Sunday, April 26, 2015

Back to Fucking Business

It's my turn to post, but there's not much to report. We already won. Right now we're just working on getting shit back to normal. Or as close to normal as you can get when you're involved with the Free Market.

Piper seems to be thriving as the leader of the Fire Cult, and I've been going and helping assert our authority (here meaning beating the fuck out of them in the training room) to help her out. It's incredibly satisfying, as you might guess. Talking to her is... odd. But good. I've gotten used to my silent Masks everywhere, and I got used to her as a Mask. But she's not at all shy to speak up now, and despite being so thoroughly a part of one cult before, I think fire suits her.

Duckie seems to be adjusting quite well to life beyond the grave. I like him a little more this time around. He seems to have mellowed a little. I still plan on avoiding him mostly. It's kind of creepy talking to a corpse. And honestly, he's still an asshole.

Speaking of assholes, Fracture continues to be the biggest shitstain I've ever seen. I don't know what fucked up game he's playing, but he keeps jerking us around and it's getting really old. I really hate that we have to keep him around, but there are some things he apparently does better than anyone else we have.

Hopefully, that's good enough. I'm not going to ramble about random crap that might be used against us just for the sake of a compelling post.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

The One I Left Behind

It was black and cold. Nothing to see in any direction. The black endless abyss. I knew, almost by instinct that I was not in the land of the living nor was I beyond the threshold of death. My body was real. I was certainly corporeal. This form was not a construct of my mind crafting a familiar shape for me to help me rationalize this place. I had flesh and a pulse. And yet here I was in this place clearly beyond the scope of the waking world of the living.

I skipped my first question. How didn't really matter. No, when you woke up in a situation like this... it was always the why of it that truly mattered. Not that I got to ask that question either before I was interrupted.

I felt something of small frame lean against my legs and let out a heavy sigh. "You know... I really wanted to meet you" said the apparently young girl. I could sense she was looking up at nothing when she said that. Felt her little head tilt back against the back of my kneel.

I didn't waste time standing there. After what I had done to this poor thing, I was hesitant to let it behind me, least it decide to suddenly lash out at me. So I spun around to face her... my poor departed daughter.

I don't know what it was. I should have been nicer. As her killer, you'd think I'd be the least I could do. But it seemed I was the one who was lashing out here. I guess I had been the only one given the opportunity in the land of the living. So in that way, it was fitting. "You didn't want to meet me. You just wanted to live."

She spun around when I spun around. She was short in all black with pale white skin. Short messy blond hair. Eyes with a blue so soft and light they mirrored the color of the sky. She had short little wings to her back but those wings looked like someone had taken a hammer to them and it clear by the desperate  crooked way they flapped that they could not carry her far. She would not be able to make the trip beyond this realm. She would have to return to the world I had ejected her from pre-maturely and suffer another life cycle if she ever hoped to get anywhere.

Its odd that I can remember he so vividly given that she gave me no real time to look at her before she snapped back at me. Perhaps its because I never got to meet her as a baby? In that respect, seeing her as the child she intended to become certainly was stunning. I can't say how I knew it was her without every looking. Given the strange nature of the place, maybe I just sort of felt it in the air. While I was corporeal, she wasn't. And spirits tend to bleed into those around them with no solid form to contain them... I guess.

When she spun around to face me, she crossed her arms and tucked those broken wings behind her giving me a cold glare. "Is that so wrong?" she asked with a transparent huff.

I stopped a moment. He words stung. I hadn't really given a second thought to justify getting rid of her in life. She was an obstacle. An issue on the horizon. An obligation that, if not snuffed in brief period, would have haunted me for 18 years or longer. I hadn't needed a reason to deny her life. It just made good sense.

I gave the only defense I could. The only thing I could think of in that moment. "It's certainly selfish," I finally retorted to her self-righteously with the vigor of a man who knew his bible.

But I feel she saw it coming because she was ready with a retort. "Must have gotten that from you."

I fell onto my back leg and looked around. I didn't want to be here anymore. This wasn't proving fun.

"You'll never escape me you know. I will find you back in that horrible place... if I have to wait a thousand cycles to do it, I will find you," she growled, yelling now and flying into my face faster than I realized those crooked wings could carry her. I knew she would have that time and given enough of it she would find me. I had no love for the peace that supposedly laid in wait for me beyond this place. As many cycles as I intended to ride out, if she was patient she would eventually find me.

