Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Messenger's Report

I’m here to report the death of Elaine Logan, born Melanie Elizabeth Brown.   Died early the morning of April 14th.

She and the runner known as Elliot went after an agent called Angmar, who had kidnapped a young girl called Emily and was staying with her in an abandoned warehouse.  Elliot managed to escape with Emily (both relatively unharmed), though the warehouse exploded with Elaine and Angmar inside.  We have identified both bodies—or the remnants thereof (Elaine’s tattoos made her remains easier to identify).  Cause of death seems to be an explosion.  Those investigating say that there appear to have been multiple smaller explosions as opposed to one giant one.  While it’s uncomfirmed, they also say that the source appears to be amateur-made explosives.

So ends Elaine’s chapter in this story.  She was some pretty well-known figurehead to a lot of people or some shit like that.  I dunno.  A lot of people respected her or something, so I guess a lot of people are upset she’s gone.  She did preemptively leave some final words, so there’s that.  Another story given closure.  Another one bites the dust.

Blog’s over, people.  Nothing to see here.  Move along.

-Don’t Shoot The Messenger-

Saturday, April 14, 2012


If you're reading this, I'm dead. That's not a surprise, I knew going in that the odds were high Angmar would make sure I went down. Hopefully, I've gone down with him. I don't mind. As much as I wanted to keep going for all of you, I... it'll be nice to finally get my rest.
So, don't be too heartbroken, I've been waiting a long time for this. Just. Remember me, and try to give everyone a fair shot. Because fuck knows I'd never have gotten this far without one, and I've tried to give everyone that same shot.

I apologize for how short all of these are. I'm not as eloquent as Cam was, and I suck at talking about feelings, you lot should know that already.

Elliott. Thanks for helping me out when I needed it. I never would've gotten through those first couple months without you there. Tell Em I love her and I'm sorry to leave her behind.

Spencer. I dunno if there's anything still there. I don't think there is, but just in case. I love you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you stay you. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you when I did. And I forgive you.

Shaun. I love you. I'm so sorry. Thank you for everything.

Lis. Hang in there. I'm so sorry to leave you. Remember how wonderful you are, because I always do.

Ronan. Thank you so much for everything. You've been a dear friend to me. I hope things go well for you. Try and make sure David doesn't close himself off for this?

David. Whatever happened, I'm sorry to let you down. You're the closest thing I have to a father, and you helped me so much.

Ember.  You're brilliant and stubborn and wonderful. I hope you find what you're looking for.

Nick. You're a damn grudge holding fool, and I still fucking adore you. Please be careful. And thank you for coming to help me, before. Don't get your ass killed.

Hylo. Never lose your hope, alright? You're wonderful. Be careful, and I'm sorry about the Jake thing.

M. I know you don't read my blog, but take care of Shaun or I'll come back as a ghost and haunt your ass, alright?

Konaa. You're a crazy motherfucker. Keep doing your thing, you're amazing. Don't forget to give yourself time to be human. Go spend some time with Hylo, I know you'll need it.

Bondie. You're sweet. Watch M's ass, and don't get killed. And maybe talk to him about that thing we talked about. Life's too short and all.

Benjamin. Thank you for hosting us, and for always being so good to Emily. With any luck, Elliott has gotten her safely to you by now. I know you'll treat her well. Just. Make sure she knows how much I love her?

Fracture. Thanks for the emails, you've kept me company through some of the worst time in my life. Don't let Swan get you down.

Jeremy. Don't give up.

Everyone I had to take off of this list... well, I hope I see you again in whatever comes after.

Goodbyes are always so awkward.

Where do I begin?

I feel like I’ve become the bearer of bad news or something. My five or six posts here have been nothing but dealing with whatever it was Elaine currently couldn’t, and I guess now she really isn’t able to cover my ass.

That’s right. She’s dead.

Went down in a blaze of fucking glory, though, so good on her. Know what they say about mother bears and their cubs? Yeah, that’s a pretty solid analogy for what just went down. Think she might’ve  managed to get one of the guy’s balls at some point, and judging by the way he screamed I’m guessing Elaine brought more than just her favourite hunting knife with her.

Actually, I guess I’m not being entirely honest. This all went down earlier today, and after finally managing to (sort of) console Em and pass her off– hell, I’m not exactly taking this well myself – I'm off again.

Why post now, then? Well, I’d be damned if I could have managed a post that wasn’t shit, Elaine’s dead, Em’s safe, we’re in some unspecified location I’m not going to mention for fear of that crazy bastard Angmar destroying the warehouse he was holding Em hostage in followed by a few ramblings about I’m not a father what the fuck am I supposed to do with a kid.

Well, at least one of those issues has been sorted out: Em’s off to live with Ben. A permanent home’ll be good for her. Safe.  Safer than she’d be with me, anyway, which isn’t too difficult to achieve.

As for me, blogging isn’t really my thing. There’s something about loudly announcing my plans, feelings and actions for the world to see that I don’t find appealing or particularly smart.

Maybe that’s just me, though.

Anybody who I want to contact me has my details, and everybody else… well, you people'll find a way, I'm sure.

Elaine, though I got my goodbyes out of the way before we went into the warehouse, I’ll state it again: thank you for everything.

She’s got one more post she wants me to put up. Emily’s already in more responsible hands than mine and, well, I’m off to do my own thing.

As for the research? Rich and I are still getting things together. Figure we’ll post it on the original blog. We’ll see. At any rate, neither of us’ll be around the blogosphere anymore.

I guess that’s the end of that. Best of luck. God knows we all need it.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

A Lead

Only a few more days till the deadline, and we finally have a lead. Expect radio silence for the most part, there's a lot to be done now.
Hang in there, Em, we're on our way.

Friday, April 6, 2012


I really want to know how the crap people keep finding me! I'm not exactly light on the stealth. Though I guess these days all she'd need to do would be follow those police reports I mentioned...

