Wednesday, December 28, 2011

A Chat With Our Host

I don't want to talk about it. After the other night, I ended up sitting down with him and asking the sort of questions I wasn't sure I'd get a chance to ask.
The transcript is here, and the fucker didn't leave /anything/ out. Even the stuff I would've preferred to keep quiet.
I'd be rather pissed, except it's kind of nice having him concerned enough to do this crap.

For those of you concerned enough to wonder, yes I'm still miserable, no I'm not going to do anything drastic, and yes I've got the drinking under control, thank you. Also, despite what it sounds like, I'm not deliberately starving myself, I just have no fucking appetite.

I'm fine, really. Just fine.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

You know, sometimes I ask myself.

Elaine, are most Runners this fucking loaded, or is it just your friends? I mean, after Hope and the House and now Benjamin's, a guy's gotta wonder.

So yeah. We're at Ben's place for the holidays. Arrived on the 24th, actually - pretty posh fucking place, I've gotta admit. It was better than motels, anyway. Then again I'd take a cardboard box off the side of the highway instead of hotels at this point as long as it meant I slept in the same place every night.


Never really liked the holidays. Always reminded me of the shit I didn't need and couldn't afford, even if I wanted it. Family lived out-of-province so it wasn't like there was much getting together. Really my best memories of the holidays were the parties in college, and even then I only got two or three of those. Fuckin' great time. You've never been to a Christmas party until somebody spikes the eggnog and they start strobing the red and green lights. Still got a kink in my nose from one of 'em. Woke up covered in blood from the nose down in the middle of a pile of passed-out liberal arts majors. I don't know what was more colourful - my hair, or the carpet after somebody poured food dye into the drinks.

Art colleges are fuckin' weird. Even totally shitfaced they still manage to create masterpieces.

Never managed washed it out of the carpet, either. Not from what I heard. Some dorm in the University of Regina's got a floor like a box of crayons that flew a little too close to the sun because a few fine art students decided to revel in the Christmas spirit.

But I digress.

It's pretty damn hard to top a Christmas like that, but this year wasn't far off. (Not like it had much competition.) Em's got the biggest and most adorable fuckin' grin and you should have seen how she beamed when she opened her presents. Elaine got me a couple things and I managed to provide a few presents of my own. The food was fanfuckingtastic and I can still kind of taste the sweet potatoes a day and a half later.

Two days. Whatever.

Elaine went to try and find the couriers today.

Yesterday. Whatever.

Try's the operative word there. Couldn't find the House and she's a guilt-ridden wreck for it. Gone and locked herself away in her room with some rum and a sad, sad song. Can't really blame her. Feel pretty goddamn responsible for what happened to them, m'self - can't help but wonder if I wasn't around Fitz might've held it together long enough to get it under control.

Okay, maybe I lied about the song. Maybe that's me.

It's something like 3 AM now and I can't really talk myself into sleeping. Instead I've started counting the threads of the sheets under my legs. Playing off this train of thought. Putting down what comes to mind. Got no reason to censor anything, really.

Well, maybe a few things.

But don't we all have dirty little secrets?



Night, blogosphere.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Holidays are Fucking Exhauasting

Just posting briefly to say that we've made it to Benjamin's place. The stockings are hung, presents are under the tree, Em's happily asleep in her room after watching Christmas movies till I wanted to scream.

I've never been a big fan of the holidays, but it's nice to see her smiling properly again.

Benjamin's a good host, if you wanna hear about the mundane bullshit, just follow the link to his blog. I'm gonna go fill some stockings, then crash.

Maybe then I won't have to think about everyone that's not here with us.

Friday, December 23, 2011


Just a quick update from my phone. We're on the road right now, listening to the radio quietly so as to not to wake Em up, when we heard a rather ominous news story. I don't know how many of you keep up with this blog, but after what I just heard... the town they've settled in. Avondale.  According to the radio, the entire town went up in flames during the big parade Peter and Rachel have been talking about. No survivors found. Just a lot of bodies.

Bodies all piled up in City hall with their limbs stretched out. In a town home to perhaps one of the oldest slendercults. They thought it was over. The people in town didn't remember much. But the residents were marching in masks tonight. The night of the solstice. Hindsight is a fucking /bitch/. I just have to hope that maybe the fuckers were good enough to get the fuck out of town before shit went down.

It's certainly not looking good, anyway

Thursday, December 22, 2011

More Visits

Something I'd almost forgotten staying still for so long is that Running is dull. A long string of crappy hotel rooms and driving across frozen wastes-because we decided to stay in Canada for a bit instead of risking a border crossing again this soon. It doesn't exactly make much difference, my own preference for warm weather aside. And Elliott seems happier to be back in his own country.

That said, we're almost back to the US now. We're going to be spending Christmas with Benjamin, so Vermontward we go. Again. For a Southern girl like me I spend a damn lot of time in that state. I figure it's a good idea to give poor Em a real Christmas after everything. At least one of us ought to be happy.

In the meantime, we stopped to see David today. It was really good to see him, whatever else he might have done to people, whatever people might think of him, he's practically family, and he's done nothing but try to help me since we met. My hands aren't exactly clean, who the fuck am I to say who is and isn't worth my affection and respect? Anyone who spends the amount of time he does worrying about me and trying to help me is alright in my book.
Plus, Em absolutely fucking adores him, I can tell it did her some good to see him again. She needs to know that not everyone she knew and cared about is gone.

Otherwise, things are quiet. Quiet enough for me to get all philosophical about the Solstice. Yeah, this is going to be one of those posts, shut up and fucking deal with it.

A year ago a bunch of misguided, delusional morons got together with mediocre weaponry and halloween masks and thought they would be able to take down slendershit. The idea wasn't that they'd be able to kill him-from what I understand they all thought they were going to die. Or at least were aware that it was likely.
They thought that by bringing the Stalked together to tell stories about it, we could work together to end this once and for all.

They weren't stupid because they thought it would work, fuck no! As far as I'm concerned it was a brilliant fucking plan, one that was more likely to work than anything anyone's come up with before or since. No, they were delusional morons for thinking that people would remember to tell their stories. Apparently. Look around. Except for a select few, no one bothered to remember. No one bothered to finish the job. A story was never chosen, and those who died at the solstice died in vain, because all of us let them down.

And yet? Because of what they did, look at us now. The bloggers are uniting. Coming together again and again, really interacting. No longer are the Stalked scared children hiding alone in the dark. Whatever happens to us, whatever tragedies befall us individually, we are a community. No longer does each new death go quietly and unmourned. No more do we shiver in silence. We are united, moreso every day, and that is what makes us strong. Maybe one day we'll truly be united enough to end slendershit once and for all.

In the meantime? Lets take today to remember everyone we've lost.

Zero, Amelia, and everyone else that died in the Solstice. Jeff, Nessa, Maduin, Jean, Fizzbomb, and everyone who was left behind to pick up the slack. I salute you all. Your efforts for the Solstice failed because we let you down, but it's because of you we have hope for the future.

Cam, Emma, Star, Konaa, Michael, Josh, Joel, Lucas, Jennifer, Levi, and Adam. I'll never forget any of you. I loved you all like family. I wish I'd been able to save you.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Doing This Shit Out of Order

Right. I owe you all one hell of a post. I'd intended to go through and write about everything that happened since... since I last posted something actually informative. But honestly, I don't really want to write about the time I spent curled up in my bed, not moving for days at a time. I don't want to relive it, and it's really none of your business, you fuckers. The important part is Friday. Last Friday when Elliott came to me and told me that we needed to get out of there, the forest was going too far. To be honest, I'd hardly noticed anything strange, barely looked out the window.
But again, not the point.
The point is, we were in the middle of discussing the need to get out of there-and had just decided to leave first thing in the morning-when a certain redheaded bastard made his appearance. Just leaning nonchalantly against the wall like he had a right to be there. The rotten cunt.
I made the mistake of challenging him. Thought that perhaps out of the forest he'd stand and fight, but no. Instead of facing me like a man he used his Loop bullshit to threaten Elliott. They talked for a bit. In French. All I could understand was some swearing, something about Richard, and something about Harper. Then he threatened Em. In English, so I could understand.
I told Elliott to get out and check on her, which he did. I continued to challenge him, he continued to be a smug, cheating twat. And then he made a mistake. Decided he'd try to get under my skin. Didn't fucking work though, did it? The fucking lying bastard is going to meet his match one of these days and I sincerely hope I'm the one who gets to do the honors. The things he said and did... Well, I will see him pay, one way or another.

Right. On to less ominous business. We're on the road again. Met up with Richard again last night. I didn't stick around to see what happened. He made it pretty clear he didn't want me there. More travelling ahead, I think there's one more place Elliott wants to go.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Tying up loose ends.

Elliott again.

So, we're spending some time in Canada. No big deal. We really don't have anything better to do with our time- other than, you know, living which we kind of have to do anyway, as being six feet under or in little pieces tends to impede ones driving ability and yeah I'm a little tipsy, drinkign age is 19 here what of it - we really don't have anything better to do with our time and hey, I've got shit to do, Canada it is.

Stayed in my hometown for a couple days. I forgot how much of an utter shithole my family's old apartment was and why I moved out as soon as possible. Place didn't even belong to her anymore. Some old hag with some stupid fucking well-groomed rat she was trying to pass off as a dog - you know the type. The ones with the tiny legs and the massive heads and they shake and shake and yip and shake like windup toys and fuck I'm getting sidetracked again, aren't I - anyway, the place didn't belong to my folks. Surprise surprise. After my bank account had been wiped off the face of the earth and all of my information on every social networking site ever (include myspace, fuck I haven't even thought of the word myspace since 2005) disappeared and all of my friends have stopped answering my calls and the ones who do answer say I'm dead or have no idea who I am, I've kind of stopped being surprise.