Maybe I should have said something comforting or consoling. Maybe I should have apologized. But then again. She wasn't my daughter. Not really. I had seen that.

So I left her with this tidbit of wisdom... or... not really wisdom. Simple truth at best I guess.

And when I was done, I let myself fall back into the blackness of that inky abyss to return to the waking world I so loved. I had told her, 'Certainly not as my daughter you won't' with a jeer and snicker. A simple truth I'm sure she already knew deep down.

As I sunk deep into consciousness, I heard her get the last word on me. So petulant. She just had to have it... she was like her daddy in that sense I suppose.

It was so angry. It came in a booming growl. Certainly wasn't original. But then it still got the point across in that way, I suppose.

"So be it."

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Fucking Brilliant

The first thing you need to know is that the Fire Cult has been dealt with. They are all free to go about serving Father. We wanted nothing more than to make sure the Cult was functioning properly instead of wasting itself fighting a stupid pointless war against the rest of the free market, and that has been assured.

I've never been overly fond of Whisper, but I have to say he is damn effective.

But to keep this all in order, lets start from the top. Sloth told you all about how we captured Jen. I had a great team for that, I kind of wish I could keep Snips, Firecracker, and Ivan, they're good fighters and did a great job. Jack... well, he's a kid. He held his own about as well as could be hoped for. Taking her down was much easier than expected, honestly. A fire hydrant was almost too obvious, really. How else would you take down a Fire, right?

I think Sloth may be rubbing off on me a bit. Ignore the stupid joke.

Anyway, after we fucked Jen's shit up, we had a potentially bigger dilemma to deal with-the entire Fire Cult still rebellious and angry. Which is where my team and Whisper came in. Jack and Ivan stayed with Sloth and Jen's corpse, just in case, while I took Snips and Firecracker into the main part of their Loop. Our mission was to get to the intercom room, so that we could broadcast Whisper's orders to the entire Loop. As you probably know, no one can disobey Whisper. It's just not possible. Which is why I usually avoid him, but for this, it came in very handy.

Unfortunately for us, when we arrived in the kitchen, there were at least fifty of them outside of it, arguing about their next move. Which is where Snips and Firecracker really stepped up. Firecracker can use the weird Fire Cult powers, which meant she could both blend in and cause chaos that wasn't easily traceable. She did so, causing one hell of a distraction. Snips went with her to help fend off anyone who might try to follow me or attack Firecracker. I, meanwhile, went on to the intercom room, very grateful that in the Loop no matter what happened they'd pop right back up in the morning.

Once in the intercom room, all it took was a phone call and a pair of earplugs, and the entire Fire Cult was subject to Whisper's instructions while I was not. Once Sloth, Devil, and the others showed up to finish things off, I joined them in the main hall where the entire Fire Cult was gathered sulkily. They had to show up, they had to submit, but none of them were overly happy about it.

They were even less happy to see what happened next. Ivan had Jen's corpse, and Whisper was standing by. It didn't take much to revive her, and with Devil manning the fire extinguisher, Whisper dealt with Jen in front of the entire cult. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what he did to her, but I don't know that it much mattered. I think even our enemies can agree that a woman so consumed by her own petty grudge she abandoned her duty to pursue it isn't exactly much good as a leader or a proxy.

Also, Duckie is back. More or less. And he showed up to help with crowd control and to take people's oaths. I wish I had more to say on such an obviously big event, but the circumstances of his resurrection are both top secret and completely confusing to me. The more overtly supernatural stuff admittedly still evades me. Suffice it to say that he's back and as spirited as ever. Maybe he'll even come back to the blog? Fucked if I know. He and I have hated each other since before he died, so he's certainly not telling me his plans.

Mumbles, now Lord Piper the Inferno apparently, now leads the Fire Cult. I'm sure she'll be great at it, I had been planning on giving her my job at some point, but I think she's needed much more in the Fire Cult. As a result, until I find someone I trust to take over, I'm once again pulling double duty as bodyguard and leader of the Mask Cult. They're talented people, they don't need me hovering over them all day anyway.

In conclusion, the Fire Cult is back where it should be, we're all getting back to our real work, and fuck you, Red Bitch.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

You Were Warned

Do you know how hard it is to steal a loop?

For your average person impossible. For a crafter, its an impressive feat that would take nothing more than their absolute best to ensure no one noticed the think they were living in being pulled away, modified, and re-tethered.

