But I Love It

Father thrust me deep into Darkness,
So I may better learn to love my Light.

For with every soul I can not save,
It darkens with Bitterness and Spite.

Surrounded by this Madness,
I no longer know whats Right.

Father, thrust me deeper into Darkness still.
Push me far, use all your Might!

Please... let there still be some Light.

Amen. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

So... I've held back on this one. For quite a while in fact. The likes of this and this have already been out for nearly a week.

The incredibly useless accounts of the assholes that showed up to my grand fucking finale with fucking earplugs of things.

And don't even get he started on my problems that shithead's Sloth's telling of my farewell call. Who the fuck can't go a single line of fucking dialog without cramming arbitrary internal exposition in. I mean who does that? Seriously, who the fuck does that?! This isn't documentary. You're not Bear fucking Grills.

God damn it. He had one job.  See what happens, tell what happens, and reiterate my call. Handle my finale with fucking grace and dignity. I just... wanted to leave on a strong note, you know? Stand up up tall and leave with some dignity.

Now I have to tell my own proper good bye. And that's not cool. Its narcissistic. I can't help feeling like I deserve better than that. Its a narcissistic fucking loop. A black hole of self indulgent shit. 

Its smut.

Fine smut. The gentlemanly kind... or something.

Whatever.  You want something done right, you narcissism the shit out of it. 

Right?

Of course I'm right. I'm me.

I'm gonna go ahead and retell the story as if you didn't know the ending, for as far as I know you don't yet.

So, I called out Picasso, Moth, Nat, Sloth and their brigade of renegade proxy pals to settle things once and for all. By that point it had already come out that they, through Father's behind the scenes manipulation and through orders he had been issuing my subordinates behind my back, were in fact working for my boss and lord the Slender Man (A.K.A. Father). Jeez that sentence is a mouthful.

I suppose my first mistake was boasting that I could use Whisper to force them all into submission... its why they came with the earplugs.

But I didn't actually bring Whisper. I had deduced that I would not actually need him. Picasso and her cronies wouldn't require it. If they were an actual threat, I might have brought whisper. Hell, I might have taken David up on his and let him help to... well no. I guess I wouldn't. You can't fucking trust David. Or at least I can't. We'll call back to that later.

So I didn't bring anyone else but Duckie. Duckie was all I needed... that and snacks. I made a food run while we were waiting for Day to break.

Setting up for a meeting like this was easy. I mean, I practically teleport so I was able to just pop in the necessary lighting equipment to the places I would need them on the roof... just can't teleport food... or living organic matter, it spoils.

Funnily enough I actually bumped into Sloth and Nat shopping while I was on my food run. That uh... could not have been more awkward.

I decided against moving around after that. We just climbed up on the roof, and waited... for like hours. They took their sweet ass time there.

I made some small talk with Duckie.

"You sure you want to do this big guy?" I asked reaching over and patting his shoulder.

He stood there unflinchingly for a long time before he finally decided to respond. And when he did, his words couldn't have made me proud.

All he said was, "Fathers will be done."

That poor boy never lost Faith.

At long last I could hear someone coming. I climbed up on the back rest of my chair to ready self. I could see Duckie tense up and relax to my left. He was nervous.

One by one every piled up on the roof across from us. Picasso, Moth, Nat, Sloth, Navi, and Vallus.

So I gave them a proper greeting and turned on the blindingly bright lights I had meticulously teleported in.

They looked pleasantly surprised... or just surprised I guess. More horrified and surprised? Hard to say. Nat's jaw practically dropped and she and the others kept looking out at the other roof tops... if I had to guess they were looking for my sniper. I hindsight, I probably shouldn't have brought the lighting out.

I mean, sure it adds a little oomph to the situation but apparently it combined with the knowledge that I have a highly trained sniper on my roster is very... distracting.

There are just so many little things I would have done differently in hindsight.

So, upon there arrival I immediately dove into my theatrics.

I threw up my hands and yelled, "Welcome! Let's get this execution started shall we!"

... Under the humming of the light I heard... foot steps behind me... and ambush? Strange. Nothing I could turn to deal with at that exact moment though. If I turned my back on the angry mob in front of me they'd bum rush me. He remain composed...

I dropped off the back rest of my chair onto my feet and proceeded to walk around the chair to better greet my guests, hopefully moving further away from the source of the noise. It was about then that I realized something was wrong... you know. Beyond what I had anticipated and beyond who ever was trying to sneak up on me.