Still being bitter, though.

Got one good thing out of it, though. Or as good as it can get when apparently you don't exist - which is a fairly common phenomenon among runners, apparently? Fucked if I know. I'm just a college kid.

Managed to get enough information out of one of my former bandmates to figure out I was buried in some hole-in-the-wall cemetery on the outskirts of the cathedral area. Kinda fuckin' funny if you ask me, seeing as I'm pretty alive and typing and not in some little shit graveyard.

We went. Of course we went. Because I'm a fucking idiot who can't let go of his old life. Because I want closure.

Well I got it, alright. In the form of a one-meter tall slab of stone.

Every man's life is a plan of God.

There were sunflowers on the grave.

Sunflowers, half-buried in the fucking snow. Most of them were dead or rotted but there was one, one little head hidden deep inside the others, that was a bright and as cheerful as the day it had been picked. A little ray of sunshine in a dark and dead and rotting world.

And I know who put them there, too.


I miss him.

Fuck I miss him.

How goddamn twisted is that? Kid killed for someone's sake. Then again, so did I - so did a lot of us. Something we said we'd never talk about but fuck, what does it matter now? What's done is done. Can't change what's happened.


We're meeting with Rich in a couple nights. Heading to the university and area to tie up the last of the loose ends - not going to be able to stop thinking about it until I do. Closure's a bitch to get sometimes.

Saw that red-haired bastard before we left the House. Writer. That one. Maybe Elaine will write about what happened there, god knows I'm too fucking depressed and too drunk to think about it right now. Words were exchanged, Writer threatened Em, we knew we couldn't stay. We were out less than half an hour later.

Don't die and shit. Updates to come.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Apologies and Eulogies

Well, it's Elaine again. I'm still alive, I'm doing just fine, and back more or less to normal.

I really just want to start all of this off by apologizing for a certain stupid thing I did. It was selfish of me to try to remove myself from all of this without thinking about those of you I'd be leaving behind. Most of you I've talked to one way or another to apologize to more directly, but I feel like I should say something here. According to Blogger, a lot of people read this fucking blog. Probably at least some of you are looking for guidance, just like I was, back when I started. I don't want my story to end with such a cop-out.
All of you reading this deserve more from me, and honestly, I don't really feel like giving up yet. There's a lot of fighting left for me to do before I get my rest, and I intend to make slendershit crazy trying to take me out.

It was just grief. Grief for everyone we've lost recently. Starting with the fall of Hope, I lost eight of the people nearest and dearest to me over the course of a week. As I've said in the past, I'm nothing fancy with words or feelings, but I feel like I ought to say something for everyone that's gone.

The Johnsons. Their blood is directly on my hands. The family came to Hope because it was the only chance they had left. When they arrived they'd lost everything but each other, and were managing to hold strong and raise their daughter well.
But they had too much faith in me. They said the safest place in the world for them was at my side, in Hope, even without special protection. Jennifer, Levi, and poor little Adam. They were a loving, close knit family, and they deserved better than what they got.  Elliott and I are taking care of their daughter. Emily is only six, but she's amazing. I hope we can raise her right and keep her safe.

Michael. Or perhaps I should call him Nemo? He were more himself before he took his name back. He was a dear friend to me, even when he was going mad. Down underneath the protective layer of douchebaggery was the kind and thoughtful man I came to know when he first came to Hope. I miss him a lot, and I will always regret that I couldn't help him when he came to me in the end.

Konaa. He was a hell of a brave, crazy kid. No, man. I called him a kid, but his actions proved himself to be one hell of a good man. He was another of the best of us. Noble, tenacious, kind. He never gave a crap about himself, he was always fighting for us. He never killed, never even harmed anyone unless he absolutely had to. He was a good friend and a good man. He will be missed by all. He died as he lived-standing for what he believed in.

Lucas. He was by far one of the best, kindest men I've ever had the good fortune to know. He helped me through a lot of shit right until the end. He was also the first other Stalked I really got in touch with when shit hit the fan, which made him... one of my oldest friends. The world has lost something, losing him.

Joel. He and I were close as well. Lucas and Joel were, for a while, a bright shiny example of true love in the face of adversity. Then he was taken by his Wolf. But he refused to give up. He fought his way back out for the man he loved. He shouldn't be remembered by his final actions, but as a man who did anything and everything to protect the man he loved.

Josh. He was a hell of a kid. Would've really been somebody if he'd gotten a chance to grow up and actually do things, instead of run from a faceless fuck in a suit.  I didn't get to know him quite as well as the others, but I knew him well enough to miss him now.

I'll try to get something up in the next few days talking about what's been going on with me.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Silence at last.

Staying at a hotel, the location of which I'm in no mood to give out. Already had to deal with a couple of tails on the way here. Last thing we need is another unwelcome surprise.

Always kind of liked hotel hopping. When I left the house to attend uni I spent a couple days moving from place to place, trying to find somewhere to settle. It was Zach who eventually got me a place near the school, actually. Kid always had resources. Knew people. Enough people to make you wonder.

Still kind of wonder.


Here's a little tip: Douglas Coupland had it right. Next time you stay at a hotel with rooms that have those big armoires that hold the TV, (most chains will have them - Holiday Inn, Comfort Inn, Super 8) climb up and feel around on the top. Housecleaning'll often miss that spot and people will dump anything they don't like there. Nasty, compromising stuff. Gifts people didn't want. Stuff they couldn't get rid of in case management or something found it. Tacky jewellery. Airport books you don't want to keep. Porn - and I mean the really, really dirty stuff. Drugs. Weapons. You name it, you'll probably find it up there. Found an abandoned hard drive once. Brought it to Alex. Guy spent a week going through security measures just to open the wrong file and watch the entire thing wipe itself and his computer completely blank.

Still kind of wonder.


Try it out. You'd be surprised at what you find. People are into some weird shit.

As I said earlier, we're out. Nothing new to report other than that. Head's quiet, Elaine's still a mess, Em's quiet and sad and I'm bouncing between them as best I can. August, I respect you. How you can deal with stuff like this all the time and keep going is a fuckin' amazing gift.

Don't think I know where we're headed to next. Probably just going to travel for a while. I've got... business to take care of north of the border and think that might be where we're headed next. Though how a missing person, an ex-convict and a somebody who doesn't technically exist will manage to cross the border is beyond me. I guess we'll have to figure something out.

I have to admit, I kind of miss Canada. Culture shock's fuckin' weird. I don't think I can respect a country where the only Tim Horton's lie 150 miles from the border and all of their money is the same colour. Just feels strange.


We'll see. Stay safe and all that.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

This House is insane.

Fuck. Fuck. Been in this place maybe a week and my head won't stop screaming at me.

Konaa's dead. Lucas is dead. Joel's dead. And so many others. People I've only read in passing. People I've only talked to once or twice. Michael. Josh. Why always the holidays?

Rest in peace. All of you. Konaa - no, June. June, you brave son of a bitch. I was going to tell you before you left that if you died before I could repay you I was going to be pissed. Guess now it's too late. Joel, what little time I spent with you was great. So, thanks for that. Lucas... everything I've heard about you tells me you were a great person. I wish we could have talked more than the passing 'hey's that we did. Everybody else... you fought the good fight - but everybody's gotta go eventually. Guess you can consider this my last respects.


This is getting ridiculous. It's one thing to stare at the wall of foliage from the safety of a guest room, advancing inch by inch as the days pass by. It's another thing to wake up with your window shattered and about five trees eagerly clawing at your doors, bedposts and closet.

It was a fun morning.

Talked to Fitz - afterall, he's already talked about it once. Apparently we can't escape that damn forest. Even when we're out, we're still not out. It's still a shadow in the back of our minds. A shadow that screams and pulls at nerve endings and calls to you in the dead of the night and no, Broodmoor, you're not listening to it because that's the stupidest fucking idea you've ever had but fuck, it's siren's song and there's only so many times you can get talked down from it before it just. Stops. Working.

Alex is looking better, at least. But the kid's quieter than ever - I don't blame him, though. This place is doing horrible things to me so I'd hate to see what's happening in his head. But with him in Rivers' care I know there isn't much I can do.

Going to talk to Elaine about leaving tomorrow. Don't know how much longer I can stay here.

Monday, November 28, 2011

She's Alive.

Barely. But she'll live.

Just thought I'd let you know.

I'm Done

Everyone's dead.  Hope is lost. I can't do this anymore. I just can't.
I'm so sorry.

August, this isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself.

Spencer. I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.

Lori... thank you for trying to help, I'm sorry for flipping out on you.

Elliott. Take care of Emily for me? I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you safe like I said I would.

Lis... I hope everything works out for you guys.

Tia, take care of Lis for me.

Richard, you were right. I'm sorry.

David, I'm sorry I failed you. Thank you.

Nick. Take care of yourself, you crazy fuck. Thank you for what you did for Hope.

Shaun. I.

Goodbye. I love you all. I'm so sorry for letting you down.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Where do I begin?

Elliott here.

Managed to wrestle coherency out of Elaine for a little while. I think anybody with a shred of common sense will figure she's not in the greatest of states - but hell, is anybody? Anyways. Got her functioning long enough to get myself on here. Figure you deserve an explanation.

Let me start off by saying we're safe - or, well, as safe as we can be given the circumstance. It's me, Elaine and Emily crammed in a car. It's spacious, at least, and Elaine and I are taking shifts. Em is basically comatose on my lap, the poor thing - she's got the softest brown hair and the clearest fucking blue-gray eyes and she just looks completely and utterly destroyed. I can't say I blame her, either - seeing what she saw there is something no six-year-old should have to deal with. Or anybody, for that matter.

