Monday, October 31, 2011

Everything. Again.

So. The past few days have been. Odd. That's an understatement. I think crazy would be the best way to describe them. Too much to process all at once.
Where to start? Sure. Lockup.
Don't get me wrong. It's nice enough, but a well decorated cell is still a cell.
I don't do well with confinement. Let that be said now.
By the time I got out, I think I could have punched someone. And my legs were tired from the pacing.

And then Shaun shows up with a goddamn guitar, (not that it was in tune) and we had a sing-along.
That was weird. That whole... fucking normal thing sneaking up again. It's disturbing.

The day after? Spent apologizing, making people sandwiches and "fixing" things. That went really well.

In that at one point I told Lucas to shoot me with an unloaded gun. Which I'd handed him. While he wasn't in a particularly stable state of mind. No one can accuse me of being stable. But it seems to have worked out okay.

I think I've sorted that much out?

Opal, and another girl showed up the other night. Had to convince Elaine to take the right precautions.
We drove out to a meet-up point that Elaine gave them. Brought them back in the van so they couldn't see how we went. Probably take them out the same way. They're locked up on the second floor.

Dropped off some food, saw to Opal's arm and head. Arm probably won't work properly.

And now we get to the good part. Blackout. Again. I slipped. And apparently no one noticed.

Apparently I tormented Opal to the point that she tried, and succeeded I might add, to club me with a lamp. It hurt.
Also drugged Lis and then made off in the middle of the night and wound up waking up on the side of the interstate in Kansas. Now, everything gets a little fuzzy from this point on, so forgive me if I'm unclear.
The frightening part in what comes next is that all the actions that followed made a *great* deal of sense at the time. They obviously don't any more.
I came to in my van, on the side of the interstate, absolutely starving. Ate something, go to check things to see just what the hell happened?
No sympathy and apparently I'm the devil.
It is very difficult to explain exactly how this feels. So, what I'd like you to do, is get a pencil, and place it against the webbing between your middle and ring fingers, and hold it there. Now, squeeze those two fingers together.
Suffice it to say, the inability of anyone to believe me coupled with the fact that I was and am still FUCKING TERRIFIED of myself is not a good cocktail, especially on the tail end of a blackout.

Actually, there's a bit of a lie there. Spencer believed me.
It is a sad fucking day when the only other person who you can turn to is Spencer Fitzgerald, dear readers. I sort of... lost it. With the world.

So now we get to the fun part. That's the part where I apparently managed to break into a Loop. See, Richard (Variously Raven, Corwin, R.C.S) is a miserable bastard. I would like nothing better than to wring his feathery neck. THIS WHOLE MESS that I'm in right now, I'm putting on his head. So yeah, it made sense that I was going to hunt his ass down and put a bullet in him. But not really. I don't think I'm that violent.

Spencer, I have no idea what the hell you were doing there. Who invited you? And why the hell did we wind up in New Mexico?

I'm getting ahead of myself though. Spencer also happened to be there, for reasons only known to him, Slender and God I would imagine. I shot him. (For those of you keeping score at home, the number of people I have shot is now: 1). I honestly didn't mean to. He was sort of standing in the way of the gun and I asked him to move but he wouldn't and...

Okay so not getting into the gritty details of that, I lose track of just what happens next, only Spencer's been shot and we're in outside of Albuquerque (yes, New Mexico) ON THE WRONG SIDE OF A SHOOTING RANGE. In case anyone was wondering, tar and mustard gas is a fair approximation of a smell I'd much rather refer to as "death".

So the situation as it stands at this point? Not good. My van is in Kansas, two states away. With most of my things. A little fuzzy on how I wound up at a library, but managed to get in touch with Elaine. Now, if anyone would like to doubt Ms. Logan's character I would like to correct them at this point.

Because you see, in the span of three days or so, I could have very well killed someone in her house. Twice. It's very likely that I could have lit the place on fire. And she bought me a plane ticket and picked me up from the airport. And she hasn't locked me up again.

If anyone would like to question Ms. Logan's sanity, feel free to take it up with her, I won't bother to argue with either of you.

TL;DR? Stuff happened. All at once, and when it was over I'd managed to lose my hat. I don't lose my hat.


  1. Wait, wait, what? Why the hell was I not informed that the Boss got shot? I mean, my protests of "What the fuck, you shot my boss," aside, why did no one tell me about this?

    I kind of need to be in the know to do my fucking job.

  2. I'd love to help you out there Doc, but I have no idea why Spencer wouldn't tell you he'd been shot in the shoulder.
    Last I remember seeing him, both of us were busy expelling horrible black shit, and then... things happened and I don't think I was entirely aware of them.
    Sorry about shooting Spencer.
    If it helps, I really tried not to.

  3. It is apparently not a very big deal anyway, because he didn't bother telling me about it. In any case, stay safe (and sane), Michael.

  4. You did not have to convince me to take precautions with Opal, I came to you and asked if I should even let them in the door. I was about to turn them the fuck away.
    Also. I fucking believed you too. Or do I not count for anything because I was upset enough to fuss a little first (In the same fucking email no less!)

  5. I can't hold the gun thing against you, although giving it to /me/ in that state was pretty batshit even though I don't think you were expecting me to say "Ok then." and get Joel's loaded one.

  6. Of course I fucking shouted at you, that doesn't mean I didn't make it clear from the first email that I believed you!

  7. Right, because the thing you expect the madman to remember is the nice stuff?

  8. Also, for the record, even you would have a difficult time getting more than a room to burn at once.

  9. And, yes, I'd like you to not lie about me on your blog. I dislike people lying about me

  10. You know, I'm almost certain we're in the same house. WHY YES! WE ARE! If you're going upbraid me, you could always do it in person.

  11. You know what? Fine. I'll come fucking find you then.

  12. Does anyone else consider it wrong that my first instinct to this response is "Run and hide?"

  13. Not in the least. Then again, my encounters tend to end in sexy romps but I don't think you're so lucky.
    Do I ever LOVE being a sexy, mysterious bastard. <3

  14. It's... it's like he's asking someone to shoot him.

  15. Well... You could relate to that one... :3

  16. Thank you for that, Lucas. Remarkably tactful.

  17. Well, that's me in a nutshell nowadays. Joking when I shouldn't. ^_^

  18. You and Spencer should go hang out. There's a *great* spot, other end of a shooting range, the other side of Albuquerque. Just keep walking you'll know when you hit it.

  19. I've been replaced by all these crazy people. There's nothing left to troll without coming across as derivative.

  20. At least no one died. (I feel like a broken record)

  21. One can never have enough socks.

  22. There aren't enough Harry Potter quotes in the world.