Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Silence of the LIES

Okay, I THINK its finally safe to post an update about this.

This is SUPER secret!

I've sent the last week adjusting my sleep schedule so I can FINALLY figure out WHERE THE FUCK Moth slips off to in the morning. I also spent this week keeping the frogs away from Moth's INCREDIBLY HYPOCRITICAL ASS so he wouldn't find out about these posts! For a technophobe, Moth REALLY REAAALLLLLY does use these things often. Once a day at least! BAFFLING.

A lot of porn too, which in hindsight, IS A HUGE SECURITY RISK. And he treats me like I'M the security hazard. FUCKING ASSHOLE. 

I don't see the appeal. People ALL kind of look the same. You've seen one person stripped down, you may as well have see ALL OF THEM. Seriously.


RIGHT! SO, my plan to stalk Moth. I call it OPERATION STALK MOTH. I need to figure out what Moth is up to in the Morning. See if the reason why Daddy isn't attacking us is because Moth is doing proxy work WHILE I SLEEP. And if so I need to KILPAL HIM! ... Fuck, ow... I told him to stop and if he hasn't by now he FUCKING DESERVES THIKAS.... FUCK, OUCH.... what the fuck.

Er... right. I will NOT accept DADDSOYS... help, ow... I don't feel well...

I've been a little sick... got a cold or something. Been coughing all week.
But it got really bad tonight. Can't stop coughing.  

And just now I, coughed up some sticky black gunk... internal bleeding... maybe?

I... need to get Moth to check me or something... really concerning...

BOTTOM LINE! I'm gonna find out if Moth is doing work for Father to protect us, and if so I'm gonna GUT him... or something... might wait until we Figure out what this shit I started coughing up is.

PAKASO... ow.. out.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Rehab on the Run

Hate, this stupid keyboard and its stupid broken keys. I just want to run the damn thing through a grinder and take a sledge hammer to the shredded remains of this horrible source of technological despair.

Hate technology. I hate that its everywhere. That the manufactured newborn doesn't already own this world is absolutely baffling. Laptops, radios, phones, TVs, iPods, streetlights, cars, vending machines. His tools are absolutely fucking everywhere. More and more of the mundane things of our society are literally have computers tacked on into them as an advertised feature that seems to do fuck all on the consumers end. The manufactures use it to track us and study us. The newborn will use it to rule us.

I hear we are even shipping laptops to what few places in the world lack such things. Slow crushing our futures for a better, and brief, life in the present. We're all fucked. Father save us...


Picasso is doing better. Her stitches came out today. She tried to do a hand stand. That turned into a face stand and then a crumpled on the floor yelling profanities stand.

She hasn't been able to do much with that whole arm. I think she's suffering a bit of muscle loss in that arm from inactivity and that's fucking with her muscle memory. Or something. I think that's how that works.

I've been pushing her to do one handed push ups, pull ups, finger work, and to try to use that arm as her primary attack arm in spars. I then try to make her do normal push ups, pull ups, and a shorter spar in her normal stance and style.

Not that she seems to quite grasp what I'm asking of her... burden of the unspoken word.

This post is more for her than anything else, so she can read it and understand what I'm asking of her.

And now I publish, pass this over to her, and hopefully we'll see a more productive rehabilitation session.

She'll need to be strong if she's gonna take down Duckie, hollowed or not.

Moth out.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

The Dreamers... Dreams? FUCK YOU TOO!

I can rhyme dream with dream if I want to! YOUR NOT MY FUCKING BROTHER.




Right so, I feel better... ish. I'm not completely like, healed but I can do jumping jacks and like AN push-up if I try hard. I don't know if the wound is still there but THE FUCKING MUTE seems to think so. He won't take these stitches out even if I just sit there and yell to do so it must not be time. I guess. NO idea. Fucking mutes.


You know whats funny? Like REALLY funny? I don't think Daddy is after us. JUST Lord Gutless Fracture. I guess that doesn't make us runners... maybe? We ARE running. Are you a runner if its just the proxies after you? I don't... know.  SOMEONE TELL ME.