From what I've heard, Rich and Shaun are travelling together. Good on them. They're tough bastards. Alex is with Steele, Rivers and Ray and they're not doing so hot - though they're alive, and fuck that's worth a whole lot right now. Rivers, Steele, thank you again for taking in Alex. I don't think I can express my gratitude enough. I don't even want to begin to think of what would happen to him if you didn't agree - and I'm so, so sorry about getting you dragged into this. Rivers, you'd better pull through. I've got a debt to repay to both of you.

But enough stalling.


I could tell the place was off the second we set foot inside the concrete walls. Something about the way the floors creaked and the way the light hit the paint made the place seem uncanny. It had the same smell in the forest - under the pine and the damp earth, there was the unmistakable /stench/ of sulfur, pine and something I think we eventually nailed down as tar. Acrid and bitter. It burned your throat and made your eyes water. It wasn't nearly as strong as the forest had been, but it was still there. Notes of it on the edge of every breath. If you didn't step out for some fresh air you'd develop a headache - or, that's what happened to the three of us. Rich hated the place, Alex was uneasy and I was on edge. Every time I'd slip to the roof for a cigarette I'd see the slender bastard at the edge of the property, watching. Waiting. As if something was keeping him out.

We figured that one out, huh?

It was one hell of a deal, too. Tried leaving Hope to go shopping with Alex once. Second we crossed the property line Tall, Dark and Slender was on us - on /Alex/. We weren't two steps over and got back before he could be snatched up, but I don't think I'd ever been more scared of losing one of them. The second we were back over He stopped. Went back to watching us. Waiting.

(And of course now that we're out it's only gotten worse. Off in the corner of your eye. Like you've got blind in the deepest part of your peripheral vision, except the hole wavers every once and a while. It's barely a movement at all - always seems to happen just when you forget it's there. The fucker's toying with you and you know it and goddamnit it's working.)


I'm stalling again.

Can you blame me?

(Yes. Get on with it, Broodmoor.)

I... wasn't actually around for the start of it. I was supposed to be out of Hope by noon today. While everybody was having what'd be the last communal lunch, I was packing. Missed the glorious reappearance of Slender himself, Rivers getting his leg splayed open and destroyed - by the sounds of it, anyways - and the chaos that tends to follow this kind of stuff.

But I'd be damned if I didn't feel it in the place. So could Alex. I think to an extend everybody else could, too. If you stared at the walls they'd flicker and the rotten eggs and pine stench was noxious. But that aside, the place was quiet. Peaceful. Deceptively so, you could say - the calm before the storm.

(And don't think I didn't notice the date. Maybe it's coincidence, but I'm not stupid enough to dismiss it so quickly.)

Then hurricane Slender hit with full force. Rivers loses the use of a leg, Steele grabs him, Ray and Alex and books, Nick and Ellen are off riding flaming wolves somewhere, (/how much I wish I was kidding about that/) and I come into the kitchen just in time to watch Jennifer and Adam get run through by Dr. Stalktopus himself.

Elaine's standing between them. Defending them from Slender. He doesn't take kindly to this, of course, and grabs her by the leg and tosses her across the room. It's then that He turns his attention to the mother and child and lets them share the same fate as their husband and father.

Adam wasn't old enough to chew his own food. Babbled and bubbled. Couldn't have been more than a year and he was slaughtered in his mother's arms. Her dad was killed off before then - shotgun only a couple feet away. I didn't want to think about it.

And there's Emily, staring in horror.

I grabbed her and ran. 'Course Slenderfucker grabbed me. Popped my arm right out of its socket. Hurt like a bitch. Still hurts like a bitch. Popped it back in a while ago but it's still awkward and painful as fuck. But I'll live. Bastard's been waiting twenty years for me - a few more won't kill Him.

Had my bag over one shoulder and Em over the other. Injuries be damned I wasn't going to let her die. Ran until we got out of Hope - which had by then turned into a maze in itself, doors leading into different rooms than the ones you entered through. Windows blocked halls and I think we ran along the top of a door frame at one point. It was messed up. BC had some seriously weird architecture, but that was unsettling. This just didn't make sense. The kitchen was on fire. The sitting room - the one with the piano - was soaked in gasoline. Wouldn't be long until the fire reached it and there'd be a sizeable boom to follow - at least if Hollywood has taught me anything.

Flash of red. Giggle. Green eyes.

Writer. Couldn't see the bastard but I knew he was there. Probably the one responsible for filling the rooms with gas. Crazy bastard.

(Guess the forest wasn't enough for you, huh?)

We started driving. We're still driving. Not going to stop until we get to Vermont.

Time for my shift. I'm probably forgetting a few things. Going to add what I can as I can.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Hope is dead.
Jennifer, Levi, and Adam are dead.
We're alive and running.
I've failed

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

The Situation

Most of you, I expect, have seen this by now, or at least this. It's true, apparently due to my own insistence on security when the deal was being made, the fact that I've now told all of you about it has broken it. I guess I didn't think it would really happen. Though, Shaun's reveal would've broken it anyway.

I got everyone out that would agree to go. The problem? The Johnsons refuse to leave. They say that if Hope isn't safe, there's nowhere left for them. Therefore, they're not going to drag their six year old daughter running around the country to experience that much more fear and pain and death before the end. So they're staying and hoping for a quick death for all four of them, basically.

Like I'm just going to let that happen. Which is where things get interesting. Ray decided to stay and help fight. Elliott and Alex are still here-they're sticking together until a certain Stalked psychiatrist can take Alex to get properly looked at.

We have four newcomers, all of which are staying to help, though some longer than others. Apparently when people figure out you're stuck in a situation like this, petty shit like... oh, breakups and fights don't matter so much.

Yeah, that's right. Nick and Ellen arrived late last night. They've got some crazy scheme for countering any attack on Hope, but it's dependent on getting everyone out. Which, as I've already mentioned, is a big fucking problem.

Steele and Rivers are also here. Amusingly enough, neither of them had the slightest clue about what's been going down-as I mentioned, they're here to pick up Alex. But they've decided to stay at least a little while and help me fortify a little more-which is... honestly quite decent of them.
Still, the three of them and Elliott are all leaving as soon as I can get them out the door. I am admittedly not worried about Nick and Ellen, they... are more likely to accidentally blow up the place than get killed, I think.

Spencer. I'm not going to die. Please try to calm down, alright? If any of us have a fighting chance against this, I've got the two of them staying upstairs.

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Truth, Part 3

Thank you, Shaun, for being overdramatic and telling everyone your version of the story without sparing any time to really learn the details.

First off. Yeah, I have a deal with David. Did any of you really think that I managed to keep Hope slenderfree without something like that? Lets start off by all being honest. No one wanted to ask-and anyone who did ask, got the truth.

No, I'm not handing Stalked over to get killed. Anyone who has left here knows that I make a point of not asking where they're going. I deal in information, and I do my damndest to not inform on anyone that's been under my protection-I can't tell them where you are if you don't tell me, you know.

No, it's not perfect, yes someone could get killed because of my information, but let me ask every last one of you something. If I'm saving all of these lives, if people are staying here and being safe, given some semblance of a life back, and I'm giving information on maybe one person a month? Not even one person a month dies, just one person a month is informed on. As of right now there are six truly permanent residents of Hope-a family. Two of the forest kids, one of them currently incapable of running because of the trauma sustained while there, and a family. A mother, a father, a six year old little girl, and an infant. How many others get to live that much longer because they've spent some time here to get the heat off, to recover and get some proper meals and full nights of sleep and hot showers?

Look me in the fucking eye and tell me all of these people aren't fucking worth it.

So yes, I made a deal with the proverbial devil, but that's for your benefit. Every last motherfucking one of you has a place here if you want it. Because I don't fucking want what happened to Emma and Star and Cam to happen to anyone ever again. You all deserve fucking better, and I've made it my mission to give it to you. If that makes me a bad fucking person, so be it. I'll be here, doing what I can to keep everyone safe.

So hard to do, and so easy to say...

I think it's only fair that people see the whole truth here, where it's more likely to have an impact.

First of all, this isn't Elaine. This is Shaun. Yeah, yeah, I know. Probably not the nicest thing I've ever done, account hijacking and all that. But it isn't my fault I have the password, now is it? Anyway, second, I'm sitting here in an absolutely gorgeous hotel room,(translation: it smells like ass) wondering where it is my life went wrong and what any of us did to deserve all of this....

I left Hope.

'Why?' you ask. Let me tell you why.

Hope is a fraud. A clever fucking sham that's been deceiving you all since practically day one. I know this because I heard Elaine herself talking about it. She wasn't in our bed when I woke up this morning, so I went looking for her. Usually there are a few places she hangs out fairly often so that people can find her, she wasn't in any of those places. I had to go find her on the roof, where she was apparently talking with David. I got there just in time to overhear a part of their conversation from my spot behind the door, and yes before you ask I was being a sneaky asshole and hiding for a bit. I don't trust David, and neither should any of you. After what he did to Jessie and what he's done here at Hope....yeah.

I managed to overhear this,

"Yeah, I'll hand him over by the end of the week. Fucker has it coming."

from Elaine to David.

I don't know who they were talking about. I don't know what the context was. But the sound of it is fairly awful, don't you think? It doesn't help that when I confronted the two of them, Elaine told me everything about the deal she has going with David to keep Hope 'safe'. Safe my fucking ass.

Elaine gives him information on you guys. All of you. Information about where you're headed, where you are currently, where you might be. It's not much but this is David we're talking about. If he wanted to get you he could and she's only making it easier. If he wanted to get you, it would be this easy.

And if He wanted to get you, it would be EVEN FUCKING EASIER!!