In any case, I got a present today. Out in the middle of the street, in the middle of town. Ryuu found me. As I mention, I've no idea how. But she did. I didn't even recognize her until she was walking away-there is video of her on the blog, but it's been a while and I wasn't expecting her, of all people. Not after all the fighting between Mitch and I.
I suppose that's why she did show up, though. Walked right up to us in a parking lot, clutching Mitch's washer necklace. I whirled, shifting to get ready for a fight, but all she did was shift it in her hand to grab it by a specific one.
"You were wrong. On all counts." She told me quietly, handing me the necklace. I took it, noticing the dried blood remaining on the thing. When I looked up to ask what the fuck was going on, she shook her head. "I'm so sorry."
Ryuu then bolted, leaving me to shout. "I'm sorry too!" back after her.

After a lot of thought, I've put it on.  I can't do the same for my own kills, it would require a much longer chain and be heavy enough to probably cause issues. But it feels... right. Respectful, somehow. I mean. I hated Mitch for what she did to Star. For how she attacked me, even when I was trying to make some sort of peace. But probably most...
Mostly because her situation terrified me because I've never really been more than one bad day from where she is. All it would take would be one misstep, letting him have even the slightest foothold in my mind. And then I'd be stuck, just like Michelle.
We had so much in common. In our fight for independence, we lost so many people we cared about. I was always so scared of looking in the mirror to see what peered back at me. I fight so hard, I have been this whole time. To not just survive, just barely keeping out of slender's grasp, but to /live/. To regain what he's stolen, as Cam helped me to do, and reclaim my feelings, my personality, and to regain the ability to function like a real person.
But he calls. And he'll never, ever stop, and eventually he'll find a way in. And then it's only a matter of time. Watching Mitch and Spencer go down...
I can't deny that anymore.

I've arranged to give custody of Emily to a friend. Someone she already knows and adores. It's not safe for her to be with me, I was stupid to ever think otherwise.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Sword guy wants me to tell you that he thinks it's funny that you fell into his trap. And that you only have two weeks. And a lot of other mean things that I think are just for me
Please find me, it's scary here and I keep going all funny and it's scary without you. I got one yesterday where I thought I was being run over by a bunch of horses. And my chest really hurt! I think I passed out again I dunno.

A Trap

We're still on Angmar's trail. He's surprisingly clever about keeping under the radar-we don't know he's been to a place until afterward, when we find the police reports of break-ins in abandoned houses or warehouses, sometimes stores...  And it's easy to tell when it's them-his habit of painting everything possible in a dizzying array of colors in at least one room... well, it's distinctive.
Em's color blind. Completely color blind. Well, with a kid as bright as her I guess it was inevitable for her to lose something else along the way. So the colors... if you paint the room all green, for example, it all looks the same, to her. Hard to see /anything/. It's just all gray. As she mentioned. Didn't take us long to figure that one out. What's perhaps cruel is the way he used lots of different colors to paint designs to confuse and disorient her.
I'm guessing he still has connections with other proxies, someone had to do all this painting and I doubt it was him.

Elliott and I... we've been watching his movements, tracking them, trying to figure out what his pattern is so that we can do more than just follow him-that won't do us any good as far as helping her. No luck so far. Starting to think he's just moving at random.
We've started checking out the places he kept her, looking for any clues at all.

But apparently that's what he was expecting. The police had already been in and out of this warehouse, we weren't expecting any surprises-if there was a trap, the cops would've already set it off.
That's what we /thought/, anyway
We thought wrong. Well, he was one of Star's.
When we were in the latest place, I opened the door to the closet he'd kept Em in(painted up in hellish patterns of red, floor to ceiling), and was greeted by a very large mallet swinging down from the ceiling and nailing me square in the chest. I went flying back into the wall, presumably smacking my head again as I was out for almost an hour-Elliott was in the process of calling in help when I woke up.

I'm fine now, for the record. My new freaky gifts seem to be taking pretty good care of me. Normally I'd be bothered, but right now I'm just glad to be able to keep going.

Friday, March 30, 2012

I've got something of a debt to repay.

And I'm not about to let this one slip.

Angmar, you crazy fuck, who do you think you are?

Yeah, long time no see. Been with Elaine for a couple days but had no reason to post - busy with rescuing a kid.

I'm no father. Even as big brother standards go I'm pretty fucking pathetic.

But this?

This is ridiculous. Met Elaine a while ago and believe me when I say the rage hasn't subsided. It's started to get me roiled up too. Got a nice little revolver courtesy of Battle and a single bullet to put between your eyes, Angmar. And I'm going to take so much pleasure in watching your head explode like the Christmas cracker from hell.

Or maybe I'll just aim for the gut and have a cup of coffee while I watch you bleed like a stuck pig.

Whatever suits my mood, I guess.

Can't say much about where we are or how much progress we're making - just that we're making it.

And trust me, we will get her back.

Even if it means losing one of us.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


Yeah, I found that post. Took me a while, I wasn't expecting clues on my own blog,  but comments in my email for a post I didn't write are something you notice after a few hours of frantically searching for a lead.

Angmar, you are the scum of the fucking earth. I've been playing nice this whole time. Holding back, trying to be good and moral and respect people and their right to live and not be in pain, etc. Fucked up a couple times, but I've made exactly three kills since I started being stalked. All of them were the ones who got between me and Morningstar.

Do you really think I'll do any less for the man who's stolen and terrorized my little girl? Keep in mind, dear swordsman, that she's still having flashbacks. If they go badly for her it could leave her fucked up for life. If that happens, you won't have a life anymore. Understand? I don't care if you have to get her a fucking puppy, she is to be safe and happy and unharmed when I find you.

