Home sweet home.
I still haven't introduced myself properly. And if you excuse my manners, I don't plan on doing so. I don't believe in personalities, I understand that beings are in constant change and metamorphosis, just like tiny caterpillars that turn into beautiful butterflies or scary moths, so I don't obsess over getting to know someone. Just by bonding for some time with them, by breaking into their dreams, problems and fears you can get an idea of what your candidate will tend to act like regarding the outside world. I do this only to my own advantage. I'm sure that others would call me an egoist. Well, yes, right now I'm a big egoist, and will probably keep being that way for a long time. It's what better works for me!
If you need to know something though, is your's truly's name. I'm Mephistophiel, just call me Mephisto for short, or Mephi/Meph if you think I'm very dear to you. I'm just some poor devil working in Hell. I still have the title of Duke, for fucks sake, but I still feel so miserable here. In our place we are seven dukes altogether, and we are a nice team, I guess. We've known each other for a long time, we come from another place where conditions are so much better, a place so beautiful, warm and dreamy, full of love and kindness... and we were big offenders there, our mere existence was a big blasphermy to their system. What our Lord first did was lock us in a prison, then when he saw that we actually could still do awful things in the prison's hallway, our lovely Lord traslated us to this place where we are right now, what we call Hell. First it was nice to be far away from home, but we still have to work for him. It was the same with my six pals, they were filled with enthusiasm but eventually it all faded up.
Talking about home, I feel the need to adress something that icks me a little bit. I've noticed that humans often think of hell as a place that drowns you in fire. Now, searching around the world wide web I keep finding the same conception of my home. No, why? It's the total opposite. Hell is full of bitterness, hate, dread, despair, it's the very definition of COLD. If you only knew how comfortable is for me going up to earth and feeling the warmness of spring, it sometimes makes me burst on tears.
Home sweet home.
I also should talk about this blog's name. It's called p3trich0r, coming from the word ''petrichor'', honestly I picked it because I like how it sounds: /ˈpɛtrɪkɔːr/ the word refers to the scent of the wet soil and concrete.