For the guy who practically made that loop and knows its every in and out by heart, its practically nothing.

For the record its not my fault. She was given every warning to stop but she just had to press her luck. I patiently waited to see what verdict she would come to and when word caught me she had left the loop for her meeting, I knew I had my answer. With this, she left me no choice.

I mean, I can't just let the fire cult go. They're a Free Market asset and Icon. In many ways, they are the front-line of defense and we've been suffering without them. Even the mask cult can recognize that it needs the fire cult to function properly and those assholes hate each other with a fiery passion. So as soon a Jen left, I had Jon secure her loop. Anyone who tried to enter or exit the loop would find themselves in the Fire Market's training hall where we stood ready with 100 armed masks and proxies.

I stood in the front of the fire row, waiting. I offered every arrival a chance. Serve the new Fire Lord mumbles or perish. Regardless of what they chose (Most said they'd rather perish) I had them gunned down and collected in cells to be revived once the queen bitch had been handled. And of course and and her finest eventually showed up.

She didn't hesitate when she saw me. She took a moment to gauge her surroundings and letting out a deep huff she started blowing a torrent of intense flame out of mouth.

There was a torrent of bullets that didn't make it to her as she threw out her hand and stopped blowing fire towards me so she could focus on and bending bullets around herself.

Her finest goons looked to charge me, knowing full well that the Fire was protecting them from a hail of bullets, rush for me but were met with my own ambush forces. Nat, Jack, Ivan, Snips, and Firecracker sprang out from the cover our of the floor boards and started carving them up. Its worth noting that Snips and Firecracker were two of her best fighters before they defected in favor of my regime when she tried to secede.

"Traitors," she declared throwing out her other hand to spray forth a short wave of flames at my team as the moved it to surround her. Her facing shifting as she put me on the back burner for later and turned to face this new threat. As I anticipated, she had completely disregarded me as a threat in this fight. So while she was bending bullet paths and spewing flames the other way to keep everyone else back, I walked up and clubbed her in the back of the head with my trusty fire extinguisher. I didn't wait to for her to get a chance to respond. As she was opening her mouth to spew flames at me I had already drawn the fire extinguisher's hose and I stuffed her stupid mouth and face with foam. Didn't take long for her to choke on and kill over on it.

Nat didn't take any chances. She, Snips, and Jack more or less dismembered and disemboweled the Fire to make sure she was gonna stay down... excessive to say the least but I liked their enthusiasm.

Among those cut down we found someone who wasn't on the known fire cult roster. I'm gonna assume that miss 'Rainy day' that jokes was referencing in his post. We also found a magic black stick. I'm assuming its the artifact Cordelia gave the Fire. I can't be sure though because I'm not sure what it does. All I know is it burns like the fucking sun when ever Nat or I try to hold it. Mumbles can apparently pick the damn thing up just fine though which is weird. "Maybe its specifically warded so Nat and I can't hold it? Hard to say."

Now I just need to figure out what do with the Fire, our other fire cult captives, and how I'm gonna re-induct the fucking fire cult to our ranks. They're a rowdy bunch and they were gearing up for a war...

Might have to go nuclear if I'm gonna put them back in their place.


Sloth out.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Dumb Fucking Bitch

So, things just keep getting more ridiculous every time that stupid fire bitch opens her mouth. I don't even know. Apparently she's trying to turn the Fire Cult over to the Red Bitch? Wow. I thought she still had some kind of respect for fuckface, but I guess not. For someone who's supposed to be all cold logic and shit, she's sure damn willing to abandon logic, rationality, and loyalty to indulge in some stupid fucking grudge. 

I didn't know the fire cult stood primarily for selfish, petty wastes of time,energy, and life. Silly me, for thinking that a cult in such formerly high standing probably had some sort of honor or purpose. A dedication to Father, perhaps, instead of an insistence on driving His people against each other? Guess not. I guess Jen is a shallow, petty, worthless bitch and anyone who's stupid enough to follow her deserves their traitor's fate. I wonder how long before Father decides that the entire cult is no longer following His purposes and takes her down.

Honestly, though, don't expect to just waltz over and give someone outside the Free Market control over the Fire Cult. Did you really think it would be that simple? We'll be waiting.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Enemy of My Enemy

Dark times are upon us. For the moment, at least, I can feel my light waning.

