Hi people, it's been a while and that's because I've decided to stay silent and train for a while... well, if you consider "over a month" as a mile, in which case you have a fucked up sense of time like me.
So basically, we have two people in our party now- a proxy named Myrir and a guy named Jerome. I don't know these people and I generally enjoy staying away from the main group, but O'Zalia got me up to greet them, and I finally got to see O'Zalia the Great Psychic make a faux pas right out of Buffy. Honestly, I chuckled a little when he said, "There is a thing in your stuff!" but I was cackling wildly inside and I think he could hear it. So if I don't make another update it means I am dead. Very, very dead... or vegetized. Then Myrir explained she's pregnant to someone named Malkator's child. I asked Isaac who he is but he just stared off for a while, looking pissed and about to kill something, so I'm deciding to do my own research eventually, but I kind of got the jist that he's some kind of modern eldritch Perseus.
Then I found out that Jerome was an Emissary and... kind of flipped. See, at this point the only Emissaries I knew were bad, bad people- Jerard and Camazotz and this Nolla Row lady- so the fact that there is an Emissary on our side makes me more than a little suspic
Oh. I just got a mental IM from Isaac. Apparently he's an Intended Emissary as well. Well... this is awkward. ...dare I try to see if tinfoil will work, because I can't blog while someone's mentally looking over my shoulder.
Anyways, after our last little mission, O'Zalia went off on his own and found one of Nolla Row's henchmen. Not only that, he killed said henchmen, with seemingly no scars to prove for it. He told me all about it afterwards. Apparently, the spear he carries is fireproof, so it worked pretty well since his opponent was a fire elemental.
He's also been helping me truly master the voices inside of me, and practice intense concentration. He said he based it off of Tibetan meditation and the practices of Tulpa, to try to create illusions similar to him. It kind of works, but it barely fades into view, changes colors spordadically, spins around in midair then disappears. So... for now that's a total flop.
He's also been teaching me to perfect my Static Screech, and he's helping me come up with new tactics. And I got to say, that's pretty damn cool-
...and Isaac just telepathically said, "Damn right it is." GET OUT OF MY HEAD O'ZALIA. MENTAL SCREECHOWFUCKNOMYHEAD.
Okay. So I got to sign off. More meditation and concentration. Woo hoo, said sarcastically.
Kord.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Thursday, May 2, 2013
The Meeting
O'Zalia planned this. It was supposed to work out so well. But it didn't. I don't know why, but somehow the whole damn plan backfired on us. O'Zalia was able to break into one of Nolla Row's people's minds- maybe they weren't in a close enough vicinity or something- and pinpointed the location of the meeting they were supposed to be at. They were supposed to be at the old industrial Cadillac factory.
Old, spooky, and good enough for a Batman villain. Heh. More like good enough for Bat Man. As in Camazotz. As in I suck at jokes. As in I should probably get on with it.
Also, Collector Rho did some bloodwork and found that the fungus was fused directly to my blood cells, right atop the nucleolus or something. Right in DNA storage central. She wanted to run some more tests, but enough was enough. She did ask a couple questions, of course. Mainly about my life before. Then I asked questions about her life before all this shit went down. She says she can't remember life before this shit.
...memory. Touchy subject with Archivists. Anyhoo- so... we took Tom along with us, just to bring in some possible backup, though if the mentally enhanced superbraniac and I were in a spot, a kid with some moderately handy knifework (I've been in prison and I've seen better than that) and a small .38 won't do much good. Unless he had some cool powers of his own. I asked O'Zalia about this on the way there. I asked him why doesn't the other three get ... granted superpowers or something. O'Zalia said something about equilibrium and protecting the peace of humankind and the warping of the fabric of the universe. And Demi-Gods.
He explained about a couple of the Demi-Gods. He talked about the Game Master, whoever the fuck that is (I remember hearing him interrogating one of Row's lackies about it... Jerard, I think), and some of the sick things he did. Then he talked about others. Mainly he talked about Benjamin Malkator. He took on a somber tone to his voice when he told me about the brave things he did in his life, the lives he saved and the straight up supervillains whose asses he kicked with his Archive-y soul-eating-mouth-y powers... I'm trying to build a mental barrier around my thoughts right now by-the-by. If he heard me call the brave Malkator kid that, he'd tear my heart out with his mind, I bet. He seems like the person who takes out his loss and sorrows on a hapless sap, good guy or no. And I ain't gonna take that chance.