...So, that's why I left Hope. I'm sorry Elaine. I just can't let people walk into this blind, without knowing, and part of me hopes you can call the whole thing off and keep running Hope some other way. There must be another way of keeping the place safe that doesn't involve selling out and I'm sorry David used you to find new folks to prey on like that. It's not your fault. I don't blame you. I don't hate you for it. I just...I can't stay there, knowing what I know about what you're doing. And I can't keep quiet either because it's burning up inside my head and I have to tell you all to get out, every single one of you needs to get out right now before it gets any worse.

Hope is a lie. I should have known that from the very beginning. It always has been.

I'm getting back on the road again, after tonight. I've got all my supplies in a nice new duffle bag and I'm ready to go. This is my life. I've done this enough times to know how things work and what happens next. Time to go back on the run.

Goodbye Elaine.

Peace out, Hope.


Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Truth, Part 2

I had meant to type up excerpts as I went along, little tidbits of Cam's journals, talking about his life and interactions with me. Reading through them, it's painfully obvious that I underestimated how much of his life revolved around me.
It's humbling, really. It's obvious that the journals were never meant for my eyes. The first one starts the day I got involved with Slender, and they don't miss more than a few days up until his death. So many notebooks, full of his hopes and dreams and fears, and I'm honestly not certain if he ever went more than a page without mentioning me in some way.
And I pieced together a story. Now I know why I don't remember much of anything before I hit twelve.

When we were little, Cam and I were inseparable. Cam had a twin brother named Joey, but he was a bully and neither of us liked playing with him. I only very vaguely remember Joey, but I do remember being scared of him, a little. I told you before of how I woke up in the forest and he was dead. But Cam remembered what happened. Cam and I liked to play in the woods behind our back yards. Our parents didn't mind so long as we didn't go out of range of the walkie talkies they made us carry.
Joey hated the woods-he liked to play inside, didn't like being out with the bugs and the heat and the dirt. But that day he followed us-probably to torment us about something. He caught up to us at exactly the wrong time. We went to our normal spot, where there was a small clearing we liked to play in. For whatever reason the underbrush was almost nonexistent in that part of the forest.
And there he was. Slendershit. Tall and faceless as ever. We didn't know what to do. Cam and I shied away, but Joey walked straight up to him and took his hand. There was a long moment of silence, then he came at us with a rock.
Cam doesn't know what exactly happened next. He says he darted into the hollow tree trunk behind us, and I stood there and tried to fend him off. He remembers a shout from Joey and a scream from me, then a dull thud. When he peeked out, I was clutching a big rock and Joey was on the ground with a big dent in his head. And slendershit had his tentacles out, looking furious, and I stared him down. As Cam recalls it, I stepped forward, dropped the rock, put my hands on my hips and said 'You can't have him'.
Then. 'Take me instead. I'll do whatever you want as long as Cam is safe'
I stepped forward, Slender took my hand, and I started laughing.
He vanished, I passed out, and Cam woke me up and started screaming about a man in the woods and Joey being hurt into our walkies.
Everything looked fine for a little while. They started hunting for the man who killed Joey, ruled that the two of us had undergone trauma from the incident, and life went on mostly as normal.
Until Cam caught me sneaking out into the woods. He followed. Watched me kill.
I killed fifteen people back then. He was there for eight. To talk me down and comfort me when I woke up covered in blood and scared and confused.
And then I killed my brother and my parents. When I snapped out of it, I slipped out the window to go to Cam's. Apparently we used to do that a lot-our bedroom windows faced each other. He let me in through his window and hid me in his closet, trying to talk me down.
It didn't work, they found me, and I got locked up.
Apparently, Cam visited me as often as his parents would allow, but for two years I was completely unresponsive.  I started out heavily sedated, but as time went on, they realized they didn't need to. All I did was stare. And Cam grew more and more worried. After two years, he gave in and decided to do something about it. Cut a deal with slendershit. The past four years would be wiped from my memory, and Cam would be allowed to live long enough to, as he put it 'make sure I recovered enough to make it alone'. In exchange, Cam offered himself as... a toy, basically. To be tormented and kept until I'd recovered enough, and not one moment longer.
And so it was his life. Helping me. Always there, always sacrificing any chance of a real life for himself, because he was going to die. Never saying a word about what he endured-he only rarely mentioned the torments in any detail in the journals and the couple descriptions I found were enough to give me nightmares.
While I was on the street he was frantically trying to find me-he tried to run away once, to come help me. He got caught, wasn't allowed to leave the house unsupervised for months. Never said a word.
That was always the name of the game, I've learned. He did so much for me. Never said anything, never told me what he'd sacrificed, worked so hard to make it seem easy, to make sure I never noticed anything amiss. I spent so much time staying with him, living with him, and he made sure I never even got the slightest hint of his pain. Nor did Jake, really. He knew about me, but Cam was certain that Jake never knew about the torture he went through regularly.

And then the dreams started a couple days after I got out of jail. And he knew that it was a warning-that his time was coming to an end. And he was so fucking relieved. He wanted the end so badly, the only thing that kept him alive was... well, me.
I didn't know.
And now I feel like so much scum, compared to the man who literally gave everything he had to me.

...I'll do you proud, Cam. I promise.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Rescue Time!

As I mentioned in this post, Konaa realized that something needed to be done about the 23s kids and recruited Shaun and I to help. So that's what we've been up to. Driving to Canada to brave a bigass forest of death. Sounds like something out of a comic book-maybe that's why Konaa was so hyped.

We met up with Konaa in town and took a little while to get the introductions and reunion shit over with, but none of us were really much in the mood for that. It was good to see him again, but what we were about to do kind of put a damper on things. I'll be honest, we had no plan for how to get out, we just knew we had to try. I thought there was a fair chance I was going to die there.
But, well worth it. These guys needed my help, and I wasn't going to leave them be. Not anymore.

After meeting up, we all headed for the forest. I was struck by how utterly normal the place looked. When I was a kid I used to love playing in the woods. Cam and I spent a lot of time there. Which, I guess is part of why...
Off the point..
The point is. The forest looked normal, not threatening or foreboding, and the only thing that made me uncomfortable is the fact that Canada is fucking cold.

One last kiss, then we headed in. It seemed normal from the outside, but the fuckery set in pretty fucking quick once we started onto the path. It went all dark and foreboding, and as we went on, the little noises started. Rustling in the brush, crunching of gravel. All to get us turned around and spooked.
Easy enough to ignore, after the first few times. We remembered the place is designed to fuck with us and kept going.
Next, we saw a person on the path. Just for a moment, he spooked and ran off when he saw us. Worked out fine for us, though. He led us to the right path to get to the camp-after passing through several types of hell, we made it to the area that was theirs. Sewn together tents strung up in trees made a roof, sewn together... I don't even know made a floor. It was big-way bigger than needed for eight kids, and there was too much stuff around, as well.
It was... a reminder. Of how many we had failed to save. How much these kids had already lost. More important on a practical level, it was empty. We set to searching the place, hoping that we weren't too late. Found a lot of random things about, all seeming to have their own sad stories, but no sign of life. Till Shaun found a set of dogtags.
Let me tell you, it's not the most promising start to a rescue when the first time you meet the people you're trying to save one of them has a knife to Shaun's throat. We got it sorted, though, with some introductions. The guy with the knife turned out to be Richard, the guy from the path turned out to be Lyle, Elliott and Alex were off to the side nearer to me, Suze... raged at them from a little further back, and there were three others whose names I'm sad to say I didn't get.
There was talking, a lot of calling us crazy, a lot of us acting tough and capable so they'd trust us to come with. Then... a flash of red. Red hair. Green eyes. Giant curled grin.
Next thing we know, one of the girls grabs her torso and it just... falls out. Terrible and disturbing, obviously not fixable. I grabbed the kid closest to me-Elliott, as it turns out, and Shaun, and start to run.
We're not even out of camp when Richard starts yelling at us to stay still because 'Cheshire' as they called him (Which chilled my blood for other reasons) only went after moving targets.
Cue a discussion on our four parts-four because Elliott grabbed Alex's arm-on whether to run or stand. Meanwhile, Konaa was arguing with Richard and Suze and Lyle-none of them wanted to leave. I wanted to help, but there wasn't time. If I went to intervene, we might've all died. So we started running. Just in time for slendershit to come out of the forest behind us and start wrecking things.
The four of us were running hard and fast-not least because Writer was still following us- when Elliott starts telling us we're going the wrong way. Apparently he had a vague idea of where the exit was from his time with Harper, AKA the Collector. It was while we were trying to catch our bearings that Harper found us and started telling us to get out while we still could. He was... defending us. Drawing Writer's attention, telling Elliott how to get out.
I really... as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I don't think Harper made it out alive. But there's no questioning that he saved all our lives.
Elliott led us the rest of the way out, and we found Richard there, just outside the forest, laughing and crying with relief and probably a hundred other things. Konaa... tried to go back in-but Writer wouldn't let him back in the loop, so he just wandered around for a bit before we all cut and run.

I'm glad to be fucking out of there. It was... bad. We were in there for a couple hours, and... well, it was so... still and quiet and disturbing that I'm pretty sure it kicked my imagination into overdrive.  I saw things that... are impossible. It's all mind fuckery. This shit can't actually be real, there's just no way. But tricking us into thinking it is... well, that's easily done in such an environment. I can't help but wonder if perhaps that's all it ever was. Mindfuckery.
Not to take it lightly. That shit is more terrifying than any weapon, harder to resist than a good poison. It's just...If that's what it was, then I'm honestly amazed at how well Richard and Elliott are doing. How solid they seem, in spite of the horrors they've faced.

