Friday, July 22, 2011

Off the Run

Been a while since I've posted anything.  Figured I should let you guys know what's going on.

We went back home on my birthday.  Since I'm no longer being actively pursued, we decided to just stay home instead of going back on the run.  It's pretty nice, I'm never taking my bed or wifi or air conditioning for granted again.  My cat is...less than fond of Axel.  Understandably enough.  We're trying to condition Axel to not kill every cat he sees, though, so they have to be together every now and again.  They'll just have to suck it up.

Axel's training is going pretty well, too.  He's potty trained and he'll sit and lie down on command.  I'm also training him in case of an emergency, namely when to sic/when not to sic and who to sic/who not to sic.  He stays by my side without wandering off or going after every small animal he sees, too, which is good.  My cousin has a German shepherd puppy about the same age and they are now bestest buddies.  One of my friends adores German shepherds and is really jealous of my little part-German shepherd mutt.  She's also still pissed that we dropped her back off at home from my escapades in evading the Chosen, but she'll just have to suck it up, too.

Axel isn't the only one being trained.  I am slowly but surely becoming a badass.  First, let me elaborate on my grandfather's skills: he's great with hand-to-hand fighting, knives, certain types of guns (mostly old pistols and rifles), and that damned shillelagh.  Not so much with Theurgy.  See, he learned everything he knows from another of his war buddies who was also helping the other other guy not end up working for ol' Tall, Pale and Faceless.  (I'm really gonna have to tell you guys the whole story at some point, because explaining it like this is getting difficult.)  Well, anyway, this guy taught my grandpa some stuff and then got killed.  Grandpa didn't really care to learn any more after that.  Or, at least, he didn't find anyone to teach him.  Could be either.  Anywho, he's gonna teach me the Muggle fighting skills and find someone else to teach me Theurgy.  He's got connections, apparently.  Oh, and since I don't have a shillelagh he's gonna try and translate that fighting style to be used efficiently with a baseball bat because my current skills with said weapon amount to flailing around like an idiot with it and probably putting myself at more risk than if I was unarmed.  And yeah, I'm not bad with knives (aside from accidentally cutting myself all the time), but I got (un?)lucky that last time...gotta learn how to actually fight with them.  Also learning to fight effectively unarmed instead of running, flailing, scratching, kicking for the crotch, etc.

Two of my friends are in Taekwondo and they've agreed to start teaching me some of their moves.  Another of my friends practices parkour, same deal.  Yet another has decided to create a weaponized version of the glomp and teach it to me, despite the fact that she nearly kills me every time she gives me a NORMAL glomp.  Which is often.  I love my friends.

So...yeah.  I'm a Rebel and apparently a Threat because of my connections (a phrase which here means "ability to contact Vadiir and his willingness to help me out every now and again"), so I guess I should learn to fight like one.

...I hate fighting so much.  I really don't like violence in general, despite my sense of humor and my taste in movies.  But it's a fact of life, I guess... how I've killed someone...

...I'm not a killer...just a kid in over her head...

And now I'm down again.  Gonna cut this entry off before I start angsting and wallowing in self-pity.  Not my thing.  I'll go make brownies and blast some loud, fast, rebellious music instead.  Ciao, folks.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Big Damn Heroes

They may say that there is no good and bad, no right or wrong, no heroes or villains.  Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't.  But I think last night counted as a Big Damn Heroes moment, no matter what we are.  Maybe just Big Damn Rebels.  But I digress.

For those of you who don't follow the chats (I'm guessing none, but just in case), I found my grandfather.  Or, rather, they did.  He was being held captive in a Commune.  Said they'd let him go if I joined them.  And I agonized over that for a looooong time, let me tell you.  I knew Grandpa would want me to leave him and continue my running.  I also knew I had a conscience and that if I ran he'd die horribly and be turned into a White Mask.  (I met one of those, by the way.  Didn't kill it because I had no Ash Williams-y weapons.)  If I get into all the details about my choices, though, I'll end up writing a novel.  And this is probably gonna be a really long post anyway.  I might detail everything in a future post, who knows.