OH RIGHT THE PLAN
Well, you see, we went there to the old abandoned factory. O'Zalia noticed that he couldn't feel any mental presences from within the building. He then slowly turned open the door and made sure it didn't creak when we stepped in. It didn't matter anyways. I could have asked Them politely and They may have muted the sound. But to each his own, I guess.
Camazotz ambushed us. He sent out a wave of screeching bats. O'Zalia countered and used his telepathy to rip the nails out of the door and impale four of the bats. I heard Camazotz screaming somewhere in some kind of empathically-linked pain. O'Zalia then tried tracking the mental presence, but he knew as well as I that it was no use. As long as he was under Nolla Row's care, the only way we could locate him is if he came out to face us... unless...
I heard O'Zalia tapping his foot on the floor, waiting patiently, eyes like a hawk, and I took the advantage. I used the echoes bouncing off the surfaces and used it to track the sound difference... there was a moving figure to the right, hiding in the shadows. I rushed without warning, and O'Zalia called after me. Too late, and I was bombarded by swarms of bats. O'Zalia came in, and used his telepathy again and broke the necks of about a dozen of the things. Then Camazotz came down. He flew down from the rafters with two bat wings coming out of his back.
"Serves you right for trespassing into someone else's territory."
O'Zalia was calm and collected as he demanded, "The Game Master. What do you know about him and what is Row planning?"
"Oh, come now, Isaac. You think you don't know. You may have erased the Game Master's body from existence, but he's a resilient thing. And you just erased his body. You didn't erase his memory, his soul, his influence on the things around him. It just needs a new shell. Enough worship, enough raw eldritch power... and maybe a new shell can be formed."
"So you're going to bring back the Game Master!? You're going to let the man who murdered Benjamin Malkator come back and kill thousands for the rest of time!"
"Yes I am. Tough titties, telepath!"
O'Zalia may have had intense mental capacity, but it didn't mean his likely days as a lowly grunt proxy didn't pay off. He picked up a metal pipe and hurled it like a javelin right at Camazotz. The pipe went right through him... and the smoky, fog-like hole where the pipe ripped through rippled back into place... and Camazotz' false image flickered out of view.
"Where is he!?" I yelled.
"Maybe I'm over here!" Camazotz laughed behind me. I turned to look at him, and his image faded like a burnt out light. "Or maybe I'm over here! Or over here! Or is it over here!?" Images of him flickered into view throughout the whole building.
I chose to find the one that was moving... which one of these things just doesn't belong here. And I sent a bolt of sonic waves at it before O'Zalia could tell me to stop. It reverberated around, booming in our eardrums, making O'Zalia grit his teeth and close his eyes and making me kneel to the floor and grab my ears in pain. When I got back up, Camazotz was gone- save the bats O'Zalia killed.
It's my fault. He got away because I didn't realize what shooting off a sonic bolt would have done. I should have known when I tracked Camazotz by the echo. I should have told O'Zalia when I tracked Camazotz by sound, instead of rushing off. I was careless, and I failed.
I have thinking to do.
Old, spooky, and good enough for a Batman villain. Heh. More like good enough for Bat Man. As in Camazotz. As in I suck at jokes. As in I should probably get on with it.
Also, Collector Rho did some bloodwork and found that the fungus was fused directly to my blood cells, right atop the nucleolus or something. Right in DNA storage central. She wanted to run some more tests, but enough was enough. She did ask a couple questions, of course. Mainly about my life before. Then I asked questions about her life before all this shit went down. She says she can't remember life before this shit.
...memory. Touchy subject with Archivists. Anyhoo- so... we took Tom along with us, just to bring in some possible backup, though if the mentally enhanced superbraniac and I were in a spot, a kid with some moderately handy knifework (I've been in prison and I've seen better than that) and a small .38 won't do much good. Unless he had some cool powers of his own. I asked O'Zalia about this on the way there. I asked him why doesn't the other three get ... granted superpowers or something. O'Zalia said something about equilibrium and protecting the peace of humankind and the warping of the fabric of the universe. And Demi-Gods.
