Update: Fallen Crest

Sorry about the double post. I uh... hmm... I don't know that I should be apologizing. It just feels wrong... maybe that's me.

So... we held out maybe another three hours before everyone started to lose their shit?

We've been bunkered down in a rather small room. Which has been fine in the past but the situation was so tense. Normally Nat and Navi might spar or otherwise beat the shit out of each other to kill time but we were pretty nervous of whether or not this shit was legit or not.

Devil brought us some food but... I was the only one who ate. It got really bad. The girls were both getting really fucking fidgety and impatient. I was a little scared they might rip their own hair out at the rate we were going.

I decided it couldn't wait any longer when Nat started stomping around the room complaining about how much bullshit this was. So I decided to try calling Fracture.

I got out my phone and let everyone else know what I was doing. They clamored around me... and we all awkwardly held hands... for luck or something. Maybe to just share the burden of the tension. I remember someone telling me that touch is a comforting sensation but I'm pretty sure that's wrong. That kind of thinking really opens you up for a surprise assault.

So I called Fracture. It rang for what felt like forever.

To my surprise he actually answered. I was honestly just trying to call to give everyone something to distract themselves with, but here Fracture was answering his phone.

I cranked my phone up and held it a way from my ear a little so everyone could hear. I was met with my usual greeting. The same greeting Devil and Fire gave me when I arrived.

"Sup Asshat."

I was surprised to find how incredibly casual his tone was. Like nothing had fucking happened. It was awkward as fuck. I took a deep breath. Thought a moment to remember how our calls used to go. It had been a few months.

"Not much... Fuckface."

Nailed it. I waited for a follow up... but there was nothing. Just a good long moment of silence.

"... Just gonna sit there with a phone to your ear for fun? You called me. What the fuck do you want?"

Oh fuck, right.

"Oh right," I said looking at Navi and Nat a moment to reaffirm why I made this call. I couldn't tell if I was supposed to still be acting casual and shit. So I went with:
"I've been hearing stories."

"Yeah? Anything good?"

Nailed it. I'm so good at phones.

"Oh you know. The usual. Rambling, crazy, and seemingly impossible shit."

Set the line...

"Oh you don't say. Do tell."

And hooked. Nailed it.

"I hear you traded Duckie for Picasso and Moth."

My voice waved a bit when I said traded... I meant to say killed but... Well Fracture doesn't, or didn't, do that. It was a whole thing. He was rather proud of it... I should practice saying he killed Duckie later. Get use to that thought.

"Uh yep."

Informative.

"... Were just gonna do that all along were you?"

I was curious to know if this was always the plan. Like, that wouldn't make any sense right? This started when Fracture told Moth to kill Picasso because she was being insubordinate. I mean, she was in a loop but there was totally a whole tiff there. If he was just gonna do that the whole time he should have just done it then I would think.

"As soon as I found out Father was involved, yes."

Which was about what I figured. He found out about Father's role in all this puppeting Picasso and giving orders behind his back like... last Month maybe?

"So what was with all the theatrics?"

But there was still no reason he couldn't have just did this the minute he found out Father was involved. There was absolutely no need to wake up Duckie and issue a fresh set of death threats if he was just gonna give us what we wanted.

"I wanted to go out with a bang."

... Typical.

Our casual back and forth proved to be too slow for Nat. 

"Ask about the promotion thing," she impatiently urged me.

Fracture couldn't help himself when he heard her over the phone.

"Hello bitch."

So much... class. So very classy.

"Fuck you. Answer the damn question."

Both of them were....

Why am I writing... like little notes after each thing someone says? ... Huh.

Rereading this, they feel redundant. Like... who is that for?  Is that just like... narcissism? Is it for me from me?

"Be nice Fuckface."

Classy party, baby. It was a classy party. Cool classy party... la la la la.

"Eat a dick Asshat."

Aaaaannnndddd it stopped being fun. So I refocused the conversation.

"The promotion. I'm told I've been promoted."

Nailed it.

"Yes, yes you have."

.... Fuck. Burnt my nailed it on the last note.

"... Why?"

And this, was a great question. I don't know if this reads though or not but me and Fracture don't really get along very well. Hes a fuck face... I'm a bit of an ass hat... but even if we did get along I don't exactly have a reputation for being trustworthy or reliable... hardly the face you want at the head of an organization.

 "In honor of your years of loyalty to both to me and more importantly Father and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You're old as fuck. You're the oldest fucking proxy I know. Enjoy it. God knows you've earned it."

... I am rather old in proxy years. Like, David's old but hes a late in life proxy.......

"So he gets your job?"

 I mean, I'm certainly not the only proxy I know that started their gig at 8... but I'm the only one I know that's still alive...

"More or less."

Not that that's actually impressive or something...

"What are we sharing it?"

I mean I can't fight. Never learned how. I've killed some people but thats just because I can aim a gun... assuming they aren't like... moving or something.

"Dear god no. I'm still like, in charge or something. Just, you know, gonna do the proper head CEO thing and not spend any time working. You'll have free reign and Devil and Fire and the cults at your finger tips. I'll look over my little pet projects... get involved as needed."

I've taken some people down with a fire extinguisher but I usually have a team of four other assholes keeping them busy... never expect the guy with the fire extinguisher to know how to swing with it...

"... Why. I don't understand. You hate me... its like a thing. You even went so far as to fucking shoot me as a means to lure us here."

And its not like I ever developed any sort of... powers or some shit in all this time. I mean... I can path... I don't like to though... denizens are scary shit.... once saw one rip a man in two.

[We heard Fracture laugh over the phone for a moment before he appeared beside me. It scared the shit out of Nat and Navi who both rose up in arms. I was kind of use to that kind of thing though. He likes to pop in during phone calls. It loses its novelty. Before they could do anything he was gone again. Nat took the opportunity to give the wall he was standing in front of the finger.]

So in all this time... I never developed any skills... of like any kind.... or abilities... or anything...

"You shoot him again, I will shoot you!"

Really sad when you think about it...

"Oh don't be such a whiny bitch. He looks fine. It'll heal."

... or maybe just pathetic...

"I'm serious. I'll chop Banks' hand off to keep you in one place long enough to do it."

But I guess if nothing else... on some level... it does mean something that I'm still here... impressive in its own right... I dare say I've...

"Nat, Please."

Nailed it. Haha. Long con. I like those.

I offered Nat a hand. I needed to get the conversation back on track. She gave my hand a squeeze. She understood and went quiet again.... or went grumbly again... quiet sounded cooler.

"Fracture, quit changing the subject."

I insisted at him. I knew him... he was using Nat to stall and distract from the question. Stripped away from someone to bounce off of to serve as his distraction... he went quiet... he stayed quiet for like a good five minutes.

"Fracture?"

I bet these little notes are making this whole things a bitch to read... I feel committed to this now... so I won't be stopping.

"I'm just not feeling it anymore... I founded this... thing... because of the horrible horse shit they put Duckie and others through... And I just shot him in the back of the head as part of trade... as a bargaining chip in a deal like he was a fucking commodity. ... It just feels like its time to do something else."

I knew better. I don't know that Duckie's death really meant that much to him. I mean... he was going to sacrifice Duckie to the Fire anyways... it was coming one way or another... something he had done to many before Duckie and something he would have done to many after Duckie...

Deep down... I think it was the fact that he had killed Duckie himself. Broke his own golden little rule.

"Why not Fire or Devil? Someone competent."

The Fire has been running a successful thriving hunter killer cult for a long time. She's an experienced leader at this point... and Devil was a fucking drug lord before she joined us. She has a strong business sense and has similarly known years of leadership experience...

"Because they would change everything. What the Free Market needs is you. You really believe in what we built. So for better or worse its your problem now. And I figure if you ever hit any snags, you can always throw your Mexican thunder cunt at the problem. You'll be fine."

