Happy Birthday to Me

I'm... What. 26 now? I mean I did DIE... So does that, like... Start the counting process all over again? Can we get a ruling on that? Am I actually a 5 year old now?

Huh. That would also make my new Birthday in January. Rebirthday?

I have this fucking debate for the past 5 years and I STILL can't make up my mind about it. This IS the first year I've spent my original birthday outside of the United States though. Would try to get the locals to sing me a song, but most of them don't know English. Which complicates matters. Also they hate me, though that isn't new when it comes to Birthdays. But it is GOOD. Best present I could ask for, really, not that I particularly GET why they hated me so INSTANTLY. Didn't even have to try, to piss them off. Heheheh. Whatever.

Tried out a thing, though, to celebrate. Made a Birthday cake, and laced the icing, and Candles, with NITRO. AND BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. I am a SHITTY cook. SHIT. It wouldn't have been a good cake anyway, so this isn't a waste. We did have this guy though. Not a Runner, but we had him for leverage with someone, for some stupid reason. Organization politics, blah-blah-blah, boring. Name is Sivakov or Sivokov or something. I dunno, I don't care. Point is, he outlived his usefulness to us, so I made him a deal. We would let him go, if he did one, simple, little thing.

Heheheheh.

So. I've never actually USED Nitroglycerin like this before. I had NO idea how much would be enough. Turns out... I low-balled it a bit. He lit the candle, and BOOM. Explosion. It was GREAT, he went FLYING...

But he didn't die. Fucked up his face, and most of his body, though. So that was a bit disappointing.

Still. Man of my word. He was FREE to go. And go he WENT. To a Hospital, I think, where he will hopefully die after a long, painful, process of trying to save his worthless, pathetic, life. Or he'll be left a scarred, hopefully crippled, wreck of a human being for the remainder of his sad, sad, days.

You know. I suddenly feel a lot better now.

Lot of work ahead of me. Meeting with people to discuss THINGS. A week, and we've been unable to really pick up the trail for Loreid, but we DO know he is clearly working with YET ANOTHER FUCKING TRAITOR PROXY. We don't know WHO. Why don't know why. But SOMEONE who knows both our passwords and OPERATING PROCEDURES, has gone to GREAT LENGTHS to delete most of the shit we know about Loreid. AND BURNED THE HARD COPIES FOR GOOD MEASURE. YES they had security cameras. No. The footage was not there to be recovered. Fucking traitor FUCKS.

Gonna make an example out of this one... Fuck them up REAL good and taxidermy what is left. Send it around to other offices... Remind people about the benefits of fucking LOYALTY. A commodity oh so FUCKING RARE these days. Ugh.

AND NOW I'M IN A BAD MOOD AGAIN. FUCK. Fuck it. 

Europe

What a shitshow.

So, we arrived in Europe a few days ago. Met with the local filth and finally found someone who could translate this fucking moon-speak. And we were off to where Playwright was killed, and where we lost our little trinket. An old Castle, or what was left of it, off in the woods in North Poland. I don't know the full history of the place. It got ruined sometime in the 1800s, and we have been using it ever since for matters I also can't talk about. Castle's last master, before us, was some Prussian guy who was a member of the Order of the Black Eagle. He was also an alchemist, occultist and very much aware of the world's many, many, secrets.

But he wasn't one of us, so... His knowledge didn't exactly bring him a happy fate. Heheheh.

While the above-ground portions of the castle were pretty much just ruins, a lot of the subterranean infrastructure is still pretty sturdy. Apparently our people have been keeping the non-collapsed portions in pretty decent shape for the past 200 years. Neat little museum, all in all. Even has a legitimate dungeon and torture chamber. I respect that. And there were a few little antique instruments in there I wouldn't have minded playing with... But I admit. The modern setup I have back home is much more effective, in general.

Though there is something... Special about the idea of torturing a person down in a darkness that has seen so MANY beautiful tragedies over the centuries. The history lends a feeling I just can't imitate back home, even down in the Catacombs. I could make the Catacombs more... Crumbly and archaic seeming... But there is just something about the feel of the Castle. Its indescribable. The suffering of ages infused into the very darkness of the halls. Drinking that shit in was INTOXICATING.

My BELOVED Non-Traitorous brethren didn't seem to share my opinion of the place though. They don't like being in the underground. Heheheh. They were so fucking on edge the whole time. Like they expected a monster to jump out of the dark and tear their throats out, or something. And I don't know why. I mean. I was right beside them the whole time. Heheh. Ah... But apparently the lack of anyone brave enough to keep an eye on the underground gave Mr. Loreid his window of opportunity to sneak in. Apparently Playwright followed, but didn't call for enough backup.

