Was the Master of Insanity Ever a Baby?
It was a warm February evening in Copacabana Beach, as the three Iberian ladies made their way down the sidewalk. They were there not just on holiday, but on the last gasp bachelorette party.
Camilla Leon, recent graduate of the University of Oxford, was mere days from marrying. She and her friends had chosen Rio during Carnival for their party; and she had no problem spending her father's money on airfare, rooms, and shopping.

The beat of the samba still raged in their ears from a recent parade. As Donna pointed out the beauty of the barely clad women on the floats, her friends Luisa and Camilla laughed.

"Beauties?"

Luisa rolled her eyes.

"Look around you. Every one of those girls will be on a pole somewhere tonight, shaking that same butt for money."
She slapped her own butt and shook it at Donna.
"That's disgusting!" Donna replied.
"Disgusting!" Camilla smiled the smile her friends feared most.
"That's it," she continued. "We need to be as disgusting as we can."
"And what's the prize?"
"Paulo."
Paulo was the hot concierge that the girls were planning to triple team before the trip was over. He had recommended a few upscale clubs for them to attend, then joked to them about a place they would never go.
"Burro Grande."
"What's that?" They asked.
"When the place opened up, they did donkey shows. Cops busted them so many times, they gave up. But the name stuck. And so do the floors."
By sheer coincidence, the girls now stood at its entrance.

They watched three stages of pole dancers do their act to a crowd of men frenzied on cheap liquor and loud music. Donna waited until one took a break. She stepped onstage. As the others looked on, she immediately stripped, and didn't so much pole dancing as much as pole straddling and thrusting. As the song ended, a flurry of cash went her way.

"Beat that."

Luisa had caught the eye of a few not so bad looking tourist guys. She probably could blow one or two and win handily. But that wasn't exactly disgusting. But that's when she saw the bartender.
He was not just old. His hair was gone from his head, save for tufts near his ears. His skin sagged under his eyes. His tattoos were faded into a goopy black stain on both arms, which she could see all of since he was wearing a "wifebeater" tank.

She motioned for him to come around, and for the tourist guys to have him sit on the bar. Then in front of the assembled crowd, she unzipped him. Drawing a breath, she exhaled air and opened wide.

The old man's eyes lit up, remembering days gone by, and ladies that once made him feel the way he did now. The young woman expertly took him in and out. As his demeanor changed from happy to orgasmic, she stopped to let him come. He collapsed backwards as her tourist friends held him from crashing.

Luisa smiled as she showed her "pearl necklace."
"I believe I am winning the disgusting race."

Camilla spied a raincoat on a hook by the door. She stripped, and handed her clothes and purse to her friend. She donned the raincoat and a pair of heels, and went behind the bar to the back alley.

In her finest Portuguese, she asked the darkness. "Well? Is there a man in this alley, or just vermin?"
Soon, a thief, brandishing a knife, came towards her. He smiled, but he seemed...cautious.
Camilla laughed. "Do you know how to mug somebody, or do you need lessons?"
He lunged. She laughed as she grabbed his knife hand. The thief quickly realized he had slashed his own arm.
"Bitch!"
He lunged again. Blood splashed on her raincoat and her body from his wound. She again directed the blade towards his body, where it found its mark on his shoulder. He cried out as the blood spurted towards her. She opened the coat and let it hit her.
She saw her would-be attacker for only a moment longer, as a dark clad figure grabbed him from behind.
The new figure was much taller. Much darker, and much, much more muscular.
He stepped forward. The glint in his eye matched the blade in his hand.
"1916 Imperial Prussian Mauser bayonet. Truly a work of art. Would be a shame to pierce that body of yours with it."
Camilla did not back down.
"Then I suggest you return it to its sheath."
He hovered the bayonet over his belt. A small scabbard, as old as the bayonet, hung low. 
"Nice sheath," she said.
He took a long look at the woman in front of him. The hair from her head dangled down to the tuft above her sex. She stood confidently in his gaze. She took a wider stance as he glanced down.
"Your sheath ain't bad, either."
"I have no sheath here but my vagina."
He cracked a smile.
"That's what the Romans called it."
"I know Latin," she said. "I'm a doctor."
He took another step forward. His arms went between her thighs. He lifted her to his eye level, as her inner thighs balanced on his biceps.
"And I am a god."
In a moment, she was being carried towards the wall. Her raincoat fluttered as her back felt the bricks behind her. He licked the blood off her tits as he plunged deep inside her. Above her, a gutter drained a dirt and grime slurry off the bar roof onto her body as her nameless lover contorted her in every direction possible. Since she had no name to scream, she just cried out "Meu Deus!" until they came.

She staggered back into the bar, naked, save the heels and the savage cocktail of grime, sweat, blood, and sex.

Luisa ran over to her.
"Are you OK?"
She smiled at her friend.
"Of course I am. I have seen God."
But first, Paolo.
***

Winthorp Archibald Keir III was not the type to spend time in a delivery room. He was perfectly content to hear whether his offspring was a boy or a girl. Like his forefathers, he had the male child's name picked long ago. A female child could be picked from many of the fine grandmothers and great grand mamas of years past.

When Camilla delivered, the doctor looked around.
"Is the father here to cut the cord?"
"He's not up to it," the new mother replied.
The child took a moment to adjust to the light. He saw the scalpel in the doctor's hand. Without warning, the newborn grabbed for the handle.
The doctor let go in astonishment.
The child frowned at the attached cord. In a sweeping motion, the baby's arm reached down and severed the cord in one stroke.
His mother laughed, as she realized her newborn's heritage. She cuddled him close to her breast and whispered.
"Hear me, little one. You may need a name in the outside world. But to me, you will be a nameless god. Just like your father."
The nurse asked in a hush, "So, no name?"
Camilla looked to the nurse.
"Put my husband's name as his last name. Someday, my boy will choose his own."