Sloth found the Smith. A man of great unnatural skill and ability. Binder of Souls and Breather of Death. His every creation is an endless prison for those released of their mortal coil. I've no idea what monstrosity Sloth has used him to bring forth. From context I can tell he managed to bind someone long dead and as I understand it the Smith can only play with the recently departed.

How did Sloth know attempting such a doomed binding would work? He is not gifted like Smith and I. Nor blessed like Fracture. The weasel is swinging far above his belt and cementing his position. Can nothing stop that insufferable cockroach? Will nothing fell the Betrayer?

I sought to take his little toys away. They are not his to play with. They are Fracture's. And if anyone should be guiding the Smith as he forges his dark machinations, it should be the Fire. It is through the Fire we find passion and through the fire art's men find inspiration. The flame is the breath of all creation and his council should be with me, not with the roach.

But Moth, the unworthy wicker man, mask sympathizing filth that he is, managed to evade the efforts of my ambush party and as best that my scouts can tell is now well off the grid taking his undeserved life and his mind full of misappropriated secrets with him. My only solace is Sloth no longer as access to him and his vault of Fracture's apparently poorly kept secrets.

In response to the attack, the fools in the Free Market have warded their facilities. Nothing in and nothing out without someone's say so. It will take time to identify, find, and overtake which ever of their half-baked Crafters  is shielding them. John is undoubtedly maintaining the inside of the barrier. He is ever the hapless home body.

But any number of them could be playing door man from the outside. Devil, Whisper, Jack, or maybe someone new.... Em? Sloth has been quick with the Aces up his sleeves and I should explore all possibilities if I'm to turn this back in my favor.

It is unfortunate that my affront against Sloth's Free Market has been eating up so much of my time. I have not been able to give Fracture's little crusade the time it really deserves... and so I've come to a hard decision.

Sloth and Nat and to some degree even Fracture has been quite vocal of their distrust for the one they call 'the Red Witch' but I see opportunity. And so, especially in light of the sudden appearance of her blog, I'm reaching out to her.

Cordelia, from one red witch to another, I beseech thee. I've not the time to see to it that the Fire Cult carry out Father's will against the heathens that encroach upon what is rightfully His. My war against Sloth, though righteous and necessary in it's own right, is personal. Take my council and lead our people. Guide the Fire against the encroaching threat in my stead so that I may seek justice.

Hear my plea and know that Father wills it so.

Let us be united in these righteous causes.

Let the Fire guide you.

~The Lord Fire

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Counter Spell

“The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and 
vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?” 
-Edgar Allan Poe

I suppose if I had to guess myself, I would say its all a matter of impact. We are dead when we are no longer making one. It's funny to think there are some runners panicking about the dead and buried coming back to life. They should be more worried about the dead that fill most schools, houses, work places, and governments across the globe.

But hey, priorities. Personally, I would be more concerned about the living dying but I suppose that's impractical. I mean, you can definitely stop the dead from living. No doubt about it. But most can't stop the living from dying. And I hear even those who can have to take it case by case.

I'd prefer to make an impact before I die myself. At least then I can enjoy it. Can't imagine how much it must suck to truly start living in the wake of your passing. I can't imagine a greater hell really. That's like getting locked out of your own party and having to watch while you bang on the window in the middle of a roaring blizzard. Look at all the fun and recognition you /could/ have enjoyed. Dreadful.

Poor Emily Dickinson. In that regard, it is more or less disrespectful to study her now? Are we keeping her legacy alive or are torturing the poor girl with all the recognition and appreciation she was long deprived of in life and can't enjoy now?

When did necromancy get so hard? 

Segue. Sloth here, by the way.


"What in the Devil are /you/ doing here ya miserable worm. 
I thought we had an agreement."

"I'm afraid the old agreement is null and void now.
We're under new management, and that new
 management is me. I own you now."

"By the Demon, Fracture's dead? Did ya finally kill him ya
rat bastard? Ya did didn't ya?! Put steel right in
in his back when he wasn't looking, didn't ya?!"

"Well, yes and no. No and Yes? One of those two.
Hes not dead after all, but I did betray him"

"Then where in the bloody hell is he then, eh?"

"Hes retired. Left me everything. Project phoenix and all.
And as a subject of project phoenix, that means you're
mine now."