He explained about a couple of the Demi-Gods. He talked about the Game Master, whoever the fuck that is (I remember hearing him interrogating one of Row's lackies about it... Jerard, I think), and some of the sick things he did. Then he talked about others. Mainly he talked about Benjamin Malkator. He took on a somber tone to his voice when he told me about the brave things he did in his life, the lives he saved and the straight up supervillains whose asses he kicked with his Archive-y soul-eating-mouth-y powers... I'm trying to build a mental barrier around my thoughts right now by-the-by. If he heard me call the brave Malkator kid that, he'd tear my heart out with his mind, I bet. He seems like the person who takes out his loss and sorrows on a hapless sap, good guy or no. And I ain't gonna take that chance.
OH RIGHT THE PLAN
Well, you see, we went there to the old abandoned factory. O'Zalia noticed that he couldn't feel any mental presences from within the building. He then slowly turned open the door and made sure it didn't creak when we stepped in. It didn't matter anyways. I could have asked Them politely and They may have muted the sound. But to each his own, I guess.
Camazotz ambushed us. He sent out a wave of screeching bats. O'Zalia countered and used his telepathy to rip the nails out of the door and impale four of the bats. I heard Camazotz screaming somewhere in some kind of empathically-linked pain. O'Zalia then tried tracking the mental presence, but he knew as well as I that it was no use. As long as he was under Nolla Row's care, the only way we could locate him is if he came out to face us... unless...
I heard O'Zalia tapping his foot on the floor, waiting patiently, eyes like a hawk, and I took the advantage. I used the echoes bouncing off the surfaces and used it to track the sound difference... there was a moving figure to the right, hiding in the shadows. I rushed without warning, and O'Zalia called after me. Too late, and I was bombarded by swarms of bats. O'Zalia came in, and used his telepathy again and broke the necks of about a dozen of the things. Then Camazotz came down. He flew down from the rafters with two bat wings coming out of his back.
"Serves you right for trespassing into someone else's territory."
O'Zalia was calm and collected as he demanded, "The Game Master. What do you know about him and what is Row planning?"
"Oh, come now, Isaac. You think you don't know. You may have erased the Game Master's body from existence, but he's a resilient thing. And you just erased his body. You didn't erase his memory, his soul, his influence on the things around him. It just needs a new shell. Enough worship, enough raw eldritch power... and maybe a new shell can be formed."
"So you're going to bring back the Game Master!? You're going to let the man who murdered Benjamin Malkator come back and kill thousands for the rest of time!"
"Yes I am. Tough titties, telepath!"
O'Zalia may have had intense mental capacity, but it didn't mean his likely days as a lowly grunt proxy didn't pay off. He picked up a metal pipe and hurled it like a javelin right at Camazotz. The pipe went right through him... and the smoky, fog-like hole where the pipe ripped through rippled back into place... and Camazotz' false image flickered out of view.
"Where is he!?" I yelled.
"Maybe I'm over here!" Camazotz laughed behind me. I turned to look at him, and his image faded like a burnt out light. "Or maybe I'm over here! Or over here! Or is it over here!?" Images of him flickered into view throughout the whole building.
I chose to find the one that was moving... which one of these things just doesn't belong here. And I sent a bolt of sonic waves at it before O'Zalia could tell me to stop. It reverberated around, booming in our eardrums, making O'Zalia grit his teeth and close his eyes and making me kneel to the floor and grab my ears in pain. When I got back up, Camazotz was gone- save the bats O'Zalia killed.
It's my fault. He got away because I didn't realize what shooting off a sonic bolt would have done. I should have known when I tracked Camazotz by the echo. I should have told O'Zalia when I tracked Camazotz by sound, instead of rushing off. I was careless, and I failed.
I have thinking to do.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Going on the Warpath
Okay, I've been silent for about six months now, haven't I?
I've spent my time training. That first encounter with Camazotz taught me that I haven't honed my abilities enough. I have the power, yes, but I need to control the voices. I need to control Them lest They control me. He's helped me- O'Zalia, to an extent. He's helped me hone my telepath abilities. I can talk into any mind I can and I know how to push. My other abilities- my mimicry amongst other talents- he hasn't honed yet. He's working in increments.
