Late, I know

I've been busy, what do you want from me...

SO. Promised details about my little trip to College, and the things I found down there. To reiterate some shit, I knew about this college thanks to some dumbass student who became a runner a few years back. Found the blog, trolled him a little bit, found about Spinner and then I presume the kid fucking died or something.

That tends to happen.

ANYWAY, when planning a visit to a compound full of, presumably, people who wouldn't be terribly happy to see me, it is usually a good idea to take the subtle approach to things. Be SNEAKY. So I made sure I only went wandering around the place under cover of night. The underground... Temple thing... Could provide good shelter for when the students are up and about. Had a pretty good idea of where to find an entrance thanks to good old Jeremy there. Plan was to snoop around the ruins, then take a look inside Tommy Corvin's house.

It went... Okay. Arrived as expected, it was dark, the students were asleep, Campus Security was, as always, a joke. And then I noticed that not all the students were in bed. A few were creeping around the buildings, drawing shit on walls. You see this occasionally with Runners. That fever-pitch desire to put the shit floating around their brains onto something more permanent than thought. Makes them feel less crazy. Permanency is a calming concept, you know? Heheheheh. Idiots. Thing is, though, most of these morons looked like they were just drawing shit from memory, rather than active thought. Slower, more deliberate, pondering, trying to remember a detail here or there... These weren't runners. They weren't one of us, either. No, this is a fucking know-nothing Occultist Cult. The dead idiot kid mentioned them acting as a fraternity at the College, under Corvin's control. Pathetic. He even named them Timberwolves, to try and get the attention of the ACTUAL Timberwolves. Which... Considering those jackasses are probably the weakest overall true Cult, is not the worst play for someone trying to get involved in this shit. But, from what I can tell, no one is actually taking the bait here. Corvin is apparently so fucking uninteresting that not a single one of the Great Ones is bothering to go haunt him, no matter how hard he tries.

I love it. Isn't life so fucking FAIR? Heheheheheh. All these Runners out there who want NOTHING more than to be free to live their pathetic little lives in peace, who never asked to be hunted... And here we have a guy LOOKING to get haunted, but fucking can't. Fucking GOLDEN.

ANYHOO. So these idiots were plastering shit on the walls, and didn't really notice me up until the point that they did. Well. One did. Assumed I was a student out of bed, so he tried to start something. What he lacked for in judgment, he made up for in Taste. Boy must have had a rich diet. So after that, I made it to the Auditorium building, broke the lock, and strolled inside to find the passage downstairs.

Now I'm going to let you in on a little secret. The ruins beneath this school are old as dirt. Older than European Colonization of North America. But the Native Americans, especially around these parts, could NEVER make a structure like that with the tools they had available. So who built it? Ponder that for a while, and know that I do have the answer. But I'll never tell. Heheheheheh.

The darkness in that place is oppressive, really. Weighs down on you, like the entire weight of the ruins are trying to crush you into nothing. I don't have an actual pulse, but my heart was still racing in there... A rare sensation for me, these days. It was thrilling. Corvin's people have installed some lights here or there. Gotta give him credit here, he has a flair for the dramatic. Some of the lights are meant to mimic the appearance of torches, though with a colder light. Real easy to get lost, though, if you don't follow the lights. Don't know exactly how long that idiot has had access to the place, but he clearly hasn't explored it all yet. Heheheheh. God help him if he does. He may not like what he finds.

The lights provided a convenient method of figuring out where the useful areas, for my mission, were. So I wandered those crumbling, stone, tunnels until I found a nice little Ritual Room, beneath a statue of a giant spider thing. Now, that, I can't explain. No idea what it is, though I know of a few things it could be. I was hoping to find our stolen property down there, but no such luck. Based on some notes I found in a desk, (Which I will not be posting here, fuck you) I am pretty sure our property WAS there, at the very least. The translations weren't... Perfect, but I get the feeling those fuckers got the gist of some of the information, which is not good. Very bad, in fact. Especially for me, because they might know how to kill me now. Maybe. Assuming they didn't leave behind the final version of the translations, and have the talent to put 2 and 2 together... Still. It is one thing to know how to do it, and another entirely to actually do it.

I am not worried.

Still, knowing that our property wasn't likely there anymore, I figured I needed to get some advice on how to proceed. So I laid low until some fake Timberwolves showed up, and we had a nice chat beneath the spider statue. Loreid WAS there, and he did work Tommy Corvin. There was also a third person working with them, that they didn't know. And neither do I just based on physical descriptions... Male, dark hair, tall, strong build... Wears a lot of red. Which is never a color I like to see people wear, for obvious reasons. Its not HIM though. He's dead, his successor is dead, and Cordelia is... Not around anymore.

Probably just a fashion choice. Though I have sneaking suspicion this might be the fucker who helped Loreid get to our property to begin with. So he probably used to be one of us. Another goddamn Traitor. Phenomenal.

They apparently spent a few weeks trying to translate the damn thing, but the two chucklefucks I interrogated weren't sure EXACTLY how far the translating got, before Loreid and Mystery Man left, with Corvin leaving on "Vacation" shortly thereafter.