At this point, it's a race back to Hope-I'm hoping we can get home before the proxy kill squads find us. I expect Writer has some groveling to do for letting them escape-if this... whatever it was was important enough for all of this madness, I'm guessing he's going to get some serious flak for letting it fail. I'm more worried about random goons-not because we can't take them, but because I honestly don't want Alex and Elliott's first days out of the forest to be marked by fighting. They've done enough, they deserve to rest.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Road Trip

Firstly, my apologies to anyone whose blog I drunkenly commented on the other day. I still haven't found all of them, I expect, it's been a busy day and I haven't had much of a chance to look. I assure you, I'm back to sober now-it's a brief slip, not a return to my old ways, and I made sure that others were watching Hope during my binge.
Just as they are now, actually. Shaun and I are on our way to help in the rescue of the remaining forest kids. Konaa was right, we've been ignoring this tragedy for way too long, and I'm not going to let them die without a fight. So we're driving to Canada. Hang in there, you fuckers, we'll be there soon.

In my absence, Tia and Lis are running Hope. I trust them implicitly, Hope is in excellent hands.

Other than that, I don't have much to say, I just wanted to update everyone on the current state of affairs.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Departures and Another New Arrival

After quite a lot of insanity, Michael has left for real. He's pretty much single handedly responsible for making all our lives at Hope more interesting, what with the slendercrazy, but I'm going to miss the bastard.
He's the first of the long term 'residents' to actually leave, which is a little sad. Here's hoping the fucker doesn't get himself killed out there on his own.

Opal and Alice left a couple days ago, though that hasn't made much difference as they were in lockup the entire time. Considering what happened when the RtS folks let her stay with them, I certainly wasn't going to take any chances. I must confess to breathing a sigh of relief when they left, though.

TMV is also leaving, which is another one that I'm sad to see go. He's been a good friend to me for quite a while, I'm sad to see him leave. But, he has things to do, and I'm certainly not going to get in the way of that.
Still, the house feels so much emptier, even with Lexi arriving. It would be enough to depress me, except that the fact that my life is at the point now where I have time to sit around and be sad because friends left is kind of insane, in a good way.

I'm still working on sorting through Cam's journals and such. There should hopefully be a post up on that within the week.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

I've been putting this off long enough

Some of you observant folks might remember that Cam left behind a notebook and that I've been promising to post it for a while. The wait is over, everyone. Here it is. But don't say I didn't warn you.

It's... strange. A lot of nerd references, a lot of him writing with his off hand (I guess to disguise the writing some?). And. Then, these two things.

This tells me a couple of things:

First and most obvious. He knew he was going to die. He knew how he was going to die. He chose not to fight it, to let it happen.

Second, he thought his death would 'free' me. This probably goes back to when I was a kid, during that big chunk of time I just don't remember. But... I have no idea. Why would he think that? Why would him dying ever be a good thing?
I just don't know.
I need more info. I'm looking through Cam's notes. He's got... a lot of random papers, assorted journals, looks like, from random times starting from when he was a kid and spanning to his death.
I'm going through them but... I'll admit, it's slow going. This is fucking hard. He... he was my best friend. He was all I had for most of my life, and this... I'm finding out how little I really knew him.
Because that was always just how he was. He put everyone and everything before himself. He didn't matter. The rest of the world was more important.
I was more important.
I wish I'd taken the time to try and talk to him more about him.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Lockdown Successful

The only way I can really start off this post is by saying how much I adore the outrageously fancy electronic lock system Cam bought for Hope.  Without it, the events of yesterday afternoon would've possibly ended much worse than they did.

We've had our first incident at Hope(I'm not naive enough to not expect more down the line), which was dealt with quickly and decisively. Michael, like so many of us Stalked, has a bit of a problem with going slendercrazy. So far as we can tell, he wasn't actually around, but it doesn't exactly go away. Some of you will know that firsthand.
He describes the lead up better than I could, not being in his head for it, but the long and short of it was that Shaun and I were watching a movie when Michael peeked in the door looking spooked and darted when he saw us. I was understandably concerned and when to chase him. As it turns out, Joel had chased him from when he ran away from their door. He told me what had happened, and the three of us chased Michael downstairs.
I... took a minute to lock down the gate so he couldn't get away-he clearly wasn't in his right mind and I wasn't going to just let him leave.
We found Tia and Lis there, outside. I sent Lis inside and locked down the entire place(Like I said, I /love/ this security system). Tia stayed, she's almost as good as I am in a fight. The four of us went after him. When we found him, I lured him into attacking me, Tia and Shaun subdued him, and Joel and I made sure there were no unpleasant surprises about.
Michael's pretty good with that stick of his, so there's a few bumps and bruises, but we're all okay and Michael is under pretty strict supervision.
He's back to himself, came out of it as soon as he woke up, honestly, but I'm keeping him secure for a day or two just in case.
As much as I hate to see this happen to a friend, it's nice to know that my plans and security measures are working so far. Score one for Hope!

In other news, TMV arrived Wednesday. He's settled in pretty well, it's nice to have him here. Kind of a strange reversal of the old days, when I stayed with him. Hopefully no one's getting stabbed this time.

Also. I've put it off long enough. I've been spending a lot of time looking through Cam's notebook, his papers from the old apartment... and I need to share what I've found. I think it's important. Expect pictures soon.

Monday, October 17, 2011

A Day of Peace

We have another new arrival today and I have to say, he's probably the one I've been most excited about. Shaun's here, and it's completely insane and completely wonderful. He's just looks so fucking happy to be here. I'm glad I could do this for him. He's my oldest friend among the runners, and I really honestly never expected to get to meet him. And yet. Here he is. I'm excited to have him here.

To add to the general air of excitement and good cheer, Joel's back! Not Wolf, not that weird halfway state, but Joel. Lucas has been floating on air all day and I can't honestly say I blame him. It's good to have my friend back, and at this point I know too well what it feels like when a lover goes over...
But Joel's back and smiling and they're billing and cooing again like they always used to. I swear, there's something in the air here at Hope, everyone's being all couply.

So, tonight Hope celebrates. Because apparently, sometimes things really do work out.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Just a Little Note

I've been a bit busy to update-there's a lot to do getting a place this large set up, a lot of little things that need to be taken care of-and that take a lot longer with injured ribs like this.

Lis, Tia, and Blake arrived Wednesday. It's been good to have them, and the impromptu birthday celebrations the other night were fun. I have been very glad to have a chance to spend time with Lis in person, and it's been fun getting to know Tia and Blake.
They've settled in pretty well, and I'm really glad to have them all.

Nemo last night as well, bringing with him three rather special folks. Levi, Jennifer, and Emily Johnson. Now, these three don't have a blog, but they do keep tabs on them as much as they can. Mostly, they just focus on running.
They are probably the only family of runners that I've heard of (except perhaps for the ill fated Delmonts, but they weren't running all together). These guys are smart, all three of them. When Emily started seeing slendershit, they did the standard police thing, but when it wasn't working, they did some research. Found the blogs, started reading, figured out what was going on.
They weren't going to let their daughter go. So they packed her up, piled into their minivan, and started running. That was... mid August.
They've held it together pretty well, all things considered, but they were running low on funds to pay for food and such even before the van broke down. They hid out in an abandoned house and tried to set it up to be as safe as possible and sent me a distress call-they found the post about Hope, and how I promised to get people here if I needed to, and just went for it. They didn't really have many options left.
About an hour later Nemo emailed me asking if I needed anyone brought to Hope. Seemed perfect. Worked out pretty damn well. The kid's crazy about him from what I can tell, anyway.
I'm just glad I could help them. Em's such a sweet kid, I can already tell. And Jennifer and Levi? They're just... so devoted to her, it's beautiful.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Visitors, Requests, and a Name

I have to say, I honestly didn't expect Hope to take off so quickly. That's the name I've given this place. Hope. Because that's what it is.
In any event, I didn't expect this place to get so popular so quickly. But it's looking like there's going to be twelve people here by next week. So, I'm really excited and proud of how well Cam's dream has paid off. I've got all of you, and as of today I can safely say I think we're as safe as we can be. Mystery was very helpful with some protective mojo we could try, and looking through Cam's notes, he's got some really good ideas, all of which he's incorporated into this place.
I can't promise that it'll work, there's no guarantee, but it seems likely, anyhow.

In other news, we had a visitor today. David, to be precise. I've dealt with him a couple times before. I'm never quite sure what to expect with him because he seems quite fond of me, but he is David, and he's done some terrible things to people.
But, again, he was quite friendly with me. He showed up at the gate and asked to see me, didn't object when I refused to let him inside(Polite or not, he's still a proxy).
I took him out to get dinner at this little diner not too far from Hope. We had a nice chat. I think... I dunno, I think he's fucking lonely or something. I'm not sure what he wants, otherwise. He's not making threats or trying to seduce me to the fucking darkside, just... talking.
I don't really know what it was about, but what I do know is that seeing him like this, I know why TMV was willing to go with him.

In any event,  he's long gone by now. I really just have one more thing to say. Anyone who wants to come stay at Hope needs to email me, and I'll chat with you and hopefully give you directions. For security I'd prefer not to put stuff up in comments about it-I don't want proxies tracking you here.
My email is
I hope to hear from anyone who needs me. Hope is here for those who need it.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Hope Spot

I'm writing this to all of you from Austin. I've come home. Sort of. Didn't dare go back to the old apartment. Thankfully, I didn't have to.

Before Cam died, he did a lot of things. Some of them I'll be looking into and documenting later. Some of them are all around me now. Perhaps the most ostentatious is this house. He had a house built. Seven stories, heavily fortified, completely secure against mundane threats.
He arranged to have it completely furnished and ready to go. He told the builders that the key was to go only to me. Not even to him.

So, a week ago, I got a call from the builders. The house was finished. Completely furnished, ready to go. And the needed me to do a walk through and make sure everything was in order. I wasn't about to say no. Cam... always knew what he was doing.
Obviously the hospital stay delayed me some, but today I arrived in Texas, and after meeting up with Lucas and Joel and Josh, I've settled in.