But I've been training by myself. A few reasons. I want to hone my other abilities. My visual hallucinations, my mimickry, my deafening sound bursts, I can't do those in front of O'Zalia. I've been able to keep a pretty good telepathic block on my mind
(THANKS TO THEIR GOOD GRACES)
...what?
Oh... They're speaking through me. In any case, I've kept a telepathic block on my mind thanks to Them because I know O'Zalia will disapprove. Of both my methods of self-training and my motivations. Also, Collector Rho knows that I've lived longer than most Greyskins by over a decade, and every time I overexert myself she looks at me hungrily... in a physical way, but more of the physical dissect me open and see what makes me different than the others way. And for those who thought the other physical way, I will sonic screech you, I swear to God.
My motivation is simple- I'm after Camazotz. I've been going vigilante against him for the past three months.
Camazotz has killed ten people in the past six months. Chairmen on the city board, police officers, and even personal bodyguards to the city's Mayor. He's been talking to someone. Sometimes, when he's near, I can hone in on what he's saying to others. It's risky, but he's been talking to a few people. I recognized one of the voices. A Child of the Cold... one of the ones from the prison. One of the gang members from the prison. He brought accomplices. The other voices I can't recognize.
I've been usurping his assassinations, for the most part with high levels of success. The police are baffled, and the Fear-knowing organizations don't do jack shit for some reason. So I've had to do it with moderate success.
This time, I've gotten crucial evidence.
MEETING, RECRUIT
9:15 PM
THE USUAL SPOT
A LATERAL MEGALITH HEMS
I don't know what the last line means, but it seems...
important.
Hopefully Isaac will know that this is personal, and that he should just stay away if he finds out. Camazotz is mine. I know everything about him. From the caves to the Skull Man's Gift.
Goddammit, I'm going after him. It's only logical. I know him best. I need to have a final confrontation.
It ends now.
-Kord
I've spent my time training. That first encounter with Camazotz taught me that I haven't honed my abilities enough. I have the power, yes, but I need to control the voices. I need to control Them lest They control me. He's helped me- O'Zalia, to an extent. He's helped me hone my telepath abilities. I can talk into any mind I can and I know how to push. My other abilities- my mimicry amongst other talents- he hasn't honed yet. He's working in increments.
But I've been training by myself. A few reasons. I want to hone my other abilities. My visual hallucinations, my mimickry, my deafening sound bursts, I can't do those in front of O'Zalia. I've been able to keep a pretty good telepathic block on my mind
(THANKS TO THEIR GOOD GRACES)
...what?
Oh... They're speaking through me. In any case, I've kept a telepathic block on my mind thanks to Them because I know O'Zalia will disapprove. Of both my methods of self-training and my motivations. Also, Collector Rho knows that I've lived longer than most Greyskins by over a decade, and every time I overexert myself she looks at me hungrily... in a physical way, but more of the physical dissect me open and see what makes me different than the others way. And for those who thought the other physical way, I will sonic screech you, I swear to God.
My motivation is simple- I'm after Camazotz. I've been going vigilante against him for the past three months.
Camazotz has killed ten people in the past six months. Chairmen on the city board, police officers, and even personal bodyguards to the city's Mayor. He's been talking to someone. Sometimes, when he's near, I can hone in on what he's saying to others. It's risky, but he's been talking to a few people. I recognized one of the voices. A Child of the Cold... one of the ones from the prison. One of the gang members from the prison. He brought accomplices. The other voices I can't recognize.
I've been usurping his assassinations, for the most part with high levels of success. The police are baffled, and the Fear-knowing organizations don't do jack shit for some reason. So I've had to do it with moderate success.
This time, I've gotten crucial evidence.
MEETING, RECRUIT
9:15 PM
THE USUAL SPOT
A LATERAL MEGALITH HEMS
I don't know what the last line means, but it seems...
important.
Hopefully Isaac will know that this is personal, and that he should just stay away if he finds out. Camazotz is mine. I know everything about him. From the caves to the Skull Man's Gift.
Goddammit, I'm going after him. It's only logical. I know him best. I need to have a final confrontation.
It ends now.
-Kord
Friday, February 8, 2013
Camazotz
They let me out of those straps about a week ago. I guess I feel okay for at least being there, making him afraid, but... well, I guess it doesn't matter now. Officer Doyle as well as half the police force and the jury are under protective custody as of this point.
