Do not toy with fire
Unless you know that you are learning
Because the only true way forwards
Is when your world is burning
Aug 22, 2012
Finale
The first thing I noticed... when he threw open the door... apart from the cloud of exhaust spewing from the nozzle of his fire extinguisher... was that it looked like he had just been in a fight with a roll of duct tape. I'd have counted it as amusing if it wasn't so sad. Nonetheless, this grayscale mummy made his way out the door with little effort. He That Is was seemingly repelled by the blast. I'm not sure why. There was no indication to suggest the substance was in any way harmful to it. Rather, it moved away as if by surprise. Or as if he were simply trying not to get his suit dirty. Regardless, it evaded the initial spray of foam, leaving an opening through which The Gargoyle was able to make his escape.
He darted past the monster, hopping through the brush with a seemingly practiced ease. Stilts and bears, if I recall... I paced myself accordingly, using the monster's method to silence my movement. I tried to get a better look at him as he bodily parted the woodland overgrowth, tearing through thorns and prickle bushes with complete disregard for safety. I noted the device haphazardly strapped to the side of his head. The noise drew me to it, I suppose. His jammer, I suspect... intended to keep the path ahead clear of loops and illusion. Perhaps it was working... or perhaps He That Is had simply chosen to utilize alternative means of capture. What need was there to confuse the mind of someone who was already determined to run directly to their own demise?
There was a clearing ahead... not quite clear... still trees... plenty of trees, but the brush had died out in the area. Perhaps trampled or devoured by local fauna. Or perhaps nature had simply failed to expand into the area. In any event, it was "more clear" than the areas previously traversed. It was here that he stopped, not out of need to catch his breath or to fish out some secret weapon, but simply because the monster had chosen that very spot to appear before him again. One second there had been nothing, the next, black leaves and a tall faceless businessman. He tried the extinguisher once more. His aim was true, but He That Is did not remain stationary long enough for the burst to meet its mark. It appeared again to one side and lashed out. The Gargoyle dodged, rolling across the ground and backing swiftly into a tree. Held his back to it as he scrawled something in marker across the side of the emergency instructions label, then cast the container aside.
He tries to make another break for it, darting to one side. In a blink, the monster adjusts. He skids to a halt and moves back in the other direction. The same result. He stops. I have enough of an angle of vision to see him grin. Confidence? Or delusion? Hard to say... though I lean towards the latter. He throws his arms to his sides, "This is what you want, right? So come on! Take it! I fucking DARE YOU!!"
I suspect the invitation was unnecessary, but He That Is obliged. In mere seconds the tendrils were upon him and he was yanked from his footing and into the air. I had seen it all before, many a time. He would be ripped apart in an instant. I expected the screaming to begin at any moment... instead, I heard something unusual... something unfamiliar to this scene...
Laughter.
I could see the black whips entangling his body, pulling in opposing directions... The Gargoyle's limbs were clearly under heavy tension, but what little I could see of his face did not seem to reflect the agony I imagine he was in. The sound of laughter grew louder. I watched him struggle to pull his left arm towards his chest, clutching at something there. "Do you understand yet? Have you figured it out?!" His voice was strained. Presumably from pain and exertion. "I already beat you. I won this fight a Loooong time ago! This soul isn't yours to take! This time you don't win! Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?!"
"YOU. DON'T. WIN."
He tore his hand away from his chest. I could tell he was holding something... In an instant it hit me. A heart monitor... all that duct tape was holding... Lying Son of a Bitch
I dove to the ground. I could have transported away, but there wasn't enough time to think about it. An explosion rocked the forest before I ever hit the ground. Wooden shrapnel and debris clattered down all around me. I scrambled back to my feet the moment I heard the scream... or perhaps rather "the noise." I could just make out the framework of He That Is thrashing about within the light plume of smoke left behind by The Gargoyle's grand exit. It wasn't damaged... no simple explosive device of that nature could have possibly harmed it... But It Was Angry
I chose not to stay long enough to see how the spectacle would end. The monster was tearing the surrounding woodland apart, as if searching for any remnant of the victim that had just been forcibly ripped away from him. Like a child throwing a tantrum... His game ruined in the final moments... before he could claim his prize...
Though I suspect that explanation is oversimplifying things within a human perspective... Unfortunately, I've no other means of adequately describing the scene I so swiftly left behind. I returned several hours later to inspect the site once more... Apart from the expansive collection of blood spanning the area, very little of what remained of The Gargoyle was left to be found. He was quite.... thorough... in his method of self-disposal.