Maybe its because of Moth? He still thinks of himself as a proxy. I assume so at least. His STUPID always wear a mask thing is like, a sign of Faith or something.

"We are GIANT TOOLS. Show no spirit, bear no soul, bear only Father's will."
 Something RIDICULOUS like that. I forget the sales pitch. Not that its their sales pitch. Fracture has to fucking make up that shit for them. Lazy ASSHOLES.

Mute is not a legitimate handicap, its just LAZY .


You know, I was thinking... WHAT IF THIS IS LIKE a David Banks deal thing.

I see Moth fidget and squirm in his dreams... some nights he even wakes up SCREAMNG. Can Daddy do that to you? Can he give you orders in your dreams?

MAYBE THEY ARE HAVING ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS IN THERE?! Bartering and stuff! Do you think Moth keeps me safe? 

You know, I also wake up to find hes already gone too... hunting in the morning when I sleep? SUPER SECRET DOUBLE LIFE HUNTING without me for Daddy, FOR me?

Moth, if your reading this and you're doing that, FUCKING STOP IT RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND.

This is JUST as much FATHERS FAULT as it is Fractures and I will not take his FUCKING HELP FOR A SINGLE FUCKING MOMENT.
This will be MY REVENGE. I AM killing Duckie and so help me god if I found out you are making deals with THAT WORTHLESS FACELESS FREAK I will permanently stick you to the wall via a knife through the BACK OF YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.

I'll let you help because Duckie hurt you too BUT THIS MESS IS DADDY'S DOING. HE DID THIS TO US and he is not to be trusted! EVERYONE must pay...

So stop it.

Picasso Entry End.

Thursday, March 7, 2013


Not this blondie.

A new one. Although, I DON'T THINK THAT'S HER REAL NAME. Its just what I call her.

She reminds me a heartless blond haired bitch. Blondie doesn't have blond hair though. She does act just as inhuman, cold, and calculated as the heartless blond haired bitch did though. So I call her blondie, just like I use to call that heartless blond haired bitch blondie.

Also, I'M NOT FUCKING DEAD. Seriously, what the FUCKING FUCK.

Like that STUPID SOULLESS FUCKING MUTE could ever HOPE to imitate me for ANY length of time. FUCKING SERIOUSLY.


Right... this post is supposed to be about Blondie.

So, Moth had just gotten back from food shopping. He brought back lots of delicious can! MOST of which HAD FOOD in them. Most of them. I'm not sure why he brings back empty cans or WHERE THE FUCK he even gets them. Its a mystery.

He came home and redid my stitched. I keep ripping them open... THEY ARE SO restricting. The wound would probably be gone already if I didn't keep tearing it open every day.

I can't help it. I CAN'T FUCKING SIT STILL!

So he restitched me, which hurt like FUCK. And then he got to putting the foods into our bags.

I took the opportunity to play with my brothers sword a little. I LOVE this thing. Its so cool. FUCK HATCHES, swords are awesome.


I was trying to be careful so I wouldn't rip my wound open again. But that arm isn't very strong in general and I lost my grip while I was playing with it and it... sort of... went through a wall.

Cheap FUCKING motel.

I didn't even have to fucking turn around to know Moth was giving me the EVIL EYE.

"YOU shut the fuck up! It's not my fault, the sword did it. Its being a GIGANTIC FUCKING BABY."

That's when we got a knock on the wall. I guess our WHINY neighbor wasn't to happy about the sword that had just gone through their wall.

"Hello? Everyone okay in there?" I asked pulling out the sword with my good arm. "HELLO?!"

A deep voice answered back. "Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to sleep you damn kids."

"FUCK YOU TOO ASSHOLE... sorry about your wall..." and I taped a piece of paper over the hole to hide it. Good as NEW!

Then there was another bang on the wall. I'm was pretty sure at the time that that ASSHOLE has thrown his shoe. Not entirely sure what happened now.