We haven't really been doing... well, doing anything. There's apparently Omicron and Phi, and then there's O'Zalia, who seems to have powers similar to mine. Definitely similar, but... not too similar, I guess. He can speak into people's minds like me. But he can also read them. I think I've even seen him do crazier things than that.
Phi seems to have taken an interest in me. And not in a good way, either. Upon questioning, I happened to answer that I think I've had this thing for... about 15 years? She had this look on her face. You know, the half confused, half startled face. I hope she doesn't try anything. I've actually grown fond of these people. May be Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe they're actually nice people... well, they're nicer than me, and that's a start.
Well... that's not what I really wanted to talk about.
I had a kind of crew. We called ourselves The Demons' Hands, because we each had some pretty strange powers. You know mine, but there were a few others. There was a little pale kid tried as an adult for the murder of three hermits on the beach (with an icicle, no less) that seemed to create icicles and other ice weapons from thin air, there were a couple of religious fanatics who claimed they could ask their god to raise the dead (at one point, one actually did after a man convicted of perjury got shanked in the neck over cigarrettes), there was a man with fangs who saw people in mirrors, there was a man who seemed to have a strong link to insects, there was... oh God, I can't tell what's real and what was bullshit to keep themselves from getting killed.
But then there was Camazotz.
Goddamn Camazotz. Of all of the Demons' Hands, he was the most violent, the most testy, and the one who helped me gain some control over my abilities. And he was my closest friend in that shithole. He helped me get out. I heard his power was that birds came out of his body. I never believed it before, though I guessed the scars that ran up and down his arms and chest told a different story.
I saw Camazotz today. O'Zalia said that I should wait outside, and he would try to evaluate and help me train my abilities to keep them from getting under control.
He was off smoking or doing Tai Chi or God-knows-what he does. It was late. 8:15, late. I was in an alleyway when I heard the squeaking of bats next to me.
"Hello, Kord."
"Camazotz?" He stepped out of the shadows very dramatically. He knew he was putting on a show and he played it up.
"Yes, Kord. It's me. So, how's life outside prison bars?"
"It's going well."
"So, who's you're new friend?"
"Another gifted one."
"Ah. From the outside, though, Kord. Tsk tsk, you changing heart?"
"Dammit, Camazotz, why are you here?"
"Followin' your lead, Kord. You were the first one of us to make it out, and I saw your attempts. Well, I read your attempts. So I decided, if he's getting revenge, why shouldn't I?"
"Revenge? Then why are you talking to me?"
"I need a partner in this. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. I heard most the jury that sent you down the river is under police custody. It'd be a bitch for you to get in there, but I..." He lifted his arm to show me a large, new slit down his wrist. Instead of blood, it seemed to be leaking a black substance. Slowly a large, fuzzy bat head peeked out. "...I can hide in the night."
"...I can't."
He stopped. He glared. He was pissed off at me, for the first time I can remember since my first week of prison. "What?"
"I can't. I have people now."
"People?" He laughed. "People!? These so-called 'good, upstanding people' you're hanging with?"
"I never said they were that."
"Well, aren't they?"
"...they seem to be."
"You're getting weak, Kord. I told you my penalty for weakness long ago." He took out a long switchblade. I stepped back, but instead of thrusting it at me, he stabbed himself in the chest and pulled it to the right. A long cut appeared, and bats started flowing out. Dozens of bats began swarming, scratching and biting, trying to lift me off the ground.
I was almost pulled up and away- or killed- when I remembered something. So I tried as hard as I could and sent a sonic burst. Camazotz stumbled back, and the bats reentered his cut. His eyes were bleeding, and one almost seemed to swell out of it's socket. "Son of a bitch! What the fuck was that?"
"Sonic burst. Sucks when your avian friends rely on echolocation."
"Fuck this. Next time we meet, Kord... I ain't going to play fair and I ain't going to give you any time to think."
Again, this conversation has been replaying in my mind a lot. It's almost as big a scar as when Isaac took me down.
I tried keeping this from O'Zalia. I didn't do well at that. He noticed the bites and cuts, so I filled him in. After nodding his head for a while, he finally said, "Well, we'll keep an eye out for him."
...and that's really all I have to say now.
Dammit, Camazotz.
Just...
...why?