Curiosity drew me to his discarded fire extinguisher, half buried beneath cleanly severed fallen trees... There were two notes of interest written upon it. Etched into one side of the canister, with what I assume to have been a knife, the words "Hope Rides Alone." And across the label, barely legible in black marker, the word "Plausible."
With nothing else to collect at the scene and having no desire to remain in such a recently haunted location, I returned to the bunker to remove his laptop and journal from the premises before they could be discovered by any clean-up squads that were surely on their way. The rest remains as he left it, to be discovered by whatever fools wish to seek the place out.
I've destroyed the two articles I recovered from the bunker as per The Gargoyle's request. The extinguisher shall remain with me as a reminder of my complete and utter failure... as a person... and as a friend...
This blog has reached its logical conclusion. There shall be no further correspondence to be found here. My obligations have been fulfilled. Expect nothing more from me.
Regards,
The Third
He darted past the monster, hopping through the brush with a seemingly practiced ease. Stilts and bears, if I recall... I paced myself accordingly, using the monster's method to silence my movement. I tried to get a better look at him as he bodily parted the woodland overgrowth, tearing through thorns and prickle bushes with complete disregard for safety. I noted the device haphazardly strapped to the side of his head. The noise drew me to it, I suppose. His jammer, I suspect... intended to keep the path ahead clear of loops and illusion. Perhaps it was working... or perhaps He That Is had simply chosen to utilize alternative means of capture. What need was there to confuse the mind of someone who was already determined to run directly to their own demise?
There was a clearing ahead... not quite clear... still trees... plenty of trees, but the brush had died out in the area. Perhaps trampled or devoured by local fauna. Or perhaps nature had simply failed to expand into the area. In any event, it was "more clear" than the areas previously traversed. It was here that he stopped, not out of need to catch his breath or to fish out some secret weapon, but simply because the monster had chosen that very spot to appear before him again. One second there had been nothing, the next, black leaves and a tall faceless businessman. He tried the extinguisher once more. His aim was true, but He That Is did not remain stationary long enough for the burst to meet its mark. It appeared again to one side and lashed out. The Gargoyle dodged, rolling across the ground and backing swiftly into a tree. Held his back to it as he scrawled something in marker across the side of the emergency instructions label, then cast the container aside.
He tries to make another break for it, darting to one side. In a blink, the monster adjusts. He skids to a halt and moves back in the other direction. The same result. He stops. I have enough of an angle of vision to see him grin. Confidence? Or delusion? Hard to say... though I lean towards the latter. He throws his arms to his sides, "This is what you want, right? So come on! Take it! I fucking DARE YOU!!"
I suspect the invitation was unnecessary, but He That Is obliged. In mere seconds the tendrils were upon him and he was yanked from his footing and into the air. I had seen it all before, many a time. He would be ripped apart in an instant. I expected the screaming to begin at any moment... instead, I heard something unusual... something unfamiliar to this scene...
Laughter.
I could see the black whips entangling his body, pulling in opposing directions... The Gargoyle's limbs were clearly under heavy tension, but what little I could see of his face did not seem to reflect the agony I imagine he was in. The sound of laughter grew louder. I watched him struggle to pull his left arm towards his chest, clutching at something there. "Do you understand yet? Have you figured it out?!" His voice was strained. Presumably from pain and exertion. "I already beat you. I won this fight a Loooong time ago! This soul isn't yours to take! This time you don't win! Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?!"
"YOU. DON'T. WIN."
He tore his hand away from his chest. I could tell he was holding something... In an instant it hit me. A heart monitor... all that duct tape was holding... Lying Son of a Bitch
I dove to the ground. I could have transported away, but there wasn't enough time to think about it. An explosion rocked the forest before I ever hit the ground. Wooden shrapnel and debris clattered down all around me. I scrambled back to my feet the moment I heard the scream... or perhaps rather "the noise." I could just make out the framework of He That Is thrashing about within the light plume of smoke left behind by The Gargoyle's grand exit. It wasn't damaged... no simple explosive device of that nature could have possibly harmed it... But It Was Angry
I chose not to stay long enough to see how the spectacle would end. The monster was tearing the surrounding woodland apart, as if searching for any remnant of the victim that had just been forcibly ripped away from him. Like a child throwing a tantrum... His game ruined in the final moments... before he could claim his prize...