Anyway, I tried thinking of a third option.  The only one I could come up with was a rescue attempt.  My only useful skills as of now are in dodging, running, escape, and generally not dying.  Not a great set for storming a place filled with people far more powerful than yourself who /will/ kill you if they can't make you join them, and doing it alone, no less.  So, that was pretty much out unless I was going for suicide.  And then ol' Tall, Pale and Faceless would get my Soul anyway.  So...yeah.  Pretty much out.

We had been talking about the Evil Dead series earlier, and I thought to myself, "Man, if only I had Ash with me, he'd kick all their asses with ease!"  But, unfortunately, I don't know anyone that badass because no one that badass exists.  (Sorry, everyone that exists.  You just aren't Ash Williams.)  So I asked Vadiir for advice on Formspring.  He offered to help me.  And, although he's no Ash Williams, he's a pretty epic badass.  So I made my mind up.  It was rescue mission time.  *puts on sunglasses*

Vadiir showed up and we headed to the Missouri Commune while Wilt laughed at us over in Limeyland.  Actually, I don't know if the chat ever figured out that I wasn't going it alone.  Probably better that they didn't.  But anyway.  We left Axel (my dog, in case you didn't know) tied to a pole and snuck up to the entrance as quiet as could be.  I was expecting a stealth mission; get in, grab Gramps, get out.  I seemed to have forgotten that this was Vadiir we were talking about.  He kicked the door down and charged inside.  I just grabbed Ziggy and followed him in, having no idea what else to do.  (Ziggy is my bowie knife, by the way.  Yes, it actually exists.)  The halls of the Commune were eerily quiet and empty as we charged through.  No one in sight but us, no sound but our footsteps.  This went on for a while (freaking me right the fuck out, might I add) until we turned a corner and nearly got shish-kebab'd.  Knives flying at us, lots of them.  I mostly dodged them all, getting away with a few scratches.  Vadiir dodged a few and parried the rest.  Yeah, as it turns out, HappyRobin (former Leader of the Missouri Commune and 4th Circle Theurge) is versed in Aertheurgy and uses it to throw knives at people.  Knives that she can control and make them turn corners and stuff.  And she had such a cute-sounding name, too.  How misleading.  We mostly countered this by hiding behind things for a while.  Vadiir told me he needed to get close to her, that he could take her down with ease if he could close in.  I then did something that will allow me to live up to, I think, all of my various names and titles.  I doubt anyone will ever question why they call me the Jester, the Fool, or anything referencing the Doctor - including LastLord - again.

The following exchange happened.

"Hey Vadiir, you know how I sometimes have brilliant ideas?"


"...this isn't one of them.  Sorry!"

And then I leaped out from behind our cover, running and waving my arms around all while yelling, "LOOK AT ME I'M A TARGET!!!"

It may have been one of the dumbest things I've ever done, but - and here's the thing - it /worked/.  HappyRobin turned her attention (and her knives) to me.  I once more relied on all those skills I'd learned from playing dodgeball in school.  There's a reason I was always the last one "out".  No one could ever hit me, even when I was outnumbered ten to one and the other team had a ball each and all threw them at the same time.  Well, apparently it works with knives, too.  A few papercuts and one relatively deep gash on my shoulder, sure, but otherwise I was fine.  And, while she was distracted by the madman with a box nutcase with an apparent deathwish, Vadiir had enough time to get in close.  There was fire and the flash of metal and she was on the ground.  Dead.  Or, I'm pretty sure she was.  Vadiir...made sure anyway.  He really does enjoy stabbing things.  Yeah, that...wasn't exactly fun to watch.  Her removed her Soul, too, so she won't be Resurrected.  That part happened either before or after all hell broke loose, can't remember.  Yeah, after HR died, chaos ensued.  Chosen came out of fucking everywhere and nowhere, probably the whole damned Commune. My plan, as usual, was to...well, not die.  I was waving Ziggy about as I ran, mostly as a warning, because I really do know how to use it.  One of them caught up to me and I saw him pull his own knife.  Not even thinking, I yanked myself out of the way of it.  My arm snapped back and buried my own knife in his neck.  I was immediately covered in blood.  My face was covered, my shirt was covered, hell, my pants were nearly covered.  He staggered back and collapsed, blood still spraying out of his neck.  I was horrified.  No...that's not a strong enough word, but I really don't think one exists.  So I was horrified.  Still am.  You gotta remember, the most devastating act of violence I'd ever inflicted on anyone before this was probably that time I kicked Bodie in the shin hard enough to break his skin through his jeans.  (In my defense, he deserved it.  Bullies, eh?)  And I felt bad about that.  But this...I murdered someone.  Stabbed him in the throat and watched him bleed out.  It...I never wanted to kill anyone.  That would be to sink to their level.  Like Nietzsche said.  But...I...I guess in war, you just have to do things, even if they kill you a little inside.  Even if it means ending the life of someone who was maybe just like you at some point...but, no.  I digress.  Gotta stick to the story.

