Okay, I know this has been done before, and the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. However, that's also the definition of the scientific method. Since I'm a scientist and my grip on sanity is WELL known to be mediocre at best, I feel like I'm on the right track.
Anyway, what I would like all of you, brave runners/fighters/whatever we're calling ourselves now is to list ALL the blogs you're following. Don't worry about repeating others, doesn't matter. Raw data is what I need. Also, along with each listing I need you to put up some extra info.
1. Activity - When did they last put in an entry? Data can be sparse so we'll go by Current (Within 2 weeks), Monthly, Sporadic, Dormant, Final
2. Status - How deeply is the blogger into this? Fully Aware, Haunted, Unaware, Relation, Observer, Innocent.
3. Mentality - How are they treating the scenario? Fighter, Runner, Hiding, Confused, Hallowed
For example:
White Elephants - Robert Sage - Current - Fully Aware - Fighter (Put in a link here)
A Hint Of Serendipity - Zero - Final - Fully Aware - Fighter
The Tutorial - M - Monthly - Fully Aware - Runner
Time To Talk - Cathy - Current - Haunted (Now Fully Aware) - Hiding (For now)
Eleventh Hour - Cynthia - Current - Fully Aware - Hallowed
Once I get a suitable list up of enough blogs and data, I'm going to be sending out contact feelers to people. Start up an info net, develop a Watchtower program, coordinate safe spots, and start hunting down high level Revenants.
I'm not gonna lie. This isn't going to be safe, smart, or easy. You want no part of the Coalition? Go with our blessings, take up M's rules and may God and/or Luck be with you.
If you're in? Then let's get that girl home.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
New Purpose
Okay folks, had a moment to relax, collected my insurance money, taking a paid vacation. (Thank you redlight, for giving me SUCH a good work history.) And now, I have a purpose.
Cathy, if you're still active after that fire, Cynthia is now my priority. I'm going to try and find her.
I have two leads actually. Cathy says she couldn't see Cynthia's page and posts. Who do we know that has that trick? I'm going to find my dear devoted associate, and then...Ava what's a good cricket term for 'beat the living hell out of that jackass until I learn something and then beat him some more after that'? This is more than just a random hunch though. redlight left his own journals and scribbles as well as babbled to himself CONSTANTLY. He KNOWS where the others are, save for you Reach, they don't respect the little weasel (Surprise surprise) but they consult with him. Probably because he's got higher faculties left.
Also I wont lie, this is TOTAL payback as well.
My second lead? It's a greenlight memory. I remember greenlight being (or at least thinking that he was) in a building, no idea where, but it was an abandoned one, and pretty big. Three red brick walls and one grey concrete...I think. Either way, all four walls were upright and intact, but the roof was missing. Outside the building is pretty much nothing but generic scrub. Inside, there's a couple of trees, and a massive amount of undergrowth and moss and other plant life.
greenlight drew that place a couple of times, along with stick figure children with ---. He labeled it as 'Playhouse.'
Either way, Cathy...I'm going to find your girl. I give no promises on status or sanity, I'm sorry but I wont give you false hope like that. I may have a few tricks, but I'm not a miracle worker.
However, I wont let you suffer. I wont let you feel that gasp of awful hope at every knock at the door or every stranger you see on the street, hoping that it's her, only to suffer a little more when it never is her.
I will bring her home. I promise.
And you all are going to help me, damnit. Requests, theories, experiments, and other instructions will follow. We've been too disorganized and concerned with saving our own skins. Time to step it up.
Cathy, if you're still active after that fire, Cynthia is now my priority. I'm going to try and find her.
I have two leads actually. Cathy says she couldn't see Cynthia's page and posts. Who do we know that has that trick? I'm going to find my dear devoted associate, and then...Ava what's a good cricket term for 'beat the living hell out of that jackass until I learn something and then beat him some more after that'? This is more than just a random hunch though. redlight left his own journals and scribbles as well as babbled to himself CONSTANTLY. He KNOWS where the others are, save for you Reach, they don't respect the little weasel (Surprise surprise) but they consult with him. Probably because he's got higher faculties left.
Also I wont lie, this is TOTAL payback as well.
My second lead? It's a greenlight memory. I remember greenlight being (or at least thinking that he was) in a building, no idea where, but it was an abandoned one, and pretty big. Three red brick walls and one grey concrete...I think. Either way, all four walls were upright and intact, but the roof was missing. Outside the building is pretty much nothing but generic scrub. Inside, there's a couple of trees, and a massive amount of undergrowth and moss and other plant life.
greenlight drew that place a couple of times, along with stick figure children with ---. He labeled it as 'Playhouse.'
Either way, Cathy...I'm going to find your girl. I give no promises on status or sanity, I'm sorry but I wont give you false hope like that. I may have a few tricks, but I'm not a miracle worker.