"The hell I am. After what you did to me and my kin ya
should be so lucky I'm not driving this hammer into ya
pisser and crushing your berries."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Settle down. Put the hammer back on
the table... like I said, your old contract is void now so I'm
here to negotiate a new one between you and me."

"And just why should I do that? If the old agreement is through,
give them back to me and let me go home."

"You know damn well you don't have a home anymore."

"You saw to that, ya monster."

"And I can see to worse if don't settle the fuck down."


"That's what I thought. How would you like to see her again,
Smith? I think you're long over due a reunion."

"R-Really? What about the boy"

"I keep the boy. Same as last time, hes collateral. But I don't
 really need both of them as collateral now do I?"


"You accept? We're in a hurry here."

"Fine. Let me see her."

"When we're done. I need you to make something for me."

"From who?"


"That's not possible. Its been far to long. You know that
better than anyone."

"It'll work, trust me."

"The hell it will. You better not keep her from me when it doesn't."

"I won't. Just do it."

"Fine, ya stubborn daft asshole."

"You really should sit down for this."

"As if- Hhhrrrrk"

"Ow. That looked like it hurt."

"Wh-what... how... dear Demon the back of my bloody head."

"Yeah... told you so. Get to work. We don't have long."

"Long til what?"




"This is it?"


"Should have figured it'd come out a mask. You wear something
so long it's like it's a part of you."

"I prefer not to think of my agony as a part of me."

"I prefer to be beautiful. We don't always get what we want do we?"

"We certainly don't."

"Thanks. Whats it do?"

"Fuck if I know. Ya, wanted it and ya got it. Now give me whats mine."

"Fine. I'll go get her. Try not to be too disappointed."

"Disappointed in what? What did ya do ya piece of shit?! Answer me!"

"You know damn well what I did. Its the long term consequences of 
what I did that you don't know about."

"You son of a bitch, what happened?!"

"Later Smith."

"If you hurt my Gail I'm gonna kill you, ya sack of shit! You hear me!
The next totem will be yours!"

About 10 mintues later I came back into the room pulling the girl in behind me. I dumped her onto the floor for him to cry over.


"See, shes fine."

He curled up into the fetal position with her, rocking her ever so gently.

"Speak to me baby girl! What the fucks wrong with her?!"

"Shes comatose. She has been for a long time. She did not take the skinning well."

"You fuckers. When were ya gonna tell me?!"

"If Fracture had his way, never. He thought it would be bad for
productivity. Call me a sentimental fool but I thought you
deserved to know."

"It's okay baby. Daddy's here Gail. Daddies here now."

She stroked her hair and held her tight, desperate for her to do or say anything at all but she just stared blankly into the wall before her. As she has for well over 4  years now. This world has been too much for her to bare for a long time now. And not even the desperate cries of her Father could bring poor Abigail back. I was hoping it would put some spark back into those dead eyes but it didn't. Shes as far away from him in this room now as she was when we were hiding her down the hall.

"Well, that's touching or something but I have things to do.
You need anything?"

"Yes," he whimpered out, sobbing now.

"Anything I can actually get you?"

He just shook his head and wept into his daughter's shoulder.

"See you around."
And I just kind of left him to that. Work to do and all...

I have Smith now, Fire. I'm gonna snap that pretty little neck of yours and have you made into a torch.

Your move bitch.

Sloth out.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

I fucking hate blogging

But shit still has to get put up and it's my turn, apparently. I don't know why we bother with all of this, when we've got other, more important shit to do. And we have a lot of more important shit to do now. We're not in crisis mode or anything, but reshuffling is tedious, time consuming work, and we've got fucking scavengers sniffing around trying to get in and screw things up while we're disorganized.

Funny thing about the Fire Cult leaving, they were the ones we used to deal with other Fear cults. Now that they're gone and apparently no longer doing their jobs, the Timberwolves are getting ballsy. If you're in New Mexico or west Texas, you might want to keep a wary eye out for suspicious looking bikers, the place is crawling with them. We're working on taking them down to make the area safe for our operations again, we have more than enough Masks to divert some to the task, but the simple fact of the matter is that right now organization is not our strong suit.

The bitch from Vegas who's been sniffing around lately has been offering her help very sweetly, but we continue to politely refuse. We don't need help, especially from someone so likely to helpfully put a knife in our backs while she's at it. She can play helpful, she can act friendly, but one cunt always recognizes another, and that one is nothing but bad news for us, I can tell. I don't trust her, Sloth doesn't trust her, and neither should any of you.