We haven't really been doing... well, doing anything. There's apparently Omicron and Phi, and then there's O'Zalia, who seems to have powers similar to mine. Definitely similar, but... not too similar, I guess. He can speak into people's minds like me. But he can also read them. I think I've even seen him do crazier things than that.
Phi seems to have taken an interest in me. And not in a good way, either. Upon questioning, I happened to answer that I think I've had this thing for... about 15 years? She had this look on her face. You know, the half confused, half startled face. I hope she doesn't try anything. I've actually grown fond of these people. May be Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe they're actually nice people... well, they're nicer than me, and that's a start.
Well... that's not what I really wanted to talk about.
I had a kind of crew. We called ourselves The Demons' Hands, because we each had some pretty strange powers. You know mine, but there were a few others. There was a little pale kid tried as an adult for the murder of three hermits on the beach (with an icicle, no less) that seemed to create icicles and other ice weapons from thin air, there were a couple of religious fanatics who claimed they could ask their god to raise the dead (at one point, one actually did after a man convicted of perjury got shanked in the neck over cigarrettes), there was a man with fangs who saw people in mirrors, there was a man who seemed to have a strong link to insects, there was... oh God, I can't tell what's real and what was bullshit to keep themselves from getting killed.
But then there was Camazotz.
Goddamn Camazotz. Of all of the Demons' Hands, he was the most violent, the most testy, and the one who helped me gain some control over my abilities. And he was my closest friend in that shithole. He helped me get out. I heard his power was that birds came out of his body. I never believed it before, though I guessed the scars that ran up and down his arms and chest told a different story.
I saw Camazotz today. O'Zalia said that I should wait outside, and he would try to evaluate and help me train my abilities to keep them from getting under control.
He was off smoking or doing Tai Chi or God-knows-what he does. It was late. 8:15, late. I was in an alleyway when I heard the squeaking of bats next to me.
"Hello, Kord."
"Camazotz?" He stepped out of the shadows very dramatically. He knew he was putting on a show and he played it up.
"Yes, Kord. It's me. So, how's life outside prison bars?"
"It's going well."
"So, who's you're new friend?"
"Another gifted one."
"Ah. From the outside, though, Kord. Tsk tsk, you changing heart?"
"Dammit, Camazotz, why are you here?"
"Followin' your lead, Kord. You were the first one of us to make it out, and I saw your attempts. Well, I read your attempts. So I decided, if he's getting revenge, why shouldn't I?"
"Revenge? Then why are you talking to me?"
"I need a partner in this. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. I heard most the jury that sent you down the river is under police custody. It'd be a bitch for you to get in there, but I..." He lifted his arm to show me a large, new slit down his wrist. Instead of blood, it seemed to be leaking a black substance. Slowly a large, fuzzy bat head peeked out. "...I can hide in the night."
"...I can't."
He stopped. He glared. He was pissed off at me, for the first time I can remember since my first week of prison. "What?"
"I can't. I have people now."
"People?" He laughed. "People!? These so-called 'good, upstanding people' you're hanging with?"
"I never said they were that."
"Well, aren't they?"
"...they seem to be."
"You're getting weak, Kord. I told you my penalty for weakness long ago." He took out a long switchblade. I stepped back, but instead of thrusting it at me, he stabbed himself in the chest and pulled it to the right. A long cut appeared, and bats started flowing out. Dozens of bats began swarming, scratching and biting, trying to lift me off the ground.
I was almost pulled up and away- or killed- when I remembered something. So I tried as hard as I could and sent a sonic burst. Camazotz stumbled back, and the bats reentered his cut. His eyes were bleeding, and one almost seemed to swell out of it's socket. "Son of a bitch! What the fuck was that?"
"Sonic burst. Sucks when your avian friends rely on echolocation."
"Fuck this. Next time we meet, Kord... I ain't going to play fair and I ain't going to give you any time to think."
Again, this conversation has been replaying in my mind a lot. It's almost as big a scar as when Isaac took me down.
I tried keeping this from O'Zalia. I didn't do well at that. He noticed the bites and cuts, so I filled him in. After nodding his head for a while, he finally said, "Well, we'll keep an eye out for him."
...and that's really all I have to say now.
Dammit, Camazotz.
Just...
...why?