Though I suspect that explanation is oversimplifying things within a human perspective... Unfortunately, I've no other means of adequately describing the scene I so swiftly left behind. I returned several hours later to inspect the site once more... Apart from the expansive collection of blood spanning the area, very little of what remained of The Gargoyle was left to be found. He was quite.... thorough... in his method of self-disposal.
Curiosity drew me to his discarded fire extinguisher, half buried beneath cleanly severed fallen trees... There were two notes of interest written upon it. Etched into one side of the canister, with what I assume to have been a knife, the words "Hope Rides Alone." And across the label, barely legible in black marker, the word "Plausible."
With nothing else to collect at the scene and having no desire to remain in such a recently haunted location, I returned to the bunker to remove his laptop and journal from the premises before they could be discovered by any clean-up squads that were surely on their way. The rest remains as he left it, to be discovered by whatever fools wish to seek the place out.
I've destroyed the two articles I recovered from the bunker as per The Gargoyle's request. The extinguisher shall remain with me as a reminder of my complete and utter failure... as a person... and as a friend...
This blog has reached its logical conclusion. There shall be no further correspondence to be found here. My obligations have been fulfilled. Expect nothing more from me.
I'm sorry.
Regards,
The Third
Aug 21, 2012
Well then...
If you're reading this, then I'm probably dead. That or I'm going to have a reeeeeally fucking embarrassing moment about 2-3 hours from now when I pull a Konaa. But speaking realistically, I'll definitely be dead by the time you're reading this. I'm not exactly going to be running out that door with the expectations that I'm going to live. In a way, that's my entire purpose for going out the door in the first place and not sitting here screaming and begging the internets for help. To call my own bluff and admit Nightscream right, AGAIN... fucking bitch and her being intelligent and able to read people, I swear to god... AHEM, but I've more or less been "Living for the chance to die" since this all began I suppose. And while I still don't feel I'm necessarily being completely suicidal, the fact remains that living became too much of a chore a long ass time ago. And there is realistically nothing left for me to do here anymore. I've played my part. So it's time to go out with a bang and stick it to this mother fucker one last time before I'm outsies.
Time to face my Fear and all that jazz. No more running, no more hiding. It ends today.
So I figure I just wanted to take one last moment or two to say goodbye and all that fun shit. Because he's starting to beat on the door with those tentacle things and the noise is pissing me off so I feel like making him wait even longer. Because fuck him. He's just being a damned tease anyways. You and I all know damned well that there was nothing stopping him from tearing that door off its hinges five hours ago. He's playing his game and I'm ignoring him. Mostly... the noise is kind of distracting... luckily I already know most of what I wanted to say, so I just have to keep typing and stop flying off onto tangents.
So, all you guys out there in the Proxy structure... Nightscream, Morningstar, Swan, Ember, Wolf, Joseph, all you other fuckers that are too numerous to name... I feel like I should be giving you all proper farewells, you seem to have been my most active readers. Sadly your "boss" is calling me, so I'll have to skip most of the pleasantries here. Just wanted to say thanks for all the advice and the taunting and everything else I had to put up with from you guys. It was interesting... to say the least.
Ah! Here, but I'll leave you with this. It feels appropriate somehow.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENnAa7rqtBM
Keep Smiling... Right? Nightscream is still Best Proxy
For the runners, ahhh... fuck, who do I even know anymore? It's always the same dying or mia scenario with you people, ALL THE TIME. Meh, I can't think of anything specific to say to anybody in particular anyways... My "readership" fluctuates too often for me to keep up with you all anyways. Oh well. I love you all! It was nice getting to know you! Try not to die, you'll live longer! How bout that? Good? Okay then. I'm gonna go outside and fight this monster now. I expect the rest of you to buck up and do the same one day. This is never going to end so long as we keep running away from it. No scars on the back! Face life head on. You're gonna carry that weight. Metaphor. Snappy quip. Obscure quote.
You guys like music too right? Here. Here have some music, actually semi-serious this time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCWfMqVNH7w
I'm gonna blare it at full blast right as I head out the door. Personal anthem/favorite. Loved the original version to death since the moment I first heard it. Always felt like, so long as it was playing in my ears, I was invincible. Guess that buys me about 2-3 minutes...
