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.
Writer.
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.

For the Latest News...

Try This

Rescue

Some of you may remember a certain showdown I had with a certain proxy back when I was still in Austin. I told you all at the time that I taunted him about his brother, and that it was a berserk button reaction. That's true. What I failed to mention was that we got in contact afterward. 

I'm still not quite sure what inspired me to send that first email. But we got in touch. We started fighting via email, and then we started bantering, and then we just started talking. And somehow we became friends.

I learned the truth of  his story, and I told him the truth of mine.

When I was being held captive by the police, he came and rescued me. Yes, that's right. The big kidnapping plot? It was a farce. A necessary one, if he were to do it without being killed. He came to get me away from the cops, he made sure they didn't hurt me, he made sure Terminator found a stash of drugs so I could get away cleanly that morning. He's all but stopped trolling me-in fact only doing so when it actually helps me. We've gotten insanely good at pretending to hate each other while sounding encouraging.

The fact is, I've been begging him for the past month and change to defect. This is going to be hard to swallow, but he's a remarkably good person past all the rage and fear and slendy-control. He's risked life and limb to help me multiple times over our short friendship, perhaps most notably when he actually risked coming into my 'cell' when he had me 'kidnapped' because I needed a friend and a shoulder to cry on. It was so stupidly reckless and and selfless and utterly /good/.

I find it impossible to dislike someone who's willing to risk life and limb JUST TO HOLD ME WHILE I CRIED.

Do you remember around a month ago, when Valtiel showed up to torture him out of the blue? It was because he was considering defecting, though he obviously couldn't say that in public. The big problem was that he's at least partially hallowed. He's undergone the process repeatedly, and while it doesn't seem to stick forever, it means that he doesn't have complete control over himself or his actions. Yes, that's right, folks. The proxy everyone loved to hate was oftentimes more or less a puppet on a string. Which has led to some rather unfortunate and spectacular tragedies over the past few weeks as we've been preparing for him to do the actual defecting.

Again. Yes, that's right, folks, he /agreed/ to defect. In his words, specifically so he could do a better job of keeping an eye on me-the first real friend he's ever had in his life.

So. We went to New Jersey today. We meaning Spencer and I. We went to Jersey, and... I wish we could have interfered in what went down today. I really do. I don't know exactly how it happened,  though I know that when we found him Melly wasn't with them, and they seemed to be doing a lot of arguing. So I hope that perhaps it went badly for them and well for us. I really, really do. But we couldn't risk interfering and dragging his handler into it, or else we all would have ended up dead. I'm so sorry.

Nonetheless. We've just rescued Morningstar.

Fire

Fuck. Got careless, got sloppy, and it's ended badly. Shrody and I have come out of this with our skins intact, anyway, and Frank's still being his usual loving self, so it could be a lot worse.
Still, I lost half of my notes, including all of Alice's notes AND her notebook itself.  Not to mention the fear that comes when you get stupid enough to think you might be safe and something terrible happens.

See, we hit a motel a little early tonight. I know I haven't been sleeping worth shit, and taking care of a new kitten means Shrody's not sleeping as well as she could be either. I think all three of us were relieved to see the inside of our rooms-two, with the connecting door wide open, as usual. I took first watch, it's not like I was going to sleep anyway-apparently suddenly sobering up will do that to a girl.

In any event, when they called the alarm over the intercom, Shrody and I were up and moving in a flash, grabbing what we could and out the door. The other guests-not that there were many of them- followed us out shortly afterward, followed by the staff, the manager carrying his ledger and doing a head count.

The motel was going up FAST, from several different points, but it looked like no harm had been done to any of us. I motioned for Shrody to follow me to the car and started loading up. It was only when I turned to ask for her bag that I noticed she was gone. And then I immediately realized that Frank hadn't made it out with us.

It was stupid of me not to grab him and stupid of me to let Shrody out of my sight when her kitten was in danger. So, I did something equally stupid. I ran in after her. Because like hell was I going to risk anything else happening to her.
If you've never walked into a burning building, it's a little pointless to describe the suffocating heat, the smoke everywhere, sometimes thin enough that you almost wouldn't know there was a fire, sometimes so thick you can't see a foot in front of your face. Mostly I stayed clear of the flames, but trying to get through the hotel occasionally I'd hit a stretch where the flames bloomed above me or to the side and made the entire place look like some crazed artist's rendition of hell. It's the sort of thing you have to live to really understand, and trust me, you don't want to.