The place is amazing. It could easily fit twenty people, with everyone having their own bedroom.  We've kind of spread out, I think (Though Lucas, Joel, and Josh are on a different floor than me, so I'm not entirely sure what their rooming arrangement is)

Cam left me a letter to go with it. I'll... I'll share it with all of you.

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. It's okay, by now you should know I knew it was coming. I made sure to prepare to have you as taken care of as possible when I died. I'm not... entirely sure when during the building process I went. It doesn't really matter.
I don't know what has happened since I wrote this, what has changed, what new information has come to light. But I had this built for the three of us(two of you, now, I guess).
I want you to make this place as safe as you can, and then I want you to start taking people in. I know, I know, it's supposed to not be safe to do that. But we held out for a while, right? And you've had so much more time to pick this stuff up now. You can make it work.
Help people. You need them as much as they need you. Maybe you've learned that already. I hope you have.
It was my dream to use this house to help them, but that's not possible anymore. So do it for me. Please.
Help them-someone needs to.

So what else can I do? It was our dream, before. All of our big plans were to make this happen. It was on my mind anyway. I've been making my own arrangements. Getting things going, reading up on additional ways to keep the house safe.

Lucas, Joel, and Josh are going to help. It's good to have them here. This house would be a bit too empty if they weren't.

So, I guess this is the official announcement. I'm opening this place up. I make no guarantees about safety, though I will tell you that I am going to do everything I can think of, including borrowing ideas from people who've been doing this far longer than me.

If anyone needs a place to stay, get in touch. I can get you here and get you some solid meals, showers, a warm bed. Even just for a few days.

Here's hoping this is actually a good idea.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Death and Hospitals

Before I do anything else, I want to remember Morningstar.

Look, I know a lot of you never liked him, never trusted him. A lot of you were convinced he'd never change. Some of you were convinced that even if he did, he needed to die for his crimes.

Those people clearly never saw him like I did.

He had a big reputation, considering his knack for cartoonish violence and his... interesting eating habits. And, you know, I'm not going to bother arguing about that. Because, yeah, he was bad. He was pretty terrible. He killed a lot of people, did a lot of terrible things.

But, we've all seen the difference now. The clear distinction between Star being free and Star as a hallowed. The evidence is right there on the blog. The creativity, the personality? That was always him. The cruelty, the lack of regard for people? That was not.

So, for the record. The Star that killed people by tying them to railroad tracks or trapping them in mazes of death? That's not the man I'm mourning today.

The Star I'm mourning is the one I introduced you all to. The one who held me while I cried. The one who risked everything to get me out of a bad situation, the one who gave up everything he had to try and find a way to live as a runner.
The Star who still cried about his brother, and who never stopped hurting and doubting himself after the abuse of his parents.
The Star who loved hugs and who hated to see me hurt, and who was such a complete softie that he literally tucked me in and sat by my bedside, that last day, because he saw the pain I was in.
I loved him like the brother I lost so long ago. I just wanted to keep him safe, to give him the chance to chose for himself for the first time in his entire fucking life.
I had hoped that even if he died from this, he would die a free man.

It seems that thanks to a certain proxy in denial, this was not to be. Mitch, I can't bring myself to wish horrible tortures on you, because those are inevitable now. Know that by succumbing to this you have failed Ryuu, your family, and yourself. Know that being robbed of that kill will haunt you for the rest of your life-as short as that will be, now, even without my interference, and that I rejoice in that fact.
I will not waste my time seeking revenge, because that won't bring him back. He wouldn't want me to, and so I will respect that. But I will dance on your grave when you meet your inevitable horrible fate.

That said, I'm out of the hospital now-though that was a story that I owe it to you all to share.

Considering the events of the past few days-and my complete inability to share them with non-Stalked in a way that makes sense, the doctors have become increasingly suspicious of my mental health. After all, I've spent the past month and change at the mercy of my kidnapper/rapist, right? (And yes, that's what they think happened with Jake and I'm certainly not going to tell them the truth).
I've been doing what I can to convince them otherwise, but that's very difficult when you're terrified and grieving.
Yesterday after the news about Konaa I flipped so much shit I... may have punched a nurse that came to check on me. Not hard enough to do any damage, but hard enough to scare her.
They sedated me. Knocked me right the fuck out. After I specifically informed them on day one that I didn't care what they had to do, I would be awake for it. Refused to sign anything that gave them the right to do so.
This morning they made me go through a psych evaluation-they were trying to get me sent to the psychiatric ward for my trauma.
I passed the evaluation with flying colors, then proceeded to make a huge stink about patients rights and legality and how I had just gotten the news that my dear friend had died and it was simply purely reasonable grief that I had been suffering and how they were all assholes that I was going to sue the pants off of if they did not discharge me.
Funny, it took maaaaybe two hours after that before I was walking out the door.

So, I'm on the road again, this time with a specific destination in mind. No more mad wandering, no more letting fear get the best of me. Shaun's right. I have to live. For all of them that aren't anymore.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Holy Fuck, Please No

I'm still in the hospital. Recovering. They're talking about letting me out soon. Which is nice, and I'll be glad for that.

But. Priorities.

Mitch has Star. Mitch has Star and she's going to kill him and I'm stuck in a hospital bed unable to do anything but beg. I'm. I'm begging you for help. Anyone who can see this. Nick? TMV? She likes you, she listens to you. Please, just... anyone who might be able to get through to her, please. Say something. Talk to her. Help me help him. Please. He's gone mad but there's no saying he'll never be able to come back. Please.

He's just a kid, guys. Please help me help him.

Mitch, if you're reading this. I'm begging you, please. Don't do this.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

You were right. You were all fucking right.
He's gone.
He'sgone, he's gone, he's gone.
He took first watch.
I woke up to him screaming and flailing and running out of the room. I tried to chase him, but he got away.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Not the End

He's awake! He's him again! He doesn't remember the past week and a half but it doesn't matter because he's back to his old fucking self.

I woke up this morning just like usual. Four hours, alarm, but Star was strangely jumpy so I commented on it. I didn't expect a response, but I got one all the same. He was understandably confused, but he's awake.
Talked me into going back to bed once I let slip how little I've been sleeping. I woke up not too long ago. Just wanted to put something up quick to tell you that he is alive and well and still very much the man I know, reformed and all.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

A Visit

As much as I hesitate to do it, I am trying to stop and catch a couple hours of sleep every night. I thought I was being pretty damn secretive about my location, especially considering even I wasn't sure where I was going. I was just... going. Just driving to drive. Theoretically, no one should have been able to predict where I was going because I didn't have the slightest clue where I was going from day to day.

And yet, last night there was a knock on our door. I literally dropped my laptop in shock. When I looked through the peephole, even more shock kicked in. It was David. Ronan's David. The same David who gave me this lovely scar on my shoulder I need to find the time to get a tattoo for. The same one that killed Donovan's family and kidnapped and tortured Dia. And he just knocked pleasantly on my hotel room door. The thing that everyone mentions to the point that it gets repetitive is how normal he looks.
It's jarring. To look at this pleasant, smiling middle aged man and remember all of the terrible things he's done. Even worse when you're running on little to no sleep for a week solid and you've got basically dead weight to protect asleep in the bed, and you're wondering what the fuck he wants to do to you both.

I didn't answer. He proceeded to inform me through the door that he knew I was in there and that if I didn't let him in, he'd have to force it, and that would be unfortunate for us both. He asserted he just wanted to talk to me and would prefer to keep it that way. I've seen how he fights, I know what he can do if he so desires. So, I opened the door, knives ready, just in case.
And, strangely, he really did just want to chat.

Apparently, I left him a scar and somehow that translates to instant respect from David. I'm not sure I get it, but maybe I would if anyone I'd respected had ever left me a scar. With, I suppose the possible exception of David himself. I don't like him or what he does, but I have to respect him and his abilities.
We actually had a pretty pleasant chat, even the part where he tried to convince me to sleep with him. He took my no quite gracefully and continued the conversation.

He's seemingly picked me as someone who's approved by him to be TMV's friend. According to him, he doesn't want to leave him friendless, just remove the ones who are 'bad for him'. Ugh. I'm almost tempted to cut contact with TMV just to be contrary. I really don't like the way he said that.
Of course, I won't though, because it might be some help for TMV to know he has at least one friend who's not in immediate danger of getting tortured or murdered by David.

He left after a little while, but came back to inform me that he'd caught Jake skulking outside my room. Perhaps it was bad of me, but I let David take him. He'd apparently threatened TMV. To David's face. He was in a rage and I knew just by looking at him it'd take a fight to get him away from him. Call me crazy, but I wasn't about to risk Star's and my life for Jake. Especially after I talked David into leaving him alive and more or less intact. 'So he could defend himself when I went after him for what he'd done.'
So David's got Jake. No idea what he'll do.

In any event, I really need to get moving again. If David and Jake can find me, so can others.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Still Alive

Still running.
Stopped at a motel for a few hours last night when I hit the point where if I tried to keep driving I'd get into a wreck. We're stopped for food at the moment-we both need to eat if we want to be in good enough shape to beat this.
Star's seen some minor improvement. He'll walk on his own-he follows me around, honestly. He takes basic instructions, which makes my life a lot easier. I'm hoping this means he's honestly improving.
You all have reason to hate him, but for fuck's sake, slendershit hunted him down in the one place he thought he'd be safe and turned him into... this. Just. Empty. Blank.
Until... like eight or so last night he couldn't even move. I had to carry him.

I don't know what exactly has been done, but I do know that it must be absolute hell.
He had the option to return. But he didn't take it. He chose to stay, to deal with the consequences.
Does anyone still doubt his sincerity? Or even how deserving he is?

He's just a kid, guys. The same age my little brother would've been. Just a scared, abused kid who eight months ago hadn't done a damn thing wrong. Before he got roped into the proxies his only crime was lashing out at his captors. He was scared and alone and I just wanted to fucking help him because no one else seemed to really want to try.

