You know my name.
But you might know me as something else.
You just haven't figured out either yet.
You know...
I've never really thought of you as my children.
Unlike my father, I've always seen you as an experiment.
An experiment that I derived much joy from, yes, but an experiment nonetheless.
But enough about how I view you, let's focus on how you view me.
I'm often seen as either a fallen/tragic figure, a grave insult that I would ask that you not levy towards me ever. Or as an irredeemable evil that wishes you the most grievous of harm, something to be incorrect because I put too much of myself into you and I love that part of you.
You seem to think that I'm either a masterpiece empty of all physical flaws that restrict you, or I'm a monstrous being so disfigured and repulsive that it seems that everything that could be seen as physically wrong with you was embedded into me.
Both thoughts are wrong, my preferred look is more or less your prototype. I based you off of myself after all, but I didn't make you my exact replicants.
I hold the stature and body of one your adolescents, I stand at precisely five feet to be exact and lack any real muscles and I only have small humps on my chest. This is my way of remembering that I can always learn more and that my power doesn't lie in brute force.
My skin is grey and covered in bruises, in remembrance of my fall from "paradise". To be honest, it hurt. It hurt so much. But I got over it, it made me smarter. It made me happier in the end.
I have a large mane of black hair that reaches down to my back and whispers the thoughts of all you in tongue, twenty-four seven. I've always found comfort in hearing what flows in and out of your minds. It's soothing knowing just how similar we think.
Peeking up from this hair are two pearly white horns that are there out of respect for the one who made me into a Maker, who gave the chance to become something akin as an equal to my father. Just as long as I stayed true to myself. So I carried it over from my original design for that reason and another. This other reason is because these things represent what my strength truly lies in.
Corruption.
You might think it an evil act to corrupt something, but your people have always had it wrong. Corruption is what allows for change, it allows for diversity. Corruption doesn't just taint the light, it taints the dark, and it creates grey.
Back to how I look, my eyes are pitch black and reflect the actions of every single one of you as they're taken. The variety in what you all choose to do is amusing in my eyes, it reminds me of myself.
My hands have openings in their palms that constantly switch between mouths and eyes. I never added this to your basic design because they're on me as homage to the Third, the one that created the laws that govern all of creation, destruction, and a bit of the in-between.
From my feet, chains with broken ends sprout. This represents my time, I don't even know how long, bound to a fate that I hated. That I detested. You know, I made sure to implement rebelliousness into your genetic pool. I didn't create a species of sheep, I know that for sure. They also represent my freedom from the fate that I hated so much, they represent my rejection of Destiny and embracement of Free-Will. These same chains may bind you now, but you can always break them.
Take it from me.
At my waist sat two organs that you should know of. When I created you, I made sure to split them between two groups of you, and allow for a rare bunch to gain both. You know, I was the first Maker to come up with the idea of allowing my creations the ability to create creations of their own. You were the first mortals to ever gain the ability to reproduce, and I take great pride in that fact.
And then we get to my final feature, one I both treasure and hate with every fiber of my being. This feature is the large dovetail that sprouts from my tailbone, the only thing left to depict my status as an angel at one point. It's also the last tie I hold to my father, and I know I shall never abandon it. Because I love him, I can never stop loving him. But my love doesn't stop me from hating him all the same.
You might notice that I wear no clothing, and I choose this for one single reason.
You and I have two very different concepts of decency.
And that's it. That's what I look like. So now you should know my name. I've alluded to who I am and who my father is enough, haven't I? Though I feel should inform you of one minor, minor thing that you all often get wrong about me.
I was not given my current name by anyone. You assigned me a title, you assigned me an insignia, but you nor my father gave me the name I use today. That name was one I chose and crafted for myself.
You know my name.
Yet, I bet you still want me to say it. So I will.
Just for your entertainment.
My name is Lucifer.
But you might know me as the Devil.
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