In any event, my Masks are kicking ass and taking names, so we don't even need the aid. Until the next time they decide I need to update this stupid thing, adios.

Monday, January 19, 2015

I Would Find a Way

I woke up coughing. The ash was so thick in the air I could barely breath and I only kicked more of it up as I staggered quickly to my feet. It was Dark. The moon was high. A bright eerie red. An ominous harvest moon if I'd ever saw one casting a dim red light on everything.

It looked like I was in a city or a town of some kind. Burned, soot covered buildings surrounded me in a mixed state of disrepair. Many of them had trees growing through the wall. If there was any grass, or moss, or life around me, I would have thought the wilderness reclaiming this place and Nature, and the lack of any kind of maintenance, was tearing it down.

But everything looked so dead. Between the persistent coat of ash and dead leaves. Even the the leaves that still firmly stood on the tree looked  black, yet not withered. Every minute or so I stood staring at them another leaf would fall. How long had they been like that? Couldn't have been long. It had to run out of leaves eventually.

'What have I become?'

On building in particular caught my eye. Maybe it was because of how much shorter than the other ones it was. Maybe it was because it wasn't quite as trashed as the other ones. Or the fact that the ash stopped just at the door like someone had been sweeping it out. Could have been the flicker of light I saw dance across the doorway ever so faintly. The sign that said 'The Hall' across the font of it. Maybe it was the mutilated bodies impaled on various things that only seemed to be decorating this particular building. Or the other sign with an arrow pointing in.

'My sweetest Friend.'

No... I think it was the singing.

Everything was suspicious. Too loud... too obvious... practically screaming 'this is a trap'. But that tired voice... It called to me. That... and the sensation of skin tearing away as the wind violently picked up and blew ash, leaves, and dust at me in turbulent speeds.

I through hand over my mouth and nose to keep myself from inhaling it and ran as fast as I could for 'the Hall' to escape the sudden ash storm.

 'Everyone I Know'

I was surprised how clean it was inside the Hall. No ash. No dust... only occasional leaves. Storm was trying it's damnedest to blow ash into the building but it seems to part ways just before the door's threshold. I could hear laughing and talking. Cheers of joy and the sound of something breaking. The area five feet from the door was well lit and warm. I turned the corning to find the hallway opened up to a massive hall... bigger than it should have been by twice as much at least. And it was filled with people. Some masked... some not.

 'Goes away, In the End'

Some I even recognized. Loveless, the highest I helped Fracture kill. Duckie. Navi's father Draydel. Spencer. Doc. Morningstar. Not just proxies though. Runners too. Zero, Robert, and Zeke. They all sat at different tables scattered across the entire hall with many others. They were fighting, eating, drinking, laughing, and some even Napping along side each other under the gentle glow of the many torches that rested far overhead.. Each of them looking exhausted and bettered. Each with new bruises, cuts, and scars that I did not recognize as having been there before they died.... new wounds?

I knew to avoid my old acquaintances... most people I've met tend to hold a grudge... really couldn't be helped in most cases. So I snuck over to Zero's table. His was the closest and I always wanted to meet him. I came up behind him and gently reached a hand over to him so I could get his attention but he turned to ash under my palm... and then the torch over head went out and everyone else at the table disappeared too...

I panicked a little and run over for Draydel. Sure he knew me but we had left things on good terms... he might even dare to call himself my friend. I stopped hurriedly behind him, almost slamming into him, and brought a hand down sharply on his shoulder and grasped as he puffed into ash. I opened my hand to find it full of ash... and then once more the torch overhead went out and everyone at the table disappeared with it.

'And you could have It All!'

I looked up to find everyone else in the Hall was starting at me know. Most of then turned to ash as the torches over their heads went out one by one as everyone shouted at me in pain, anger, and outrage. I stared as the last torched went out and everything went pitch black at me... for a moment there was only that silence. That loud, high pitched silence that echoes against the nothing all around you. The quiet screams of darkness ringing in my ear to tell me nothing was there and I was truly along. I wished I wasn't.

That was a mistake. I heard the sound of a match striking against a table and a small dim little light appeared a few feet from him and slowly rose, revealing a the masked figure in front of me.

"Ducke?" I asked just as the light ignited into a full flame, revealing the torch in Duckie's hand... and the dozens of people behind and beside him... and the slowly march on me.

