Vigor's Call to Action
A cryptic invite to support the Killjoy Misfortune Party
The below contains spoilers for the plot of The Tale of The Killjoy Misfortune Party.
ContextThe following broadcast was sent to Voda-Shaddai, a Hedon occupied luxury world and birthplace of Vigor Mortis, the leader of the Killjoy Misfortune Party. The broadcast aired on most devices which could receive the signals—Comms, public broadcasts, telepresence ports, etc, and was followed by a date stamp dated three days after the date of the broadcast.
I'm Vigor Mortis, a speedballing undead positively wrecked in the head, enamored with alliteration, clamoring for vindication, validation, veneration. My trusty weapon is a mace... a sword... a whip... a gun, everything fun at once, at whim. At run lash them close to stab, bash them far—collab faster and harder than ever before, work wit with words only the mad would ignore and which ig-ignoration of itself harks that stark madness we deplore. Alas, sense made isn't cents made, making this man with a plan a landless sap with crap to his name save the names he's saved in the name of good game, for he considers it lame, a shame, that others dodge blame for bodging the games (existences) of those not (but thought to be) in other's resistances oppositioning their persistences, at least not in instances that should concern the existences of the now-consterned and the survivors who've yearned for those lost who learned and paid the cost (being spurned, delayed from playing again) for something said, misheard—ended at word of that Lady up high with her eyes and her sighs trained on lies' lies (lies not mouth made, but instead bade by, made by a mind made mad by all that it has came by). So I'll destroy with ardor her Order of Disorder for disordering that order of honor and trust, madness and lust, and, in the sadness and dust which remains of that Order, order an order of that Order's remains, itself entertained with oughting what not and not-ing what ought so long as chaos itself is constrained, restrained from being portrayed as right in this wrong world where we've all been betrayed, told we were made, yet oft awfully slain to avoid the disdains of planes and gods that, to their gain, our bane, have been made vain by driving us insane. Consider this, you can't get rid of this recidivist impulse, this bitterness inside of us. I thus offer this incentive, yes, intention laid bare so hear: there's words about, amuck, mucked up, twisted, tried and broken again. Spoken tokens that cultures create, taken... broken by those who come late, errs made, kept in, spoken again. That's their fate. Disregard them, open your eyes, and see the truth. We kill their joy. They miss their fortune. We party. Now start, and fight with me.
TranslationDespite his best efforts to be understood, Vigor Mortis' speech was inhibited by his the madness he possesses, a madness which prevents him from speaking normally and instead forces him to speak in the strange sort of arrhythmic internal rhyme you see/hear to the left. After his broadcast, flash communities of rebels, poets, linguists, and slanguage enthusiasts formed together to unpack and translate what Vigor was saying. Boards went up overnight to pick it apart, and the speech ended up with tomes of annotations debating over the meanings of each line. Here's what they came up with:
I am Vigor Mortis, a drug-addicted Kyzanist tainted by insanity to rhyme. I come to you needing attention on a matter of vengeance and importance. I am armed, a fighter. I have experience at my back and trials at my fore. I am willing to fight them for as long as I need but please, heed my words and know they come from truth, from danger. If you loathe ignorance then do not ignore my words. I have passion but not resources. I've fought against Hedon with nothing but my wits and weapons, for I loathe that Hedon kills those it assumes are against it rather than seeking proof. These murders have left behind broken friends and families, all because someone misunderstood something about them. The blame for all of this falls upon the Lady Desire, who in her paranoia is willing to cut down anyone. She has been driven insane by the eras and by her experiences, and that makes her dangerous. I will keep to this quest until I die. I cannot quell these feelings, nor do I want to. I implore you, words can and are twisted often, especially by Her. Ignore what she says and pay attention to what she does, and understand that she is cruel and wicked. She must be stopped. We stop them short, we cut their resources out from under them, and then we can at last return to how Hedon was supposed to be. Please, stand with me.
InterpretationThe fact that it didn't tell anyone what to do, only gave a date, suggested to those who cared that they already possessed all they needed to act in Vigor's favor. Those who were tired of the Hedon regime on their world rioted, causing mass mayhem, and in the morning after the dust settled they found the highest Hedon members of their city assassinated. Their world was free, theirs to govern once more. Something had started that night, something that wouldn't soon be quelled.
Vigor wanted noise. We brought noise.
Continuing the Legend
The Killjoys are out there, fighting the good fight. They're gonna make the party good again, at any cost. I want that... you'd be crazy to not. I think we all want that in the end, even if we don't all admit it because Desire is a bit frightening. We wait, and we listen, and when we hear Vigor's words we rise and fight, we riot to show our support for the Killjoy Misfortune Party!
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