God I feel so depressing right now. Too much death talk. Lets talk about living then huh? Some of you still have a lot to live for, right? Well, let me wrap up the experiment for you then. Get Down Low is pretty much a failure. If we're connecting back to "The Rules" then there's one fatal flaw. It limits your movement. You can't stay in one place. Not when you're marked. It took all of two and a half weeks since I got here (and Third's protection charms apparently wore off) for him to find me this time. That's still maybe two weeks of Construct free relaxation, but it doesn't last forever. You can't stay still if you're gonna keep running from it. It WILL find you. The same applies to Get Up High. The only reason it works, when it works at all, is because you keep changing location. Never stick around in one location long enough for it to get a bead on you and you're pretty much golden provided you don't do anything stupid.
To this end, "Things I've Failed to Mention Number-- ahh... fuck it, 34." Plan B had a much larger scope than originally suggested when I finally announced what it was. I didn't just locate and supply this one bunker. I located and supplied SEVERAL. They're scattered across North America. With food, supplies, and other basic amenities... They're temporary shelters. For use when you need some time to gather yourself without having to worry about tall men and proxies breathing down your neck. Just remember... two weeks. That's the most you should ever stay in one for. Be they mine or one you've set up yourself. Don't let all these proxies in their group love dens fool you into thinking you can shack up in one place forever. XP They're in another world from you (For now at least). Take care of your business and then get the fuck out.
I'm sending, or rather, have sent, the coordinates of the bunkers to a few trustworthy individuals. If you're in any way familiar with the Runner group structure, then you can guess who has the list. Give them a shout, they can help you out better than I ever could.
So, that's about everything now, isn't it? God, feels like there are so many loose ends... Ugh, whatever. Got my fire extinguisher at the ready, because fuck it, why the hell not? Nobody's tried that one in a while now... LETS BE CRAZY.
In the end, I only regret taking this long to come to terms with my own mortality... not getting to have any of those beers people kept offering me... and failing to weaponize Pinkie Pie. Otherwise... it's been fun. Not very pleasant. But definitely fun.
See you on the other side.
Time to face my Fear and all that jazz. No more running, no more hiding. It ends today.
So I figure I just wanted to take one last moment or two to say goodbye and all that fun shit. Because he's starting to beat on the door with those tentacle things and the noise is pissing me off so I feel like making him wait even longer. Because fuck him. He's just being a damned tease anyways. You and I all know damned well that there was nothing stopping him from tearing that door off its hinges five hours ago. He's playing his game and I'm ignoring him. Mostly... the noise is kind of distracting... luckily I already know most of what I wanted to say, so I just have to keep typing and stop flying off onto tangents.
So, all you guys out there in the Proxy structure... Nightscream, Morningstar, Swan, Ember, Wolf, Joseph, all you other fuckers that are too numerous to name... I feel like I should be giving you all proper farewells, you seem to have been my most active readers. Sadly your "boss" is calling me, so I'll have to skip most of the pleasantries here. Just wanted to say thanks for all the advice and the taunting and everything else I had to put up with from you guys. It was interesting... to say the least.
Ah! Here, but I'll leave you with this. It feels appropriate somehow.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENnAa7rqtBM
Keep Smiling... Right? Nightscream is still Best Proxy
For the runners, ahhh... fuck, who do I even know anymore? It's always the same dying or mia scenario with you people, ALL THE TIME. Meh, I can't think of anything specific to say to anybody in particular anyways... My "readership" fluctuates too often for me to keep up with you all anyways. Oh well. I love you all! It was nice getting to know you! Try not to die, you'll live longer! How bout that? Good? Okay then. I'm gonna go outside and fight this monster now. I expect the rest of you to buck up and do the same one day. This is never going to end so long as we keep running away from it. No scars on the back! Face life head on. You're gonna carry that weight. Metaphor. Snappy quip. Obscure quote.
You guys like music too right? Here. Here have some music, actually semi-serious this time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCWfMqVNH7w
I'm gonna blare it at full blast right as I head out the door. Personal anthem/favorite. Loved the original version to death since the moment I first heard it. Always felt like, so long as it was playing in my ears, I was invincible. Guess that buys me about 2-3 minutes...
God I feel so depressing right now. Too much death talk. Lets talk about living then huh? Some of you still have a lot to live for, right? Well, let me wrap up the experiment for you then. Get Down Low is pretty much a failure. If we're connecting back to "The Rules" then there's one fatal flaw. It limits your movement. You can't stay in one place. Not when you're marked. It took all of two and a half weeks since I got here (and Third's protection charms apparently wore off) for him to find me this time. That's still maybe two weeks of Construct free relaxation, but it doesn't last forever. You can't stay still if you're gonna keep running from it. It WILL find you. The same applies to Get Up High. The only reason it works, when it works at all, is because you keep changing location. Never stick around in one location long enough for it to get a bead on you and you're pretty much golden provided you don't do anything stupid.
