Thursday, June 23, 2011

What Can I Say?

Holy shit, this was a busy week.  First I had to find a decent place to hold a meeting when you know a sociopathic murderer is going to crash the party.  Then I had to work out something to survive meeting that same murderer.  Even before Shady got off her plane, I was on the verge of pulling out my own hair.  But I managed to scrounge together a couple thousand dollars, and I'm holding onto them right now.

I'm not entirely sure what HAPPENED, with how fast it all went.  That Dodgy was a lot more dangerous than I originally expected; a second or two slower and I'd be dead.  But I've had a couple cups of coffee since then, and I think I can actually get my hands to stop shaking long enough to finish this entry.

We met out in the woods, in traditional southern style.  Middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, only one way in and out...all that.  If Shady was a threat, I'd know.  Shady was pretty damn pissed when we met, but being given directions via cellphone and not having any idea of the address or the location probably didn't help there.  Good luck beating her here when no one knows where "here" is.  Anyways, we managed to talk long enough that I was reasonably certain that she wasn't going to kill me.  Intentionally, at least.

That's about when someone ran in from the side as if he were the Kool-Aid Man, and tried to tackle me.  He looked like he was pretty thin, but not the same way I am; this guy was thin because that was how he liked it.  He could've been a lot bigger, I could tell.  I'm pretty damn sure if I'd gone down, I never would've gotten up.  So I did what any other intellectual would do; I used physics.

A step to the side, a kick to his lead foot, a nice grip on his arm...I tossed him over me like a ragdoll.  He clearly had some martial arts training, because the bastard rolled with it and was back on his feet in a split second.  Then again, I had some too.  Physics are important, but Sambo's even more important.  The guy was still coming right at me, and I could see now that he had on some sort of biker's jacket.  I saw the gleam of something metal, and I'm pretty sure it was a knife.

That was about when the shots started.  Dodgy was fast, but not as fast as a bullet.  He managed to avoid the fatal shots, but he still took at least one in the leg; he landed on one knee, but he was already tossing a knife as he fell.  Jesus, that guy could probably catch a snake in the middle of a strike.  I managed to dodge it, but that thing came so close I felt the wind pass.  Luckily, Shady was already on the move, and she...well, let's just say Dodgy probably won't be as fertile as a guy would like.

Shady's currently sitting on my bed, just...staring.  She'll speak when I talk to her, but otherwise she just kinda looks at me.  She's asked me where I learned Sambo, and a few other little things.  I'm really not sure how to feel about her...besides a little bored.  She's not even DOING much.  I think she's trying to figure me out; even I have a little trouble there, so good luck.  As for basement's pretty damn big, and soundproof.

I'm gonna save THAT part of the job for tonight.

Saturday, May 21, 2011


Hard to enjoy the rest of my day after...that, but I'm still trying.  Even the Marriott can only cheer me up so much.  Food is good, service is fine, and the rooms are just enormous.  Hell, the sights are awesome.  But every time I look out that window, I remember...what HE showed me.  Burning buildings, thirty care pile-ups, and...Him.  Except when I saw Him, he was looking INTO my window.  On the thirtieth floor.  He's tall enough as is, thank you very goddamn much.

So my options are pretty much sleep, eat, or blog.  Luckily they've got no shortage of computers here.  So here I am, to share with you guys what happened.  To start, I met Zab about how his own post described; I don't do well in public.  About the only thing he got wrong was my outfit.  It's not gray, it's really more of a white.  Anyways, on we go.  I had to resist taking our phone-babbling friend's device, shouting some static noise and stepping on it; I'd call that my good deed for the day.

I woke Zab up, and almost had to drag him down the stairs.  I'm not a fit kid, and Zab is damn heavy, but I've spent more than enough time figuring out the proper ways to move things that don't exactly feel like moving.  All you need to do is find the right spots.  Anyways, at THAT point we actually talked a bit.  Zab's a good kid, if a bit naive.  Even when I didn't BELIEVE in all this, I wasn't half as good-natured as him.  I just can't find it in myself to do all that stuff society tries to force on me.  So we talked, and I found out that he's had relationships before.  More than I can say, not that it particularly bothers me.

It was...two o clock?  Three, maybe?  Hell, time's a lot harder to grasp with a fucked up circadian rhythm, and harder still when all the clocks are beeping a damn 'Time to Rapture' clock.  By my count, I'm about 7 hours overdue.

Anyways, we heard a lot of activity, even in the middle of the night in L.A.  Zab wanted to ask for directions a few times, but I know a streetwalker when I see one.  Besides, "Looking for a demon" on the night of the Rapture would probably get us crucified.  Luckily for us, we actually passed a guy babbling about one, so that saved us some time.  I'd brought a cross with me, and a pentragram, for what little they do; my Mom's a Wiccan, and my dad's Catholic.  I guess if I hated someone enough they'd be hexed AND smote.