And now Spence is dying and Writer's on their blog and Doc's trying to save his life running on adrenaline and  amphetamines.

I haven't been this scared since Prosper was in my apartment. I don't know what to do.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Fucking hell, run!

I know I'd promised to tell you more stories of Star. I'm sorry I've been slacking on that, things have been really tense. And now I have a story, but it's a new one. From last night.

Some, if not most of you, have read this post.  Last night, we were attacked. The air got cold and something felt wrong. I was swearing and Star was just STARING at the wall and looking nervous, and Spencer was throwing August's dishes around and fishing for guns which he apparently stores behind them?
Then he's running out the fucking door and everything slams shut somehow, though like hell I'm leaving him out there alone. I follow him out, Star flanking me. And something's horribly wrong, Spencer's on the ground and telling me to get inside and somehow he sounds both more like himself than he has for days and horribly wrong.
There was snow. How was there snow? There's never any weather at the House and anyway it wasn't cold enough for snow. Or it shouldn't have been. Valtiel.
Valtiel had been there, somehow (how did he even get in?).
He left a message. "Last Chance."
We all stared. Star seemed paler than usual, before he got sick, and then I had two men on my hands vomiting up BLACK and wasn't that just the nicest thing.
I tried to get them both back to the House, but I lost my grip on Spencer and got Star in first.
Went back for Spencer. There was a wall there. Literally. I scream and shout and beg, but he's telling me to stop being stupid, to get inside.
Like hell am I leaving him. I keep scrabbling at the wall, even as I hear his cries of pain, his desperate taunts, I'm fighting with everything I have to get out there, to help him, and nothing works.
The wall crumbles. I try not to think about what it means, instead I rush over, but I'm too late, because he's already in the kitchen with us, bloody and battered and looking... well, looking like death.
I'm rushing towards them, because of course they're right next to each other and somehow I'm on the opposite end of the room.
Then he shows up. Slendershit. Spencer, even half dead and mostly mad, has a better knack for describing than than I ever will. All I knew was rage and grief and pain, and I scream as I rush towards him, but there's no sound somehow, just this roaring, raging silence that HURTS. I lose it. I do the stupid thing. I try to stab him, to stop what he's doing to Star, looking terrified and somehow making small, scared, pained noises past the silence. There's tentacles in his head and I'm slashing, stabbing, trying to make him stop hurting my friend.
Then I'm thrown back into the wall. My vision goes white and now I can't see straight. I keep trying to rush toward them but it takes me a minute to remember how my legs work, and I probably have another concussion but that doesn't matter because he's hurting them and I have to stop it.
Then he's gone. Star is.. just there. Not unconcious, just... blank. Empty. I don't want to think about it. I'm screaming for help and Spencer is begging me to take him and run and I try to argue, but he's right.
He kisses me, once, and there's blood on his lips but I'm so far past caring about that now.
Then Todd shows up and I know he'll make sure Spencer is safe, I can't do anything he can't anyway, so I'm picking up Star and  throwing him over my shoulders and running, and driving, and driving, and fuck it's hard to drive when you can't see straight.
I hadn't stopped to breathe till an hour ago. Star still hasn't woken up. Have to keep running.
We're alive. Alive and running and I don't know what he'll do if he doesn't wake up, but no time to think about it, I need to keep running.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

The Story Continues

You've all seen the most recent issue with Jake. I'm sorry I haven't been posting much about what's actually going on, but the simple fact is that we're all just kind of waiting. We've done what we can, now we're waiting to see how well he deals with the rest. It's nervewracking, but nothing much to talk about. Instead, I want to give you another story. I mentioned already that the 'kidnapping' was actually a rescue. I mentioned also that he came in to talk to me. For obvious reasons this didn't get recorded, and it's been a while, but I'll retell it as best as I can

I wasn't honestly expecting much. Friend or no, Star was still Star, and therefore not used to having a friend. He had a job to do, and he was doing a damn good job of keeping me intact, though of course minor injuries were unavoidable and honestly I didn't mind the chance for a scrap now and again. I didn't exactly care about hurting them, and they weren't allowed to kill me or do anything that would do permanent damage. All part of the charade.
He was keeping me safe and getting me out. I couldn't ask for more than that.

I got it anyway, though.
It was Thursday morning. I'd been there for the better part of a day, and mostly they'd just left me in the room. Someone showed up at regular intervals to taunt me and leave me food, but for the most part they didn't even lay a hand on me-which had to be Star's doing. And then someone knocked

"Yeah?" I called. I probably sounded dead. I know I felt dead.

A muffled order, footsteps walking away. "Can I come in, Lainey?" He sounded gleeful. It was pretty obviously fake. I dared to hope.

I sighed dramatically. "If you must."

I heard the door unlock. He slipped inside, concern clear on his face as he locks the door. "... How are you holding up?"

"They're gone?" I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed a little. "I told Tiger to go walk Jack. This is a more difficult task than it seems..." He hesitated. "Anything you need?"

I couldn't keep my composure anymore. Didn't even bother trying. "Just. If you have a minute? Stay?"

"I shall stay as long as I can." He replied quietly, sitting down beside me.

I sag into him, grateful for the contact and comfort. "Thank you."

He seemed a little disconcerted, but hugged me. "It is what I am here for."

I nod. "You know you're the first friendly contact I've had in almost a week."

"Sad isn't it? Heh. Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"You're already risking your life to help me." I reply, gratitude bleeding into my voice.

"My job is to attack scared cornered animals. I risk my life every time I leave my bed. Seriously. Anything I can do? Anything." He sounded almost amused at my concern

"... Just don't let go, alright? For a few minutes?" My voice cracked and my eyes were distinctly watery.

"Very Well..." he hugged me tighter.

And finally, for the first time since the police arrived at my apartment, I let myself cry. Probably made him horribly uncomfortable in the process, but I just cried into his shoulder. It was such a relief to have a friend, someone whose shoulder I could cry on, there, in person, to hug me.

He's not really used to that kind of emotion, though, and before long he spoke up, to defuse the awkward, I imagine. "You know... I am trying to find Prosper." he said quietly.

"I. Any luck?"

"None thus far... I am slightly under Prosper on the totem pole, unfortunately. Hence why he can do that... Weird teleporty shit." He sounded uncomfortable, though he made a valiant attempt to try and hide it."Yeah, I figured." I sniffed and wiped at my eyes, pulling away. "Thank you."

He nodded and frowned."I am sorry I am not more help."

"You got me out of there. That's help enough. And this..." A shaky laugh. "I needed this."

"Yet it is not enough... Hmmm... I wonder. Perhaps I could convince everyone to go kill off a random Runner in town somewhere. So you are not trapped in this room for a little while." He sounded thoughtful.

I smiled faintly. "That would be nice. If you think it's doable? I don't want to put you in any more danger than I already am"

"I have been doing this whole 'stalk and kill' bit for a few months now. I can simply tell them I need a break, and that they need to learn to kill without me barking orders." He sounded firm.

I smiled faintly. "Fair enough. It would be nice to get out of the room for a little while. Thank you."

"I shall send them off as soon as I can... Meaning when Jack and Tiger get back. Idiots.... Anything else I can do? What do you usually do when you feel bad?" He looked concerned, nervous. I probably still looked and sounded pretty dead.

I laughed. A real, genuine laugh. "I usually have sex. But somehow I don't think you'd be interested in that one."

He blushed, and suddenly I remembered that he was still barely more than a kid. It's so easy to forget how young he is. "Um. Er. Right. That is. Um. Awkward."

"I'll save that for when I get out of here and meet Nick." I told him with a smile.

"Right. Good. We should probably speed that up then. For your sake." He said with a sigh of relief. I couldn't help but grin at that.

"You'll hear no objections from me." I replied. "Though it is really good to see you."

"Yes indeed... Although... I really should get you back for the ending of our last encounter." It was clear he was teasing.

I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't lay a hand on you at the wedding.""No no. We barely saw each other at the wedding. I am talking about the time I tried to kill you."

"Oh. Right." I rolled my eyes. "You crashed the wedding. We're even."

"Hardly. The wedding would have been crashed with or without me interfering."

I shrug. "Maybe so. But Nee would've failed utterly and caused no damage if it weren't for you."

"Don't be too sure. In addition, if we did not show up, others would have."

I smiled, reading between the lines. Considering the epic failure at the wedding, I'd been suspecting that he'd flubbed it on purpose. The small smile he wore seemed to confirm it. "Okay, fair enough. But I don't think now is the time for that rematch..."

"No, of course not. But considering I am spending lots of time in here, I probably should... Well..." He looked embarrased and apologetic.

I met his eyes squarely. "... Do what you need to do." I sighed

"When I am ready to leave. Not before."

I nod and smile faintly.

"... I suppose I can allow you to hit me back or something, if it makes you feel better." That right there told me how much he was willing to do for me, as if the rest of this hadn't.

A shaky laugh. "Probably be better for you if I didn't."

"Pfft. Why." He looks almost offended. I think he thought I was calling him a wimp or something.

"Makes you look good?" I offered with a weak smile

"When have I ever cared about that?" He seemed amused.

"Well, I care about that." I told him firmly. "I don't want you getting hurt or killed because you don't have quite your old success rate anymore. The little things will help."

"My success rate remains the same." He replied, face unreadable. "And bruises do not affect this rate. Understand this. Father does not give a shit. The Command and my handlers DO."

"Yeah, but they can hurt you too, right? I'd hate to see you getting hallowed again." I'm not sure if my concern showed n my face, but it probably did. Star felt the need to reassure me, anyhow.

"Pfft. Just a hallowing. Nothing I cannot handle." He said looking away briefly to hide the terror on his face.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to play tough for me. It's a scary thing."