But Fire is a cold heartless bitch... she would try to make the whole organization more like the Fire cult. All hunting and killing... no protecting or supplying.

And Devil. She would run this place like an actual business... despite the organization's name, the Free Market is a charity. We pour our profits back into anti-cult, pro-proxy, and as of late pro-runner initiatives. She would likely put a stop to all that.

"I'm not /his/."

Growled Nat. She... I had to try to phrase this in a way she'd accept.

"You are my friend right?"

Nailed it.

"Sure. But it's not like you fucking own me or anything."

Fuck.

"I know but its like if I was to say my Goddess. I'm not claiming to own that god. I am just referring to the one I associate myself with."

Your and my are like... possessive terms... but that doesn't have to imply ownership... like... it can be... just a matter of identifying your own self imposed association with a free entity.

"...Fine. I can accept that."

Besides, I think she likes being compared to a Goddess.

"Glad we figured that out. Now fuck off. Let me enjoy my... retirement I guess... Later bitch, whiny bitch, and... was it Navi? Say hi to your brother for me." 

And with that he hung up.

There was a moment of pause. And then a moment of celebration. It was over and we apparently came out insanely ahead.

Navi fucking tackled us. Started shaking us back and forth yelling, "You did it, promotion, you did it, promotion!"

Nat had to shove her off of us. It was all just so... baffling.

It was one thing when Devil and Fire told us before that that's what had happened but it was another thing entirely to know for sure....

And apparently its true. I'm going to be in charge of the Free Market... The Free Market is so fucked.

Seeing as my old job has a position was open... the first thing I did as hire Nat to fill the role. She shares a rank with Devil and Fire now as my second in commands. I've stripped her of her old code name Mantis... her new code name is Goddess. But so help you god if you call her that. She really hates code names. You should probably just call he Nat. In fact, I'm gonna strike that through just to be safe... she might stab me when she reads this...

Sloth out.

Fucking Confusing Bullshit

So, the showdown was last night. We spent the day preparing. Earplugs to keep Whisper from scrambling our brains, spotlights to blind Fracture's pet sniper, a good meal. The odds were pretty good that even though we were going to win, some of us might die. We all knew it and considered it an acceptable risk. I know I mentioned a couple posts ago that I don't want to die, but some things are worth putting your ass on the line for. We all felt it and none of us were particularly bothered by the prospect.

The biggest bit of tension was running into fuck face while we were shopping-which was every bit as awkward as you might think. The fucker was wandering around eating a fucking hot dog. At the time, we thought we were just lucky he hadn't seen what we were there buying. In retrospect, it really didn't matter. None of our preparations made a damn bit of difference.

When we reached the building, we all put our earplugs in before getting out of the car, and that definitely caused some problems with what happened next. We let Picasso out of the trunk and raced to keep up with her as she rushed up the fire escape. The roof was lit with flood lights, which was exactly what we were hoping to avoid. Fracture and Duckie were standing there, everything seemed about what we were expecting.

What we weren't expecting was what Fracture did next. We couldn't hear what he said, but we could see what he did. He shot Duckie. Just like that. Right in front of all of us. Picasso freaked out, of course, and the tall fucker showed up to reign her in. It was briefly chaos, with lots of yelling and arguing (at some point Moth must have taken out his earplugs) I couldn't hear at all, until Fracture opened a Path portal and Moth grabbed Picasso (who was fucking torn up by that point) and went through it.

Fracture then wrote me a note. It said 'There's a hospital in there'. Which didn't make much sense until he pulled a gun and shot Sloth. Again. I couldn't tell how bad it was and at the moment all I could think was that he could die if I chose wrong. If there was a hospital, it was his best chance. So I grabbed Sloth and tore through the Path. I'd only ever been through a handful of times. I never learned to use it with Baker Squad, and it's usually so fucking dangerous I don't regret not being able to use it. But this time... it was quiet. Nothing was even chasing us, for once.

When I arrived, there was a crowd, including a bunch of people in doctor's coats. They were all just standing there, but it only took a moment for them to spring into action. Thankfully, they did what Fracture said they would, and fixed Sloth up. It didn't take long, and they only tried to get me to leave once before realizing what a bad idea that was. It was all very professional, though they didn't put Sloth under. His shouts attracted Navi, who'd followed us into the Path. She told us that Vallus was still there talking to Fracture as far as she knew, but otherwise didn't know anything more than we did.

She went to go look for Moth and Picasso, and two women came in shortly afterward. One of them was Devil, who'd helped get Picasso out. The other was a stone bitch who called herself Fire, which is the most obvious misnomer I've seen in a long time. The two of them said that Fracture issued the challenge to bring us in so that he could promote Sloth and have a handle on Picasso and Moth because he was trading Duckie for them. Not sure why Moth needed trading for, and they didn't really have a good answer as to why.

Now, Sloth's position was basically second in command. The only place he could be promoted to would be Fracture's job. None of this makes any sense, and of course Fracture isn't around to explain it. Devil said she'd get him, but that was almost a whole day ago and there's still no sign of him. So we're just kind of waiting around to figure out what the hell is going on.

Gonna Kill the Fuck Outta Fuck Face

If you saw this post, you know that fuck face called Picasso out. It should be no surprise to any of you, then, that we're on the move. Picasso's foaming at the mouth even more than usual and the rest of us are no less eager to see this finished

It's good this happened now, I think we were all getting a bit impatient. Picasso especially. And the last thing we wanted to have to deal with was that bitch going nuts again. Better she go off on Duckie than on us. I never liked that fuckhead anyway. He thought it was really fucking clever to call me 'gnat' or 'bug'. I killed him for it once before, but it was in a Loop and Ronan would've been pissed if I tried to finish it off for real just because of the name thing.

In any event, bring on your crazy bullshit, Fracture. Having one mind control guy to go up against us while you cower isn't enough and you know it. You also know no one else is stupid enough to help you. Honestly, I'm not sure why Whisper is helping you. If you read blogs, Whisper, perhaps you could tell me why the fuck you're siding against the monster you're supposed to be working for? It's the losing side, especially in this case, and everyone knows it.

See you soon, fuckers!

What the Fuck Just Happened

So, today was... fuck. I still don't really understand what happened. We were stuck in the car, we couldn't really hear or see all of what was going on. I'm not used to seeing these monsters yet, even though I've had a fair few sightings now. But this... this was a reminder of how intense these fuckers get when they think they're being fucked with.

Before Fuckface starts fucking crowing, we're all safe, and that is entirely thanks to Picasso, of all things. I certainly never thought she'd be saving my ass, but I'm pretty sure she just did, in a big way. Well... okay. He saved my ass through her. I think. That was not her normal voice, and I don't think she could do that shit.

I'm getting ahead of myself. It happened this afternoon, but I'm still all jumbled up. We were on the road moving to another town. It was Vallus' turn driving and I was in the front seat. Sloth was napping, the fucker, and Moth... well, presumably he was being an asshole,  as usual. It's hard to tell since he's so fucking quiet. In any event, everything seemed normal. But then the redheaded bastard showed up. I'm pretty sure he had flowers in the wheels because everything locked up and we skidded to a stop right in front of him.

It was going to be bad. He had the doors jammed and was rambling at us about not getting away and how he would have his fun. I honestly kind of thought I was about to die. Which, I thought I would be okay with, until I finally reached that certainty. But I'm not. I have friends for the first time since I was a little kid. I have shit to do, both to help them and to finish my own business. I still have to kill David Banks. I'm not ready to die yet.

Which is why it's very good that the next thing he did was circle around to the trunk to fuck with Picasso. I couldn't really see what was going on, but Moth was freaking out banging on the window and somehow she got out of the trunk... Next thing we can really see, she's got slender tentacles and has the ginger fucker impaled. She walked him to the treeline and a massive fucking tree grew out of nowhere and ripped him in half.