I made my frustration with this shit known to those two fine Cultists, and left them in the loving embrace of the Spider Statue.

I hate bad news.

So, the next step was checking our Corvin's big, fancy, fucking house. I really kinda HATE big fancy houses. Reminds me of my youth. So sterile, so hollow. But built, INEVITABLY on a foundation of filth, misery and pain. And the Master of the household always likes to have a room at the top, to overlook everything else like a God looks down on us lowly mortals. If Corvin was there, I would have chucked him out the highest window I could find, and watch him splat on the concrete below.

So I walked up to the manor, smashed the doorman's head into a wall, gutted the butler and threw the maid down a well. Didn't really feel I had the time to do anything more fun with them. Funny thing though, I did get shot in the face by a door shotgun, when I tried getting into the Study. Splattered my head all over the wall. It sucked. I hate getting shot in the face and splattered. Feels gross, you know? Regardless, I didn't fucking find much in the way of helpful information. Lots of little journals of Corvin's speculation about Father and his kin. He even had notes about some of the blogs that were on here, especially the scientific ones, and the idiot tests that were performed. As if Father was some scientific phenomena, instead of a God, unknowable and incomprehensible to sad little mortals. Hehehe. He wasn't even POSITIVE on the number of Father's kin, the idiot.

There was also this floor of the Manor set up like a Museum of shit that doesn't matter. I remember reading about Jeremy's visit, and what Corvin claimed this shit was. Based on my own little visit... Yeah. Yeah, the stuff is mostly what he said it was. Except for the Sarcophagus. Definitely not who he thinks it is inside that Sarcophagus.

So, I recovered the painting, the important books, and the mirror, and now have them hanging up in my office. NO WORRIES. Jimmy can't see the Mirror from where he is sitting. We take employee safety VERY seriously here, and I just can't risk losing even a worker as useless as him to the Mother.

Should help keep my office a little more secure, though.

ANYHOW. Somewhat concerned that Corvin knew to booby trap his study. Means they were expecting company. UGH. They probably know about me hunting them... Hopefully they haven't found THIS. Not like the blogs have been terribly active lately, so they really have no reason.

Not sure where to go next, but that isn't REALLY my job. That is Intelligence division's job. So. I've been waiting for them to provide me with my next lead. For over a month.

In the meantime, I've been hard at work training up a little squad that I am now... A Handler for, I guess. Probably shouldn't give details about them on here, until this Loreid business is finished, just in case. They are... Adequate, so far. Enthusiastic enough, but not so skilled I would send them after, for example, That Pack of Stray Dogs up north... Maybe when they've gotten a few more successes under their belts. We'll see.

Gonna try to get back to posting... Weekly-ish, on here. Assuming stuff happens worth talking about, that won't make my underlings less effective in the field. We'll see. We will see.

Return & Travels

SO. As you, the peanut gallery of NANCY NEGATIVES and WANNABE Psychologists, have CLEARLY NOTED. I'm back.

Good to know Spinner lost fucking INTEREST in the job I gave him, only after TWO GODDAMN WEEKS. Which... You know, isn't SURPRISING, just disappointing. WHATEVER. Who cares. This isn't about him and his little science project. This is about ME. This about FATHER. This is about the things I do for Father. Heheheh.

I take too much vacation time.

SO, I am fully recovered from the... Psychological issues I had been dealing with, and I've gotten some work done since I regained consciousness. Seems everyone's favorite Torturer/Cannibal/Monster Freak Show/TRAITOR/Serial Killer Who people, for some reason seemed to personally LIKE, despite being CLEARLY worse than I've ever been, has put up the details of that... Little meeting, thank-you for trying dinner, thing. She covered everything that happened adequately enough. Not much more to add, really. I tried to be nice, I really did. Offered to repair crippling disfigurements and was told to go fuck myself. Tell me, why is it that whenever I am trying to be nice to someone, no one fucking appreciates it. It really isn't fair, you know.

Oh Well. Guess the only solution is to stop being nice.

It was a useful little trip though. The big bad Wolf turns out is actually kinda short. Like 5'4" or so. Also I thought she wore a mask? Guess she ditched it when coming back. Can't really blame her, though, because her face seems to fulfill the same function. Some weird red... Thread things, I guess they are, kinda stitched through her entire face. Around the eyes and mouth and shit. Don't know how they biologically work, or what they are. She smiles, they move. It's weird. She also didn't wear shoes. In Canada. In the Winter. So that's a thing. No nails either, fingers or toes. I have no idea why. She still has hair, though. Maybe someone more scientifically inclined can explain that one to me... Unless it isn't hair... Hmmm.

 I can also confirm there is a mouth on her stomach, and she can eat using it. The world has gotten weird, hasn't it? I'll fix that little problem soon enough.

Kristy and Hart both have the stitching shit too, so I assume Wolf fixed them up after Osprey's shit-show of a ceremony. Really should have checked to see what that shit was, but I figured dissecting Wolf might get me, you know, incinerated. Another time, I guess... I also probably should have picked a fight with either Hart or Kristy. See what they can do, how they were trained and shit. I distinctly recall a number of posts mentioning sparring, so that might have told me a bit about how they and, more importantly, Wolf actually fight. Though, once again, my innocent curiosity probably would have gotten me BURNED.

