fiery landscape took its place. For such a hotly contested verse, she half-expected the fight to have found it’s way to the gate. Outside lava geysers and the sound of stirring molten rock, it was oddly quiet. If cheesy Matrix music wasn’t playing off her phone that moment to accompany her arrival, it would have been dead silence all around her.

This is why she brings her own soundtrack.

She took a deep breath, taking a great deal of sulfur aroma into her lungs as she did a number of stretches just a few feet from the gate. She laughed and smiled.

“It’s so great to be free!” She yelled out as she did cartwheels on the hot surface. “I would have gone mad if I had to sit through that diarrhea memory again!”

She did multiple flips into the air before landing perfectly on her feet. She took a bow to an imaginary audience.

“Hehe, thank you thank you! And no worries, I don’t mind the diarrhea memory. It’s unpleasant until it’s over, then it’s quite nice! Hahaha!”

As she rose from her bow, she noticed she wasn’t alone. Two fairly short figures in cloaks stood before her, their beaks sticking out from their hoods. Seeing she was done doing her pointless acrobatics, they approached the old woman.

“We apologize,” the right one said. “you look like the woman we were sent to retrieve.”

“Oh my! How did you know to look for me?”

“You sent our higher ups twelve e-mails.” Responded the left one.

“Oh, right, sorry.” She said. She was kind of a different person when she wrote those. She turned off the phone and put it away, giving her full attention to the pair. “Please continue.”

“You said you wanted to join our cause?” The left koopa asked.

“More than anything. I have a personal stake in this verse now, I don’t want to see the darkness to swallow it.”

The pair turned towards each other and whispered a small exchange. Then they turned back towards Dama.

“Okay. The path towards the battlefield is wrought with monsters, but we know a path that’ll take you straight there.” Explained the right one.

“Please, follow us so the boss can see you.” Said the left one as he bowed politely.