So, the good news is that we've got some time now. The bad news is that I can no longer keep deluding myself that this fucker is Writer. The guy is a monster. A Fear. I have two Fears fighting over me. Sounds like a twisted version of a shitty romcom. OH NO THESE TWO BOYS BOTH LIKE ME WHAT DO I DO? Except that instead of a happily ever after, I get murdered at the end. Sloth seems to think that if I keep serving the skinny fuck I'll be okay. Not sure I believe it, but it's the best shot I have.

Scary Fucking Bitch

Well, Helrick is dead.  We all saw it coming but we were all fucking hoping we were wrong. Everything seemed fine, for a definition of fine that involved Helrick making out with her constantly and generally acting like a little bitch with stockholm syndrome. I'm still not sure if he was humoring her or if he really was that fucking easy. I guess we'll never know now.

I'm not going to waste time on a sappy goodbye, I barely knew the fucker and honestly tearing my hair out every time someone I know dies gets really fucking old. I have work to do, I can't waste my time crying. Honestly I think the much more useful part of that post is Moth outing himself as a twisted, neurotic little fuckhead. The fucker's been trying to get in Vallus' pants the whole fucking time he's been with us and apparently what he really wants to do is attack her for breaking some bullshit vow? He's not holding to it either, I asked and Masks aren't supposed to blog or write notes, both of which he does all the time. And honestly, Vallus didn't do it out of devotion, she did it to impress fuckhead. I think that ought to negate the vows by itself! In any event, I have my eye on Moth and I don't think Vallus is going to be quite so cozy with him in the future.

If it were up to me, I'd ditch the bastard but with Helrick gone Moth's the one who gets her closest to calmed down anymore (which doesn't say promising things about his life expectancy). Plus, Sloth seems to like him. Which is ironic, considering all the crap Moth keeps spouting about how he's going to fuck us all over. I guess he's forgotten that I started travelling with Sloth while nursing him back to health after he nearly died trying to save Moth and Picasso. Some fucking people don't know the meaning of gratitude.

Otherwise, everything's pretty quiet because of the whole Helrick thing. I just thought I should say something to let people know we're all still here. Except for Helrick, I guess.

Never Not Navi

Hey. Navi here. I still don't have an official blog account but to be fair blogging is dumb. Also seems to be high maintenance. I'm sure I'll cave and make an account one of these days but shit's pretty crazy right now with the Smiling guy and the threat of... fuck face... such a vulgar nickname.

Fracture. That was it. Literally no one here calls him that. Kind of funny.

But like I was saying, Fracture or the smiling asshat could pop in at virtually anytime and just kill everyone. At least that's what it sounds like from everything I've read. You should honestly be thankful I'm even posting this. The only reason I am is because Sloth had another one of his dreams and it was either I did it or they were going to let him do it and that seemed even stupider than me posting so here I am.

I mean how inane can you get.

'I had a dream last night. I got lost in the rain. There was a clown there.'

Just truly a waste of everyones god damn time. Don't you think?

I don't know. Maybe I'm way off on this one. This just seemed like the more sensible alternative.

Vallus or Nat should really be posting but they were too exhausted. Really, I'm the only one who isn't psychologically wiped.

And that's a great segue into explaining what has apparently been going on.

I say apparently because I don't know for sure.

To me it just looks like everyone has been getting increasingly violent and unsettled since Helrick arrived. But apparently we got Picasso back when we got Helrick. I wouldn't know. I still can't see or hear Picasso.

Apparently, not even if she yells for over 24 hours straight. Which I'm told she had been ever since Nat ran out of tranquilizers to feed her.

I was also informed that she was alternating between kicking and screaming, and yelling love songs at Helrick.

Notice that I keep using the past tense here. She's stopped now. See, I had a brilliant idea. Based on what I had heard about the situation, and likely in no small part because I was the only one still thinking with their right mind at this point, I suggested that she might shut up if we just gave Helrick to her.

She did apparently keep singing out lovey dovey shit to him after all.

He was very against it. He was pretty sure if he got to close to her, that she'd kill him. But Nat managed to talk him into it.

"I /CAN'T/ take much more of this and I know /YOU/ can't either. We'll all be right behind you. We even took her knife and hatchets away. If anything goes wrong, we'll pull her off of you immediately," said Nat.

"... Fine," said Helrick.

Now keep in mind, the following was explained to me after the fact so I'm putting it in brackets.

[Well, sure enough when Helrick approached she pounced. But she didn't attack him. Just pinned his hands down and curled up next to him.

And most importantly, she stopped fucking screaming.]

Helrick was still nervous about the whole thing. Which I guess is understandable. He requested that someone be by him at all times to keep an eye on them just incase. Nat obliged and now Helrick has his own watch rotation.

Not something I can participate in. To me it looks like hes just awkwardly laying on the ground. If she did something to him, I'd never know or notice so I wouldn't be able to help. Which has put me on permanent night watch. They seem determined to make me pull my weight despite my fucked up sight.

Here's hoping that if anything comes at us I'll actually be able to fucking see it.

Navi out.

One Big Fucked Up Family

In case you hadn't heard, Helrick the... whatever the fuck he is has smuggled Picasso out. How, I'm not sure. Unlike my travelling companions, I've never even been to Fracture's compound, but their descriptions make me think that getting a screaming woman out undetected must have been nothing short of a miracle. Either that or fuckface is really just that bad at his job.

I knew he was pretty bad, because as he has now just found out, he's a proxy who's been stupidly working against the Slender Man for a long time.  How stupid do you have to be to have regular interaction with the thing and still manage to accidentally fucking do the exact opposite thing He wanted you to do? Wow. What a fucking moron. We all knew. All of us. I even tried to tell him. Several times, you can find it in comments if you really want, I've got better things to do than dig it all up. Suffice it to say, fuckface is a fucking moron and we're definitely laughing at him over here. Or at least I am.

We're also keeping busy meeting up with Helrick and Picasso. Which is... a bit of a nightmare. The poor fucker tried to tell me when I called him to try to set up a meeting place (though honestly why I was the one that called, I'm not entirely certain.). He sounded exhausted and miserable, and I could hear her in the background babbling on about eyebrows or some shit. But nothing could have prepared me for the situation. Picasso has gone even further off her rocker, which I didn't think was actually possible. She has no remaining grasp on reality at all. It also takes three times the normal dose of sedatives for a woman her size to knock her unconscious, at which point she starts flailing and screaming in her sleep, something I discovered when she started screaming and I knew I had to either knock her out or gag her and risk her getting out and taking revenge.

He had her locked in the back of his van for transit, and in retrospect I almost wish we'd left her there. Sure, the rocking might've raised some eyebrows, but it's better than everyone in the fucking motel hearing her scream. It's definitely better than getting attacked, which hasn't really happened yet, but could happen at any moment. We've all been taking turns watching Picasso so that we manage to stay more or less rested. Except for Navi, who apparently still can't see her. The rest of us, though, get to watch her and hope she doesn't destroy anything or attack anyone. She's crazy fucking strong.

Still, we're better off than fuckface the moron.

What the fuck is going on here?

Writer came back again. I still don't even know what the fuck he's trying to accomplish. He just shows up, fucks around, then either leaves or lets us go. No word on what he wants, he just flirts and teases and pops around the room like a hyperactive toddler.

Whatever it is that he's after, he seemed very fucking interested in the fact that Moth and Navi are travelling with us now. When he showed up, he insisted that they were the reason for the visit. He wanted to 'get a look at them'. It was almost friendly, except for the fact that he showed up unannounced at 4 am in the middle of our motel room.

He was much less friendly when we started attacking. Bastard blocked us off from the door to keep us from using the Path to get away. Navi jumped through the window instead, having to leave her sword behind since it was stuck in Writer's chest. He didn't bother to take it out, preferring instead to leave it as a very macabre reminder of his invulnerability. Not that it stopped Mothi from continuing to try, right up until the point we were all gone and he followed Navi out the window.