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Plans Foiled
I almost let the voices take over again. No- I'm lying to myself. I did let them take over again. But it didn't matter anyways. He won out anyways. You might be wondering how I can remember this. The voices in my head had, for some reason, forced me to think this same conversation over. And over. And over again. They're forcing me to replay the events that happened afterwards- the shame and the humiliation. And I think the only thing I can do about it is talk about it to whoever reads this.
I was so close. So fucking close. I got past the guards. I stayed out of sight. I had the trap perfectly set for him to meet a somewhat fatal demise.
It started in his Study. I was there. In the closet, garrotte and silenced pistol on hand in case They were unable to complete my goals. Then someone suddenly tried to break into my mind. My masters tried stopping the message, but it came out clearly.
"To you, the Grayskin in the wardrobe, this is Isaac O'Zalia. I am in need of assistance."
The first thought that came into my mind was that it may have been a joke on my masters' behalf. Of course, I hear voices from them all the time. No. It was different. The voice was clear and sharp, and it didn't have any hints of raspiness or scorn in it. I tried blocking it, and when that didn't work, some of the voices left my head to scream into his mind, to block him out. He seemed to be fighting them. It hurt to think. Then he spoke to me- me directly.
"Grayskin, if you can hear me, I am in need of assistance."
Son of a bitch, I thought. Leave me alone.
"Why?"
I flipped my shit as silently as I could at that, then calmly, still keeping an eye on my target, said, None of your damn business. I'll get to you when I'm done.
"I can read your mind, you know. I know what you're planning on doing."
Yeah? So? They ruined my life.
"Murdering people with less power than you. That is not chivalrous."
Chivalrous?! They wouldn't even give me mercy...
"Because they didn't know what was in your head, Greyskin. They wouldn't know what was taking over you. And even if they did... they'd just experiment. Look inside your head, rip your brain out, scrape the fungus you call 'Master' out and try to weaponize it, for all I know."
Yes. For all you know.
"It's too late."
...what.
"I'm inside Doles' house right now."
...you wouldn't.
"Too late."
I remember Doles reacting to some unseen person. Then I heard the exact same voice say, "Stop," and I heard a gunshot. Then I heard Doles struggling. I heard the voice say "There's an assassin in the house. I need to take care of him." Then I saw the closet door flung open and an angry-looking, almost Sephiroth styled man staring me in the eye. Doles' mouth dropped and he pointed at me, backing slowly.
I tried to rush him.
But I couldn't even move.
I couldn't twitch, or walk, or even blink. It was like this O'Zalia person could stop my body with just a thought. So I sent a thought back at him. I tried willing myself to react to his blind spot, to become invisible in plain sight, but I couldn't. It was as if he didn't have one, as if he saw everything. So then I did the next best thing. I sent a loud thunderclap right into his head.
He flew backwards and I was once again chasing after Doles. "You son of a bitch! I'll get you for what you did to me!" I saw a large stone being chucked at me, so I ducked. Looking to my right, there was O'Zalia. His arms were firmly crossed.
"Stop it, Kord. Let it go."
So I did. I don't know what the Masters do to me when I black out, but sometimes I see people go completely senseless, black out, spout gibberish about shoggoths or the primordial plane. My Masters do enjoy their Lovecraft. They've told me a few times that it makes the less powerful humans go weak in the knees, and they get some strange kick out of it. But no... when I woke up from the endless plane of grey they send my consciousness to, Isaac was there. So was some other guy. I forget what he looks like, so I'm not even going to give a crap about describing him.
I was tied up.
"Are you going to behave now?"
I was about to
I was so close. So fucking close. I got past the guards. I stayed out of sight. I had the trap perfectly set for him to meet a somewhat fatal demise.
It started in his Study. I was there. In the closet, garrotte and silenced pistol on hand in case They were unable to complete my goals. Then someone suddenly tried to break into my mind. My masters tried stopping the message, but it came out clearly.
"To you, the Grayskin in the wardrobe, this is Isaac O'Zalia. I am in need of assistance."
The first thought that came into my mind was that it may have been a joke on my masters' behalf. Of course, I hear voices from them all the time. No. It was different. The voice was clear and sharp, and it didn't have any hints of raspiness or scorn in it. I tried blocking it, and when that didn't work, some of the voices left my head to scream into his mind, to block him out. He seemed to be fighting them. It hurt to think. Then he spoke to me- me directly.