"Asshole. Can we PLEASE move again? I HATE our neighbors. That ones obviously an asshole," I said moving to the other wall and knocking on it. "Don't EVEN know if there someone in this room."

I looked back across the room to see Moth with an his ear to the wall. Ease dropping in on our new neighbors I assumed.

"What's up?" I asked. I could see concern in his eyes. Something was wrong.

He knocked against the wall I had put a hole in. Gently at first but he slowly KNOCKED louder and LOUDER until it got loud enough that that ASSHOLE could possibly have ignored it.

No response from the other side though. I realized it then to. Something was fishy with the NEIGHBORS.

We Nodded to each other. We were pretty sure this was another of Fracture's attacks and we were prepared this time.

I started singing and while I kept them destracted with my position, Moth snuck out the back window and went to go ambush our ambushers.

"If you go down in the woods today you're in for a surprise,
If you go down in the woods today you'd better close your eyes!
They're dying down in the woods today! They scream and Cry before Puss Filled Eyes.
And if you go down to the woods today,.." 

I stopped there and waited for my cue. It came in the sound of the neighbor's door smashing open. I quickly RIPPED OPEN a path portal and stepped through to where I was assuming would be our ambushers flank to assist Moth in fighting them.

"...That SCREAMING never dies!" I sang on my way in finishing the song. I'm a sucker for good theatrics.

I stepped in to find that our ambushers was an ambusher. Just one. A GIRL! Moth was wrestling with her get a hold of the gun she had on her.

He managed to strip the gun of its clip and unchambered the round it had in it and gave her a bit of space to see what she would do. She IMMEDIATELY pulled out a clip and tried to reload her firearm. Moth tackled her ass HARD to the ground. 

I walked over and put a foot on the had that was hold the gun to keep it down. 

"What the fuck do you want lady?" I asked her leaning over he a bit.

"You're Proxies right?" she asked struggling a bit under moth's weight.

"He is. I'm NOT!"

"Bullshit. It's not Halloween, only proxies run around masked full time."

And with that she managed to get a hand free and pulled a little knife and made a swipe for my leg.

I barely dodged the swipe but it cost me ALL of my balance. I fell back back, HARD on my ASS.

Moth to the opportunity to grab her by the head and spam said hard hard on the ground, knocking her out. Surprised it didn't FUCKING KILLER her. She's made of tough stuff.

So we tied her up and felt her up. We HAD to be thorough. She looked resourceful. We separated her from her bags, emptied her pockets and ... PLACES... and then we waited for her to wake up.

I was happy when she finally stirred awake. I though she might have DIED at some point.

"MORNING SLEEPY HEAD," he announced.

She didn't respond. Just made a slow sweep of the room.

"I was worried you might have a concussion. DO YOU?! How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Do you have anything useful to say or do you just have a need to run that mouth dry?" the BITCH said glaring up at me as she struggled against the rope.

"Release me, now."

"I don't WANNA. You'll just attack us again."

"Promise not to make it long and painful."

"FUCK THAT. I promise not to pistol WHIP you to death with you're OWN gun."

"Experienced it already," she remarked. Kind of an odd remark with all that NOT DEAD that she is.
"You claimed not to be a proxy, state what you are then."

"Donno. WHATEVER I WANT, I guess. I've got people to kill. And I do it for me," I said stomping my foot. "NOT for the worthless, faceless, fuck!"

"A proxy turned serial killer... this change of information hasn't altered anything.""

"Fuck you too. What's YOUR story?"

"That's a need to know basis, and all you need to know is I'm eradicating you and your kind. How hurry up and release me already."

"Why THE FUCK would I do that?"

"Because the longer you allow me to sit here the more hostile I will become over time. You're allowing me time to think and I will not be bound forever."

"Analysis: If you're already hostile, why does it matter if your hostilities worsen?"

"Because my mind is preoccupied with other matters rather than to immediately kill you."

"I want a promise that you won't KILL ME!"

"Promises mean something to your kind?" she asked a bit surprised by the very notion. BITCH.