But of course someone who'll stoop as low as kidnapping a child in such a vulnerable state doesn't give a rat's ass. When I find  you, you'll wish your boss had taken you out or that you'd been taken down with your teammates. When I find you you'll wish I was merciful enough to just let you die.

I've fought so hard to not snap like Spence and Rachael... But this cannot be allowed to stand. You will pay for what you've done to her.

She called me 'Mama Elaine'... she's never done that before. Except by accident, and she always corrects herself. She's my little girl and you've fucked with the wrong mother you sick son of a bitch.


I went to sleep with Emily right next to me in the bed, poised to wake up in the event of nightmares or mishaps during the night. Same as always. I wake up more than twelve hours later with no Emily, no note, no sign of anything. She's just... gone.

I haven't slept more than three hours at a time in years. I have the terrible feeling I was drugged-or possibly subject to more of slendershit's delightful little mind games. I have to figure out what the crap is going on.


Uh Elaine? I know you said not to touch the blog but the man with the sword says he'll hurt me if I don't.
His sword is big and sharp and scary and I think he's crazy he's still talking about all that wierd stuff like he was when he came with the pizza. And we're somewhere different and it's dark and he tied me to the chair. I just woke up here, I don't know what happened.
He says three weeks. Um three weeks to find us or else he's gonna oh. I have to type it? That's mean. Or else hes gonna um kill me. Please don't kill me sword man, mama Elaine will find us.
I'm scared. Please help me it's dark and grey and creepy and the rope hurts.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Too Fucking Quiet

Exactly what the title says. Other than the incident with Lori, it's been quiet. Peaceful. No hint of Angmar, no more interference from slendershit, though of course he continues to lurk outside the window constantly. It loses some of it's teeth when he's done that constantly for months, though. What he does to me otherwise... well, that hardly matters so much as making sure Em is safe.

Her burn has healed up nicely, though of course she's scarring up. Those burns always do. And she's recovering from the LSD-she's had one flashback, but we dealt with it, and it was when the two of us were in the car together, so we didn't have to deal with other people asking questions.
That's something that's terrified me ever since I heard the story of Lily.

But for now, just... quiet. Peaceful. It's been good for both of us, but I can't help but be nervous about when it ends.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Expanded Version

Em's finally calming down, and we're at the doctor's right now, so I have some time while he looks her over to type this from my phone while I linger in case I'm needed/wanted.

Late last night, after I'd put Emily to bed, I heard someone outside our hotel room. After checking to make sure Em was secure, I went to investigate and found... something rather surprising. Lori was outside, wearing a mask made out of bones and with another long bone in a holster on her hip

She wouldn't respond to me, just pulled two lollipops wrapped in paper. One had my name, one had Em's.
On the reverse side of the paper were notes. Both of ours were friendly and sweet, though obviously rambly and crazy. Her handwriting was gone-sketchy and changing in ten different places, and messier than Em's.

I tried to talk to her some, and we managed to have a vague sort of conversation via charades. As it turns out, she can't talk, because of some kind of head injury. She's definitely working for slendershit (When I asked, she just flashed me this insanely pleased smile). And when I asked if she'd dosed the candy she just flashed me a heart.

So when she left I checked to make sure Em was still asleep, stashed the candy in my suitcase and went to rinse my face and try to calm the fuck down. When I came /out/ of the bathroom, I find Emily awake and eating my lollipop. I took it away, but the damage was done. She spent most of the past day freaking the fuck out.

The doctor says that it shouldn't have any particularly awful side effects-at least, no more so than it could potentially for anyone else. Apparently it's no more toxic to children, just far more difficult to manage. I got lucky that she came out of it at all. With the shit that she's seen... the potential for a bad trip was phenomenally high. I think I kept her out of the worst of it.

Now comes the wait to see if she starts having flashbacks.

Quick Update

No time to talk. LSD is not good for six year olds. Lori's not dead, she's drugging candy, and as it turns out it's nearly impossible to keep candy from a genius level six year old.

I'll post more when I can.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Never Watching That Again

So, yesterday TMV and David got married, as a lot of you saw. I'd intended to stick with them for a few more days, enjoy their company, spend some time with David. Unfortunately, that's all out the window now. On the bright side, I know who my stalker is.