Meanwhile, Writer started calling Vallus and I beautiful and loudly bemoaning the fact that we were fighting him. Instead of what, I'm not certain. At least on my end. Vallus he gave the option to kill me, but he's never even mentioned an offer like that for me. Maybe the fucker just wanted me to let him kill me. Of course, if that's what he wanted, I'm not sure why he didn't do that ages ago when I was alone and miserable.

Whatever the case may be, Vallus managed to get to the closet door, and Sloth distracted him until we were through, then quickly followed us into the Path. Before you get too excited Fuck Face, we're all reunited and Navi has her sword back thanks to Sloth's quick thinking.

I wish there was a way to crafterproof our motel rooms.

The Giggle at a Funeral

May Father always keep me and Darkness hide me.
May I have never have to look back, for he is surely behind me.

I pray Silence hear me and Obsession Guide me.

Compulsion consume me so they may never find me!
And thus we write.

Amen.

Howdy there. Its your girl Vallus here, giving that good ol' prayer.h


So, first off, here is a link to an incredibly relevant post to our current on-goings. Moth, the stubborn oaf that he is, insisted on posting an update for us on HIS blog instead of ours. So go check that out or something. Or not. I don't care.

Hes the one who decided to put it where people wouldn't look, so fuck him. Dumbass.

Apparently hes still just an asshole in general.

We had someone following us around. Nat noticed it and tried to sneak up on them but they drove off.

So when she confessed her concerns to me I had a brilliant idea. As soon as we landed at our next destination we sent Nat, and Moth because he insisted on going too because hes an incredibly nosy shit, to sneak out the back window of our motel and sneak up on the car that has been tailing us everywhere we go the long way. Like all the way around some buildings to get behind the car on approach so there would be no chance of detection.

This plan earned me much of Nat's love. All 0.35 of it.

While they were doing that, I sat down and got some popcorn and sat watching at the ready to rush out to the car if a fight broke out.

There was a fight. Nat wrestled with the tail a bit before she and Moth over powered the suspect.

They then brought the suspect in. Walked her in actually. She just sort of followed them in once Nat got off of her. Turns out it was Navi. Who funnily enough, had not been mentioned on Moth and Picasso's blog for a while.

Turns out she was still around. Never stopped being around. After they went silent, they just couldn't be bothered to mention her. And then she wasn't in the room at the time when Picasso got nabbed, apparently. And then, apparently, she was told by Moth to tail him while he went into hiding in hopes that she would catch Le Croix tailing him if she tailed him herself.

Apparently, Moth just couldn't be bothered to mention she was around when we met up with him. A fact shes very bitter about. Shes apparently been living in her car this whole time. How absolutely nasty and messed up her hair is checks out with this story.

Of course all of this is classified under 'apparently' because Moth refused to verify. I fact, since Navi turned up Moth has refused to write out a single message to any of us. Which is weird because I know he was writing messages to her before. Wonder watch changed since the post I linked to her.

Quite curious.

Atleast Navi is cool though. Shes kind of random. She talks with confidence but rambles nonsense. She showed me the thing she likes to do where she talks at Moth as if he was talking back.

"Hi. How are you? I'm doing kind of good myself. Yeah only kinda. Well apparently some asshole met up with other people and has been living it up in the luxary of motel rooms and the safety of copious numbers while I was out living in my car alone about 50 ft away and couldn't be bothered to invite me. I know right? Such an asshole." And then she shoved Moth over. "Fuck you!"

It was kind of fun to watch. Shes like a one woman show. Never met someone who dipped pickles in peanut butter before they ate them. Fascinating.

She also has this kick ass sword. A katanna. I watched her cut a chair in half with a swift fucking movement. It was amazing. She keeps it in a modified guitar case she keeps on her. It was modified to keep the sword in place so it wouldn't cut through the case when she runs with it and shit. Handy.

She's kind of almost blind though. She can walk around the room and stuff but like she couldn't see me until someone pointed me out which is real weird. Not sure how that works.

Apparently it comes from her super power. She can see emotions and shit. Apparently people turn colors when they feel things. Which makes it extra confusing that she couldn't see me before I was pointed out. You think the colors would have highlighted where I was.

According to her, yellow is attention grabbing, orange is nervous, red is mad, grey is exhausted, blue is passive, dark blue is sad, pink is love and such. Nothing surprising.

She says me and Moth are the only people shes ever met that idle at red. Apparently most people idle at blue or grey. Must be a Mask thing maybe? We were both masks. Somehow that makes us angry all the time or something?

Oh, and apparently she has always been able to see colors but her sight got fucked up when she met 'the master'. I'm pretty sure the master is Father/Slender Man.

That she calls him 'the Master' is very telling of the kind of proxies shes becoming... kind of worried she might hollow. A lot of them that call him that hollow in the short term of their careers... concerning.

Oh well.

Vallus out.

Amen and shit.

Strength in Fucking Numbers

So our merry little band has grown again. After this post, Sloth, Vallus and I decided that since we were already on land, we should probably pick him up and help him out.  The car is getting a bit fucking crowded, especially since somehow I still end up the only one actually doing any fucking driving.Seriously, these assholes seem to expect me to chauffeur their asses about. Well, Sloth keeps trying to fucking drive but I get the distinct impression he never really learned how and is just fucking pushing pedals and hoping for the best.

At any rate, Moth is now travelling with us. We have no idea what the fuck we're doing next, but between the four of us hopefully we can come up with something. No sign of Writer for the moment, which is a good fucking sign. Things are about to get way fucking complicated without the bastard's interference.

Worship Like a Dog at the Shrine of Your Lies

You know my dad was philosopher? He'd spend all day drinking and at about three o'clock in the afternoon when I got home he'd stop and take pen to paper and write out insane drunken ramblings. And when he sobered up several hours later he'd sit their and try to decipher hidden meanings in his own words. Try to pick apart his own logic from his liberated state to uncover underlying truths that might apply not only to himself but to humanity as a whole.

This career choice came about after he was fired from Walmart. He convinced himself that he had unique ideas and an unique outlook and that since philosophy is largely opinion based, that he would be able to take those unique outlooks and bind them together as pages into a book that he was similarly convinced would sell well.

Dad's trip into philosophy taught me an awful lot. That people do whatever they want and justify it later, like when he would drink all day insisting it 'helped him think better'.

That people mean well but rarely do well, like when by father took all my toys to the pawn shop so we could afford food that week and came back with bags full of alcohol.

That people would sooner sink in the ship they know than board a floating ship they don't, like when my mother supported him in this dead end endeavor  for five years before she finally got fed up and left him.

That its better to let go and move on than stick it out for others. Learned that one when I ran away from my new home to visit my father a town over. When I finally got there, after what felt like hours of walking, I find his bloated corpse. He'd drunk himself to death and no one had found him in all that time. He had no friends... lost his family... just best not to look back as a ship sinks you know? Because you can't stop it. So you move on.

I never went home. I was too mad at my mother. He might not have died if she hadn't taken me away. A decision I regretted from that night on but one I never decided to over turn. For all my nights freezing out on the streets, for all my hunger, for all my longing to be found and held my spite over what she had done to my father kept me moving.

That last thing she said to me has always followed me. She said, "Pray for him. If you're good, maybe god will help him over come his demon's. Lord knows he's earned no good will of his own."

The longer I've thought about those words the wronger they have become. That kind of thinking underlines the problem with faith. Or more accurately, the underlying problem with most religions.

'If you're good, maybe god will help.'

Every religion establishes rules. Thing to do. Things not to do. They all enforce a sort of social order. And every religion promises that if you abide then at some point things will get better. Even if it only ever gets better after you die. Religions, in this sense, serve to establish order and generate good will.