I stood there in shock for...I don't know how long.  I was shaken out of it by someone grabbing my hood and dragging me off towards a hallway.  Lucky for me it was Vadiir.  We ran down a flight of stairs at the end of the hall, dashed in the door at the bottom, and promptly shut and barricaded it.  Their basement was all stone walls and floor, cobwebs everywhere.  A dungeon of sorts.  And chained to the opposite wall was my grandfather.

"Looks like you made the stupid decision," he said with a smile.  "Atta girl."

I picked the locks pretty easily.  (I learned that skill because I once put a chain and padlock around my neck to be like Sid Vicious and promptly lost the key.  Yeah, I was dumb in middle school.)  When he was finally unhooked, he staggered a bit before returning to his usual cocky gait.  He grabbed his shillelagh leaning against the wall and gave Vadiir a wary look, apparently having just noticed him.

"It's alright Grandpa, that's just Vadiir.  Don't worry, he's cool.  He's on our side."

"Is he that English guy that was after you?" my grandfather replied warily.

"I'm not going to kill her," Vadiir shot back with an edge to his voice.

"Hey," I said, trying to stop the stupidity that appeared to be brewing.  "How about we save the distrust until after we get the hell out of here?!"

They seemed to agree on that being a good plan.  Vadiir opened the door and started stabbing and flamethrowing.  My grandfather waited for anyone that got past Vadiir.  I watched him kill several people with one whack of the shillelagh each.  He snapped necks and caved in skulls, mostly, but there was one unlucky sonofabitch that got hit full force in the Adam's apple.  He coughed up a bunch of blood and staggered until he hit the ground, still gagging.  I think he choked to death.  This went on until we three were the last ones standing, covered in blood.  We made our way outside the complex and blew it up for good measure.  No, we didn't walk slowly away from the explosion, not facing it.  Would've been awesome, but this isn't some action movie.  Not to my knowledge, anyway.

We found an abandoned farmhouse and stayed the night there.  We talked for a while, but Gramps was understandably pretty exhausted. (Actually, we all were, but Vadiir and I hadn't been captive for god-knows-how-long.)  He went to bed relatively early and Vadiir and I were left awake.  So he and I talked and stuff.  At some point I finally got around to making myself Immune as opposed to just carrying a vial of blood around.  We both went to bed at some point, but I didn't sleep much (if at all) and I kinda doubt he did, either.  When he left in the morning, Grandpa told him that he was alright.  For an Englishman.  He said it with a grin, though, that I'm pretty sure meant that he thought Vadiir was a pretty cool guy, English or no.  (My grandfather's a bit strange.  He's not nearly as stereotypically Irish Catholic as he acts.)  I never realized how much I'd miss those little faux racist comments.  I never realized how much I'd miss my grandpa, I guess.  He absolutely adores Axel, too.  And, while he was still talking with Vadiir and I, he finally told me a damn thing or two about his connection to all this.  Apparently he's a pretty good Alchemist (capitalized?  I dunno, probably) but not so great at Theurgy.  He's gonna teach me what he knows, though, since I can practice it without killing myself now.  Well, probably.  Heheh.  It also turns out one of his IRA pals was Chosen against his will a long time ago and my grandfather tried to help him out of it.  It...didn't work.  So...well, at least he has experience with this kind of situation.