Picasso was as mess but that was the thing I saw coming. Her hair was everywhere. She was in food and blood stained clothes. It looked like both she and her clothes had not been changed or washed for several weeks. She was drooling. Practically frothing at the mouth in anticipation. Her eyes glued on Duckie as she made gnarling noises at him and used her teeth to make biting noises. 

When I greeted everyone, she was the only one to respond to me. 

Nat and the rest of the sane people were working themselves up for the fight they were anticipating silently with looks to each other and gestures. Moth held up his spear in a little hoorah motion but nobody fucking responded to me. No one but crazy girl. 

She called out at me in double speak showing Father's influences over her on her sleeves as he screamed through her. "FUCK FACE!"

I did the only sensible thing you could possibly do in that situation. I gave that bitch the hand and pointed at her friends.

"Uh... whats wrong with them. I was expecting more... wisecracks and insults. If nothing else far more cussing."

I could see the curiosity creep in through Picasso's serious face proving something of her was still there. She leaned back a bit to look for herself and noticed something I couldn't see from my vantage point and broke out laughing.

"What? What is it."

"Th-They, hahahaha, they have ear plugs on. How do you like that, hahahaha," she said laughing at me before suddenly and violent jerking herself quiet into an awkward upright position. When she spoke again she spoke in that deep furious double talk once more. "They're TIRED of listening to your BULLSHIT too."

I couldn't help but sigh. All the fucking effort I went through setting up this little show and they couldn't fucking hear me. I groaned rubbed the top of the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"This is bullshit."

"It's time to DIE Fuck face!"

I once again through my hand out at Picasso. Specifically my finger. My index finger.

"Oh yeah. Is this your glorious victory. Is the only way for you to beat Duckie to team up on him with five other fucking people?!"

She stopped mid-step... hesitated. That insult struck deep and for a moment her face was taken with an expression of pain and realization before quickly snapping back to it's furious scowl.

"FUCK YOU FUCK FACE YOU SON OF A BITCH!" she yelled pulling out her axes and holding one out in front of her in my direction.

Everyone else, seeing this motion, took a stance and prepared to charge. Picasso hissed and whipped around to face them, putting out a hand to inform them to stop. "MINE!" she screamed out, clearly devolving further before out very eyes.

Despite being unable to hear her, they all backed down. He body language was certainly loud enough for everyone to hear.

Then she whipped back around towards me and Duckie and took several steps forward before slamming her foot into the ground with such force I swear it cracked the roof beneath her foot. "YOU. ME. SETTLE THIS NOW!"

She took her fighting stance. Duckie took his. I pulled my gun out behind Duckie's back where she couldn't see it and started walking forward until I was right behind Duckie.

"That's right. We're gonna settle this once and for all. There will be no question who was right all along after this. At long last, something that should have been done a long time ago will finally be fixed."

Picasso grew impatient. She wasn't willing to wait until the end of my little rant to see this done. Mid way through the monologue she broke into a mad dash towards us with her axes out at her side in either hand ready to kill Duckie or die trying.

... And I couldn't let that happen. I cocked my gun and aimed for the sure shot, firing true... and killing Duckie instantly... or uh... instantly enough... brains and blood splatted out the back of his head and lightly coated me... my gun... my hand... 

Duckie was twitching on the floor... very dead. There was no saving him... but he was doing this unnerving twitching thing... wouldn't stop fucking twitching. I might have kicked him still but my attention was called elsewhere when Picasso started screaming bloody fucking murder.

  I could see everyone behind her was sharing concerned looks of confusion. The look on Sloth's face was priceless. Just the... absolute... disbelief...

Didn't have time to relish in it. Picasso stopped screaming and pulled herself to her feet. She started charging at me again, yelling "THAT WAS MINE!"

But this time when she spoke, the double speak was gone. It was just her now. 

See... I didn't just execute Duckie for fun... when I realized Father wasn't ever gonna rest as long as I had him, I made Father deal. If I, me specifically, killed Duckie he agreed that he would set all of this right and fix Picasso for me. Not to be out done, I talked him into throwing Moth into the deal too. For the cost of one life, Duckie's, I would save two, Picasso's and Moth's. Terms I did not personally acceptable in the least... but ones I could learn to live with.

I heard the sound of footsteps right behind me... literally right at my back. Whoever the fuck that was had made it all the way behind me without me noticing and decided against attacking and retreated. I tried to get a glimpse over my shoulder but I was in hurry and couldn't really turn to look. I had an angry bitch charging headlong at me.