However, I wont let you suffer. I wont let you feel that gasp of awful hope at every knock at the door or every stranger you see on the street, hoping that it's her, only to suffer a little more when it never is her.
I will bring her home. I promise.
And you all are going to help me, damnit. Requests, theories, experiments, and other instructions will follow. We've been too disorganized and concerned with saving our own skins. Time to step it up.
The Gory Details
So, here I am in a nice hotel, showered, bandaged, well-fed, and again hooked up to a wifi that's far too expensive for its own good. A moment of peace and tranquility. Yeah, don't worry I know it's too damn good to be true and that's why I got a new bat. Cricket this time. Thought I'd pay a little nod of solidarity to the Librarian. Plus, I can't wait to hear the sound it's gonna make on that prick's skull.
Anyway, you want to hear about the great grand and glorious escape. Alright. Well, it started with me in total despair, staring at my collection of Canned Foods You Never Really Eat Are Not Sure When You Got And Usually Give Away On Thanksgiving, you probably have one too. I stared at a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli that had flames on the label (Spicy Italian, told you these were old cans). Then I got the idea.
Really, it was more of a 'If I'm going down...' kind of thing. I was in a dark place, and (so I thought) alone. Also I think redlight had been watching Fight Club in the living room for the umpteenth time (More mind games, trust me, he and me are two VERY different people) and that's where I got the idea.
I got out a pot and started to make myself some of that ravioli. But I cranked up one of the other burners on my gas stove further. Past the auto-lighter quick enough that it didn't turn it on. Then I left the pot to boil and the gas to leak, and got to the other side of the room and put the kitchen table on its side to put it between me and the stove. I half-prentended to have another fit of rage and despair, tossing things and crying/screaming, ending with a fetal position crouch.
It honestly was not as impressive as you might think it would be. After what seemed to be far far too long there was a FWHOOMP a flash of light, and suddenly all those papers with scribbles, the torn wallpaper, and some semi-nice window curtains that I got at IKEA were up in flames. The fire alarm went off, and redlight ran into the room.
That's when I jumped him. I felt something...graze me...like the feeling you get when you almost have a headache? I don't know. I think it was redlight trying to put me under again (Yeah, watch out, the bastard's got special tricks from ---) but he couldn't do it. I think I know why.
Halloweds lose their juice when they're afraid.
Either way the guy was strong enough to smash his elbow into my nose. But I grabbed my pot of boiling ravioli and wailed on him with it. He staggered back dazed, and then I grabbed his left arm (I was going a bit primal here) and I shoved it down the garbage disposal and flicked on the switch.
He screamed and pulled his hands out after just three seconds, but I saw his hand. It wasn't mangled or nasty, it just looked like someone had hacked at his fingers with a potato peeler a bit. He just ran off after that, like the coward we all know he is.
By then the fire was...pretty bad, it had gotten to other rooms in the house, smoke was thick, air was thicker. I was pretty sure I was going to die. Remember third grade fire safety, I dropped to the ground and started to crawl to the door. My nose bleeding, apparently my ears were bleeding too (From the report at the hospital), and I'm pretty sure some part of my clothes were slightly on fire now as well. I cleared out of the kitchen, and then I saw ---.
--- was just standing there in the hall. No tentacles, no creepy mental sounds, no whispers, just me on the floor, and --- standing there. (Oh, by the by, it's NOT a tie. That 'lapel' area? It...throbbed.) I look at ---, and --- tilts ---'s head to 'look' at me.
We can debate from now until forever on how smart it is, if it's actually malevolent or not, and a thousand other ideas of its nature. That thing looked at me, and I think...
Zeke...I know this will probably make no sense to you but I have to ask...in the warehouse did you see or hear the black leaves?
It's probably a lingering hallucination, ignore it if it doesn't make sense.
Anyway, someone must have seen the fire and called 911, because I hear sirens then. --- just walked away, deeper into my house, but it didn't take a genius to know that --- was gone.
I passed out then, and woke up in the hospital.
And now you know the rest of the story.
Anyway, you want to hear about the great grand and glorious escape. Alright. Well, it started with me in total despair, staring at my collection of Canned Foods You Never Really Eat Are Not Sure When You Got And Usually Give Away On Thanksgiving, you probably have one too. I stared at a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli that had flames on the label (Spicy Italian, told you these were old cans). Then I got the idea.
Really, it was more of a 'If I'm going down...' kind of thing. I was in a dark place, and (so I thought) alone. Also I think redlight had been watching Fight Club in the living room for the umpteenth time (More mind games, trust me, he and me are two VERY different people) and that's where I got the idea.