So, story time, I guess. Though I certainly don't have the fucking perfect memory (or tape recorder) of some of you fucks, so I'll be summarizing the dialogue except for the important bits that I do remember.
Derek, Em, and I were settling down to watch a movie. Princess and the Frog, actually, it's Emily's favorite.  And we're being lazy fucks, so we order in for pizza because that's an easy thing to do when you're sitting on your ass all night.
But it's not the pizza guy who shows up. It's Angmar. Fucking Angmar, of all the damn... well, of course, now it all makes sense. I knew that Star had left him behind to watch me, he announced it on the blog. I'd forgotten about him after, since we never heard from him and honestly considering we were friends I'd kind of figured Star would reassign him or something.
As it turns out, Star gave him the orders to not harm me (he 'wanted me for himself'), but left him to keep an eye on me. It's almost sweet, he was trying to make sure I was alright, I guess. But when Star defected... Well, Angmar wasn't too pleased. Decided it was his job to kill me and bring his boss back to the fold.
He told me all of this at the top of his lungs, gesturing with that fucking sword of his and acting like he was in fucking Lord of the Rings or something. Talking about honor and sacred duty and  'Stand forth and defend yourself'. All that bullshit.
Because other than pushing Derek aside to get in the door, he refused to touch any of us until I agreed to fight him in 'a duel'. And he spent enough time trying to get Derek to just stand the fuck aside so he didn't have to hit him that I could hide Emily before Angmar could see her.
Fucker thinks he's a knight or some shit.
So, remembering last time, where he was retardedly bad, I agreed to fight him.  As it turns out, he's been practicing. Good for him, he needed it. And at this point, he's not half bad with that sword. Got in a good swipe on me, anyway. Though  he wouldn't have lasted too much longer, he still needs a lot of practice before a great honking sword like that can stand up to me. I get inside his guard and he doesn't know how to stop me.
But then we had a visit from slendershit. And honestly, even Angmar froze in his fucking tracks when the lights started flickering and the movie spazzed out and froze on the image of a fucking operator symbol on the wall. (Which, yeah, that's a thing in the movie, I checked. Pause it at 19 seconds-you may have to crank up the resolution. Someone at Disney is a real cunt)
And then he showed up in the middle of the room. Just for a couple moments, then he was gone. So I yell at Derek to go check on Emily, terrified that slendershit fucking took her, and try to get Angmar to get lost.
Unfortunately, running away is not knightly or something. He insisted on holding his ground. Derek came out with Em-we figured it'd be better to stick close.
And then slender showed back up and all hell really broke loose. Angmar started eyeing Em, looking like he wanted to make a break for her to impress his master. Emily starts trying her damndest to get out of Derek's grip, yelling about how she wants to see her parents again. I'm trying to fight Angmar to keep him distracted, and all the while slender's yelling at me to stand down and kneel.
Em lands a lucky shot with her squirming-judging by the noise Derek made she got a nut shot- and darts straight for slender.
He picks her up, wraps a tentacle around her, picks her up, and just stares. The sudden silence is enough to make my blood run cold. I lunge for Em, Angmar lunges for me, and Derek dives at him and takes him down. I lost track of what happened with Angmar and Derek because I'm yelling and screaming and tugging, trying anything I can think of to try to get Emily back.
And then I decide to try something that ended badly last time. I sliced his fucking tentacle off. Emily falls, he bitchslaps me across the room /again/, and...
Then I woke up a few minutes later with Derek peering at me in obvious concern. Another concussion, I'd passed the fuck out. He lets me know that Angmar ran off and Emily's still here, she's gonna be fine, and he helps me totter over to talk to her.
As it turns out, that tentacle that was wrapped so snugly around her left a niiice burn. Wrapped all the way around her chest. She's, quite understandably, in a fair bit of pain, but there's not much more I can do that Derek hasn't yet-he got her set up with ice, and had her distracted eating some chips, since we couldn't exactly trust the pizza Angmar brought.
I needed to talk to her before we could do anything else. She'd just tried to willingly give herself up to slender.
Luckily, I have a very smart girl. She knew exactly what I wanted to talk about.

"I'm sorry. I just thought... The Man says that if I go with him, everything will be good again and I can see everyone and people will stop dying. And. What if that's true? You worked with him. And David. And Rachael. And Joel. What if he's telling the truth and all the bad stuff goes away when you go with him?"

Cue my heart fucking breaking. I'd tried to shelter her from the stories of terrible things that happen when you work for him, tried to shield her from all the terrible stories. But she'd seen a lot(and David can't keep his mouth shut around her). She knew suffering. And her six year old mind saw a strong, comforting authority figure who promised to take it away. Because he can be comforting, most of you know this. If he wants you, if he's trying to charm you to him, he makes everything in the world that hurts just... float away.

"No, Em. He's lying. He hurts you worse if you're his. That's what happened to all of us. That's why we stopped." I tactically avoided the subject of David, I didn't want to confuse her. "I know it's tempting, but all he does is hurt people."

"I just don't want anyone else to die." Emily starts crying quietly.

Derek pipes up then. "Well, we don't want you to die either."

After that, I put her in the shower with the water running cold to help with the burns and sat down to talk to Derek until I could walk in a straight line again.

A few things were very clear to me then.

Firstly, I'm definitely healing way faster than I used to, I didn't even have a fucking headache by the time we went to bed that night.

Most importantly... I've let Emily down in a big way. I let my own pain and grief distract me. I was selfish, and did what was best for me, not for her. Running around to see my friends, trying to hide from the reality of our situation and of my own guilt. I've tried hard to stay busy, distracted, so that I didn't have to face the world.

No more. Emily deserves better.  From now on she is my only focus. Everything I do will be what is best for /her/, and I will dedicate my time to being there for her.

And so, first thing this morning, the two of us left Derek, TMV, and David, and set off on our own way. I've done what I can, I still have some of the supplies Lori gave me back in Austin, so I can treat the burn. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012


I didn't want to believe it. I refused to believe it, wrote my post yesterday completely convinced that it was a cruel trick. But it's not.

August St.Claire is dead.

Fuck, saying it like that... I can't hardly stand to look at it. But it's the truth, and he wouldn't have wanted us to hide from it. He was the best of us, a beacon of love and hope in the midst of all the tragedy of the Stalked. A lost, broken boy, who decided to make meaning for himself out of helping the rest of us.
And just like Emma and Cam before him, a monster laid him low to try to destroy us.

Steele has already made the threats I want to make. I'm sure he and the rest of them will be able to say better, more beautiful things in memory of this man that took such good care of us all. Eulogies will be made, a lot of tears will be shed, because the world has lost some of it's goodness without August around to mother us all.

But August... he knew what I was long before the rest of you. He made friends with Cam and wore a dress to his wedding to make us smile. Fought in it too, to defend people he'd never even met before.
He drove halfway across the country on a moment's fucking notice to try and rescue me, a woman he'd only met once and barely talked to.
He took all my late night phonecalls, when I was drunk and crying or angry or whatever other reason. He talked me down and gentled me and told me that I was a good fucking woman and that I really could make Cam proud.
He somehow found my fucking birthday and made me a goddamn feast to celebrate, without being asked, just to try and make me smile.
He held me while I cried, more times than I can count.
He let me use his fucking bedroom when I was scared and lonely and Spencer was... not himself.
He cheered me on while I fought for Star, and when I attempted the impossible task of setting up a safehouse.
He talked me down when I was piss drunk and scared
He came down to help settle in Richard, Elliott, and Alex, because after what they'd been through they needed all the gentle they could get.
He was the one I called when Hope was falling down around my ears and I didn't know what to do.
He was the one I turned to when I got back to the House and I was too far gone to even register anything but loss.
He was the one that mothered Emily when I couldn't fucking do it, and she was hurting as badly as I was
He made no complaint, merely held me and apologized when I tried to kill myself.
He was the one that always made time for me if it was physically possible, no matter what.
And in the end, I didn't realize how much I'd come to rely on him until I was talking to Lori on the phone because I couldn't believe he was gone until I'd heard it from her.