I threw up a finger again, this time pointing behind Sloth and the others. Something that confused them greatly as they tried to follow what I was pointing at. Something that toppled them all over onto their asses when they realized it was there.

Father, stood before them rising tale in his glory. "I kept my side of the bargain! Keep yours! Fix her!" I yelled at his.

I could hear him growling. If he didn't have a deal to up hold, he'd have been ripping limbs from my body for my insolence. He threw out his arms and snagged Picasso from across the roof just as she was jumping at me. Her ax came less than an inch from my face as she was slammed hard into the ground behind for.

Father's tendrils started at her feet and wrapped along her legs, past her waist, up her chest, around her neck, and then up against her cheek.

Picasso spent the better half of this process struggling and screaming.

"I'm GONNA kill you fuck face IF ITS the LAST thing I ever FUCKING DO! Do YOU hear me?! I'm gonna KILL you. I FUCKING SWEAR IT. I'M GONNA SHOVE THIS AX SO FAR UP YOUR AS-"

And before she could finish that vulgar thought Father crammed a tendril through her left eye and she started twitching and seizing. She would continue to do so for about the next twenty minutes, long after Father had withdrawn his tendrils and disappeared. Nat and company would spend that time staring on in disbelief in a defensive posture.

Of course they still had their fucking earplugs in and had no fucking clue what was going on. Useless assholes.

I clench my fist and violently ripped open a Path portal back to the Free Market compound. I motioned at their ears in hopes they would get the message and pull their plugs out.

They proceeded to stare at me like retarded turkeys on the slaughter assembly line. Following a short groan and a quick break to rub the bridge of my nose in frustration again, I tele-stepped over to Moth and ripped that fucking spear out of his and gave that masked face of his a good slap before pulling out one of his earplugs myself and yelling in his ear while point out Picasso and the Path portal.

"Are you just gonna fucking stand there?! You're my bitch again now. Get back to work. Shes hurt. Get her ass home!"

He took a moment to stare at me in disbelief before running over and scooping up Picasso and carrying her off into the portal.

I pulled out my notepad and wrote a note for Nat as I made my way over to her.

It read, ''There's a hospital in there.' Which was true enough. I had my medical team waiting at attention back at the compound in case anything went wrong.

While she took a moment to try to read and make sense of the note, I pulled my gun and shot Sloth in the gut.

Nat looked furious but she looked more concerned for Sloth. After a moment of deliberation, she scooped him up too and booked it through the portal. Navi and Vallus took the opportunity to try to attack me. I saw their shadows making their way at me and tele-stepped out of the way.

I pointed my gun at them from across the roof. They hesitated and stopped a moment. I motioned at their ears. They finally got the message and each pulled a plug out from one of their ears with their free hand.

"You two planning to abandoning your friends to hang out here and fight me?" I asked. Navi looked over at the portal and back at me before cussing and darting for the portal.

Vallus stood her ground. 

"... What are you waiting for? Go!"

She stared a moment longer before she finally answered.

"No."

"What?" 

"I said no. You're not fooling me. I know where that goes and I'm not going back! When I left you and the compound, it was for good!"

I tele-stepped right in front of her to scowled her in person for dramatic effect. "Quit acting like a fucking child and get your ass home!" I yelled pointing towards the portal.

She took the opportunity to shove me on my ass.

"I'm not acting like a child!" she yelled from over me, glaring down at me from up high. She pulled out her mask and snapped it in two over her knee before me and throw the pieces at me. "And I'm certainly done listening to you," she stated calmly before making her way back to the fire escaped and taking her leave of me... and the Free Market.

Just one last thing to take care of. The fucker that tried to stab me in the back in the middle of my theatrics.

I pushed myself back to my feet and whistled aloud. "Maggot, you little shit. I know you're out here," I yelled. David had called and let me know ahead of time that Maggot had taken off from it's post. I had a hunch it might tried to kill itself if it found out I was going up against Father.

Such a loyal dog. Some of my finer work, truly.

Sure enough, Maggot whistled back. It had managed to get behind me again. I whipped around and there it was, Black coat and all white clothes with it's pearly white mask. It's knife was, thankly, tucked away.

"You shouldn't have-"

I didn't get to finish that thought. Maggot ran over and slammed its heel into my shin and then tackled my to the ground in a painful and awkward hug. More painful than anything else really.