"Fact: It doesn't need to mean anything to me"

"Yet you ask for it."

"Affirmative. Sentiment is only needed on your end"

She gave me a funny look and spent a few minutes studying me before she finally answered, "I promise. Release me."

So I pulled out one of my WORTHLESS hatches and cut her free of the ropes.

As soon as she was free she moved over to the pile we had made with her things and started checking things over. She opened her mouth to say something as she turned but STOP IN HER TRACKS when she FINALLY noticed Moth was in the room too. He'd been sitting behind her on the bed the whole time, like a CREEPER.

She took a minute to do that CREEPY thing she likes to do where she looks you up and down and then pretends she wasn't staring even if you WATCHED HER do it. She finally got back to putting her stuff away. "Names?"

"I'm Picasso. The STUPID FUCKING MUTE is Moth."

She absent mindedly nodded in response looking like THE SOURPUSS she is. She eventually turned back to Moth. "Do you still have my ammo?"

Moth just shook HIS HEAD and then pointed back at her pile of stuff to indicated where we put the ammo.
Fucking MUTE.

"Very well," she said going back to sorting through her own stuff.

I came over to get a look at her stuff curious on what all she had that she was fussing over it all SO MUCH.
"WHATCHA GOT?!" I asked.

She jumped a bit and turn to us making A BIT OF distance from me to her. "Supplies. All you really need to know..." she says giving us ANOTHER ONE of those looks. "How old are you two?"

"I'm 18. Shit breath turned 17 recently. Hes a BIG BOY now."


"Yes. I guess. FOR NOW! Not an OLD LADY yet like you," I teased. She looked... maybe in her early twenties? Not much older, but definitely older then me.

"Not by much" she teased back letting a bit of sass slip through before she BIT her lip and went back to her COLD BITCH self. "So explain this to me, you're proxies... but not proxies?"

"I want someone dead. My boss said NO. We said FUCK YOU. And now they are after us. I won't stop until that ASSHOLE and my LYING boss are dead. I have no idea why the STUPID MUTE is helping me. Same goals I assume."

"So... you're not a proxy anymore... but he still is... but you both separated from your cult?"

"Yes. Fuck them."

"What exactly is... the difference between you two then?"

"He blames the cult. I blame EVERYONE."

"... And you expect me to let you live?"

"Its not like I'm running around KILLING EVERYONE. Just, those that deserve it. One asshole so far... and some hollows."

"Proxies killing proxies?"

"That guy was a cockroach... we thought... he tried to kill us. He was PARANOID as fuck! We sent him out to sea to bleed to death with the FISHIES."

She looked up to Moth for confirmation. "I'M NOT FUCKING LYING!"

"So you are attacking..."

"Bad people, people who side with Fracture, and DUCKIE!"

"No civilian casualties?"

"Nope. Just some hollows, some proxies... that one STUPID FUCKING COCKROACH... and some frogs"

"Runners will die out eventually, mostly a lost cause. Already infected... What happens afterwards if you succeed in your revenge?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll take a vacation. Go RUNNING FOR MY LIFE in the Alaskan sun. I hear its nice up there."

"No more killing?"

"Unless they DESERVE it!"

"Hmm.... Perhaps then I'll save you both for last," she said turning her attention back to her stuff. "Decide then."


"Save him for last! YOU MADE A PROMISE!" I SCREAMED getting RIGHT THE FUCK in her face.

She froze up and looked me over for a moment before shrugging BRUSHING ME OFF like I was NOTHING. "We'll see. You're infected like the rest of them. My hopes are not high for your future."

"And you're not infected?"

"I am but killing myself in the middle of things takes away the point."

"Just keep your FUCKING PROMISE, okay?"

 She looked at me all confuseded. "I do not understand you."

"I get that, A LOT"

She gave me more funny looks before she finally pulled her bag over her shoulder and moved for the door.
"Well, our business here is concluded for now."


"That solely depends on you... I'll be watching you both."