And that makes them hypocritical. Because if you are obeying out of belief that this will serve you down the road then what you are doing can't be classified as 'good'. What you are doing is selfish and self-serving. You help others because you believe it will help yourself. You obey not because it is whats right but because it is what is right for you.

Philosophy tells us we should play lip service, even if we don't believe on any level because it costs us nothing to have faith. If there is no god, then we miss out on nothing. But if there is a god and you had no faith then you miss out on everything. Philosophy advises that you 'hedge your bets'. And it is in this way that these religions and the field of philosophy hold us back as a species.

We should not be resigning ourselves to the promise of good fortune in exchange for giving good will and behaving. I'm not saying don't believe. I'm not saying that religions are wrong. But they are holding us back. We should not need a reason to promote good will among ourselves. We do not need to be threatened or bribed into being good people. We should just be good fucking people.

Just don't be a fucking shit head. Is that so hard?

Don't be good because someone wants you to. Just be good because its the right fucking thing to do.

Its in this sense that I find Proxy to be a more honest faith. No one hold any illusions about being a proxy. Why do we serve? Because we want to survive. Why do we worship him? In a desperate bid for mercy. No illusions that this is the right thing to do. No illusions that we are doing what we are doing to help others. Just pure unbastardized self serving murder.

An honest faceless faith.

Sloth out.

Living in a Dream About You

Hey guys, Sloth here. I had a dream where crazy shit happened, and I went to a place, and other crazy shit happened, and then I had an insane revelation, and then proceeded to devote my life to insane shit for the rest of eternity... in that dream at least... It was pretty wild.

Sloth out.

Hahahahaha.

Just fucking with you.

Its your girl Vallus here, giving that good ol' prayer.



May Father always keep me and Darkness hide me.
May I have never have to look back, for he is surely behind me.

I pray Silence hear me and Obsession Guide me.

Compulsion consume me so they may never find me!
And thus we write.

Amen.



Hehehe. To blog is truly to pray in his name. These words are monuments erected in his glory.

It is the one true exercise of Faith to Father that Masks are denied under their oath and I am loving being able to finally indulge myself in it. Writing truly is a marvelous wonder.

So, I intercepted the laptop so Sloth couldn't write up another one of his incredibly inane dream. I swear, the man does nothing but spew senseless fluff. He... even... writes all his... sentences... like this.

Fluff I say! Fluff!

Feel like there may be some irony in that statement.

I should probably bring up something relevant, eh?

Here's a bombshell.

I killed Sloth and Nat. I'm one of the Smiling man's bride's now. You should have seen the wedding because I sure couldn't. He burned out my eyes.

I'm joking again. I didn't take Smily/Writer up on his deal. I hung out while Sloth and Nat took turns sleeping to make sure I couldn't slit their throats in their sleep. Not that I would have... I'm not quite sufficiently pissed off at them yet.

After Smily attacked we headed back to the shore so we wouldn't be cornered on our own boat anymore and then we stole a car.

That took about two days.

As we were driving, Smily appeared waiting for us in the middle of the street. He dropped hundreds of thorny roses onto the road. Thorns so sharp they actually managed to pop the car tires. And between the tires blowing out and the slippery floor of roses we were driving on, the car spun out of control.

I acted fast and dragged the other two into a Path portal when the car started spinning out. I barely got us in as the car began to flip.

The Path wasn't exactly friendly today though. We were greeted by a rabid pack of denizens, each with 8 horse legs that ran really fucking fast. We were lucky the exit door wasn't far from us. We so narrowly escaped the denizens that Sloth was headbutted out by one of them on his way through the portal. Thank god none of them came through... although I don't think its possible for them to get through... never seen them try... fluff...

We landed in a shack in the middle of nowhere. Nat proceeded to thank me for saving her life by beating the shit out of me. Shes a cunt.

After that we walked to a motel to wash up. We all needed it. In the morning, I assume continue our journey to... I actually have no idea where we're going. To somewhere I guess.

Whatever.

Vallus out.

Fuck Boats

As Vallus so helpfully shared, we've been on a boat in the middle of the ocean for a while now. I hate boats. They're floating vomit machines, and if it were up to me, I'd never step foot on one ever again. Not that I ever have the luxury of getting my way on such trivial things. No, the boat has been the safest place for us, since it's very hard for anyone to sneak up on us while we're the only thing not ocean in sight in every direction. I'll be honest, even I don't know where we are, beyond 'on a boat'.

Somehow, though, Writer found us. Found me. He covered the railings on the deck in flowers one night a couple days ago. I tried to set them on fire, which wasn't one of my best moves, but to be fucking honest, I'd had just about enough of this bullshit and just wanted to get rid of them in a hurry. He showed up and put the fire out, unfortunately. Smug as always with his stupid little bits of French and his fucking suits and his goddamn flowers.

I stabbed him on sight, but as usual  he just laughed it off, this time electing to dump a huge amount of flowers on my head. They came up to my waist and got in my clothes as they fell, which as you might guess, took me a minute to get out of. In the meantime he gave Vallus roses and tried to talk her into killing Sloth and I. I'm still not completely convinced she's not going to, but she insists that she doesn't plan on it.

She talked to him for a moment, then Sloth came out with a net that he then lit on fire and tried to toss over Writer. Instead, due to some fuckery on Writer's part, it hit me instead. I have fucking crosshatch burns on my face and arms from the net, but a bit of aloe and some time should fix them up. Not sure what we're going to do next, but it's clear that we're not safe even in the middle of the ocean.

A Fresh Poison Each Week

Woo. Blogger account and a blog. At long last I've joined the immortal ranks of those bold enough to give chorus to Father in his only true form of pray. Compulsion consume me.

My name is Vallus, Miss Vallus. Call Sign Otheos of the now mostly deceased Bravo Squad under the Mask Cult, better know in our own circles as Fracture's near Finest. Second string losers at their finest!

 Those seeking an explanation as to why Nat keeps letting Sloth post, its because their conversations go something like this.

Me: 

Nat, your account is incredibly uninformative. You left out a lot of shit and embellish like fucking crazy. You make me out to be some fucking nut job and yourself out to be some unstoppable action hero.

Nat:

You want I should get online and spill all our secrets you crazy bitch.

Me:

If you're just gonna lie about what happened why get online to report it at all?!

Sloth:

Calm down you two. I'll go on and set the record straight and explain exactly what happened.

And then the crazy asshole gets online and just starts fucking rambling about his dreams and vampires and demons and... cheese burgers.

Fucking weird. Nat likes to call me weird but those two are fucking weird. You know hes not allowed to so much as touch her with out explicitly acting for permission? Sooooo fucking weird.

So now here I am and I'll fucking explained whats up.

Lets roll back the clock way fucking back on this shit. Not quite to the dawn of time though...

It happened after this post. Sloth gave the Bravo Squad a call and one by one talked us into turning on Fracture.

Jimmy was an easy flip. He hated Fracture. He hated us. He even hated Father. That asshole was mad at the world and was tired of playing second fiddle to Fracture's Finest. 

Ms. Jigsaw was a harder sell but he got to her through her pride. Convinced her that no runner or mindless monster or cultist was gonna give her the challenge to her intellect that she craved. That if she wanted that challenge, she would find it facing off with Fracture.

He got at me through my heart strings... He talked at me over the phone. Told me how Fracture would never love me like I wanted him to. How I was on Bravo team so he wouldn't have to deal with me and my affections and attention. That I'd die cold and alone if I kept on this path I was walking...

I was a mask back then. Fracture's idea. I was so eager to do whatever it was he wanted. Never really clicked at the time that what he wanted was for me to go away.

Even as Sloth shoved it in my face to try to flip me I couldn't accept it. I needed to hear it from him.

So, I went to his office.

Fracture:

Vallus! There's my second string mute. Whats up?