Neither of them did much besides make the son of a bitch laugh, when we found him.  I had one in each hand, and a book tucked between my shoulder when I heard him.  I'm not sure if you guys have ever heard a rattlesnake shake its tail, but Baaztat's voice was a mix of that, a dog's growl, and I'm pretty sure there was just a hint of Gilbert Gottfried in there.  That was THE most annoying voice I'd ever heard, bar none.

So, he appears behind us, and I had to whirl around just in time for a pair of hands the size of my head rip the things from my hands; they're still bandaged, and I'm disinfecting every hour.  At that point, I really didn't have much else to defend myself with, so I just grabbed my back.  He laughed again, and I almost wanted to shove my key in my ear to stop the sound.  And Jesus Christ, he smelled worse than a farm.

I'm pretty sure he had goat's legs, but they might even have been pig's from what little I could gather.  Either way, they were covered in scales, and they oozed some thick red shit I can't even name.  He was about 8 feet tall, and he looked like some sort of gargoyle from the legs up.  He had wings that were as far across as he was tall, and they looked halfway between those weird-ass insect wings and the leather of a bat's.  His head was lopsided, with one eye a few inches higher up than the other, and the sclera were both a sickly yellow that made me want to vomit.

He came to me first, I guess because I was the believer.  A hand that might have made sense attached to a gorilla hovered just over my head, and I saw...chaos itself.  I saw people panicking, saw Him feeding on it all.  I'm pretty sure I saw what's coming if he ever gets it into his head to stop hiding.  Then he spoke again, in words I could actually understand.  I could hear...other shit, just behind it.  I think he was talking in every language at once.  I only really know French, but I'm decent at German, and...goddamn, each language he was just playing with the meaning of what he said.

"Are you a customer?"  God, that sound, and the smell made me go paler than I normally am; and Zab can vouch, that's pretty fucking pale.  I almost looked like I was made of milk, and I couldn't even talk around some sort of solid mass in my throat; my heart?  Yeah, could've been.  I just kinda gaped like a fish, until Zab finally stepped forward and spoke FOR me.

I was barely paying attention, but I know he told it that we wanted his help to fix what He's been fucking with, and he was NOT happy.  It did the same thing to Zab, and I don't know what the hell HE saw, but I know he fainted dead away.  The fucker didn't even have the guts to stay standing for more than a second after it took a step away.  I never should've invited him; he's wasted my money, he wasted my time, and I've had to baby him all the way.

But he bought me enough time to marshal my thoughts, so there is that.  I laid out the deal, just as I'd told Zabulon.  Just as I'd told the Tablet.  Just as I told all of you.

The soul of Zach Briggs, to prove my sincerity.  A lifetime of pain and torture, for his wisdom.  His power.

And the death of Archangel, for the cure to the Virus.

We're meeting him tomorrow, at the same time and the same place, with the proof.

Now I just need to hope these printers work...I've spent five hours working on a contract, and I've had to go back just to make sure my trembling hands didn't mistype a couple dozen times.

It's ironclad.  Neither side is worming their way out of this.

I've got no choice but to deliver what was promised.  But, hey.  I've spent way too long planning this.  He may be eight feel tall, and he may have powers I can't dream of...he may be old enough to have seen the world created, for all I know.  But he still THINKS like a human, and that means that this is my turf.  He thinks I'm too scared to try and screw him over.

To be honest, I think it too, right now.

Saturday, April 2, 2011


Well, isn't this just fucking great.  I wake up last night with someone rummaging through my dresser, and when I try to call them out on it the guy runs out.  Of course, this place is SUPPOSED to have the best security; those little card slots in the door instead of keys, their own goddamn alarm system for each room.  Cost us a fortune, but it wasn't anything we couldn't afford.  I tried to chase after him, threw on the first coat I could.  Great lot of good that did, when they basically vanished in the stairwell.

I walked back to my room, and surprise surprise.  Locked myself out.  So I had to sit outside and try to get what sleep I could pantsless, shirtless, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.  My parents slept right through it, every second.  The camera's gone, so I can only guess that I actually did something right.  And, of course, the fuck had to go and take our money.  Cash, at least.  We're cutting the trip short and coming back home ASAP.

ANOTHER pointless trip.  Next time I'm going out.  WAY out.  Like Texas. :c

Fuck it, too tired of this bullshit for the titles right now.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Massy's Nice

Would be nicer if I haven't spotted three guys tailing us already.  My dad has been looking out for guys in black suits with guns; one of them fit the description, but we threw him off pretty easy.  Fisk isn't really trying that hard, lately.  What's keeping him so occupied?  I'm getting a little worried; even beurocrats can get things done, as my dad will attest to.  The other two...they were what worried me.  One of them was about my age.  Hell, they could've been a classmate, even.  The other was old enough to be my grandfather.  Could barely even move without a cane.

I don't think they were especially concerned with being seen; after all, it's not like He can't send more, right?  No, he just wanted to get into my head.  I think that's a good sign, since he wouldn't be getting in my head if I wasn't onto something.  We checked out Plymouth Rock, and got some nice photos.  I'm a little worried about what we'll see in them, but they're not digital so I've got at least a week to wait.  Until then, we're going out to eat.