To this end, "Things I've Failed to Mention Number-- ahh... fuck it, 34." Plan B had a much larger scope than originally suggested when I finally announced what it was. I didn't just locate and supply this one bunker. I located and supplied SEVERAL. They're scattered across North America. With food, supplies, and other basic amenities... They're temporary shelters. For use when you need some time to gather yourself without having to worry about tall men and proxies breathing down your neck. Just remember... two weeks. That's the most you should ever stay in one for. Be they mine or one you've set up yourself. Don't let all these proxies in their group love dens fool you into thinking you can shack up in one place forever. XP They're in another world from you (For now at least). Take care of your business and then get the fuck out.
I'm sending, or rather, have sent, the coordinates of the bunkers to a few trustworthy individuals. If you're in any way familiar with the Runner group structure, then you can guess who has the list. Give them a shout, they can help you out better than I ever could.
So, that's about everything now, isn't it? God, feels like there are so many loose ends... Ugh, whatever. Got my fire extinguisher at the ready, because fuck it, why the hell not? Nobody's tried that one in a while now... LETS BE CRAZY.
In the end, I only regret taking this long to come to terms with my own mortality... not getting to have any of those beers people kept offering me... and failing to weaponize Pinkie Pie. Otherwise... it's been fun. Not very pleasant. But definitely fun.
See you on the other side.
Earn Your Happy Ending...
I've been sitting around here for a while now trying to come up with something to post about. Some nugget of wisdom I could share or theory to lay out on the table. But nothing has really been coming up. Not sure if I got all jaded and burned myself out or... if there's just nothing left to talk about. So I guess I just figured I'd shut up and spare you all the trouble of reading my bullshit for a while. But I guess I'm finally feeling inspired or something at the moment. Funny how some things time themselves...
Anyways, my title topic here is pretty self explanatory... but not all that easy to pull off. A few have managed it though. Most died in the process, but they felt justified or fulfilled in the end, so it was all worth it, right? A few made it out alive though... a few.
Anyways, my title topic here is pretty self explanatory... but not all that easy to pull off. A few have managed it though. Most died in the process, but they felt justified or fulfilled in the end, so it was all worth it, right? A few made it out alive though... a few.
Michael Henry Abner got out. Saved a scared little girl in the process too. But he also lost everything he knew and every friend he had. Hell of a sacrifice...
Sufjan McBride escaped the tall man’s wrath. He’s living the good life, free of its grasp now. Granted, he’s now also part of a crazy evil religious cult (not a Slender one) that brainwashed him, but... hey, at least he’s happy and unstalked. Count your blessings right?
Celeste McLachlan made it out... not sure how she really managed it. But maybe Zeke can actually lay claim to at least one lasting victory in all of this for it. Assuming she doesn't do anything to screw it up anyhow. Maybe Mary really made it out too, once it was over.
The Delmontes found their way out as well. Took em a while... and they didn’t escape without casualties. But Cynthia and Tony are somewhere far away from this now. Heh… even got new friends and family with them. Who’d have thunk it?
Leon Steel... if he’s to be believed and I’m not misreading, took his bow off the stage. The tall man has no control over him now, assuming it ever did to begin with. But he left quite the pile of dead loved ones in his wake. Maybe someone will bring some closure to Spencer’s mess for him one day...
I don’t know. It’s never easy. It’s a blood stained path of psychological trauma. Nobody gets out clean. Maybe the dead ones are the real lucky ones? But one thing is for certain, if you want to leave this world with a smile on your face... then you’ve got to work for it. You’ve got to face your fears. There is no running away. Not in the end.
I... I spent a lot of time... standing on the ledge of rooftops... just staring down and screaming at myself in my head... “Jump. Jump!” But I could never do it. Told myself it was him. He wouldn’t let me kill myself. It wasn’t time yet. He would stop me. I had no control.
...but that was a coward talking.
That was me lying to myself because I was too afraid to take the plunge. Too afraid of dying. In spite of all the times I told myself I wasn’t. It was just easier to blame something else. But the fact of the matter, is that I was always in control. I chose not to jump. I chose not to face that fear. And I kept running.
Well I’m not running anymore. It’s time to face it. I may still be afraid... but I know I’m the one in control. And I can fight it.