That said, it didn't take me long to get to her, it just felt like it. She'd made it to the room, but she was OUT. The ceiling was starting to cave, and something fell on her-though I'm not really sure what, there was nothing nearby that looked like it fell. Looked like it was on fire when it hit, but for whatever reason it went out quick-which was good for her. Even better, Frank was there, nosing at her, trying to wake her. I grabbed her and Frank and got the fuck out of there. Once we were out, the Manager started fussing over us and trying to insist on calling an ambulance. I'm not ENTIRELY sure how Shrody's condition works and I didn't think she'd want doctors peering at her if she could help it, so I stalled until she woke up.
Oh that was such a relief. I'm willing to admit now, now that we're safe and far away, that I was terrified. I was so worried that something serious had happened-or worse, that I'd lost her completely.
She seemed to be in a lot of pain, but she insisted the man not call an ambulance, and so he FINALLY left to deal with his other customers. After that it was a matter of waiting until she was alright to move and then getting the fuck out of there.

Though I will say. The smile on her face when she saw Frank safe and well made it all worth it.

Not Exactly Civil...

But interesting. David came over today. He disguised himself as the grocery delivery guy and got into the house helping us carry the groceries. Ro wasn't kidding in his last post, he had like no food in the house. I'm guessing he mostly lives off of delivery food.
In any event. it's not until David slipped up and used Ro's real name that I could confirm that there was something strange-though I still can't shake the oddest feeling that I'd seen him before. Ro got up and saw David, David proceeded to be charming while threatening all of us. I get the feeling he's rather good at that.

I don't have the memory to recall the exact conversation, I was too busy watching the knife he had out and pressed against Shrody's cheek at that point. That was not something I was going to let stand. I pulled my knives and made it clear that he'd have to go through me to get to her-or at least tried. Ro slammed David away before I got the chance. Unfortunately, he didn't last long in the fight afterward-David had him pinned rather quickly.
The two of them have... interesting chemistry. I almost wonder what would've happened if I hadn't stepped in. I mean. Sorry, Ro, but fuck you two were going at it with your eyes. I mean, really.

Okay, shutting up now.

Right. So. I managed to say the right thing to get David interested in fighting me, thereby allowing Ro to get Shrody the fuck out of there. It was a good fight-David really knows what he's doing. I now have a nice stab wound in my left shoulder, again, and he has a lovely gash across his torso that will probably leave a serious scar.

After that, he seemed to respect me a little more. He said he'd go if I sat down and talked to him for a minute, so I did, being careful not to bleed on Ro's furniture. Strangely, he was perfectly pleasant, didn't seem to be bothered either by the rather energetic fight or by the fact that he was bleeding pretty heavily.

While we talked, I figured out just how much of a fucking bastard David really is. Two things were readily apparent. If David cares about anything in this world, it's Ro, and everyone else doesn't matter. People aren't people to him, they're objects. Things to be used and toyed with and disposed of when convenient. I was kind of surprised he spoke to me as respectfully as he did-though upon reflection, I'm expecting it's because I injured him. He seemed rather impressed by that. He even said he'd come to see me again-and NOT try and kill me-if it left a scar. Not quite sure how I feel about that...

David wanted me to defame Ro. He wanted me to blame my injury on him, to come on this blog and talk about how he was secretly a terrible person, to make people step away and stop encouraging him to be a hero. His rationale was that Ronan's search for redemption was making him miserable, and that if everyone stopped encouraging him to go for it, he'd come back to David and be happy.
Which is kind of sick.
I told him to fuck off, that I wouldn't let him hurt people I care about. He warned me that if I wouldn't help him separate Ro from all of you that he'd do it in a bit more violent way. So be warned, any of you that spend much time talking to TMV. David's coming, and I have no doubt that he will follow through with that threat. Be careful.

David phrased it as 'pitting my love against yours.' I found that rather amusing, but more or less accurate. I won't let David get away with hurting any of you.