I recognized most of them. Some I had shot. Some I had stabbed. Some I had intentionally fed bad intel to or sent on suicide missions without briefing the stakes to really telling them what they were supposed to be doing... most I had left for head at one point or another... and they slowly came within 10 feet of me.

"Sloth~" one of them sang in a fanciful rhythm as as I started to back up from the approaching mob.

'My Empire of Dirt'

I backed up to until I felt something against me, as the mob fanned out around me keeping a five foot spread from me in all directions. Some of them throwing shoes, and stones, and balled up pieces of cloth, and food.

Why had they stopped?

And then I heard the song continue you behind me just overhead.

'I will let You down'

I turned and looked up to realized I had backed up into the tree that sat at the fall end of the great hall. It was tall and it branched off at the base of it's trunk into five separate curved trunks that went out and then back in ending at points like five big fingers to one set of claws. This tree in particular was still coated in leaves, though all of them were black just the same. And the middle curved trunk had steps curved into it. At the end of those steps sat a bed of leaves and branches in roughly the shape of chair. Upon this magnificent throne sat Johnny Cash, dressed in all black wearing a black cowboy hat, boots, and a white labcoat strumming on a warped, bent, guitar made of rotting wood with long locks of hair for strings. His hands were oozing a red goo... blood? The air tasted like blood.

'I will make You Hurt' 

He sang as he stood up and tossed me this gross blood soaked guitar... and I reached out and caught it. It felt like mush in my hands... like it might snap in two or fall apart at any moment. And Johnny Cash tipped his hat down and gave a little bow before throwing his coat tail out and catching it in his hand as he turned, disappearing at the end of the motion. And as he turned to disappear his hat and labcoat shed to ash. Alone I looked down at myself and realized I was in a labcoat. I looked up and realized I was in a cowboy hat.

I turned to face the endless crowd of my enemies and gently strummed the guitar's cord and sang.

'If I could Start again.' 

With every cord I strummed and under the echo of my voice, one by one my old enemies, the poor souls I had hurt and abandoned, souls that had depended on and trusted me, slowly turned away and began to walk away. And one by one as they got far enough away from the torch, the returned to ash and disappeared into the air until only Duckie remained. 

I watched the bullet hole Fracture had put in Duckie's head slowly formed and began to rain blood and pus... and he started to dance in a circle, swinging the light around him self to show off it's beautiful glow before he finally stopped and blew out the torch, puffing out into ash... at long last he had his beautiful death...

And I was all alone in this great big hall that had once been filled with such light and life... now as cold, empty, and barren as the rest of the world around me... as the world I had come from.

'A million miles away'

Minutes passed in slow eternity and I slowly become comfortable with the dark and got use to the gentle chill of this lonely empty place. I mindlessly and gently strummed on through it letting out my beautiful melody... for no one in particular as the roof over my head slowly shook and crumbled overhead, raining debris around me until ceiling was gone and the bright red light of the moon shone down on me.

And in that light new figures appeared around me. All masked and all glaring. Standing out in front of them was a women in all red with a pointy red hat. She snapped her finger and pointed and the old guitar in hand snapped into twenty different pieces and crumbled to the ground. She laughed and pointed down at the ground. One word to carry all she meant to say.


I shook my head and plugged at my hair, and defiantly continued my song.

'I would Keep Myself'

She laughed and rolled her eyes and waved her men to take care of me for her, all of them rushing past her to tackle me to the ground. And with each strum, one of two of them fell away into dust but before long then were upon me. They grabbed me by my wrists and hair and wrestled me to the ground, holding me still as I cussed and screamed for help. Over stepped the red women, leaning over me with a bright knowing grind.

I cried out for anyone I could think of and pleaded, no, begged for help. And as if answering that call many of the old faces I had run off appeared around me. All of them leaned overhead like the women and stared down at me. I reached out for them. Begged for them to help me stop her. But they shoot their heads as wide Cheshire smiles spread across their faces.

They lunged out at me, placing hands across my body and holding me perfectly still as the Women produced at knife. And slowly, for what felt like an eternity, she brought the knife closer and closer and closer down to my neck and gently nipped at my throat... standing up and walking away as I coughed and squeezed desperately for air struggling like a fish out of water to get free to save myself but powerless under the weight of a thousand onlooking old grudges and they slowly pressed harder and harder into me, squeezing the life out as the world went black to the sound of my whimpered, hushed gasps for a salvation that would never find me...