When I was done whincing and yelling in pain, I pushed it off of me and patted it's head. "Yeah, yeah. Little shit. Stay here a moment okay? Take you back in a minute."

Maggot nodded and off I went to the Free Market to check on Picasso.

[If you want to know what happened to every one that went into the portal, its the first thing I linked above. I have no idea whats become of Vallus. Shes out in the world... somewhere.]

She was doing okay. Stable vitals... her eye was still there... mostly. The one Father rammed his tendril through was still there but it had taken on a whiter color... like the whole thing had cataracted  over. 

Moth was on the other side of the bed pacing nervously. He was visibly unnerved by my presence but seems to be taking it as a given at this point that I was in charge again, one of the reasons I had father do this in front of him on my in person request. So he would know to listen to me again. Moth is a delightfully simple soul.

I rested a hand on Picasso's shoulder a minute. I had ever intent on leaving then but recognition suddenly sprang forth in her dead stare and she slowly turned over to look at me. 

She sounded so exhausted and weak. "Franky?" she asked giving me a funny look.

I help back I bright grin. It had been a really long time since she had called me that. I could see Moth was quite surprised himself from his side of the room. He rushed over to her other side.

"Fracture. Its Fracture," I teases back to her acting like... nothing over the corpse of the last six years had happened. 

She gave me a weak shove with one hand. "Yeah, whatever Franky. Ridiculous code names."

"Its better than Pa-Ka-So. Three cherry picked syllables from your name. How incredibly fucking original."

She gave me a harder shove. "Hey! That's a secret. You promised not tell! You always have to keep your promises no matter what," she said curling back into bed. She was tired and trying to doze off on me.

But my eyes went wide. I felt my heart sink when she said that. I was cursing like crazy in my head.

"Come now. Not every promise is something you have to keep. Thing change. You have to be flexible with that kind of thing."

All I got out of her from there was. "Always," as she drifted off into her dreams.

Ominous. Truly.

So I went back to Maggot dropped it off at it's place. Its a bit of loner. It wanted a bit of time to itself. I spent that time doing movies and ice cream and shit.

Sometime early on to that Sloth and Nat called. You can check that in the second thing I linked above. I'm not writing out the whole conversation again. This post is long enough as it is.

And of course, while me and Maggot were out enjoying a well deserved break, this and this happened.

... Can't help feeling like that is somehow all Maggot's fault for not being there...

So I called our vacations short and drove Maggot back to Banks. That took some coordinated efforts with banks himself. He was on the move and I needed him to stop so he could take Maggot back in. 

So once I was sure we were about five miles away I kicked Maggot out of the car and told the little shit to start marching. No force on this earth will ever make me come within five miles of that fucker again.

He's promised me a fate and a pain worse than anything he has ever inflicted on any one over the very long course of his very storied career. And he, like Picasso, is very good keen on keeping his word... so Maggot can fucking walk.

Now that vacation is over, its time I got back to work too. Starting with this post. If you read the post by Sloth that I linked way at the top of the page, you know know I'm stepping away from the Free Market.

That's not say that I'm doing working though. I still have my duties as the Lord Guardian to carry out. I still have a Fire Cult to help direct. Still much to do to try to put the other fears back in their places and quite frankly I have no idea where to start. And all that pales in comparison to the blood sacrifice I have to organize.

Mine is a busy soul. The Free Market, though a passion project and a beautiful effort in philanthropy, has unfortunately been slowing down and it's Sloth's problem now.

Good luck shit head. See you all around.

The Lord Guardian Fracture. 

Command Me to be Well

Hmm... Lets not dive right into this one.

I know, lets start with a short side story. A little follow up. I mean, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't detail to you fine folks my latest suicide attempt right? It is, after all, my job to get myself killed doing stupid shit. I use to have some asshole that I liked to delegate that off to but hes off trying to kill me too so fuck him.

Less stalling, more reporting.

I went to go visit the Smiling Man. Now, I don't consider the smiling man to be a 'real' fear. I'm pretty sure hes an aspect of a far more powerful fear manifesting itself as its own independent entity. What does this really mean to you, the average proxy or runner? Nothing. As far as you are concerned, hes just another monster that is to be avoided least it be allowed to claim your soul.

To myself, fire cultists, and other insane assholes that actively combat Fear's and their cults it means everything. It means you could, given some ingenuity and some quick thinking actually hold your own against Mr. Smiles. At least long enough to get the fuck out of there. I don't think anyone is quite capable to stomaching the battle of attrition it would take to actually force him back. But hey, in a lot of situations its enough that you can actually slow him down. Not something you can do to must fears. Father, for example, can plow right through just about anything. When Father comes, just run.