Escape

I'm out, I'm out, I'm out, I'm free, I'm safe. Well, as safe as I can be, under the circumstances. By the time this goes up, I'll have been gone for two hours. I'm getting the fuck out of town, and that should be plenty of time for me to be off in a direction and be difficult to trace.
The alarm probably will have gone up by then, anyway.

It was surprisingly easy to get away. Terminator was on guard duty, and he was tired and distracted and forgot to lock the door... Something distracted him, he ran off, and it wasn't much work to sneak out. I almost feel bad for Star-two days he was in top form and some incompetent moron ruined it for him.
Yeah, if he hadn't been planning on killing me today, I would be sad about that. As it stands, FUCK YES FOR INCOMPETENT MINIONS!

Anyway, I'm at a McDonalds posting this and they're getting pissy that I haven't ordered anything, so I'm going to head out. I'll put a proper post tonight when I'm on the road.

Back to the Real World

Elaine made me promise to put something up. The police are still talking to her-I think they're trying to get her to agree to protective custody. Like that would have happened even BEFORE Slendershit made the existence of police a damn moot point. Elaine's a stubborn bitch and that's not likely to change for the police. 
She hates them. Don't think she's ever told you lot that. Can't say I blame her really, not knowing what I know now. She's not overly fond of military types for the same reason, but she seems to have made an exception for me, which I'm grateful for.


Right. Sorry. Distracted. Don't want to think about things but I have to and fuck if I'm not supposed to be trained to deal with this sort of thing. It's a bit different out in the battlefield versus on your couch, though. 


To really understand this, I'm going to have to tell you about the phone calls we've been getting this week. Elaine didn't say anything up here because she didn't want to worry people, and the call we got yesterday she wanted to keep from Cam for a little while for his sake. Wednesday morning, Anne called us and told us that someone had left a torn up stuffed cat on the doorstep. We thought-we HOPED it was just a stupid prank or someone trying to psych us out. We didn't hear anything Thursday, so we relaxed a little. Yesterday, however, Anne called us with the news that River had been killed and left on display. Not just killed, either, but skinned and tortured and... It was bad. Anne was hysterical telling us about it. She called the police and Elaine and I agreed to keep this from Cam until we were leaving so he could enjoy his vacation.
We agreed that it was probably a proxy, but that there was nothing we could do until we got home. We did warn Anne to stay away for her own safety, but apparently she didn't listen


Anne was in our apartment when we got home. It looks like she had been trying to clean up some of the blood for us. Whoever killed her  used that to their advantage. The bleach she'd been using had been poured all over her mutilated body. It was gruesome and detailed and I really wish I could've kept Cam from seeing.


Elaine called the cops, because as much as she dislikes them she's not stupid. And we've been at the police station for the past hour. They think this has something to do with her past and want us all to go into protective custody until they can catch the killer.  There's no real good way to tell them that they WON'T catch the killer, so we're left looking like stubborn idiots. Really, I'm okay with that, so long as we're alive. Elaine and I are going to fortify the crap out of the apartment. No one gets in without us knowing about it.


Here's hoping that'll last us until we can figure out what to do from here.


Jake

The Wedding

Cam and Jake probably won't be leaving their part of the hotel room for the next day or two, so I figure I should maybe put up a post about the wedding itself.

Short version? It went fucking nuts.
The actual ceremony went more or less as planned, though the fact that several of us had spotted Cockrobin running about and were concerned put a bit of a damper on things. The boys didn't notice, though, and I can honestly say watching those two glow as they said their vows was probably the sweetest thing I've ever seen. People were crying and cheering as they kissed, and I had to laugh at how uncomfortable Jake's mom was looking at the whole thing. Crazy homophobic bint.

It was only AFTER the ceremony that things got crazy. August ran off to follow Cuntmuffin when he vanished. Spencer grabbed Nick and Konaa to deal with the body of the chef-Star had killed him and poisoned all the food. Even the cake, which I think Cam about had a heart attack when he realized. Cam's aunt Jennifer got horribly sick, which would be worse if she weren't the aunt that walked up to Cam and I before the ceremony to ask if he was quite sure he wouldn't rather marry me instead. So, really, I'm not going to feel too guilty over what is apparently merely a temporary inconvenience. No idea whether Shitstar did that on purpose or picked the wrong poison.