As my mind fell into the cold, ashy, empty, blackness, the only world I had ever truly known, I couldn't help but smirk. Seems no matter where you go or what you do... you always end up home.

Like this was the only way it could have been.

"Could there really have been no other end?"

I asked as I sat up in bed and was quickly booted out by a punch to the kidney... seems I dream to loud...

Sloth out.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Fucking Cowardly Deserters

So, I don't think I mentioned this before in light of how I thought the fire bitch wouldn't be so fucking dumb as to actually follow through with the mutiny, but a lot of our people left with her. Devil mentioned that. I was pretty fucking mad to discover this, because a good portion of the ones that left were my people.

Granted, they haven't been mine for very long, and Masks are about as hard to bond with as you might expect they would be, but I was pretty sure that at least the majority of them had really started to respect me. I guess some of them do, there are still some left. But some of the ones I thought I could trust are gone, and that's really fucking annoying. Especially since at least some of those fuckers are the same assholes who threw fits when Moth decided to break his vows. But breaking their own vows to go hang out with a defecting cult, that's apparently juuuust fucking fine. Hypocrites.

The fire cultists that stayed... well, they're an interesting lot. Not really my area, none of them have any particular interest in becoming a Mask as far as I know. But it's nice to know that not all fire cultists are two faced backstabbing idiots, at least. And honestly, we'd be pretty understaffed without them.

As for Mumbles, who Devil mentioned, she is actually getting a promotion in duties as well as in title. There's a lot of higher level duties she can't do by virtue of not being able to talk because of his vows. But I have made her my lieutenant, more or less. Not talking is actually helpful when dealing with Masks, and I've given her the task of matching Masks to tasks and helping settle any issues among them, that sort of thing. I like her, she's proven trustworthy on multiple occasions now, and I feel like I should encourage that. The only problem there is that I'm not entirely sure she wanted the promotion. I'm hoping if she doesn't, she'll find a way to let me know she wants to go back to the way things were before.

Friday, January 2, 2015

the Righteous Side of Hell

Its gone missing. Completely disappeared.

Hello. Devil here. The Lord Devil Siera, I guess. Or just Siera. Details.

We've lost the fire cult. Nat neglected to mention that last part. Their cult use to make up a fourth of the Free Market's internal infrastructure between their training grounds, cages, dorms, offices, and shrines.

But immediately after the Fire's post that entire wing, the south wing, disappeared. It looks like someone literally ripped the building in two there and took the other half. The hallway just stops and is lined with ash and char marks. Beyond that line of char is just infinite blackness. An open void like vacuum. If this was real space and not a loop, such a vacuum would have caused the rest of the compound to decompress and implode.

Thank god for fucked up bullshit right?

We uh... we have no idea what might happen to someone who fell out into that vacuum. I've heard Fracture theorize that people who fall into the blank space of a loop are either lost there forever or eventually fall into another dimension, like the Path of Black Leaves or into the Quiet.

We uh... have put up a tarp... problem solved.

We've received a small flux in fire cultists that have decided to abandon the cult in response to the Fire's new direction for them. Nat, however, doesn't trust them. So they aren't allowed in the loop. So I'm adopting them into my ground operations. Fire cult trained personal are too valuable to pass up at any risk.

They, like all other non-mask proxies are experiencing under my care, will be enrolled into the sentinel program and be assigned runners to protect.

This influx is no where near as big as the influx of Masks we lost when she left. Roughly a third of all of Nat's Masks have abandoned their posts and forsaken their vows to sign up with the Fire cult and join the offensive to oust Sloth from power with every intent to see him murdered in the process.

One of which was actually one of Sloth's body guards and ran at him with a knife and tried to push him into the Path of Black Leaves where his death would have been very permanent. He was fortunate that his other body guard, another mask named mumbles, stayed loyal and put the first one down.

In honor of Mumbles great deeds, Sloth has promoted mumbles to be on par with both myself and Nat in rank in what he only described to be 'reasons'.

So this post stands in dedication to our new CEO Lord!

All hail Lord Inferno Mumbles, who presumably was named in an effort to undermine the Fire's title.

Lord Inferno, of course, as no current responsibilities as the wing of the Free Market he would be reining over right now is currently missing. As best that I can tell, he is still just a body guard.

Hurray for fake promotions!

The Lord Devil Siera out!