I have a lot of thoughts on why the Smiling man is just so different from many of his siblings. Sloth did a good job of summarizing them here.

And as long as I'm linking that blog, its worth mentioning that I tried to make this visit because of what happened here.

Notice that I said 'tried'. I managed to find the tree Nat was talking about in that post. I could tell because it was the only tree covered in bright color flowers with ashy black leaves. It stuck out like a sore thumb. I intended to have a nice little chat with the Smiling one but he was gone. Seems he didn't stay ripped in half for long. Just as well. Its also worth noting here that I've stolen that tree. I had it pulled up by it's roots and replanted in it's own loop. We'll see what becomes of it.



As a final aside, I'm curious how many of you are interested in my theories and the data I've collected. I've considered making a blog dedicated to my theories and findings but who would ever trust a proxy right?
Moving on.








Now for the main event. Whisper is all healed up and back in his right mind. Hes giving orders and brainwashing people once more. Duckie has returned to peek killing condition. He use to beat Picasso and Moth's ass so even with his memory issues he should be more than enough to take both of them on his own. Whisper should be able to talk the rest of their group into submission. Duckie's very presence can force Father away. And I just got done bleaching a brand new cowboy hat so I look spiffy as shit. No one can stop me right now and I aim to prove it! Picasso its time we settled this. Meet us on the roof Duckie tried to kill you on so long ago. I'm sure you remember where that is right? The roof I saved you from when he threw your ass over the ledge you ungrateful bitch. This is a one time offer. Don't keep me waiting.




... Final aside. Rumors that I have completely lost control of my hollow's and the Mask cult due to conflicting interests with Father are completely false. Everything is copacetic. I haven't lost control of them. I locked them in their respective loops until matters can be settled.

Your lord and Guardian, Fracture, out!

Wrath is a Duck

So, like I said in my last post, Duckies is back. He's hollowed no more! Something we can do, but don't like to advertise, is that we are 100% capable of waking hollows up out of their stupor. Just like whisper can hollow them, he can unhollow people. Although its notably easier to hollow someone than it is to unhollow them.

Its why we don't like to do it. See... its has pretty hefty consequences. Let me show you what I'm talking about. We'll put ducking on the computer a moment and instruct him to type out, cheeseburger.

cheecheescheccheekmj

^And that is the result

Let me elaborate on what that is. Every time we tell Duckie to spell cheeseburger on the computer, he would type a handful of letters and then suddenly lose interest and start looking around the room. Then when we told him to do it again, he would start again and suddenly lose interest. And he did it several times.

We know he remembers doing it one or more of the other times because towards the end he got pissed and just slammed his fist into the keyboard and called it good like the classy son of a bitch he is.

Devil, being Duckie's sister, has not been taking this well. Apparently seeing him as a hollow wandering around with no memory was painful for her. I can only imagine how painful it is now to see him wandering around aimlessly as a near functional reminder of what shes lost.

So Duckie can't hold a thought longer then a few seconds at a time... more or less.

Interestingly enough though, hes still a very proficient killer. I think that's all instinct and muscle memory. He was very good at what he did before he bit the bullet and went all empty.

If I just point at something and tell him to kill it, he'll fucking gut them and rip them apart without any kind of hesitation. I had whisper wire him so he'll only listen to me.

This created an unanticipated consequence where he can't hear what anyone else is saying. Just me. He can hear sounds and shit as far as we can tell, just not people talking. He was always so literal...

We've also noticed an interesting phenomenon where Duckie will suddenly start crying at seemly random if you haven't interacted with him for more than like, a half an hour. And if you interact with him in anyway, waving or talking or something despite being unable to hear you, he'll suddenly stop. If you ask him why he was crying, he'll tell you:

"Was I?"

If you instead ask him what he feels he'll tell you:

"Cold... the fire is gone... everyone is gone..."

We're not sure what happens if you leave him alone longer than that. We can't get Jack to leave his side longer than that. Hes way up Duckies ass over the, 'Duckie saved my life thing'. They hold hands when they sleep. Its cute or something... or something.

One of the more interesting things to do is watch Duckie try to read. He really liked to read in life. Its something he can't quite seem to figure out in rebirth.

He'll read the first sentence and then stop, make a face, look at the cover of the book, and then read the first sentence. And he'll do that over and over again.