He will be missed. And Writer, you're fucking retarded if you think this will go unpunished.

Monday, March 5, 2012

And The Caravan Leaves

The four of us left Benjamin's house again today, which inspired a surprising amount of tears from Em. She's gotten really attached to him. I guess it hadn't really registered how much time she was spending with him until she started tearfully asking why we couldn't stay.
It hadn't really occurred to me, but his place is the closest to a home she's had in a while, not to mention how close she got with Benjamin....
Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Ronan, Derek, Em and I are travelling together still. I figure it's best for Em to have a little more time with these two, she's not handling separations well at the moment, not since Elliott left. It's a little sad, you can almost forget how young she is, considering how smart she is. Until she starts crying and throwing fits because she doesn't want to leave because what if something happens while we're gone?

Heh, she takes after me.

Anyway, we're on the road again. Kinda wish I still had someone to split the driving with, but we get on.
I'll check back in when I next have something to report.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Going in Circles

But at least Em's happy. She's been off-kilter since Elliott left, can't say I really blame her, the two of us are the only stability the poor thing's had since things went south. I mean, she copes, she's just moodier than usual and tries to distract herself with more and more awkward questions - she's on a kick about asking about sex, specifically how two men work together since fuck knows she's gotten plenty of interaction with gay men. I wasn't even aware she knew the mechanics of straight sex, and I'm not at all fucking sure I should be telling her any of this-but I have a suspicion she's been sneaking around on the internet, so I'd rather she not try to google it or something.

In any event, being here and being able to pester Benjamin again has put her in pretty good spirits again. And being in extended good company with Derek and TMV (and Benjamin, for that matter), has put me in enough of a mindset to put this up.

The fact is, I've been hiding something from you lot. Nothing big or serious, just. I don't like talking about shit, you lot should fucking know that by now. But maybe if I get this out there, someone'll be able to shed some light on it.

It's really two things. Firstly, ever since... ever since we left Austin, slendershit's been everywhere. I don't just mean like he shows up once or twice a night. I mean he'll follow us around for hours. Just starin, never makes a fucking move. I think he's singing to Elliott, I've heard him grumbling about the music, but for me, it's a lot of talk.
Well, talk's the wrong fuckin  word. Like everyone else who's talked to him can tell you, it's more he's there, and you get these thoughts in your head that ain't yours and you don't know how they fucking got there, but you know they're what he wants you to know.
Ain't no big surprise, considering I'm basically a double renegade proxy, but he just wants me back. Says I'm his, says I'll regret it if I keep fighting.
I spit in his nonexistent face and close the fucking curtains. He's never getting me again.

But that brings us to part two of my little dilemma. Most of you have probably figured out I'm drinking again. Don't worry, I keep it well away from Emily-if I can't reasonably take care of her and keep her from seeing me drinking, I just don't. Needless to say I haven't really been able to get much in since Elliott left.
What's strange is that I've found that I have to drink twice as much to get to the same level. I'm not exaggerating, nor am I failing to account for a building tolerance. The last time I'd drank, that one day right before I went to the forest, it took me slightly less than the amount I was used to from before Star got me to quit.
The first time I drank again after Austin, it took almost double. And my tolerance is growing at a freakish level.
And then there's the matter of something Doc told me when I asked her about the booze thing. Apparently, I should've already bled the fuck out by the time she got to me when I tried to off myself like a dumbass.

Now, the drinking could be a fluke-I'm in far better shape now than I was, after all, and fuck knows I'm a stubborn damn bitch.

But it's enough to make a girl worry all the same.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Despite What Spence Thinks

It's time to pay my respects to a good woman. Rachael is dead. She was a damn good friend to me, took me in right after Cam died, helped try to save Shrody when I couldn't. She helped gentle Joel when he was a Wolf, and she stepped in and took a very sad, lonely little girl who'd forgotten how to be a child to Disney World.

It's a little hard to imagine, a woman as full of life and determination as she was when I last saw her, gone. She was fighting so hard for her own salvation, trying to earn the right to the peace she wanted more than anything. Unlike some of us, she wasn't an engrained fighter-she fought out of desperation, something that went so very against the nature of the poor gentle woman I was honestly amazed she did so well.
She was a softhearted woman who once chose to slice into her own flesh over and over to avoid doing harm to a runner, when the urges got too strong.
And now she's dead. By the hands of the very man she'd risked everything to protect. I hope she's found some peace.

In other news. Elliott's gone off to visit Richard again, said not to expect him back for a while, so it's just Em and I. And a new companion, at least temporarily. A couple more notes, nothing particularly interesting, they've just been on the windshield of my car. Either my stalker has run out of ideas or they're plotting something big.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Another Friend I'll Probably Never Hear the End Of

So, with his encouragement, and out of a desire to stay honest with you lot, I'm going to just flat out say it. The Daniel I went to see has been given another name by "Joseph"- Moriarty

For obvious reasons, I wasn't even really allowed to know much of anything, and a lot of what I do know about his organization I don't agree with, but the two of us have gotten friendly and he wanted to make his pitch in person.