He's gonna start teaching me some Theurgy tomorrow.  This is gonna be good.

Oh, and Nein?  HE IS PISSED AT YOU.  Just thought I'd let you know.

Friday, July 8, 2011

St. Louis

I really need to get out of here.  Sure, big cities are a great place to get lost in the crowd and hide, but there's so much crime here, so much hardship.  Some guy actually tried to mug me at knifepoint.  I got a new knife (a pretty nice switchblade) and I left him on the ground.  Never fuck with an armed Chosen.  As if I needed weapons, I just kicked him in the naughty bits.  Hard.  I heard a crunch.  It was great.

I saw a stray puppy and fed it what was left of my hotdog at lunch.  You know what they say about feeding strays?  How they will follow you around forever if you do?  Yeah, they do that.  At a distance, of course.  And while I was in the InnerCircle chat yesterday, I heard him barking.  So I looked out the window and noticed a few malevolent masked men (and maybe women, wasn't really looking) headed towards the building I was in.  One of them showed up inside.  I had let my dog inside.  A dog that is a mongrel of some sort, but is definitely related to a wolflike breed, probably a German shepherd.  He didn't take kindly to people going after his meal ticket, apparently.  In any case, that masked marauder's arm should probably heal decently.  Maybe.  And I'm still alive and running, obviously.

So yeah, I have a new dog that I don't have to teach the command "Sic 'em".  His name shall be Axel.  Or Rocco.  Or maybe Jagger.  I haven't decided.  But he shall be my new companion.  I hope he lasts a little longer than my previous ones.

Speaking of which, Grandpa, if you're reading this (which I'm sure you aren't unless you magically figured out how to work the internets), call me or something.  All I want is a status report, just to know what's happened and how you're doing.

Anywho, planning on going to a Market tonight and buying some useful trinkets.  I would have gone last night, but I passed out.  It happens.  So I'm going to buy my new companion a collar and leash today and I'm gonna work some magic so I can take a shower and stop reeking of BO and anger.  But mostly BO.  Yeah, it's pretty bad.

I'm really hoping to find a Relic or something that makes me unaffected by normal water.  Seems unlikely, but that would be awesome.  I miss swimming and I miss sitting in the rain.  Wishful thinking, I know, but it keeps me sane.


It keeps that little shred of sanity I have left intact.  Heheh.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Really quick update

He's worse at staying dead than Kenny, Rory, Jason, and Captain Jack (either one).  Combined!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a suitable way to celebrate.  Fireworks are legal here~!

Heheheh, did they really think it'd be that easy?  You can't keep him down~!

Roller Coasters

Bad day yesterday.  Started awful, became awesome, got far worse.

First Stripes came after us.  You know how that went.

Then Nein talked to Vadiir via email.  I later learned that she wanted him to talk her out of joining the Commune, but that's for later.  He decided to use Mist travel to pick us both up and drop us off in America.  We told him about the whole apocalypse thing.  My stalker memory was pretty useful in that.

So, that had turned a terrible day pretty good.  For a while.

WhiteSuit told Jenifer that if she joined the Commune, he'd stop chasing me.  She accepted his offer.  They left last night.  I feel absolutely devastatingly guilty about that.  Especially since I had been considering giving him a similar offer for a while now, her freedom for me.  And it didn't even really make a difference.  I'm still Chosen, I just will end up getting chased by some other Commune.  Or Abandoned, which I'm hoping for.  "Yes, you'll get to share your fate with KarmA and your lover."  WS's such a shipper.  And a terrible person.  I didn't think I could feel much worse. Shouldn't have jinxed it.

Vadiir's dead.  CrimsonBranch slit his throat in his sleep.  He had been weakened because of Mist travel.  I honestly don't know how I can feel all this guilt at one time and not drown or something.  But yeah, I was on the chat at the time.  CB was mocking me so much.  Talking about blood and licking goddamned everything and he wore Vadiir's mask and he...presumably did some rather unsavory things to it...and he burned it.  The motherfucker burned Vadiir's mask.  And kept his knife.  Rage.  Fury.  Anger.  You have no idea.  I managed to keep myself outwardly pretty composed aside from a few outbursts at the beginning before my rage turned to fury, and my fury is cold.  Therefore, I was able to keep my composure quite easily.  He wouldn't have wanted me getting all emotional and doing something stupid and/or self-destructive, anyway.