I'll give Loreid this much. He did a HELL of a job killing Playwright. They showed me the bodies, and MAN were they not in good shape. Playwright was basically salami by the end. Which, to be frank, makes me think Mr. Loreid is not working all by his lonesome. His file speaks of formerly timid anthropologist. His repeated dealings with Playwright and others have apparently hardened him a good bit... But this? This doesn't seem quite right.

In any event, after dealing with Playwright, Loreid grabbed the I-know-what and fucked off. And fortunately, or SO I THOUGHT, the Euro-boys had picked up the trail. Turns out, he found one of OUR safehouses in the area. An old Cabin. Good for privacy, be it for recuperation without fear of Runners hunting us down, or for fun times with captured targets. Apparently no one had actually used it, or CHECKED ON IT, for a few months.

Well... We didn't waste any time heading up there and kicking the door in.

I was hasty, in hindsight, and got a face full of FUCKING FIRE for my troubles. And Loreid WASN'T EVEN THERE. He just rigged the place with a BOMB, for when the door was kicked open. NO CASUALTIES except for my cheerful demeanor for the rest of the day... And all the information in the building that MIGHT have been helpful, went up in FLAME. 

This brings up a question. Where the HELL did he get a bomb from? What the HELL is with Europe Division? I thought AMERICA was supposed to be the gun crazy place, you know? But even the LEAST experienced of the family here are ARMED TO THE TEETH, WITH MILITARY SHIT. And the Runners are apparently MUCH THE SAME half the time...

RIGHT. Well... We have NO IDEA where Loreid went, but we'll find the trail sooner or later. Gonna have to TALK to people, be social, you know... Figure out how the hell he found that safehouse... Spinner can take care of that. Should have probably brought Mumbles too... Might have been helpful for what is coming, but... Eh. Whatever. I am more than enough. More than more than enough, really, but they tell me humility is a virtue or something...

Well. Best I get prepared for the comments from the peanut gallery. Miss you Doctor Spookypants. You only commented once but you are now my favorite by default. You and your stylish, STYLISH, attire... Lets see... Kelly, you can go fuck yourself. And if not, hopefully the Russian guy can go do it for you.

Alpha Bitch and your little puppies. Are you enjoying your freedom? Lets hope so. It won't last. Related question, what is your favorite feature on Kristy? Physically speaking, we all know there is NOT much to like about her personality. Well... I take that back. You had to like the personality, considering you spent all that time constructing it. Building your own, not-so-sweet, little dolly. How precious. Gotta say, brainwashing her like that and then having a relationship. Old Man Banks would be so proud. Though... I doubt the you that started this little journey of yours would quite agree. Heheheh.

Lastly... Sanna. Speaking of dollies, I really would have expected you to have been patched up just a BIT better by now. Most people can recover a bit from trauma, but I guess you are just too damn weak. Curious question. Been wondering. Have you ever gone back to that place? You know the one. Where you, me, and those poor innocent people you had killed got to know each other so well? Might be good therapy for you. Help you orient your mind a bit better. See where you actually stand now. Might even be some... Presents left there for you. Aren't I a thoughtful friend?

AND IT KEEPS PILING UP

HERE I AM. TRYING TO PLOT THE DEATHS OF (largely) A FRIGGING HORDE OF TRAITORS. A TASK THAT MIGHT PROVE REAL FUCKING CHALLENGING, AND NOW. NOW of ALL TIMES. They decide I am needed for a thing. One of the Runners that was smart enough never to go on the blogs, but not skilled enough to stay off of our radars, went and did a thing that merits my involvement.

I love the idiots who think that they can science their way out of becoming another one of Father's victims. No matter how far outside the box they believe they are thinking, it is never enough. They look forward, but never far enough backwards. To see how generations of humans, less bound to logic and established methods, tried to deal with the inescapable terror that haunted them even then. Of course, there are no easy or concrete solutions, no matter how far back you look. But there have been, I admit, some damn good ideas. Ideas best left buried.

But it seems now a fellow has come close to digging something up. Alexandre Loreid, formerly a professor of anthropology at some University from somewhere. I don't really give a shit, because he has been running for 13 years now, and apparently anyone I might be able to use from his past is already long dead. Loreid has even picked up his own obsessed Proxy nemesis. Because that shit ALWAYS works well for us, right? Said nemesis was a guy named “Playwright.” I know FUCK ALL about Playwright, but he is apparently DEAD NOW. Killed in a struggle with Loreid. After said struggle, Loreid apparently found something I am NOT allowed to really discuss on here, at the moment. And I have been ordered to see that it goes back to where it belongs.

By prying it from Loreid's cold, dead, severed and mutilated, hands.