I got out a pot and started to make myself some of that ravioli. But I cranked up one of the other burners on my gas stove further. Past the auto-lighter quick enough that it didn't turn it on. Then I left the pot to boil and the gas to leak, and got to the other side of the room and put the kitchen table on its side to put it between me and the stove. I half-prentended to have another fit of rage and despair, tossing things and crying/screaming, ending with a fetal position crouch.
It honestly was not as impressive as you might think it would be. After what seemed to be far far too long there was a FWHOOMP a flash of light, and suddenly all those papers with scribbles, the torn wallpaper, and some semi-nice window curtains that I got at IKEA were up in flames. The fire alarm went off, and redlight ran into the room.
That's when I jumped him. I felt something...graze me...like the feeling you get when you almost have a headache? I don't know. I think it was redlight trying to put me under again (Yeah, watch out, the bastard's got special tricks from ---) but he couldn't do it. I think I know why.
Halloweds lose their juice when they're afraid.
Either way the guy was strong enough to smash his elbow into my nose. But I grabbed my pot of boiling ravioli and wailed on him with it. He staggered back dazed, and then I grabbed his left arm (I was going a bit primal here) and I shoved it down the garbage disposal and flicked on the switch.
He screamed and pulled his hands out after just three seconds, but I saw his hand. It wasn't mangled or nasty, it just looked like someone had hacked at his fingers with a potato peeler a bit. He just ran off after that, like the coward we all know he is.
By then the fire was...pretty bad, it had gotten to other rooms in the house, smoke was thick, air was thicker. I was pretty sure I was going to die. Remember third grade fire safety, I dropped to the ground and started to crawl to the door. My nose bleeding, apparently my ears were bleeding too (From the report at the hospital), and I'm pretty sure some part of my clothes were slightly on fire now as well. I cleared out of the kitchen, and then I saw ---.
--- was just standing there in the hall. No tentacles, no creepy mental sounds, no whispers, just me on the floor, and --- standing there. (Oh, by the by, it's NOT a tie. That 'lapel' area? It...throbbed.) I look at ---, and --- tilts ---'s head to 'look' at me.
We can debate from now until forever on how smart it is, if it's actually malevolent or not, and a thousand other ideas of its nature. That thing looked at me, and I think...
Zeke...I know this will probably make no sense to you but I have to ask...in the warehouse did you see or hear the black leaves?
It's probably a lingering hallucination, ignore it if it doesn't make sense.
Anyway, someone must have seen the fire and called 911, because I hear sirens then. --- just walked away, deeper into my house, but it didn't take a genius to know that --- was gone.
I passed out then, and woke up in the hospital.
And now you know the rest of the story.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Free
I'm free.
I'm in a hospital, but I'm free.
They charge too damn much for wifi here, it's late, and I'm full of morphine, so I'll make this quick. I'll tell the whole story later. Cliff notes version now.
I got out by setting my place on fire.
Fought redlight, he broke my nose, I shoved his hand down the trash disposal and turned it on.
Bastard ran, still alive.
Stared --- in the 'face' before --- left when the fire trucks showed.
Firemen found me and pulled me out. Got me here. Said it was a nasty gas accident...which it was. Heheheh. Thank you Chef Boyardee, my escape partner.
I remember a lot of stuff I forgot.
greenlight was insane, couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
But I can.
And not everything greenlight saw was insanity.
Gonna heal up. Rest.
Then...back to work.
Good to be back.
Let's kick some emaciated ass.
I'm in a hospital, but I'm free.
They charge too damn much for wifi here, it's late, and I'm full of morphine, so I'll make this quick. I'll tell the whole story later. Cliff notes version now.
I got out by setting my place on fire.
Fought redlight, he broke my nose, I shoved his hand down the trash disposal and turned it on.
Bastard ran, still alive.
Stared --- in the 'face' before --- left when the fire trucks showed.
Firemen found me and pulled me out. Got me here. Said it was a nasty gas accident...which it was. Heheheh. Thank you Chef Boyardee, my escape partner.
I remember a lot of stuff I forgot.
greenlight was insane, couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
But I can.
And not everything greenlight saw was insanity.
Gonna heal up. Rest.
Then...back to work.
Good to be back.
Let's kick some emaciated ass.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Told you this was just the beginning. Heh.
Poor Robbie's crying again...all alone.
This is your fault. Your arrogance and hubris. Defying me just out of spite or pride, and never considering Rob's suffering.
When five people say 'Please, I Want You To End Robert.' I'll let him see you.
Until then...and listennnn to the sound of silence!
Regards,
r
Poor Robbie's crying again...all alone.
This is your fault. Your arrogance and hubris. Defying me just out of spite or pride, and never considering Rob's suffering.
When five people say 'Please, I Want You To End Robert.' I'll let him see you.
Until then...and listennnn to the sound of silence!