Upon making sure that Elliott and Em would be as safe as they could be, the three of us met him at one of his (apparently numerous) headquarters-a unassuming mid-sized skyscraper in a mid-sized city. We had a lot of fun, whatever I think of his practices, and I consider him a good man, if exceptionally misguided.
Again, not that I at all agree with his practices-as much as part of me wanted to see Fakestar taken out, I certainly don't support fucking killsquads.

He asked me to talk about his agenda, I think he's worried about what he's going to be taken as, considering his reputation with the killsquads and all. I'm not going to be a vehicle for his shit, but I will tell you that if you are a runner and he does offer you something, he's serious, and he definitely doesn't want to hurt you. Whatever his fucked up methods, he wants to help runners.

I like him as a person, I loathe what he's doing.  It's an unfortunate split, but not exactly one I'm not familiar with.

In any case, we're long gone now. Elliott's still  buried in his research, Em's still far too smart for her own good, and I'm still a dumbass.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

What's sad about forty-seven kids dying in a forest?

I guess boredom's finally gotten the better of me. But I guess that's not surprising. Week upon endless week of the same two beds, one armoire, shitty hotel coffee and suspiciously slimy bathrooms tend to exhaust your sources of entertainment pretty quickly. I think I've watched every episode of every notable soap opera (shut it) and about half of the obscure ones.

I guess there's always blogs - but hell, it's gotten to the point where I don't think there's one I don't check on at least a semi-regular basis. Even if commenting's not really something I'm into. Just for the record: I read all the comments. I lurk around the more active blogs. I just can't be damned to respond to any of them.

Call it apathy.

But that's not really the point. Here I go rambling because I'm avoiding the issue.

That issue, of course, being the topic of my last post. The old blog. Loopy hellforest bullshit blog. Five months I thought I'd be happy to repress.

Nope. Had to be curious. Had to stir up things better left forgotten.

And I don't even get the privilege of having to relive the worst of it directly from the mouths (fingers, shut it) of my former classmates.

I guess this is just a short update. Elaine and I are staying with a friend of hers and staying in the same place for more than a couple days is just peachy in my book. Em's on a Buffy binge and I'm happy to talk about it with her. Never got into it much but I still managed to watch the first three seasons. Got up to Faith killing Allan (spoilers, I guess) then kind of got bored. Went back to the shitty Korean dramas I know and love. The 1st Shop of Coffee Prince - now there's real entertainment.

I'm rambling again.

Researching. Fuck. I was never good at this shit. Makes me wonder why I tried for any kind of science major in the first place. I realize the three-line post I left last was cryptic as all hell and I thought I'd get to post something before I really had to blitz with the research. Even talking to Rich and Alex have lead to nothing. Nada. Ziltch. We're back to rummaging through the technological equivalent of garbage cans and asking questions in shady bars and those metaphors are becoming way, way too literal for my liking. Looks like whatever we're looking for isn't making itself easy to find - and what I'm trying to get out to whoever bothers to read this thing might end up coming more from my memory and Rich's memory (because Alex, poor bastard - or lucky bastard, depending on how you look at it - can't recall a damn thing) more than I'd like.

But hey, the more the merrier, right?

So we're staying with a new friend of Elaine's and it turns out she's not actually sleeping with him - something I'm blaming on the fact that he's gayer than a handbag full of rainbows. Not that it might stop me from trying ...

And if that doesn't work I'll at least steal the rum. That's some fancy fucking shit she's getting, and it doesn't take a lot to figure out who's sending it to her.

Can't let the poor lady finish it all off by herself, right?

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Going Through the Motions

Showing Emily Buffy the Vampire Slayer may not have been my absolutely best idea to keep her occupied. She's fallen in love with it, and has seriously asked me if anyone's tried staking slendershit. 'Just in case'.
At least she's smart enough to understand it's just fiction, I was half worried she'd start trying to convince me to call a Slayer to take care of him.
Not that that surprises me, the kid is a fucking genius. I don't just mean she's kind of bright, I mean she's six years old and she's already gotten past the point where my fourth grade educated ass can actually help her with her work.
It's interesting. I can't help but wonder what she would've been if she'd had a chance to grow up normally, go to school and all. She's fucking ridiculously smart, she would've been a damn rocket scientist or grown up to cure fucking cancer or something. And now she'll be lucky if she lives past her next birthday.

In other news, Spencer came by today. For... about half an hour. It was good seeing him, wish he could've stayed longer, pretty much all the same shit I've said the other couple times he's made it out to see me.

Also, heading off to see another friend, I'll tell you more about that when it's happened.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Fucker Means Business

This past weekend I met up with Ember. We've been emailing constantly since. Well, for a while now. And in light of recent events, Salome told Ember to get out and relax. So we decided to meet.

The first day he was here I made sure Emily and Elliott were safe and far away from us, just in case, but it turned out to be entirely unnecessary. Ember is just as sweet in person as on the internet, and we had a lot of fun the first few days.

Today, however, I got another note with breakfast.
It was a picture of Emily and Elliott, asleep in their room, which was right next to and connected to ours. The caption on it read 'You're getting sloppy. If I wanted them dead, they would be.'

Ember got a call from Salome not long after. The three of us, meanwhile, are on the move again, and we'll be sleeping in shifts from this point onward.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Putting Things Off

I've gotten lazy. There's some stuff I was supposed to post months ago, that just never got typed out. I did two interviews, which aren't normally my thing, but if a friend wants to get something off their chest, I'm certainly not going to turn them down.
They probably would've both been lost to time, but Dysis put up a post about her childhood, and that inadvertently shamed me into putting this up-since one of these interviews is with Dysis, I figure I really should.

Right. So, the interview with Dysis was actually over the phone, I've never been lucky enough to meet her in person, though I really would love a chance to have a drink with her. She asked me if I would hear her story and post it, she wanted to get it out there and didn't quite have the heart to post it herself-which I totally understand.