I never told anyone... but that day long ago... out in the park with the stupid water gun. When he “hit” me. There was this huge gash in my shirt... ripped clean through... and burned around the edges. Sliced as cleanly as the gun had been. But there wasn’t a damned scratch on me. Barely even a bruise, if that.
Since the first bunker, when I started preparing myself for the outside. For the conflict. I held on to one simple notion. “You. Can’t. Hurt. Me.” And applied it via my theory of Perception is Key. Just one belief. Focused on it. Built up all my defenses around it. No other influences or add-ons. Start small. Put every effort into it. Truly believe in it. Reject any other notion to the contrary.
And so far I’ve been right. It’s like I said a few weeks back. Every injury I’ve sustained has been dealt by my own hand. The only time he ever really got inside my head was when I lowered my defenses on purpose... to prove a point, in some stupid fit of depression. It can’t really hurt me. I won’t let it.
It's all psychological. Perception is still Key. Perception is ALWAYS Key.
So enough beating around the bush with this “final lesson” bullshit... He’s here. He’s been standing outside the door for the last three hours straight. And he can keep waiting. Cause I’ve still got shit to take care of over here. We’re working off my schedule now you skinny bitch. Get used to it.
Aug 2, 2012
Systems Restored
Problem I guess with telling people you're "going home" is that it's very difficult to do so when you don't have a "home" to go back to. The apartment I was renting has no doubt been sold to someone else by now... all my stuff probably auctioned off to pay my tabs. And my parents? I don't even know who they are anymore. I thought I was just estranged from them but now... heh... guess that was another of Onewinged's lies, so... for all I know they're really dead and the house is burned down. Guess I could ask Third, but fuck that guy. Seriously.
So, Plan B it is.
You guys... you're about to really start groaning at me or something when I tell you this. But I guess there's no avoiding that so... fuck it... like I even care anymore.
Presently, I'm sitting alone by myself in a sealed underground bunker at an undisclosed location in the middle of fuck nowhere with about half a year's worth of general supplies... Again. Looks like we're right back where we started, huh? Well, maybe not exactly, all things considered but... close enough as far as you people are concerned. I am right?
So what am I doing down here? Well, s'not like I had anyplace better to go. May as well "finish the experiment" before I kick the bucket, right? I've had this place in the works since I was in the first one and realized I wouldn't be able to stay there forever. Basically a backup, for when, not "if", things went bad. I guess my intention was to see if it would take him as long to find me here as it took the last time.... would it be longer or shorter or... what? Not sure I really care anymore though. I'm just sorta here now because I don't have anyplace else to go.
Besides, it's comfortable. The air's not very fresh, but you get used to it. It's cool by comparison to outside and I don't need to worry about the weather. Plus I have a little fan. There's a power outlet and accessible wifi, so my laptop is back to 24/7 operation and I can just sit here and play Fallout or watch Power Rangers on Netflix until the Construct decides to show up and kill me.
Also, this chair is not a hard park bench or uncomfortable roofing. Small luxuries. Enjoy them.
Anyways... I'm here if you need me. And if you don't, then... well, I guess I'm here anyways.
So, Plan B it is.
You guys... you're about to really start groaning at me or something when I tell you this. But I guess there's no avoiding that so... fuck it... like I even care anymore.
Presently, I'm sitting alone by myself in a sealed underground bunker at an undisclosed location in the middle of fuck nowhere with about half a year's worth of general supplies... Again. Looks like we're right back where we started, huh? Well, maybe not exactly, all things considered but... close enough as far as you people are concerned. I am right?
So what am I doing down here? Well, s'not like I had anyplace better to go. May as well "finish the experiment" before I kick the bucket, right? I've had this place in the works since I was in the first one and realized I wouldn't be able to stay there forever. Basically a backup, for when, not "if", things went bad. I guess my intention was to see if it would take him as long to find me here as it took the last time.... would it be longer or shorter or... what? Not sure I really care anymore though. I'm just sorta here now because I don't have anyplace else to go.
Besides, it's comfortable. The air's not very fresh, but you get used to it. It's cool by comparison to outside and I don't need to worry about the weather. Plus I have a little fan. There's a power outlet and accessible wifi, so my laptop is back to 24/7 operation and I can just sit here and play Fallout or watch Power Rangers on Netflix until the Construct decides to show up and kill me.
Also, this chair is not a hard park bench or uncomfortable roofing. Small luxuries. Enjoy them.
Anyways... I'm here if you need me. And if you don't, then... well, I guess I'm here anyways.
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