Our apocalyptic names … fucking crazy.
We use them, don’t we?
The whole thing was Cicero’s idea of taking the piss.
Who was Shiva, anyway?
A Hindu god of destruction. Pretty cool.
Who was Barbarossa?
Google it.
Some … battle? What the fuck?
Who’s Driss, anyway?
That was always mysterious.
It’s like being part of a cult.
Kitten refused her name. She preferred Kitten.
Sensible woman.
What did Cicero want to call her?
Jean Grey. From the X-Men. Or Jesus.
Jesus!?
A female Jesus.
Cicero was a real fucking mystery.
Cicero was as mad as Colonel Kurtz. Lost up the river. In the heart of fucking darkness. She was just like Marlon Brando, mumbling into the darkness.
Except she was constantly taking the piss.
There was that.
So was she taking the piss out of us or not?
It’s complex. There are layers of layers of meaning to everything Cicero did.
She would have hated this. The whole campus
Sure.
She would have hated us being here.
Maybe. See, she might have wanted us here. Her agents. Behind enemy lines. Doing her bidding.
But what would be her bidding?
What would Cicero do?: ask yourself that.
Work in Progress 