By now everyone knows that she's a country girl who went into the parks service, saw a bunch of monsters, nearly got gored to death, etc. She was away from home for years, and when she finally went back... everything was different. The trees and brush were all dying, and the kids were... quiet. Blank.
She didn't know what to think, so she just went about her business, went to see her best friend from before she left-a guy named Riley, who'd since married and had some kids.
The kids were a little weird, but the visit went well, and he ended up asking her if he could have some of the firewood she had at her old house. She certainly wasn't using it, so she went to get it for him and ran into his kids, standing there all creepy like in her backyard. She was understandably confused, offered to take them home. Next thing she knew she was tied up arms spread kneeling on the ground in a basement.
Riley's standing in front of her, with a bunch of kids, a couple teenagers, and some adults all milling about. When she asks what the fuck was going on, she gets the story of the years she'd missed.
Kids started going missing. All the kids under ten vanished, one by one, and the teenagers started having night terrors and hysteria and nervous ticks, some even had full blown breakdowns with the screaming like in some bad exorcism movie.
Some of the kids showed back up again, but they were acting all weird, like she'd seen, and they wouldn't talk about where they'd been.
And then one day at church he shows up. Standing in the doorway, all the kids huddled around his feet. And then he vanishes, and the kids are still there, and all the parents go and grab their children and take them home, and everyone tries to forget.
But we all know it's not that simple when it comes to slendershit.
The kids started acting strangely, talking about how god was angry and that's why they'd been taken, and how everything would go back to normal if they started worshipping the 'real' god.
And they did. They set up services for him and suddenly he's about more often and telling them to do things like converting everyone else. And to do what they had to to those that resisted.
Dysis said what struck her then wasn't so much the whips he started fishing through, but how defeated he looked. It was obvious he didn't want to do this, but he had to.
He called up the teenagers, told them they had to learn how to 'convert people'. He lashed her a couple times to demonstrate, then called the first one up, then the second, and so on. Every few teens he'd stop and ask her if she was ready to convert. She persistently told him to go to hell, and in the end he called everyone in and made an example of her. All of the teens had a go at her, and by the end she could barely talk but she was as stubborn as ever.
And then Riley turned to the adults and told them to get their tools. She's thinking she's pretty fucked till she sees this little girl hiding behind her mother and begging her not to let it happen, and she just snaps.
Dysis doesn't remember what happens next, really. Next thing she knows she's standing outside in the mud, bleeding and clutching an axe, and she doesn't really know what happened, but it's not hers and it's covered in blood and there's a fire starting.
And there he is. Slendershit. Just standing there staring, with kids all around him again. And she saw red and charged the bastard, knocking the kids aside to chop into him like a fucking tree. Apparently it hurt like a motherfucker and whatever happened next she ends up in the mud and gets to her truck and drives to the nearest rest stop and sits there till she can function again.
According to the radio, a forest fire wiped out the town. No word on any bodies or anything, just a forest fire that caught in all those dead trees without any hope of survivors.
She cleaned herself up and locked the axe away in the trunk-it makes her nauseous and headachey to be around, apparently.

She may not remember exactly what happened, but she knows she killed them. That's her big secret. She's worried everyone will reject her for that-she's never told anyone but Hylo before. Somehow I expect with the way the Stalked have to be sometimes we'll understand. Especially considering she's made a big effort to make sure nothing like that ever happened again.

The second bit of info is from a discussion I had with David, back... before. During one of his visits. I was understandably curious and I figure maybe if you lot understand a bit more about him, I'll stop getting fucking ambushed every time I see him because oh fuck the enemy.

Fuck you guys. Yeah, he does some awful shit. But let me paint this in clear black and white. So did I. I'm not going to judge him for doing all the same sorts of things I used to do. You look at David and see a monster, I look at a guy who has some rather awful hobbies, but who always has a smile and a treat for Em, and whom goes completely peaceful and delighted at the simple presence of music. Any music, doesn't matter.  The simple joy there... it's gorgeous.
More importantly, he's done a lot for me. And it's not exactly his fault he got involved with slendershit, from what he's told me, the fucker showed up in his apartment one night and smacked him around till he agreed to work for him.
He says he gets his orders direct too, none of this bureaucratic bullshit. Apparently he gets dreams. And they're special dreams that he always remembers and feel very different from normal dreams. And they're his assignments. And if he does well enough, he gets a year. A year of life for someone he cares about, apparently. That's how he was keeping TMV safe. And his son, apparently.
Most of what he does-and this is going to count against him, but for the sake of honesty I'll include it anyway-is just what he wants. He does what he does because he's trying to protect people, or because he thinks his helping, or because he's fucking bored, I don't know.

It's just. He's not a monster, just a man who does bad things. And I guess that's still not great, but I feel like it's important to make the distinction. Monsters don't bring little girls candy just to see them smile. Monsters don't let their friends cry on their shoulders in the middle of crowded diners. Monsters... Monsters don't fall in love or dote on their children and try to set them up with people to cheer them up.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

We're Going to Disney World!

Or rather, we did. Met up with Rachael today-she suggested it as a good opportunity to do something for Em, and as the poor kid certainly needs all the cheering up she can get, it struck me as a good idea.

One day, spent in the Magic Kingdom, with a six year old. We spent all day running about, trying to see and do everything. Emily, of course, took to Rach like she's taken to all of my friends she's met-enthusiastically and loudly.

Would've been a nice, peaceful day, except for two fucking things.
The first happened around 2 or so, we'd just done fucking Splash Mountain, and Emily wanted the picture. For those of you who don't know, at the top of the big fuckoff hill at the end of Splash Mountain, there's a camera set up to take your picture right before you go over. They sell the pictures at the exit of the ride.
Em wanted a copy, so we went to get it-and got a little more than we bargained for.

The entire right side of the picture was distorted all to hell. Looks like slendershit was nearby. And worse, when I got the copy of the picture (figured maybe it was just the monitor since they didn't seem bothered by it), it came with a threatening note.