Me:

....

Fracture:

*He chuckled to himself and stood up and walked over.* I assume you have a message for me from Bravo or something?

Me:

*When he got close I lifted my mask and kissed him...*

Fracture:

*... which prompted him to shove me away.* What was that?

Me:

Fracture... *I said, my voice breaking. Apparently it does that if you don't use it for a while.*... n-no more games... I love you... p-please stop pushing me away...

Fracture:

... I... I can't do that Otheos. I'm sorry.

Me:

......

Fracture:
Lets just... forget this-

Me:
Whats her name?

Fracture:

Don't do that. There isn't anyone else. I'm just not interested. Grow up.

Me:

... Fuck you too.

And then I left.

Me and the rest of Bravo squad dressed up as Navi, Picasso, and Moth. Dying your hair sucks ass by the way.

The only one us that didn't flip was Ralph. Sloth sat there on the phone and talked at him for over and hour but that stubborn ass didn't budge. He was also the only member of the group who wasn't technically a mask. He was our supervising Fire Cultist. A high ranking one two. He could shoot fire balls and everything. A very rare and well sought after ability amongst their ranks. Which meant he could talk... or rather was allowed to talk. Although he rarely did. Happened when you work with all mutes.

He tried to convince us to stay but... we had already made up our minds. In hindsight we were lucky her didn't immediately go to Fracture and out us all then and then. I almost feel bad outing him over that but he really should have just went with us.

Anyways, after we left we met up with Picasso and her group and took up the path they were taking while they went else where to better cover their tracks as Sloth had requested of us.

We eventually cornered ourselves and trapped ourselves in a loop. Jimminy Cricket went crazy and we had to put him down. My best friend Jigsaw snapped under the pressure of our impending door. Only reason I made it out was the farm girl we had kidnapped. We found a chick who, like Picasso and Navi, was a natural Redhead. We were gonna use her as a sacrificial lamb to confuse Fracture's goons when they closed in on us.

And that's kind of what happened. I left her behind, tied up in the loop and managed to finally escape before Fracture and his Fire Cult goons fire bombed the loop.

That poor runner girl... I can't remember her name.... started with a I. She died so that I could make a clean escape.

Then that Fucker Fracture had the gull to bad mouth me on his fucking blog.

After all that I called up Sloth to let him know I was alive and to cuss him out for trying to send me to my death. He insisted that wasn't his intent and arranged for us to meet up at Fracture's office in Disney College at the Disney Resort in California.

FYI, that place is calling with proxies.

But Fracture's office was a safe place to hide out because he never uses it. He keeps to his precious compound. What got us in trouble was Sloth. He used the badge Fracture had given all back when to get in. Naturally, Sloth's badge number was being monitored for by the computer and was probably flagged. I'm assuming that's why we got hit with a helicopter attack.

And attack that went much worse for us than Nat let on. Poor Sloth took a bullet in the arm shoving Nat out of the way of a shot. If it hadn't been for all those decorative trees we'd be fucking dead.

Once we escaped we ducked into a parking complex in Los Angeles proper where I performed some home surgery to get the bullet out of Sloth's arm so he could use it probably and not eventually die of led poisoning. Hes really fucking lucky she was using a low caliber suppressed sniper rifle or he could have very well lost his whole fucking arm.

So after driving around aimlessly for a while, we stole a boat. Now we're sailing. Good luck finding us in the Pacific Fracture. Fuck you fuck face.

~Vallus

Cheese Burger

I had another Dream.

I was riding around with the Demon.

I knew he was the demon. I could see it when he looked at me in the way that he looked at me... wide brazen eyes. Whenever I saw those eyes I knew that they knew. I did not know that it is that I knew that they knew. That wasn't the important part. That wasn't the... horrifying part. No. I didn't need to know what it was. Just knowing that they KNEW whatever it is that they knew was enough to fill my heart with terror.

I could see the sun out. But it was night. It wasn't the sun. I just thought of the light as sun light because whatever the light actually was was making it look like it was dawn out. But it wasn't. When you actually checked for it. There was no sun... just endless dusk on a nameless night.

The Demon drove me around for quite a while. We were running errands but we were driving so very far away for these errands. I remember trees and fences and fields as I stared out the side window away from the beast wishing I was somewhere else.

But my eyes did wonder. I turned away from the dusk shaded fields to my right to find it was night through the front window. Just black out. Whatever that light was, it wasn't touching the things right in front of us. Or so I thought. When I turned back toward where the dusk was it was gone. As were the fields and and the fences and the trees. No more dusk laden meadows. We were in a dark place now, surrounded by red buildings with red sidewalks and black roads. Black Lamp posts shining red lights down on the world were the only source of light here.

... that and a single massive sign just to the left of the car we were in.

I leaned back to get a good look at where we were.

McDonalds, in all its proper colors. The building and the sign weren't a crimson red like everything else. It was a little slice of reality in this horrid poorly lit world.

"I want a cheese burger," said the Demon.

I froze when he stop and then turned to give him a funny look.

His gentle knowing demeanor quickly changed into something more impatient and frustrated.

"I said... I. Want. A. Cheese. Burger... get to it."

I looked up at the building again and then back to the demon before taking a deep breath and getting out of the car.

'I can do this. Just a cheese burger. Easy.'

So I walked over to the door and opened up... took a step in.

The lighting was wrong. Most McDonalds are well lit and inviting. This place had nothing but florencent over head lights hanging down a foot from the ceiling, all of which lacked covers so you could could see the tubes making the lights. There weren't enough of them across the store's floor. They were just over tables. The areas between tables where notable less lit... like a poker room I guess?

There were five people in this store. All of them black and brown. Mostly short hair with visible scars and odd markings. Not tattoos but... almost recognizable faces and shapes pressed into their flesh... brandings maybe. Two of them where in the McDonalds outfits. All of them where grathered around one of the round tables close to the clerks counter and the cash register.

When they saw me, one of the ones in the employee outfit jumped on the table and bared their teeth... their long toothy fangs...

"MEAT!" he declared pointing at me as the other four people from around the table stood, the four of them presenting their own fangs in turn.

I pressed against the door and tried to get it open but it wouldn't budge. The one on the table dropped down and started walking toward me, the other four following close behind me. I put my hand up in front of my face. It was all I could think to do in my panic... when I fell the door I was pushing on suddenly give and then stop.

I opened my eyes to find the Demon had opened the door. He pushed me back out and stood between me and the creatures in a commanding stance. "This ones mine."

The five creatures all hissed and clawed at nothing in the air like beasts before backing up and returning to their table.

The Demon directed me back to the car.

I hesitantly climbed in... still very rattled from what I had just seen.

"Wh-What the fuck was that."

"Vampires."

"... What?" I looked at him funny. Like somehow vampires were a stretch when I knew I was talking to a demon.

"Beings that feed on great emotion," he said with a grin before looking back at the road and driving off.

He never got that cheese burger... but I knew that wasn't the point of that stop.

As we I leaned back in my seat and basked in the sweet glow of this fake dusk, I knew one thing. Wherever it was this car was taking me didn't matter. Nor did I need to worry about what we were doing... why we were doing it... nor did it matter that I was of doing whatever it was I was doing with the Demon.

I was his. And that's why we stopped there.

So he could show me... it didn't matter what he sent me to do or where he took me... because he was there...

Regardless of what happens at each stop, hes always going to be there.

I just need to accept his choices... take his orders... and try to enjoy the ride.

Sloth Out

Disney Land Fucking Sucked

Shit just gets fucking weirder and weirder the more I get roped into things. Our most recent bit of absurdity was literally a trip to fucking Disney Land. Apparently one of Sloth's friends was fucking hiding out there. I don't get it either, don't fucking ask me, the bitch is very odd. She's spent the time since we picked her up alternately screaming at us, being almost suicidally depressed, and being perfectly fine. It's tiring.