Also DISAPPOINTED yet again in the peanut gallery and their little comments. I MERCY-KILLED that prisoner. No other way of looking at it, she was suffering and I put her out of her misery. I am SUCH A NICE GUY. But do I get any recognition for that act of mercy? No. And I guranFUCKINGtee you people will STILL think that Mutt and her puppies are better people than me. I don't GET IT. I have done NOTHING Wolf wouldn't do, and yet I'm the BAD GUY. This is David Banks shit all over again. Why did people like that guy? WHY? He RAPED PEOPLE. HE MURDERED PEOPLE. GOOD PEOPLE. INNOCENT PEOPLE. PEOPLE LIKE YOU, READER. YES YOU. BEHIND THAT SCREEN. NOT YOU KELEVRA, YOU BANDAGED FUCK. AND NOT THE WOLF PACK. I MEAN YOU, ANONYMOUS RANDOM READER WHO STUMBLED ACROSS THIS. Tell me, why is it that I am so fucking REVILED and people like Banks and Wolf are treated with SUCH FUCKING COURTESY AND SUPPORT AND UNDERSTANDING. It makes me want to VOMIT. And then KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Which, mind you, I intended to do regardless of your support for rapists and torturers.

ANYWAY, the food was good, and I will admit... I kind of miss it already. I can't cook for shit, and people are well... Here's a fun fact for you. I promised to be honest on this little blog, so here goes... I don't actually LIKE the taste of people all that much. Kinda greasy at the best of times, and frequently tastes like bad tuna. I never DID like it that much. I will eat it, sure... But give me chicken any day of the week over long-pig. For a while there, a lot of that talk about me eating people... I really only did it because, well, that shit was expected of me. Tensor basically recruited me while I was still gnawing on Dad's arm. That kinda of gives you a reputation going into things, and... Well. In this career, it never hurts to try and live up to that reputation. Helps you survive in the world. And that is actually my advice to new Proxies out there: Find your gimmick, and embrace it. The moment you join the family, you stop being John, or Diana, or whoever, and you start being a new person. The Mask helps with that, I think.

You know Sanna, you really ought to start wearing a mask, yourself. I mean... As you are right now, are you really worth anything? Just a broken little dolly. Why not put on a mask, huh? Make something new out of yourself. A new name, a new face, a new fate. Blank Slate. The World is your oyster. You should give it a try.

But yeah, that little dinner with the ex-family wasn't the only thing I've been doing. Remember how I was chasing a fucker from Europe back home to the states? Well, that College I tracked him to is a fascinating place. Basically a fucking Cult town, only the Cult doesn't really understand what it is worshiping. There is this guy, Thomas Corvin. Pitiful fucker. Rich as hell, but only vaguely aware of the horrible, wonderful, truths all around him. He knows about Father, but is unlucky enough to have NEVER BEEN BLESSED by him. He isn't a runner, he isn't a proxy. He is, effectively, nobody. Father didn't feel he was worth his time, or something. And God DAMN does that rustle his three-thousand dollar jimmies. Or however much they are worth... What are "jimmies" anyway?

... Oh. Shit. They might be... Slaves? Ah. That's a bit awkward. Probably gonna stop using that phrase now... The more you know?

Anywho, this Corvin guy, he has been trying his DAMNDEST to get Father or another of the Great Ones to notice his ass. Even named a fraternity at that College, which he owns, after the Timberwolves. Because getting the Archangel to notice you sounds like a REALLY good idea. He also plasters all sorts of shit around the college grounds that he thinks might attact Fear attention... And yeah. It does kind of work. A lot of Runners come out of that College. An ideal hunting ground, but... Honestly. If you kill off the breeding ground, the population suffers. So we've let it be for the past few years.

Now Corvin, as a wealthy modern day occultist, knows a lot of other people interested in this sort of thing. The very Alexandre Loreid I am looking for is one such person, and we speculated he stole the THING I AM NOT ALLOWED TO TALK ABOUT and brought it to Corvin for some kind of ritual.

Well, we couldn't have that. So, when I woke up, I paid the college a little visit. Nothing spectacularly obvious, of course. I just walked in and went into every place the staff told me I couldn't be in. Not like they could stop me, right? Hehehehe.

The... Chambers beneath the College are particularly interesting... Old, well-preserved, and devoted to things other than what was typically worshiped by Native Americans in the area. More on that... Another time, I think. We're honestly still taking inventory for the things we recovered from that site... But for now, I will simply say, that the increased activity of Father and the others, over the past decade or so, has had a notable effect on the amount of raw azoth just laying around. The dumbass runners are basically walking azoth factories, and if they knew at all how to use it... Man, would the world be a different place.

Corvin and Loreid though... They seem to know what to do with it, and were conspicuously NOT FUCKING THERE when I arrived. So that is my current top priority. Then I can start dealing with my fellow walking corpses...

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?