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