I feel worse right now than I ever have.  Never has giving up the fight looked like such a wonderful option.  But.  I can't do that.  That would be pretty much the opposite of what Vadiir would want me to do.  He would want me to keep running.  To keep living.  And I'm going to respect his memory.  Not to mention, he's worse at staying dead than Jason Voorhees.  So what happens if he comes back to find out I've an heroed/joined the enemy?  Also, if I join them, I can't be friends with Alexis and KarmA anymore!  It isn't like I'm friends with any of the Chosen anymore!  Well, not counting Nein.

To Vadiir and to Nein, I'm sorry.  I'm so, so sorry.  I could repeat the phrase until time stops and it wouldn't be close to how I actually feel.  I just...I'm sorry.

Just...fuck.  No contact from my grandfather yet, either.  I'm all alone in a world that's after me.  And I'm not giving in.  I never thought I could have this much resolve, this much strength.  I always thought I was a total coward who would resort to pleading when running failed.  Heh.  I guess I've toughened up somewhere along the line.

So here it is.  I will not die.  I will not join any Communes.  I will keep running and I will keep on living.  I will bite back on my anger until it is time to let it out.  I will not let my fear show.  I will honor those lost and keep up the fight.  For Vadiir.  For Nein.  For my grandfather, wherever he is at the moment.  But mostly, for me.


I love you, Vadiir.
Stop being dead before your time or I'll make you regret it.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Close Encounters

So, right.  I tweeted it, but in case you don't follow me (@DoctorSaxon, in case you didn't know), the Iowa Commune's Session was yesterday.  Or was it today?  I'm losing track.  But anyway.  Since it was a holiday, they decided to try and take us in.

Except no.  "They" isn't the proper word.  More like "he".  Yep, WhiteSuit himself decided to show up, and he brought his Relicblade and his Demented Horror Mask and his damned red eyes.

Yeah, let's not talk about that.

He showed up a little after midnight.  There was a struggle.  Some parts are blurry, some I'd rather not remember, some I can't really believe could happen but have stuck in my memory.  Like, I can swear I saw Jenifer holding a Ring Pop and staring at it dumbfounded.  Pretty dumb, huh?  But I digress.  So basically, Grandpa went at him with Theurgy when he showed up. was a pretty epic fight, I think.  My memory of it, like I said, is a bit hazy.  But my grandpa can move like a fucking ninja.  Seriously.  If WhiteSuit had been slightly less, y'know, monstrously strong, he wouldn't have had a chance.  As it is, was kinda like fighting a dragon that happens to use the sword that could kill it (and everything else).  Not easy.

I've no idea how long it lasted.  Probably only a few minutes, but it felt like hours.  But there was fire and blades and gunshots (most fired by me into the air, I don't trust my aim with guns) and blood and a blinding flash and a loud boom and I went flying off the side of the mountain.  I thought I saw another person or two, but that's purely guesswork as I was immediately in the trees and unable to see out of them.  I slammed into pretty much everything on my descent, which was only stopped by a freaking river that I had to hop out of asap because the water starts hurting after a while.  I don't think it's as bad as the other Chosen since I don't think my Sickness is too advanced and I haven't been Session'd, but it's enough and I'd rather not be Mist, thanks.  (Vadiir told me all about the Chosen and water since we're totally bros now.)  I dragged myself out and started running as best as I could with my injuries.  I ran until I passed out.

I woke on the roadside and have been walking (more like limping) along it, occasionally hitchhiking, trying to find somewhere to lay low (check) and trying to find my companions.  Nein tweeted earlier, so I think she's alright, but she never got back to me...and I've no idea about my I'm kinda stuck here until I get a lead.  If you've got any ideas to offer, now would be the time.

By the way, I'm not in France anymore.  Just thought I'd let you know.