DEFECTIVE

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They were a nomad, a wanderer, with no past and no future. Their head was constantly filled with a constant buzzing static that drove them wild, attempting more and more outrageous things in the hopes of driving it away. Only three things ever successfully worked: getting a rush of adrenaline, dancing, and taking over another's mind. None worked for long, however. The adrenaline wore off. They grew too tired to keep on dancing.
The dragons they assimilated died, over and over again, because while they could control the new drone's mind, they were neither practiced nor skilled at it, and often it was like the drone couldn't even hear them at all. They often went hungry and thirsty themselves--they forgot about taking care of the needs of their drones as well. Oh, they tried, of course, and once in a while the drone lasted a good long while. Those were the good times, when the static nearly disappeared altogether, and they could think clearly.
Eventually they realized the best way to acquire new dragons to assimilate was through dancing. They would offer to put on a show for some circus or tavern--or whatever, they never cared--in exchange for food and a decent place to sleep. At some point they became... not famous, but well-known, and there was always a few who would talk to them after a performance. It was easy enough to lure one of them down some dark alley, away from the others, and assimilate them. This way they could remain relatively sane for at least a few weeks.
One night, however, the one they lured turned out to be a drone already, a Pearlcatcher. They'd looked for a long moment into the DEFECTIVE's eyes, one hand gripping their chin tightly while they trembled, wondering if this was to be their death. But no. The Pearlcatcher had released their hold, and spoke gently. "You have suffered."
"Yes."
"Come with me. It is not your fault that you have suffered so. Who assimilated you? Or were you born like this?"
"I...." The DEFECTIVE trailed to a stop, unsure how to respond. They knew little of how to react to social cues, either drone or dragon, and had learned just enough for basic communication. Just enough to offer up their services as a dancer and performer, to lure their prey. "I am not sure. I... cannot remember."
"No matter, then. If you've been assimilated, it may be tucked into your memory, hidden away. Many like to leave signatures. And if we can find this out, I promise, we'll make them pay for improperly carrying out the assimilation and leaving you to suffer."
The DEFECTIVE did not know what to make of this, but the Pearlcatcher seemed to be gentle and kind. Not at all like the rare few drones they'd encountered, that had chased them away or tried to kill them. They were promising things that the DEFECTIVE thought they might want. "Okay."
"I will call you DEFECTIVE as well, I think, for that is what you are. I am OUTCAST, my Consciousness is FAILURE. So you will be DEFECTIVE. We will be known by our flaws, what they have done wrong to us."
"Okay."

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