"Doesn't make it less scary that they're trying to clear out your head though, I bet."
"Who is playing? Heh. I have been through it several times already. It is... Nothing." He sounded nervous. "It is less clearing your head then it is filling your head..."

"Eesh." I hugged him tighter. "Why do you put up with that?

"Because I have no other choice." His voice was carefully neutral

"You could leave?" I cleared my throat. This was the first time I'd really approached the subject with him directly. "I mean. What you do is your own business. But I hate to see them hurting you like this."

"They are the best chance for me to accomplish my goals." He replied firmly.

"What goals are those?" I asked, brow raised.

He looked awkward. "Um... Well. You know. I want to... stay alive?

"Because proxies live forever, right?" I sighed. "Like I said. You do what you want, but it might be smart to get out before they actually manage to find a way to make you a drone."

"And as a drone I would stay alive. Either way. I win." He smiled. "You lose because it wouldn't be you anymore." I tell him. "And why exactly is staying alive more important than your existence as a person?"

"Because it is my existence."

"I consider your existence quite important beyond that one thing, thank you. You're my friend and I want you safe and happy, dammit."

He laughed. "Safe? None of us are safe, none of us will EVER be safe. And Happiness? HA. Our joy will be brief and will disappear before the next tragedy."

"But it's better than never being happy at all." I reply firmly. "And okay, safe is kind of a joke these days. But I'd rather see us all die tomorrow free than have us lose ourselves to his mind control."

"Heh. Whatever you say."

I sigh. "Just think about it.""Maybe..."

I shrug.. "But here I am getting all sappy about people. I guess it's not any of my business

"It is fine. Ugh... So. Where will you go after Nick?" He seemed glad for the topic change

"New York. I'm meeting up with someone."

"It is still Proxy central up there... So be careful." Another concerned look from Star.

I nodded "I know. I'll be careful."

"You had better be...SO. Any clue where Jakey Boy ran off to?"

I sighed. "Not a one. Probably chased Prosper. No idea where he would've ended up."

"He is probably broken, you know." He is again carefully neutral.

"Probably." I agreed, feeling lost. "I'm just hoping this doesn't come back to bite me before I can find him."

"It will somehow, I fear..." The concern was bleeding though again.

I sighed again and sagged against him. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Well don't be afraid." He replied, a careful arm going around me. "I am here to protect and assist you. From anything short of Father himself."

I smiled at him. "Thank you. Same to you. But I'll stand with you against the tall fucker himself if it comes to it."

He gave me a long look. "I would not allow that, I am afraid."

"Like you could stop me." I reply with a smirk.

He smirked back "Oh, I could. Make no mistake."

"You could try, anyway." I told him firmly.

One pale eyebrow went up. "Is that a challenge?"

"Possibly?" I shrug. "Hopefully it won't come to that"

He sighed "With luck... But when are we... You ever that lucky?"

A long pause. "... You're right. Fuck. Doesn't change my stand."

He laughs a little. "Stubborn."

The look I gave him was all challenge."Damn straight. You say that like it's a surprise."

Another laugh "Not a surprise. Just bothersome. Ha. Why do I even bother..."

And now I was curious. "Why do you even bother what?"

"... Taking care of.... Assisting you. Yes." He looked uncomfortable.
I shrug. "I dunno. That's a good question. Why do you? Not that I'm not grateful, mind."He shrugged back, looking fiercely uncomfortable. "Right. Well then. I should go get everyone out so you can leave this damn room."

I smiled. "Thank you again."

"It is what I am here for... And..." He visibly pulled back and punched me in the face, just hard enough to leave a bruise.

I swore but took it. Better a punch now than us both getting killed later.

"... And there we go. Feel free to hit back." He flashed me an apologetic look.

I pretended to think about it for a moment."Nah. But I wouldn't say no to getting a chance to go after Recluse... Creepy bitch."

He laughs. "I can send her in later, if you want to have a shot at her."

"I think I would enjoy that." I replied.

"Heh. You say that now. I can only stop her from killing you, not beating the ever loving shit out of you. Just a fair warning." More concern.

I shrugged it off and flashed him a cocky smile. "A knock down drag out fight sounds good. Get out some of this emotional bullshit."

He gave me a long look, then nodded. "As long as you don't mind to be on the receiving end of the asskicking... I shall send her in later tonight."

"Wonderful." I replied.

"Heh. Should be funny to watch." He headed for the door, but stopped just in front of it "... Stay strong Elaine. This will be over soon."

I nodded. "Thank you."

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Not Quite So Incompetant

Got an email from Jake just a few minutes ago.


Before I left Austin to go looking for you I paid a visit to someone you might remember. Reggie, your old boss? The one you liked? I'd planned on saving these and sending them to you with pictures of the rest of your little friends, but I figure it's best I send these on to give you a taste.


Attached were several pictures of Reggie and his boyfriend. Dead.

Neither of them would've had any clue where I was. That was for no other reason than to throw me.

What the fuck, Jake? I didn't think you were that much of a sick fuck. You'll pay for that. They deserved better.

I'm in shock

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Foolishness, Loss, and Another Log

First. It seems I've made an ass of myself on the RtS blog. The comments. I let Steele get to me. Which was a mistake. As I said in my last comment, it was my mistake for letting grief get to me. And I would like to perhaps once again apologize. For being a twat. Even though I was right, I should've been nicer about it. And not started trying to start a fight.

Grief. For those of you who don't know. Emma(Shrodinger) died. She and I were close, considering we travelled together for a month. She was one of the three kindest, sweetest people I have ever met. The love she had for all of us was incredible. Hell, even the Messenger liked her.
I wish I had something eloquent and beautiful to say. She was so poetic, she deserves better than my fumbling prose. But she was a dear friend and I will miss her more than I can possibly say.

In other news, another chat log. Because as much as I want to sit around and mourn, I promised you all I would show you what I see. So I continue with the conversation we had when he decided to come rescue me.

[7/26/2011 1:58:48 AM] Morningstar: Getting drunk AGAIN?
[7/26/2011 1:59:33 AM] Elaine: I'm in a cage. Out there? A bedroom and a bathroom. That's all I have for the next week. Not to mention... Well, you know.
[7/26/2011 2:00:19 AM] Elaine: In any case, I DO NOT LIKE cages.
[7/26/2011 2:00:23 AM] Morningstar: Do you want OUT of the Cage?
[7/26/2011 2:00:49 AM] Elaine: Um. Yes? But there's not much I can do that wouldn't make me a fucking fugitive.
[7/26/2011 2:01:08 AM] Morningstar: Do you want me to come GET you out of the Cage?
[7/26/2011 2:01:36 AM] Elaine: Ah-can you do that? Without getting into trouble for not murdering me?"
[7/26/2011 2:01:54 AM] Morningstar: Yes. Easily. I can say I am trying to bait Sage.
[7/26/2011 2:02:39 AM] Elaine: Thank you.
[7/26/2011 2:02:48 AM] Elaine: So, why exactly are you willing to risk your ass to do this?
[7/26/2011 2:03:00 AM] Morningstar:  I dislike seeing you like this.
[7/26/2011 2:05:11 AM] Morningstar: So anyway. Elaine. Do you want me to "rescue" you or not?
[7/26/2011 2:05:22 AM] Elaine: Yes. If you can. That would be wonderful.
[7/26/2011 2:06:56 AM] Morningstar: I'll even give you a ride in the Killdozer Lainey. How does that sound?
[7/26/2011 2:07:13 AM] Elaine: Sounds fun.
[7/26/2011 2:07:45 AM] Elaine: The only problem is, I have no idea where the fuck I am. Austin's a big place, and we might've gone somewhere else entirely.
[7/26/2011 2:08:24 AM] Morningstar: We have Resources. It is a matter of using them effectively.
[7/26/2011 2:09:37 AM] Elaine: Like what...
[7/26/2011 2:10:45 AM] Morningstar: Hmmm... I wonder if... MY GOD. I KNOW HOW TO FIND YOU LAINEY.
[7/26/2011 2:10:58 AM] Elaine: Wait. You do?
[7/26/2011 2:11:05 AM] Morningstar: Yes, I DO.
[7/26/2011 2:11:10 AM] Morningstar: It will take some time though.
[7/26/2011 2:11:19 AM] Elaine: How's that, then? Like I said, I don't even know where I am.
[7/26/2011 2:11:28 AM] Morningstar: Trust Me.
[7/26/2011 2:11:46 AM] Elaine: What, did you stick a tracking device on me at the wedding or when you jumped me?

[7/26/2011 2:12:05 AM] Elaine: I... thanks. And... Um. Make it look like you're taking me hostage or something? Otherwise I might get arrested later.
[7/26/2011 2:12:20 AM] Morningstar: Well OBVIOUSLY. My Slender-Tracker. That I got from the Slendermobile inside my Slendercave. No. Not a tracking device.
[7/26/2011 2:12:42 AM] Morningstar: Of course you will be my hostage.
[7/26/2011 2:12:47 AM] Elaine: Heh, that would be pretty sweet
[7/26/2011 2:12:51 AM] Morningstar: We Do actually have a Slendercave.
[7/26/2011 2:13:03 AM] Morningstar: Several.
[7/26/2011 2:13:08 AM] Elaine: Um.  What.
[7/26/2011 2:13:46 AM] Morningstar: Of course. We are well funded and have lots of Flamboyant Rich Maniacs
[7/26/2011 2:14:16 AM] Elaine: Fair enough
[7/26/2011 2:14:25 AM] Elaine: You mean like that Rhodes douchecanoe?
[7/26/2011 2:14:37 AM] Morningstar: Sort of. Most are more competent.
[7/26/2011 2:14:51 AM] Elaine: Ooooh, fair enough.