Regards,
r
New Deal
Ah, Robbie's crying again. He won't mind me doing this then. Not like he could stop me, curled up into the fetal position like that.
Oh, don't try to tell him about this though. You know how the HYBRIDS can't see some of those videos? Same deal.
Anyway, onto business.
The old deal is still intact as always.
But now there's a new one. Why does he not STOP? Why do they look to him? He's LOST!
You folks get to say when Robbie's hell ends.When will they accept it? When will HE accept it? I NEED him to stop
I won't lie. When I say 'end,' it's exactly what you think it is. However, and as you all know I am not a liar, it will be swift and painless. He That Is...I do not know why He That Is cannot kill him...this way will work
If...oh lets get a good consensus...let's see...43 followers? Okay, if 15 different people ask, then Robbie will stop gibbering to himself and talking to walls. That's a good percentage, don't you think? This way will work...if He That Is and I cannot kill him...then it will be they that do so for us.
Anyway, until you decide to do the kind thing, Rob remains where he is...actually this is just the start. It WILL get worse. Then better. Then MUCH worse. Then I'll fix him again. Then, knowing him and his insistence on fighting He That Is, he'll end up back on the kitchen floor. Over and over and over. Fun stuff. This will work. He will fall.
It's up to you to choose how long it goes.
As always, you just need to say 'Please.'
Manners are important.
Regards,
r
It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.
I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.
Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.
--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.
I try. I try so hard...
redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.
Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.
Oh, don't try to tell him about this though. You know how the HYBRIDS can't see some of those videos? Same deal.
Anyway, onto business.
The old deal is still intact as always.
But now there's a new one. Why does he not STOP? Why do they look to him? He's LOST!
You folks get to say when Robbie's hell ends.When will they accept it? When will HE accept it? I NEED him to stop
I won't lie. When I say 'end,' it's exactly what you think it is. However, and as you all know I am not a liar, it will be swift and painless. He That Is...I do not know why He That Is cannot kill him...this way will work
If...oh lets get a good consensus...let's see...43 followers? Okay, if 15 different people ask, then Robbie will stop gibbering to himself and talking to walls. That's a good percentage, don't you think? This way will work...if He That Is and I cannot kill him...then it will be they that do so for us.
Anyway, until you decide to do the kind thing, Rob remains where he is...actually this is just the start. It WILL get worse. Then better. Then MUCH worse. Then I'll fix him again. Then, knowing him and his insistence on fighting He That Is, he'll end up back on the kitchen floor. Over and over and over. Fun stuff. This will work. He will fall.
It's up to you to choose how long it goes.
As always, you just need to say 'Please.'
Manners are important.
Regards,
r
It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.
I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.
Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.
--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.
I try. I try so hard...
redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.
Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.
Maybe the lunacy is right, with Fizzbomb and the others being free, because it's a damn sight better than being someone --- keeps alive.
Back
I'm back. I woke up on the kitchen floor. They graciously left my laptop in here. I'm covered in dirt and my nails are bloody. I was outside, digging in the ground. No reason. No sane reason. I also clawed at my wallpaper along one wall and smeared dirt and a little blood all over it. The floor is covered with broken pens and scribbled paper. Just Operator Symbols and...more of that nonsense that I posted.
I'm apparently so happy that she's gone. That she's 'free' and I want others to follow in her example. That it's the only way to hurt him. Yes, if there's no one left to speak about him, that would do it now wouldn't it?
It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.
I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.
Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.
--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.
I try. I try so hard...
redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.
Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.
I'm apparently so happy that she's gone. That she's 'free' and I want others to follow in her example. That it's the only way to hurt him. Yes, if there's no one left to speak about him, that would do it now wouldn't it?
It hurts you know. I wake up and every part of my body hurts. I can't take it...I actually considered in a moment of weakness...but when I made a dive for the knife drawer, I blacked out again. --- LIKES me alive.
I don't sleep anymore. I just black out. Then someone else goes to work and acts normal. Then someone else comes home and scrawls on the walls, speaking in nonsensical babble. Preaching about Excalibur, Grendel, and Roland. Nonsense giving poetical gravitas by use of a large vocabulary and pseudo-Jungian terms.
Then I wake up...on the floor...filthy...aching in pain.
--- is in my house. In the guestroom, if you can take the irony. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I can't leave the kitchen. I blackout otherwise. At least as long as --- is here, then --- isn't outside. Not that being in two places at once ever gave --- pause before.
I try. I try so hard...
redlight laughs at me from the living room, and I can't tell if it's my laughter or not. Either way, I hate him.
Still, the bastards left me the computer, and a kitchen full of stuff. I won't give in.
Maybe the lunacy is right, with Fizzbomb and the others being free, because it's a damn sight better than being someone --- keeps alive.
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