Who am I?
I think humans call that a good question. Because it's difficult to answer, right? Humans call me John Doe, because that's a human name. A man-human too, or-... Male. I am a parasite, which means something that lives off of something else. Like how you are a parasite to bananas, because you require them to live. I am currently attached to the brain of a male human with short brown hair, and blue eyes, and-... Actually, I don't think this bit is relevant.
This one died because of a small, circular hole in his chest. I was told it was one of those bullets, and it hit an organ. I swapped to this body because my previous one was beginning to decay.
Have I Ever Sacrificed Anything?
Every day is a sacrifice. I sacrifice body parts. I sacrifice bodies. I see a corpse, and my first instinct is to determine whether it would be better to sacrifice it for my current host. I sacrificed an arm fighting a murdered-er. I sacrificed my skin fighting a big-car driver, because the car became fire when it stopped. I sacrificed my heart to prove that I was not human, when I first met these peoples.
But none of my sacrifices compare to those that have sacrificed their lives for their ideals.
I want ideals, one day.
What Do I Bring to the Table?
I hear you are supposed to bring chairs to a table, so that you can sit at it.