"Mock me all you want, but I won't just watch forever."

Still a little trite, and yes the 'o's were all replaced with operator symbols, but the fact that they could slip the note /into/ the frame with the picture means this isn't just some idiot amateur. The fact that only our picture was distorted... Well, that means he showed up just for us. How nice.

The other thing was the chat I had with Rach, while Elliott and Em watched the fireworks. She'd been... wobbly, for lack of a better term, all day. Looked a little glassy eyed, was a little slow to react to things. Barely noticeable, especially considering how bright and happy she seemed, playing with Em and seeing us. It's such a fucking radical change from the quiet, demure, sad proxy I stayed with back in August.

But I was right. Something's wrong. She's pretty badly injured. Been shot a couple times, and has a burn on her arm from the New Years party. I only got to see her arm, but that, at least, was infected enough to look really bad. I'm fucking worried about her.

Nothing I can do, though. I offered the little help I can give, and she told me not to worry, she has a plan. So, hopefully that works out.

As for us? We're long gone by now. Gotta keep fucking moving, after all.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Forgetting Something?

Still don't know what that fucking note was about. I figure it's some moronic proxy just trying to psych us out. Because obviously we're rookies who are going to get spooked by random notes, not like we've been at this for a while and seen all kinds of horrific things.
Oh no, these notes are /so scary/.

And yeah, notes. There's been a couple more. On our hotel room door and on the windshield-they don't seem to be able to catch us anywhere else. Stupid shit. "Look around" and "Father's watching".

Urgh, I know he's watching, I hardly sleep for the amount of watching he does, shut up about it already.

On the bright side, that lottery ticket won us a few hundred bucks, so that's a nice bit of cash-it'll pay for our rooms for a few days.

Otherwise... things are pretty calm. I've gotten more or less back to normal, we have our routine, Emily seems to be doing pretty well. Elliott's... well, he's him. He's doing just fine. Bitching about being back in the US, but he's just giving me shit for the fuck of it. It's easier to be somewhere where at least one of us legally exists and isn't risking being booted from the country because I didn't have a visa.

So, that's us. Just running. Dealing with some moronic shithead of a proxy.  And winning the lottery.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

We stopped at a Kroger for no more than five minutes.

Had to get some shit for the road. Food, water, Tylenol, whatever. The usual stuff.

It was when we got back outside that things got a little weird.

At first I thought we'd gotten a parking ticket. There was a little square of paper stuck under the wiper. Strange, sure, but nothing too suspicious. Elaine and Em were trailing behind a bit, Emily struggling to pull a Kit-Kat from underneath a week's worth of ramen and Dr. Pepper.

Yeah, I know it tastes like shit. Bite me.

It's college all over again on the road, and I'm not sure if I'm complaining or not.


So the note. And yeah, it was a note, not a parking ticket. A scaaaaary~ little piece of cryptic bullshit written on the back of what looked like a lotto ticket.


You had to be kidding me.

This was so Marble Hornets.

Wasn't really sure what to make of it at first. You get a note under your wiper and normally it's some passive-aggressive asshole raging on about your inability to parallel park or a nice little chunk of change you're expected to pay because you ran into a store for five minutes for a pack of cigs because of course it's only when you're gone for a few minutes. It's not really that common to find what looks like My First Death Threat, letters cut out of a magazine and O's crossed with what you swear must have been tar or paint because it sticks to your fingers and stinks.

I guess we did the most logical thing with it.

That is, take the note and get out of there as quickly as possible.

Hey, we're snarky, not stupid. Even if this is some newbie fresh off the betentacled bandwagon we're not about to take any chances. Elaine doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned and I'm a little more curious as to why it's on a lottery ticket instead of some personalized operator-symbol ridden stationary à la the red-haired bastard or something ripped from a 16-year-old girl's diary.

Either way, we're still on the road. Elaine's started putting us in connection rooms so she can have her nights in peace - says it's 'nightmares' but yeah, right, like I'm going to believe that. At least I get some time to watch Em and figure some stuff out for myself.

Updates to come, I guess. Nothing else to report.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

So, we've left Benjamin's place. It was nice to stay in one place for a bit, but it's a bit of a relief to be on the move. Means I'm less likely to bring doom down upon poor Benjamin, at least. Em's got a bunch of new books, courtesy of our former host, and so she's pretty pleased, even if she did do everything but burst into tears in an attempt to get us to stay.

But travel is essential, considering we're high priority targets. So we keep going.

And we keep going. And I try to cut back on the drinking some, now that we're moving and Emily can't be so easily kept in the dark.

At least I have good news tonight, right?

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Of all the things I wanted to wake up to...

... Elaine in hysterics is not one of them.

Hey. I guess it's been a little while. Festivities and whatnot and oh, yeah I guess the above is pretty important, too.

So, Gargoyle made a post.

Normally this doesn't bother me. That's all fine and good. My opinion on the matter I'll leave out because, frankly, I've got enough enemies and I don't really want to make any more.

But clearly, this bothered Elaine.

If anything, Gargoyle, I'll give you this: relax, I know what I'm doing. 

I guess I can't really blame him. When you say she's got a few skeletons in her closet... oh, baby, you don't know the half of it. But judging by her spectacular little reaction to Ben's transcript - which, I should mention, doesn't include anything that we haven't already heard about her - I'm not about to go putting it out there for the world to see.


Spoiler: she doesn't have the drinking under control. Locking herself in her room every night and reeking of alcohol every morning is far from 'under control.'

But it's not my place to judge.

So I'll go back to filling the farmboy's role while he and his family (fuck, man, so glad to hear you all got out of there alive. That's insane.) recover. I'm no St. Claire but hey, I guess I'll do?

It's either me or the alcohol. Sometimes me and the alcohol.

It's not a problem if you get drunk together, right?