This is the tough part, it’s like the first day at a twelve step meeting where you have to stand up and say “Hi, my name is Mac and I’m a slime mold.” only to be greeted by the gurgling of all the other slime molds sitting in folding chairs waiting their turn. I mean if it wasn’t for the oatmeal cookies and free coffee would anyone else be there? And nothing is as lame as listening to someone try to turn a negative into a positive with that strained, and in my opinion fake, cheerful attitude! Actually I would go… if there was one… but there isn’t because aside from myself I have never encountered anyone such as myself. Oh ! Wait! there was that time after the Horde invasion of Rome when I was accidentally split into two and found two hosts and then bumped into myself during the Spring festival near Cambridge. That was a bit awkward, I would assume it would be like finding out that you had accidentally been making out with a cousin. Or a second cousin… maybe not. My point is that once we re-connected and then jointly infested another host we were one again and aside from periodically screwing up pronouns and having two sets of memories for the same thousand or so years not a bad thing to say about it.
As far as I can tell I have been around since the primordial ooze oozed from where ever ooze oozes from. I may be the base building block of all humanity. Wouldn’t that be the thing. Imagine the tower of gifts I would get at Christmas! But the thank you cards would be tedious, and in any case I doubt that is the case. Hmmm I could use a case to keep all these notes in .
So my earliest memories, just fragments of moments, are of Mesopotamia. It’s hard to describe how my memory works. I mean every forty or fifty years I need to find a new host and infest it. Some memories come along on a cellular level . But even then they need space to stretch out so for the first few years until I have grown on my host I only have the basic memories that are important to my survival; like oatmeal is good, stay away from any automat that has more grease on the window than a city truck, and never ever insult a nine fingered pianist with a straight razor in his shirt sleeve. But after a while my memories come back and by the time I have to infest a new host I can tell you the color of the toga that Jules wore the day he married Cifany. ( no! neither of them are important in the history of the world but they had a really nice wine at the ceremony and the orgy afterwards was unforgettable.)
Oh yes, my hosts. For the most part they have been human , but there is a stretch of time where I remember doing nothing but eating , sleeping, and scratching hands that fed me .. So maybe I infested a cat out of necessity. So…. mostly Human, and recently they have been mostly voluntary. But voluntary or not for the Macedonian to survive I need hosts to carry me about , do my bidding, and generally keep me active or I get bored and dormant. Sadly though something about my infestation makes for a slightly shortened host-life. Well maybe they are alive after but it’s hard to tell. A side effect of being worn by me is calcification of their organic components. It’s actually quite pretty. And I try my best to put them in interesting positions before I leave them completely. Go to a museum and look at some of the best marble statues. That’s my work that is! Of course in the event of untimely death I need to leapfrog onto whatever is warm-blooded and close at hand. Let me tell you that a running speed of 5 cm an hour is not optimal for stalking anything other than a sloth or a slug or a snail. But I have managed to survive for eons so there you go . The calcification process often allows for my hosts to perform just as the Enhanced. And some of the Great Heroes of the past ( all of who died young ) are actually my work also. So , You are welcome civilisation.
But yes, we are slime mold, I mean, I am slime mold . I like dark cool places, I avoid sunlight, and I love oatmeal. Please do not confuse me for a Vampire who shares some of my traits. Not that you would; I rarely wear dark velvet , I have a sense of humour, I do not pretend to be tragic, I have never written bad poetry, and most importantly I would never hit on underage girls in coffee houses just to get a quick bite in before tea. Don’t get me wrong I have had friends in the past who had to suck blood, and if my memory is not playing tricks I took one as a host for a while … about 150 years… but then I got confused and tried to drain a bag of “Granny McGullies” raisin and walnut cookies and we parted ways. Its just they tend to be a bit elitist and touchy.