Anyway, Sloth said his friend, another rebellious proxy type, was hiding out in this one building in Disney Land. Thankfully we didn't have to pay to get in, he knew a back way so we didn't have to deal with all of the creepy people in animal suits and snotty children and crap. What we did have to deal with, however, was the bitch going nuts on us and threatening Sloth when we got up there to save her ass. Stupid bitch thought that he'd tricked her and her friends into deadly situations as a mole for Fracture. Like he'd betray anyone for that piece of shit asshole.

We didn't really get a chance to talk her down before a fucking HELICOPTER showed up with a sniper trying to shoot us. Seriously. A fucking helicopter. Fracture must be running scared because that was the biggest fucking overkill I've seen in a long time. Also, that sniper was shit at their job because we're all just fine. I guess Vallus decided we weren't trying to get her killed after I saved her life. Which is good because otherwise I might've thrown her back out of raw frustration.

In any event, Fracture loses again, we're all fine, and even fuckface is going to have a damn hard time getting to us for a while. So in conclusion, fuck you. Seriously.

Smiling Man

Smiling Man, oh Smiling Man, that wicked skull can grin. Have you met the Smiling Man? Mr. Jack.

Jack Skellington.

Fracture has a lot of theories on what exactly the smiling man is. New fears don't just sprout out of no where and the Smiling man is a very specific fear of a very specific set of usually appreciated social behaviors.

Fracture theorized that this fear of being treated well piggy backed on a fear of strangers, Father's territory, and as such the smiling man was potentially a very specific aspect of Father given new life through broad recognition of Father but in a way irreconcilable with what Father is at the very core of its being causing it to split off or be forcibly split off.

Fracture believed this to be the culprit.

Its just... sickening.

He even goes so far as to give them both flowers...

But that's just one mad man's theory, and fuck that asshole. Fuck you fuck face.

And fuck the fucking Smiling Man.

Nat's absolutely convinced it's not really him... that it's this guy from her past, 'Writer', pretending to be a Fear. But that doesn't seem to be as comforting as you'd think it would be.

I've caught her shaking, heard her wake up in the middle of the night breathing heavily, seen her frantically jump and look over he shoulders when ever she brushes something. She's absolutely freaked. It's heart wrenching to watch her make a complete 180 from her confident bold self to scared and panicked at the first sight of a flower.

We've been hulling ass since that last run in with him. Neither of us wants to risk another run in.

You don't realize how damning he is when you first meet him. He laughs. He smiles. He speaks in a charming french accent.

But for all my running around the room, I couldn't get away from him. For all our fighting we couldn't stop or kill him, not really at least. Fuck, he went so far as to lean into my shots to make sure I'd hit him so I could see how pointless it was. He fucking filled our car with flowers in the five minutes we were away from it. He LET us dig our way into the car to drive off. He LET us go.

For all that speed, ability, and those sharp fucking claws, he could have just ended us at any time.

But he just follows you. Talks to you. Informs you of how rude you are.

You can't even try to talk back at him. He ignores your counter points and just keeps picking away at you.

I hope to god we don't have another run in because one of these days he'll catch us while hes in a sour mood and that'll be the fucking end of us.

Quite frankly, given my history with the Smiling Man and assuming it really is him, I'm surprised I survived any visit from him...

Fucking Jackass

If it's not one fucking thing, it's another. Fucking Writer showed up again today. He'd dumped a bunch of flowers in our motel room, then snuck up behind us while we were getting our shit together to get the hell out. The sick son of a bitch was trying to play with us, jumping around and using his Loop bullshit to make sure we couldn't stop him. As satisfying as it was to stab and shoot him repeatedly, it lost it's charm when the motherfucker just kept getting up.

After a bit of that we decided to switch tactics and just get the fuck out-but the bastard had dumped a fuckload of flowers in the car, so we had to dig them out so the pedals and seats were accessible. There are still random flower petals everywhere and the whole car REEKS of perfume. Writer followed us out to try to taunt us while we tossed the flowers out of the car, and I'm pretty sure Sloth pissed himself at one point, but we managed to get out there without much further trouble.

YOU LOSE AGAIN YOU TWISTED JACKASS. BITE ME.

Reiterating

I guess...?

Nat's mad at me. She wants me to talk about the uh... abduction.

We were abducted. By two men pretending to be cops... or maybe they were crooked cops. I don't know.

I know they pulled us over. Then one of them started saying a bunch of sexist things to Nat along the lines of how she should be 'on her back with her ankles to her head.' You know, class stuff like an asshole would say.

She really kept her cool. I was impressed. He had started humping the door between them before Nat finally snapped and pounce on the asshat with a knife. The she got tasered by the other one. I looked up at he and he shot me in the forehead with his other ready taser. That sucked.

Passed out. Guess I should be lucky I didn't get a stroke... or a heart attack... or fucking brain damage.

I woke up naked, arms tied above me with rope and hanging off a hook.

The guy in the room was setting up a camera.

"We're gonna give Fracture a little show and see if we can't get him to give us a little bonus with a home movie," laughed a man dressed as a butcher. Kinky.

Homo-erotic, as Fracture might say.

So that dumb ass put his back to me. I got to getting out of my ropes. Fun fact, rope is weaker than metal hooks. If you can shimmy it right, you can cut yourself free on your own hook.

Or slit your wrist. Both are better than torture.

I rolled the dice and won, freedom.

I picked up a fire extinguisher at me feet. I get the sense that the finally for my little show was to be set ablaze as there was also gasoline in the room. Such class when they try to burn my ass.

So like I was saying, Fire extinguisher. Bashed the butcher's head in from behind.

That when Nat broke into the room for a peep show. Apparently, she had killed everyone else.

So we collected our effects, stole a new car from among those around the little abandoned hut in the middle of the desert we were in, and kidnapped the coked out druggy Nat found in one of the rooms.

Here a little bonus update of events since then, I took the coke addict out when Nat was napping. I dressed her up to look like Nat, bought her some knives, and then send her to a homeless shelter to try to 'fix her life.'

Should throw any on the border pursuers off our tracks.

Enjoy the crack head Fracture.

Fuck you Mexico, back to the land of Freedom Fries and Dutch toast!

Sloth out.

Love

I had a Dream about a child and it's Mother.

They were on a stone walk way. A side walk maybe. It was a dirty place. They themselves were ratty and filthy, dressed in outfits that were either hand-me-downs or thrift shop purchases.

The mother looked so tired. She marched down the street determined to get home but given her state she could have found rest just as easily in the middle of the street as she could her house. From a glance you might notice her bruises and the finger marks in her skin and figure she was worn down from an unpleasant domestic situation. If you took a minute to talk to her, you would probably assume it was work that had her so spent given the various complaints about it she was willing to give to any ear she could find willing to pay her any mind.

And if you stopped to watch her for a while and realized she dragged that child along everywhere she went, you'd probably realize that its a great many things that has her so down. A man, if she even has one, seems to be the least of them.

And I watched them for a while. They were an oddity. Before I realized it I wasn't watching them anymore.

I was looking up at my Mother as she dragged me around from place to place.

'Other people are so tall,' I lamented to myself. 'Wish I could be tall'

I couldn't remember a time where I had ever saw someone short like me. Just my mother and the blur of normal people we passed by as she took me from place to place. They never had people like me with them. No one to drag around. I must look so odd.

I wanted to ask why I was the only short one here but I didn't feel like getting thrown against the wall today so I kept to the rules and didn't talk.

Hate those stupid rules.

But I saw something as we passed an alley... made me stop which made my Mother stop in turn. I had never done that before. She looked at me with a confused look before following my eyes down the alleyway until she saw what I saw.

A body. The body of a small girl, another little person like me. There are others...

"Oh. Poor child."

I bit my lip a moment before finally venturing to talk. "Ch-... Child?"

