Monday, December 3, 2012

They Don't Check Where They Already Looked

At least they normally don't. Fracture might know us too well.

Oh, forgive me. How cliche' of me to tie in the title and then go back and recap everything I skipped over with the tie in leaving everyone to wonder if I maybe should have used a different title.

This is Moth... I guess. It's a better name than Trent at least.

Better, because it is mine. Stolen titles are worthless. Titles must be earned or given.

Straying hopelessly back on topic, I hate this. I hate this machine, I hate that I have to use it, and I hate that I have to break my vow of silence to communicate with a bunch of faceless titles in a stupid and likely desperate plea for help and attention.

Attention, because she seems to feed on it. Not right now, through. She, she being Picasso, seems to be borked. She was chatting with Lily on Lily's blog through the comments when suddenly she started screaming bloody fucking murder, not that she doesn't do that at random all on her own sometimes, and then passed out. She doesn't often pass out from that. I tied her to her bed so she wouldn't hurt herself. Taped a knife to her hand. Let her cut herself free in the morning.

She screamed at me that I was wasting precious rope when she finally cut herself loose and pulled the duck tape off her lips. Since she got up she has shown an odd phobia of these little machines. She refused to get on them to update this blog thing. So here I am. Fucking bullshit. Hopefully she gets over her stupid little fear soon. Because I hate doing this. It makes me want to slice my fingers open.

On the note of these machines, we are done stealing them from the university. Picasso wanted us to stick around and collect some more just in case we needed them later. Five is more than enough though, besides campus security was starting to figure out it was us taking them and the last thing we need is an arrest.

Hopefully now we can stop calling these things Frogs. Because they aren't. It was a stupid fucking code name for them and I won't miss it.

Although, Picasso keeps referring to them as an 'Army' so I'm afraid she might not be dropping the whole frog thing anytime soon.

We're on the move trying to find a new safe house. Duckie claimed to have kept 12 of them across the United States but he never shared where they were. Not sure even Fracture knows. Finding one of those is a high priority right now.

We had prepared two safe houses for when we were going to declare freedom from Fracture but both of those seem to be gone for good now. Gone in the sense that we can't get to them though, not physically. This is a greater oddity than you might think.

See, Fracture used the Tracker he put in our old machine to find us while we were at both of our prepared safe houses. Both times he attacked, he did so with fire. We decided we would try to live in one of the burned out buildings as a safe house because 'see title' but when we got there we found that both sites were perfectly intact.

It's as if the fires never happened. And now there seem to be proxies living there. Fracture's goons we're assuming, living it up in the places we spent months prepping. Fucking assholes.

As an interesting note, the building we preemptively set on fire to try to catch some of Fracture's goons in the inferno when they showed up looking for us did in fact burn down. For whatever reason, there are goons living there too. They were being a little more sneaky with it though. We almost walked right into that trap.

So we're wandering I guess, trying to find one of Duckie's or Gargoyle's hideouts. 

Don't even know if it's safe for us to use the path anymore. I hardly feel like a proxy. At this point, I feel like runner wearing a mask.

This is not going well. Should have just killed Picasso when Fracture asked.

Moth Out.


  1. Trying to figure out the logistics of your situation is almost enough to give me a headache.

    1. Please address questions in the form of... well a question. Twit.


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