  • Red Haired Devil I'd think his life from birth have been one riddled with outer strife, and inner turmoil that lead to a series disarranging life events,such as spending his first few decades as a dis-tempered and troubled youth. Most of his early unrest stemming from his hatred towards his absent father's abandonment of his mother, as well as his own his own self loathing, for forcing the burden of having to care for misery her, constantly cursing his role in subjecting her to the suffering of loving a demon spawn child of rage and pain.
    His nature would continue to grow increasingly violent, due to the unnatural development of his deity kind's attributes,misshapen from his being born of a mere mortal, and corrupted by the carnal instincts of human nature.
    Later he would think to spite his father and obtain some semblance of redemption, by deciding to lean towards a life of aiding others, and starting his studies into earning a place in the medical field as a neurosurgeon. Upon finishing his education and starting his career he would easily find success through the use of his highly proficient abilities, that would have great affect upon his work.
    Here is where a terrible development would occur in his life that ruptures the illusion of the life he had striven to build, and use as an Insult against his hated father, and serve as a mockery to the notion that he had played any role in the direction his life had taken, and then succumbs to the undeniable control his origins would have upon his inevitable fate in becoming the depraved harbinger of torment that is the Master of Insanity.
    From then on He would accept what he was and embrace his longing to revel in the fires of chaos and madness.
    If this were the base line of Insanity's forsaken background of pain and misfortune, it would certainly leave a great deal of room for unanswered questions to be raised and hidden details to exist. It would also open up a world of directions in which fans could use to create thier own versions of what made Insanity who he is.
    ( left the terrible development out to ensure the mysterious nature of Insanity's past remain unknown)
    • Keiryu Nice analysis. But like I told all my shrinks before. There is nothing wrong with me.

      Trying to understanding me or my mini-me is like trying to mate a potato and a donkey. Their love would never be understood by anyone.

      While I do like your analysis. There is no such thing as self loading in either me or my mini-me. There is also no hate or anger or saddness. There is simply truth and the occasionall whiskey and pie.

      That truth is that everyone is batshit crazy. The world is made that way. Be is God's, demon's, man or beast. Heck earth and the universe itself. They all share one thing in common. It is all IN-FU**ING-SANE. I simply accepted that fact and embrace it.

      That is the truth of the MASTER OF INSANITY!!!

      Then again odds are I probably forget about this tomorrow so it will change...maybe...probably... Definitely..
      • Red Haired Devil Oh man :( , here it went so well with both the ideas of your birth from the loins of a God like being, and your previous career as a neurosurgeon, That grants you your unique ability to use SE to force your victim's brains, into feeling enormous amounts of pain, without even having to cause any physical damage to them.
        Anyways the truth remains, that the ability to inflict pain and suffering, is usually most potent in those who know pain and suffering. However I can also see how the path to madness goes without reason, although sometimes the legend can be just as great as the man.
        • Keiryu Yeah I agree there. My mini-me is pretty much a cheat character anyway. Amongst all the Simmans. I am the only one who can break everyone with a mere touch.

          Sadly that point is kinda moot since just like me. My mini-me does not really give a f**k about most things. Unless it's entertaining and pleases the great mistress INSANITY I just kinda drift in and out of logic. Half the time I myself have no clue what the hell I am doing...
  • Keiryu Aww that's beautiful man q.q

    Well I did say I came out the womb knife in hand. Also no wonder I have this urge to murder god. It's all papa Keir's fault.

    Funny fact. This makes my mini-me the only one who had their literal birth/childhood explored. GO ME!!!

    On another note. Damn I am an adorable baby.
    • kotomifan I had this concept, " So tough, he cut his own umbilical cord." And you can't have a baby that tough without a similar conception.
      • Keiryu I find it funnier because I mentioned the "out the womb knife in hand" just a little before you made this. It fit's so well.
  • SimMan Would love to see your version of Keir and Cesar origins.
    • kotomifan Well, I got Keir out of the womb, but we still have to speculate how his preschool, puberty, and prom went.
      Cesar's a different animal. But with Hank Ngala onboard, I might have a new piece of the puzzle.
      • Keiryu The f**k is puberty do I look like some angsty emo kid. Keiryu don't do that shit.

        Prom now that I can get behind the words "Bloody Hell" never described anything better. Carrie ain't got shit on me.

        As for preschool... Let's just say some things are better left in a hole...a six feet deep hole filled with an assortment of skeletal remains to be precise.
    • Keiryu Funny enough. Nobody cares about our local Robin hood. Poor [25669,Robin]

      Then again compared to a multinational crime boss and that handsome INSANE bastard few can compare in terms of how interesting they are.

      Maybe Antonio could. He has had little action for such an awesome character.
      • Robin But what will happen when everything about you is known. Who'll be the most interesting one then?

        Probably still you actually... :p
        • kotomifan What do you think Neo Robin's origin might be? Hacker? Lego champion? Kid who tried to superglue ants together to make a centipede?
          • Keiryu [25669,Robin]

            Ya not gonna try shoving a guys head up another guys arse are ya?

            Cause if so...count me in.
          • Robin I think nothing I could think of would be as good as what you'd think of...
            That being said, I myself always had a strange obsession with creating centipedes :p
        • Keiryu There will never come a day when everything about me is known. Perks of being a degenerate psychopathic handsomely INSANE bastard.

          Ya can never trust anything that is said about me. For tomorrow it will be different.