"Grayskin, if you can hear me, I am in need of assistance."
Son of a bitch, I thought. Leave me alone.
"Why?"
I flipped my shit as silently as I could at that, then calmly, still keeping an eye on my target, said, None of your damn business. I'll get to you when I'm done.
"I can read your mind, you know. I know what you're planning on doing."
Yeah? So? They ruined my life.
"Murdering people with less power than you. That is not chivalrous."
Chivalrous?! They wouldn't even give me mercy...
"Because they didn't know what was in your head, Greyskin. They wouldn't know what was taking over you. And even if they did... they'd just experiment. Look inside your head, rip your brain out, scrape the fungus you call 'Master' out and try to weaponize it, for all I know."
Yes. For all you know.
"It's too late."
...what.
"I'm inside Doles' house right now."
...you wouldn't.
"Too late."
I remember Doles reacting to some unseen person. Then I heard the exact same voice say, "Stop," and I heard a gunshot. Then I heard Doles struggling. I heard the voice say "There's an assassin in the house. I need to take care of him." Then I saw the closet door flung open and an angry-looking, almost Sephiroth styled man staring me in the eye. Doles' mouth dropped and he pointed at me, backing slowly.
I tried to rush him.
But I couldn't even move.
I couldn't twitch, or walk, or even blink. It was like this O'Zalia person could stop my body with just a thought. So I sent a thought back at him. I tried willing myself to react to his blind spot, to become invisible in plain sight, but I couldn't. It was as if he didn't have one, as if he saw everything. So then I did the next best thing. I sent a loud thunderclap right into his head.
He flew backwards and I was once again chasing after Doles. "You son of a bitch! I'll get you for what you did to me!" I saw a large stone being chucked at me, so I ducked. Looking to my right, there was O'Zalia. His arms were firmly crossed.
"Stop it, Kord. Let it go."
So I did. I don't know what the Masters do to me when I black out, but sometimes I see people go completely senseless, black out, spout gibberish about shoggoths or the primordial plane. My Masters do enjoy their Lovecraft. They've told me a few times that it makes the less powerful humans go weak in the knees, and they get some strange kick out of it. But no... when I woke up from the endless plane of grey they send my consciousness to, Isaac was there. So was some other guy. I forget what he looks like, so I'm not even going to give a crap about describing him.
I was tied up.
"Are you going to behave now?"
I was about to
Scouting Officer Doles, Part 2
All right.
I have everything set up.
I know the time he sets dinner.
I know the time he files his reports to the station.
I know the exact time I have.
4:12 PM - 4:19 PM
I think I found the place I could hide.
There is a wardrobe. It's unused, and he only uses it for the bottom shelves, where he stores police records.
Those may also be useful...
well... wish me luck...
I have everything set up.
I know the time he sets dinner.
I know the time he files his reports to the station.
I know the exact time I have.
4:12 PM - 4:19 PM
I think I found the place I could hide.
There is a wardrobe. It's unused, and he only uses it for the bottom shelves, where he stores police records.
Those may also be useful...
well... wish me luck...
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Scouting Officer Doles Part 1
- 9:15 A.M. Arrive at the Police Precinct with an ironed policeman's uniform and cup of coffee.
- 9:45 A.M. Run through heavy physical training.
- 10:20 A.M. Depends greatly. At this point between 10:20 and at least 1:45, either Officer Doles is either at a desk in the Precinct or tasked with an assignment.
- 2:15 P.M. Coffee break
- 4:05 P.M. Run security for the Precinct itself
- 6:00 P.M. Start to head home to remaining family
- 7:05 P.M. The pastor has shown up around this time for the past three days. From what I can tell, funeral arrangements are being made. His wife is in tears. He himself is extremely depressed.
- 11:17 P.M. The usual time Officer Doles goes to sleep.
This is his general schedule. I have been doing investigations and reconnaissance for the past five days. I will try to pick apart his routine- how he acts- how he thinks.
Ever play Assassin's Creed? I'll try to play it like that. Only it's not a game. Well... it still is, to me. But I know it's a real human life. I shall dispose of him anyways for what he began.
I'll continue scouting tomorrow.
-KORD
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