The gibbous moon cast a soft, radiant glow upon the jagged, shadowy sillhouettes of the trees, set against a field of the deepest black. Against the silvery moonlight, a shadow wound in and out amongst the trees and bushes. A man, perhaps. Or perhaps, not quite a man. Perhaps something less. Or perhaps, something more.
Were one to look at the strange figure in a full light, one would see what appears to be a human male, with an apparent age somewhere between twenty five and thirty, with shoulder-length brown hair the color of chestnut, and eyes the color of emeralds. However, the darkness which surrounded him took away the seeming normalcy of his appearance, and lent him a much more diabolical aura.
His eyes, under Sol's fiery gaze, might indeed have seemed like mirrors, reflecting back all which appeared in them. Under Luna's more gentle light, those emeralds shone with an unholy green fire, flickering and flaring in perfect harmony with the ebb and flow of his restless spirit. His face was adorned with painted designs of black and blue, drawn in the ancient style of a people long forgotten in the marching progression of history.
He'd had a name once. Sometimes, when he wished to go out amongst the lesser beings of this world, he would even use it as a means of identification. Derek Verona, they had called him once upon a time. Back when he, himself, had been human. Before he had gained his Ascendancy. Verona had been called by another name, as well. One that now seemed far more appropriate than the one his parents had given him all those years ago. He had been called “The Lone Wolf”.
And how appropriate a name for a man who spent much of his time wandering the world in the form of a blue wolf.
At this moment, however, Verona had not yet metamorphosed into the lupine enigma. He stood, standing upon the edge of a great precipice, looking out over the valley far below the sheer cliff. The frenzied wind whipped his hair, and his long, black coat, but Verona stood there, stoically ignoring Gaea's breath, lost in thought.
Strapped to Verona's back was a mighty hammer, a sledge twice the length in handle and four times in head of any normal sledgehammer. It had once been the weapon of an enemy long since vanquished, a savage brute known as “The Wild Man”. In honor of his fallen foe, he had named the mighty hammer “Wild Card”. And he carried it with him wherever he went. So, too, the Wild Card was with him this night, as he stood here upon the edge of the canyon, contemplating the loss of the only woman he had ever truly loved...
“Thou art weak.” he murmured softly, his lip twisted up in a sneer. “The Nine Hells could not stand against thee, yet thine steely resolve crumbles at the sight of a mere mortal woman.”
Teresa Kobayashi, the One. She had haunted him during those dark days of “The Dream”. All the regrets, all the miserable regrets he felt were the result of the words he had always wanted to say. But never did. Until it was too late. Not even Shand himself had ever been able to leave such a deep, bloody scar on his soul like Teresa had. No matter how far he had Ascended, always there would remain one small part of his consciousness that clung to those days of humanity, when he had loved, and he had lost, the most precious thing he had ever known.
With a motion so quick that his arms seemed to blur, he reached over his shoulder, and pulled loose the great hammer from its sling, raising it high into the air with a tortured scream of anguish that resounded off the hillsides and peaks all around him. He called down the thunder, stood firm as a massive bolt of lightning struck the head of the Wild Card. He raised his arms with a bellow, and the forest took to flame, erupting into an inferno all around him. His eyes burned brighter than ever now, and his countenance was now superimposed with the visage of a great blue wolf, howling with eternal loss.
The wolf within still howling, Verona leaped high into the air, more than five hundred feet, and plummeted down into the canyon, his hammer in his hand, and his eyes, his inhuman, fiery green eyes, burning balefully against the night sky.
Hello, there. My name is Derek. In the podcasting world, I'm known as “DJ Raspy”. But that certainly is not my only alter-ego. Oh, no. Not by any stretch of the imagination. You've just met one of my primary alter-egos. Derek Verona, scion of the ancient Verona family. One time professional fighter-turned Ascendant. What's an Ascendant? That question will be answered in a future post on this blog. As for the whole story between Derek Verona and Teresa Kobayashi...well, I wrote about that because it kinda mirrors a rather tragic situation that happened in my life recently. Life imitates art, sometimes. But that's pretty much all I'm going to say about that. Because the ensuing depression that I've been feeling lately has just about driven me to the brink of insanity.
Anyways, I had a blog over at livejournal for a couple years. But I didn't really update it all that much. Which is fine. I tend to say something only when I have something to say. I came here to blogspot basically because everyone else involved with the Creepy Sleepy Show podcast seems to be blogging here. And I guess it's more or less expected of me to go with the flow. That, by the way, is something I usually avoid like the plague. But this time, I thought “Why not?”. So here I am. Writing a blog that was named after a death metal band. A podsafe death metal band, if you can believe it.
Here's a little bit of introduction for you. I'm a writer, first and foremost. I'm working on a trilogy right now that has a decent shot at being published. I hope. I certainly must like it. Since I've been writing it and rewriting it over and over and over again for about ten years. I have a job that I hate. And a boss that I hate. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I'm also a podcast pioneer. That's right. Though I have to say that the DHP, creator of the legendary and award-winning Creepy Sleepy Show (which I have the somewhat dubious honor of co-hosting) is more of a pioneer in podcasting than I am. But I like to talk shit once in a while to make myself sound important.
So now that I've moved to blogspot, what is my blog going to be about? Good question. Well, I can tell you that it probably won't be about death metal. Or about confirming kills or anything. Actually, what I thought I'd do is just basically write about whatever comes to mind at the time. And then sprinkle said thoughts with a liberal dollop of actual writing. Such as you see above. You know, the ongoing adventures of the Lone Wolf and such. Or, hell, if I don't get a book deal, maybe I'll just publish my novels here on my blog. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, beeyatch!
Anyways, I think this post is just about done. Time to listen to some tunes, and catch some zzzz's before work. Sorry there's no hypertext links or anything here linking to Dan's blog, or any of the other Creepy Sleepy Crew. I'm feeling lazy today, and it is only my first post. I'll get those up later. Anyways, farewell. Until I post again.