"Yeah... like you. A kid."

"A little person..."

"Yeah I guess. Not like you won't be as tall as me when you're my age. In fact, you'll probably be taller."

I was in a world of wonders. There are others. And we change. One day, we get tall!

"Me and her will be tall one day?" I asked so I could be sure I was understanding right.

"You will. She won't. She won't ever do anything ever again. She isn't alive anymore."

"... Alive...?"

She rose an eyebrow in confusion at my question. "Yeah. You know what that is right? You can't possibly be this dumb."

What... is alive. I'm alive I guess? If I give her life, can she do things again?

"What does it mean to... 'be alive'?"

Mother stared at me for a good long while, as if it was somehow inconceivable that I didn't know.

'How would I?' I thought to myself. No one had ever yelled it at me in the street in passing trying to get me to move. Where else was I supposed to learn?

It felt bad. Like maybe, something was wrong with me. 'Why don't I know the things I'm supposed to know?' I wondered to myself as she stared at me bewildered by my ignorance.

"Well... let me show you," she said as she pulled out a thin metal object. "I want you to focus on this sensation," she told me as she slit my throat.

I tried to scream in pain but there was no sound anymore. I started to feel heavy. God it hurt so bad. I fell to my knees, my brain racing trying to comprehend what had just happened. Trying to sift through the rush of agony and the surge of adrenaline.

I reached out toward my Mother as my vision blurred. I cried out for her in a hoarse voice but barely any sound made it out.

Wh-What was happening? How do I make it stop?

Oh my god, the red stuff is coming out! I can't get it go back in. Its everywhere!

"That rush. That's life. And sensation of loss. That's life. That confusion and desperation in the face of a hopeless situation. That is life. That pain, that inescapable all consuming pain as everything gets taken from you slowly turning the world into an incomprehensible blur of misshapen monsters, THAT IS LIFE. I have done everything I can to keep you from that. So you'd be safe... but real love means keeping you safe from all pain for good."

I felt something grab my hair and lift me up. I tried to yell out in pain but I instead spit up blood as that metal implement got forced into my chest over and over again before Mother finally let go of me once more. I crumpled over onto the floor. I couldn't move and everything felt so cold.

"Remember that Mommy loves you. That's why she saved you like this. You'll be forever safe, right here with mommy. No more pain, ever.... can you hear me? I love you."

But I was gone by then. No more thoughts. No more sensation. Just darkness. Just the infinite black void. A place where I was nothing... but I was safe as nothing.

Fuck all of this crap

Fracture, stop sending incompetent idiots. Or maybe don't, because if you sent someone competent, one of us might actually get hurt. Still, sending rapists after a woman is cold, even for you. Don't you like to pretend you're better than that or something?

For those of you who aren't fuckface, here's how it went down. We were just about to hit the border when a couple of cops showed up out of nowhere. We weren't sure if they were there for the stolen car, just pulling us over out of boredom, or if they'd been bought, but it didn't much matter. Cops are always fucking trouble. ALWAYS.

These ones were pretty fucked up. Pigs tend to be sexist, racist pricks, but the one in particular who came up to talk right when we pulled over was the fucking worst. Rambled on and on about how women can't drive, about how I shouldn't be driving because I was a menace to everything on the road, and how I should be back in the kitchen or getting fucked.

I'll admit, I lost it. I killed that fucker right then and there. Turns out, I had good reason. His partner zapped me while I was killing him, and next thing I knew I was waking up chained to the ceiling listening to the assholes debating on whether they were allowed to rape me before they sent me in to get their money. If I hadn't managed to get free... Well, there were three of them, and they decided that they'd probably still get their money if they had their fun first.

The idiots came in one at a time, the first one planning on having his way with me, the other two investigating the silence. Those three went down fast too. No way in hell would I ever allow a rapist shithead to live. They had another woman chained to a bed in the room next to mine. I freed her before I found Sloth, and then we got the fuck out.

You act so fucking high and mighty, and yet this is the kind of scum you're willing to give your money? Fuck you. We're still alive, and we're staying that way.

Fenrir

I had a dream about a wolf.

The wolf was a monster by its very nature but that was a fact it could not accept. So it sought out people it thought could help it understand itself so it could better itself and learn to repress urges the world at large would view as bad or monstrous.

What it found was pain and betrayal. The wolf was caged. Tortured. Experimented on in the mindless pursuit of causeless knowledge. Man is always so quick to try to know what they can't truly grasp.

Its debatable if what entered that building was a foul beast or simply a wolf, but what broke out was a monster. Angry. Hungry for vengeance. Desperate to see what it considered to be justice.

And the wolf found allies. First among the morally ambiguous, then amongst those others would consider good. But for all his efforts and all he did with all his power for what he had been taught was right, his involvement only seemed to make things worse and get his friends and loved ones killed.

In the wake of possibly losing the one person left that he held dear, the wolf gave into its darker nature and fed on those that posed as a threat to her safety.

But the damage was done... she would never be okay again... and she would never be unable to see the wolf as anything but a monster again.

But at that point he didn't care anymore. When he gave in and started to feed himself in all the horrific ways he had denied himself before, she stopped being a thing he loved and started being a trinket. A trophy of his victory, not too unlike the pile of bodies he now called his bed.

The world would forever curse him and call him a monster. But he would know better. He knew that he was one of their betters. That they were lowly little humans. Men. Mortals. All of them, just animals.

But he was God and this was his right, to be strong and tower above all before him and feed on whatever he liked.

Which was everything, but the poor girl at his side.

It was quite a nightmare.

I'm a fucking action hero

Since you're reading this, we're obviously both still alive, Fracture. You failed. Again. Fuck you.

For everyone who isn't fuck face, this is how it went down. After my last post, we got a threat from Fracture saying that we'd be dead before we hit the border. So he knew we'd gone down to Mexico, good for fucking him, right? I wasn't too worried, though I kept my guard up because doing otherwise would have just been stupid.

I have to admit, I was not expecting the attack to come at a random gas station in the middle of nowhere. But it did. A group of them came at us while we'd split up to refuel and get more food and shit. I killed the three after me without too much difficulty, then I had to go save Sloth's ass. Again. He's surprisingly high maintenance for someone who's managed to survive as long as he has.

We thought that was the end of it, but then we discovered that one of them had stolen our car. Which they immediately tried to use to run us down. Cowardly shitstain. We got the hell out of the way, and the guy drove off with our car and our supplies. I stole another car and we took off, aiming at that point to get away long enough to stitch up our wounds and shit. No such luck, our old car and a couple others came tearing after us.

I outran the other two cars, but our old car was hot on our tail, so I gave Sloth the driver's seat while still tearing down the highway, swapped over, and shot out a tire on our old car. It was at this point that I realized we needed to get our shit back if we could manage it, so Sloth did a very tidy turn around and got me close to the old car. This is where shit got really intense. I darted out of the car, across the highway to our old car, while the other two cars caught up and started shooting at me. I managed to not get shot while I crossed, then used the car door from the old car to protect myself while I pulled shit out of the car. The idiots from the other cars got out to try to shoot me, while I darted back across the highway to Sloth, and we sped off leaving the idiots in the dust.

We're gonna be juuust fine. I guess your people are as stupid as you are, fuckhead.

Gotcha, motherfucker!

So we win. Sloth and I did a good job of vanishing and apparently staying out of shit, right? I'm betting you still have no idea where we are. I mean, you've been distracted with 'more important' things and being a COMPLETE FUCKING MORON about them.

Newsflash, fuckhead. Neither he nor I are traitors to anyone but you. It's kind of fucking pathetic how convinced you are that everything you're doing is exactly what the skinny bastard wants. Your selfish, revenge fueled vendetta is what's getting your people killed. Not our betrayal. That's why the Masks took our side. God your fucktarded.

Your move, bitch