Now, this may surprise you, but I have MANY QUESTIONS that have not been answered. The thing I am not allowed to talk about, is something I know fuck all about. I don't even know why this asshole taking it would necessitate someone like ME jumping in. I also don't know the specifics of Playwright's death, which feels like useful information to me. I don't know if Loreid is working solo, or in a group. What little information we have in the file, doesn't tell me much about him personally. Just that Playwright already used up the “Friends and Family” card.

Oh. And I don't know where the fucker actually is specifically. Just that it is Europe, which begs the question of why the European Proxies aren't handling this. Playwright died in North Poland, near the Baltic Sea. Which DOES NOT NARROW IT DOWN MUCH. So I am ASSUMING Loreid isn't sticking around where Playwright died. Did I mention I don't speak Polish? Or German? Or any language that isn't English or VERY dead.

This is gonna be an exercise in frustration...

But I suppose I had to go to Europe anyway. Needed to see a man about a Mummy. Think it could teach me a LOT of important facts about important things.

Jimmy can hold down the fort while I am gone. I think. My secretaries don't often do good without me, for some reason. Really need to learn some independence, instead of relying on me for all their food and water. HOPEFULLY fucking Jimmy won't be DEAD when I get back like the others. I will be SO disappointed. I might fire him. I employed him. I TOOK THAT BULLET. Better not be for nothing...

But don't think I've forgotten about the Canadian problem. Already have a few good plans to deal with that lot. Just a matter of implementing. And finding the time to do so... Heheheheh. Curious, can our Pack of Now-Wild Dogs figure out my strategies? Ask yourselves... What would you do in my position? Get CREATIVE. Know your weaknesses, both physically and mentally. Especially mentally.

It won't help.

Oh, I will probably also briefly stop by the the soggy, depressing, corpse of the British Empire. See if I can pick up Sanna's scent, for later. That might be fun.

On the Subject of Traitors

I GET IT. I really do. This is a hard, unpleasant life. And a lot of good Chosen, Proxies, have decided that they are on the wrong side of things. I WAS ONE OF THEM. For a brief, brief time. Nightscream did it. Reach did it. Both Redlights did it, though more Spencer than the other guy. Tensor did it, but Tensor was an idiot. And now... The Wolf Pack has gone rogue. But you know what REALLY SUCKS about that situation? It isn't their fucking fault. Its like... They've been kicked out of the Family. And why? Really, WHY? I know Father doesn't have to tell us ANYTHING, and he normally doesn't. We are his tools, to use and discard as he sees fit. But the Pack were REALLY good tools. And they just got their deadliest weapon back, at the cost of their least deadly. IT IS AN OPPORTUNITY. AGH. SO I JUST DON'T GET WHY THEY'VE BEEN KICKED OUT.

Frustrating. REALLY frustrating. Agh.

Fucking Jimmy had no answers. Idiot barely seemed to know what I was talking about. So FUCKING unprofessional. I shouldn't have to explain the fucking JOB, the LIFE and my fellow Chosen to MY OWN SECRETARY. Useless idiot. Should have caved his skull in with that waffle maker thing. I might if he complains about a headache when he wakes up. NOTHING HE IS EXPERIENCING IS WORSE THAN WHAT I HAVE TO GO THROUGH, WORKING WITH HIM EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. That I am here, that is. Thinking of taking a trip to foreign soil. Meet my international brothers and sisters. See how their shit works. Or doesn't, more than likely. But maybe they at least HAVE SECRETARIES WORTH A DAMN.

Fuckers. AGH. Just why does this shit not make itself easy. It should be fucking easy. There is OUR SIDE and THE DEAD SIDE. Not everyone gets the choice, but no one should choose the DEAD SIDE. Stupid, fucking STUPID. Wasteful even. Why couldn't it be the USELESS ones. Or the ones like Banks. GAH. Should have fucking found that birdbrained fucker and stopped this shit from happening in the first place. Or properly performed the fucking ritual in his place. Playing with forces beyond your understanding is NEVER a smart thing to do... So fuck, maybe he didn't goddamn know what the hell he was really doing. Useless IDIOT. So why not punish HIM.

Whatever. Fuck it. There are consequences for leaving the family. I faced them, and so did all the others in the end. This time will be no different, but maybe, JUST maybe, if I get my way... I can at least ensure they will live to regret their actions. I mean. The broken one was broken into joining our family. Shouldn't be too hard to repeat the process, if I have to. Heheh. I have the tools. The other one hasn't been broken, but was always the more squeamish by all accounts. Ugh. What a waste. Fucking waste.

Didn't expect this when I started this new little diary blog. I mean, yeah. I knew there were a few people still active. Thought it might be fun to see their inane little comments on my true, REAL thoughts. Well. No more of that. Time to begin dealing with the last of the blogging crowd. Turn this into a real proper Gravestone for this sorry affair. Heheheheh.