Before she could disappear out the door Moth ran over and pulled her into a hug and them moves back over to his corner like the RIDICULOUS FUCKING CREEPER that he is.

She froze up until he finally let go and moved.

"Please... clarify?" she asked looking to me for an explanation on WHAT THE FUCK just happened.

"He hugs people. EVERYONE BUT ME! I think its a not talking thing."

"I wouldn't have taken him for one to do that... especially to someone that was ready to shoot him," she says looking into her bag. Think she might have been considering shooting him RIGHT FUCKING THEN.

"Hard to say what thoughts hide behind that STUPID FUCKING MASK"

"I do not think you're one to talk about masks..." she said giving me more CREEPY looks.

"Its not a mask... its pieces of... PIECES. Your one to talk... Blondie!"

"Except for the fact that I'm not blonde," she said taking on a SLY smirk. "Color blind, girl?"

"I... maybe! You... remind me of blonde."

"Oooh, not a good save. Continue believing what you will. I have a bus to wait for," she said disappearing out the door.

"Bye blondie! I'll miss you"

"Doubtful," she yelled back. And she was right. THAT BITCH IS CRAZY. Like, THE SCARY KIND.

As soon as she was out the door WE GRABBED OUR SHIT AND RAN FOR IT.

I looked back for a moment and noticed she could see us from the bus stop scrambling to leave.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK, RUN!" I yelled to Moth and we FUCKING BOOKED IT out the window.

And that is how I met Blondie. Fun as she was... kind of hoping that doesn't happen again.

Picasso ENTRY end.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Sword of Trent

BIG NEWS! We can finally spill the big secret. All it took was weeks of searching and a near FATAL injury, but our secret little side project is FINALLY at an end. I was excited to find out what I nearly died over.

That's right! I had no idea what it was we were after or what we were doing. You know why? BECAUSE I SPENT THE LAST FEW WEEKS FOLLOWING A STUPID FUCKING MUTE TO WHAT WAS VERY NEARLY MY FUCKING GRAVE.

Worth it. WORTH IT.

We found one of Duckie's little safe houses. I was surprised to find this one was actually a house. A little cabin in the woods.

It was ominous as FUCK. First off, place was rigged with traps. BEAR TRAPS!  Had to make slow, careful, and thorough sweeps across the ground to get to the actual cabin as not to LOSE OUR FUCKING FEET. I think we set off 3 bear traps walking in a straight line from the window.

Not sure where Duckie got a budget for this kind of shit. Is it possible to steal that many bear traps? SOMEONE would notice? Wouldn't they? WOULDN'T THEY?!

In any event, the cabin was fairly bare. Three book shelves, one against EVERY wall besides the one with the door. The shelves were FILLED WITH BOOKS. Each of them a diary. Rantings of various cockroachs and murders. People I assume died around Duckie?

Some of the books where a series of Diaries all belonging to one person. Each series ended the same way... at least as far as I was willing to check. A final entry in Duckie's shit handwriting. He signed each one 'Speaker for the Dead' and explained what happened.

A SENSELESS WASTE OF TIME. I mean, they're dead. WHOSE GONNA SEE IT. Stupid fucking asshole.

There was one other thing in the room. A toy chest. A FUCKING TOY CHEST. Goofy fuck.

Inside were three items. A book, a sword, and.... my brothers body.

OF ALL THE FUCKING THINGS TO STEAL. I... I didn't even know he had fucking took it.

I... didn't even bury him when he died... went STRAIGHT AFTER DUCKIE. Never looked back. Never really paid attention to what he was doing... just chased him from place to place...

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT... I .... didn't even bury him... How could I... FUCK...




so... I took my brothers sword, because I had apparently mistaken another sword for it before because I'm THE WORST FUCKING SISTER EVER (Moth Edit: I noted that Duckie had put it somewhere here.), and the book, which turned out to be my brothers Diary, and we burned that STUPID FUCKING MAKE SHIFT CRYPT TO THE GROUND.

A proper burial, by fire.


Good-bye Trent, again. Please, wherever you are, do me one favor...