To properly bend one to your will, you must first break their spirit.
Those with thoughts and motives of their own are horrible slaves; their
uses are few. So, go right ahead, break them, bend them and stretch and
obfuscate the true identity of this creature to your own intentions.
Cloud their mind with your pestilence, take away their natural freedom,
for when you own the mind, the body willessly follows. See them, eyes
glazed, cotton filling their metaphorical mind, their dreams
insignificant, their responses monotonous, their every action only loyal
to your instructive lips. Banish away the individuality, make them feel
cowed and pitiful. Tease and mock them, pull upon their strings and
emotions, leech away their minute droplets of self-esteem to feed your
pool; your lakeful. And go the fuck to hell, tortuous, vile, repulsive
waste of flesh. I'd spit in your face, but I'd have to give you the
priveledge of looking you in the eyes like you were human, you rotten,
festering fuckhole.



-High Prince of Ulangi, Lord Nightshadow Thalion

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Midsummer, in the year 126 MA.