In any event, that was about the point that the chairs exploded. Someone-probably Moaningstar but possibly someone else-had rigged them all with explosives. No one was seriously hurt, they didn't explode hard enough to do anything past throwing a bunch of splinters around. Shitstar at that point had made it back down to the wedding, August had apparently gotten caught up with a bunch of random proxies, and all hell was breaking loose. Jake and I headed out to the hall, where Nick was holding his own. Jake rushed back in to protect Cam while I kept an eye on Nick, ready to intervene if needed.

And right there is where I lose track of what's going on with most everyone. Nick and Star end up in the elevator, which closes. I hovered there for a minute before heading over to help August and Spencer just in time to stop one of them from catching August good. That turns into a proper brawl with the three of us plus Hylo and Lucas. I'm pretty sure that at least some of the proxies ended up dead, but I'm honestly not sure, and I didn't check when August started taking them away.

From what I gather from Nick, he and Shitstar fought in the elevator until it opened on Tiger and Recluse. He then... well, I'll let him tell you about that one, his supernatural stuff is not my area of expertise. But they cut and ran, along with what was probably Gleeman and... that other one. The boring one. With the guns and the sword. I don't bother keeping track. They'd been busy rescuing Nee-Chan from a fight with Konaa, who apparently did some pretty good damage.

In the good news, everyone's alive, and aside from a few relatively minor wounds we didn't take any real hits either. A resounding success for us, especially as we moved into the reception after this, and the hotel even managed to put together an entire new feast for us. I shudder to think how much it cost Cam but it's not like he didn't have the money.

In spite of the fighting and the loss of the cake, I'd call the wedding a success. Cam and Jake are married, they got their dance, they got their cheesy cake cutting moment(though on a significantly less fancy cake). We did the toast thing, and I made a complete ass of myself, and I danced with Nick.

Shitstar and Nee-Chan, that doesn't mean you're ANY less dead when/if I find you. Don't get comfy. I may not believe in killing you guys, but Jake does not share my scruples.

~Elaine

In which my decision making skills are fucking AWESOME

So, it's a bit harder to be scared of an eldrich horror apparently invented by the internet (though I know that's not quite right) when you've had a really fucking shit day at job one and you're about to be late for job two because job one kept you for an hour past when they were supposed to.
My manager at job one wouldn't fucking let me go. And I was supposed to be at home ready to take calls from internet perverts for cash half an hour after the first job FINALLY let me go.
It was 9 o'clock at night. Had I gotten out of work on time, I could have taken the long way home and avoided the park AND gotten home before dark.
As it stood, if I wanted to get home on time, so as not to be late logging in to work, I had no choice but to walk home through the park, like I always would have.
I really considered just being late to the second job, I could have talked my way out of being in trouble. But unfortunately, I'd had such a shit day at the burger place, so many idiots and assholes, including my absolutely useless manager, that any fear of Slendyshit was buried under pure rage.
I managed to convince myself that I was being stupid, that I'd only seen tall, dark, and ugly last night because I was terrified and tipsy. He couldn't really be real, and so I should stop being a moron and walk home the short way, so as to not be late for work.

So, lets recap. Angry, stupid Elaine, walking home alone, at night, through the woods. Yeah. The outcome was entirely predictable. He was there. The entire walk home, he was there. Just watching me, head tilted at that creepy as fuck impossible angle. Every time I moved out of sight, he was there standing beside a different tree.
Thankfully, my self-preservation instinct kicked in at that point, and I remembered M's rules and didn't run. I walked as fast as I could, but I didn't dare risk running. It worked, clearly, otherwise I wouldn't be here, but it was terrifying. Cam called me ten kinds of idiot when I told him, too.

I think the worst bit was getting home and having to be sexy for pay for six hours. Especially because he kept fucking staring at me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a guy off when you've got a motherfucking eldrich horror watching you do so? Yeah. It's rather difficult.
I should get hazard pay or something.
Now, Cam and I are huddled in our living room, with the blinds very tightly drawn. River, our cat, has been freaking out all buggering night. It's not hard to figure out why.

I really should start following the horror movie rules, before my idiocy gets me killed.