Apparently progress eventually gets made because I know hes spent all week getting three pages into his little book. I tried reading to him for a while but about five minutes in, after intense listening, Duckie would suddenly ask me:

"Oh hey, what are you reading?"

And then I would get frustrated and stomp out of the room, prompting Duckie to try to read the book I left behind by himself.

Its really quite pitiful.

Honestly not sure what caused this condition. It could have been the hollowing and unhollowing or it could have been the aneurysms being around Father gave him.

It is significantly less problematic than when we tried to unhollow the original Firecracker, the one Picasso got her title from.

 She couldn't figure out how to use door handles... or walk... or eat... and had to be told to breath every two seconds...

We put her back to sleep, the poor creature. Its funny that she knew how to use door nobs when she was hollowed the first time but can't now after she was woken up and re-hollowed. Very peculiar. 

Hmm...

Lets end this with a word from Duckie himself. Dictated but not read, of course.










"Sup, Ugly Fuck."

He turned to face me and gave me a vacant stare for a full minute before slugging me hard in the arm.

"Ow. Fuck. Still!?"

"Fuck face."

"And of course you remember that too."

"Its your name."

"My name is Fracture."

"Its Fuck Face. That's why everyone calls you Fuck Face, Fuck Face."

I just stood there for a full minute and stared him down as he stared back.

"Oh, hey Fracture. Where did you come from? Did you need something."

I sighed. Hes such a fucking asshole. "Hey Duckie. I just wanted to check up on you. How are you feeling?"

I watched him throw his weight back and the suddenly throw it forwards as he slammed his fist hard into my face.

To which I fell hard on my ass and rolled around nursing my nose until I could recompose myself and stand, where upon I snapped my nose back into place, which fucking hurt, and applied pressure in hopes that it might stop bleeding. "Care to try that again with fucking words this time?!"

"Try what again?"

"How are you feeling shithead?!"

"Oh. I can't complain... cold... still..."

"Wheres the fire gone?"

"... I.... lost it...?"

"How does that work?"

"I don't know... so lost... nothing to guide me..."

"Wh-" I didn't get to finish that thought before he slugged me in the shoulder again.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Fucking punching me."

"... How I greet you... something wrong with your memory?"

I swear to god it feels like hes faking it sometimes. "No, my memory is fine."

"If you say so. Sure sign of Father's love... lost memories..."

"How did you feel when you found out Father hated you."

"... Angry" he hissed. He gave me a glare I hadn't seen in a while. His truly terrifying death glare. Feels like hes looking through you. Like hes staring down something behind you and is ready to rip through you to get at whatever you've made the mistake of being in the way of. Gut wrenching shit.

"Was he worth dying over?"

He grinned and with a very confident and triumphant tone he said, "Yes."

"Would you do it again?"

"In a heartbeat."

"No regrets?"

"... I wish I had read more... and skinned Elaine slowly... when I had the chance."

"Why did you hate Elaine so much?"

"She was a whoring, self righteous, overbearing, hypocrite, with no defined purpose in life beyond escaping her own ill defined self induced torment slowing dragging down everyone around her to her own level."

"Confident words about a person you've never met."

"I can read," he hissed back at me.

"What makes you so much better than her?"

"I have purpose."

"What fucking purpose could you possibly have?"

"I will be immortal. My rage will out live me, burning on through the lives of all those whose livelihoods I set fire to and ruined. So to will it burn on through the lives they in turn ruin. The fire will guide them and they will burn with glorious light and ignite all those around them. My legacy will echo out endlessly through the ages and my Wrath will be E...."

He suddenly stopped and looked around confused. "Uh, your wrath will be...?"

"My Wrath is a Duck," he said with no small amount of inconfidence. I could see him trying to make sense of his surroundings. Like everything was suddenly wrong after his particularly long bout of coherent thought... if you can call that thought process coherent.

"... What?"

"I said I'm Duckie."

"Sure you did."

He growled in frustration and then socked me hard in the arm. "Don't fuck with me Fuck Face, my Wrath is Eternal."

I winced again. "I fucking know. You keep fucking telling me."

"Well good," he huffed, wandering off, "Don't you forget it."

"Fuck you, you stupid piece of shit... I'm not about to suddenly forget you. Quit giving me shit to remember and hate you by."

But of course, by the time I finished that thought he was already gone. Which was just as well. There's no point in wasting your sentiment on someone who won't be able to fucking remember it.

The Lord Guardian Fracture out.