I swear to God, the next person who predicts I'm from the deep south before I actually talk to them is getting stabbed with a butter knife, and that's NOT a joke.

Anyways...any places of interest, guys?  I don't know much about this state's history.

-The Meteorologist

Saturday, March 26, 2011

School seems so insignificant, ever since all of this started.  But I'm sure you'll all be happy to know I made it through my midterms with flying colors.  You'll all be pleased to know that my parents are celebrating with a road trip.  I'm thinking that we're gonna go to Massachusetts.  Who knows?  Maybe I can find out if He came over on the Mayflower, so to speak.  I don't even know what good it'll do anymore, but...goddammit, there's gotta be something I can do to help here.  We're dropping like flies, and I've sat on the sidelines long enough.

I guess if I can find out how he got here, I can...I don't know, send him back?  Shit, I'm not sure.  But with how little we know, finding out more won't hurt us that much.  Ava and Reach said his influence is especially strong in Ireland, but I can't imagine why; Europe seems like the obvious answer to me.  And I don't think Irish immigrants came here until long after the Mayflower.  Fuck if I know, I always hated history before the 1900s.  I'm much more at home with science and math.

We're heading out in a few days.  I should be able to keep you guys up to date, but who even knows what we'll find out here.  I guess I've been taking Tony's advice, because I had my parents look around for some martial arts classes.  Nothing yet, but we're checking it out.  Who knows?  Maybe there's some ancient martial art that was made to kill Him, or drive Him off.

That's not too much to hope for, right?

-The Meteorologist

Saturday, March 19, 2011


Well, New York was fun.  Not a single thing to see or speak of when I was there, but it was fun.  I took that bag with me; my dad knows about it, but he thinks it's some guy that Fisk didn't like.  I don't quite have the heart to tell him what's really going on yet, but I'll have to.  Though I will admit, a person can find just about ANYTHING in New York.  That place was amazing, and I do not regret my trip in the slightest.  I do, however, regret the work I have to make up now.  I spent all this time just getting up to date, but I finally managed it.  God, this weekend is going to be ALL relaxation.

I've been thinking about this bone, and what it must mean.  Obviously we know that he's been around a long time; even if this thing came from the first colonist, that was no time at all ago to him.  But I'm still curious when he first came HERE.  For a while, the stories were all from Germany, maybe a few in Egypt.  He spent a lot of his time in the Eastern Hemisphere, and I don't remember ANY stories before the internet came out.  Maybe that's because Fisk has been doing his job, but who knows.  What I DO know is that this bone couldn't have been younger than a hundred years when I dug it up.  It almost FEELS ancient.  I've almost finished this semester, and my teachers know me well enough; if I bail out immediately after the finals, I don't think any one of them is going to hold a grudge.  For the next few weeks, I'll REALLY be on the sidelines, hopefully doing what I can along the way.  But don't expect me to be running back into the woods any time soon.

Things have been pretty quiet up to now, but I've been keeping up with Ava.  Something tells me Redlight is waiting to see if that pans out, before he gets any more pulled into this.  I...God, there's really nothing I can say to her now.  All I can say is that EVERYONE has their skeletons, and as soon as she's up and about, a little bit of a discussion may be in order.  We've spent a long time elevating each other, forgetting that most of us are barely old enough to lease a house, let alone stop Him.  But it's about time we start remembering that we're not flawless.  Redlight's been trying to get to us by saying our "heroes" aren't so flawless.  If we're gonna want to keep any form of integrity, we're going to need to dump our dirty laundry before he has a chance to do it FOR us.  He'll find a way to turn it into something MUCH worse than it is, I'm sure.

Remember, guys.  There's no such thing as a hero.  Just people who do what needs to be done, whether they want to or not.

-The Meteorologist

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Heading for New York

Would it surprise any of you to hear that I met a Proxy at that internet cafe?  No?  Me neither.  I had been watching the doorway and the consoles for some time, just to make sure.  I was there 3 hours and I drank 5 cups of chai tea.  Normally, I love the stuff, love it to death.  But drinking cold chai tea is pretty nasty.  It goes down hard, and all the herbs feel like they're fighting against you.  It's like liquid PAIN.  But I soldiered through, to make sure that I was up to date, and to make sure nothing was going to catch me by surprise.

The proxy tried to sneak his way towards me, probably so he could ask for my console and then mug me outside or something, but I was having none of that.  Crowded place or not, I'm not going to take that shit.  So I screamed "THIEF!" at the top of my lungs, and tossed the newest cup of chai tea at him.  To those curious?  Chai tea is usually steeped at just below boiling; 210 degrees.  Compared to coffee, a mere 185.  That guy couldn't do anything but scream as I headed outside, and I hope he's spending a night in a cell.  That'll teach Him to underestimate me.

Of course, my dad was busy with his own business, and he was uncharactaristically stoic about it.  I think that he's starting to get serious about this, too.  I hope so, because New York may very well be the worst place to go hunting for Slendy.  There are literally HUNDREDS of places I'm going to have to scrounge through.  It could be weeks before I cover everything, and I STILL need to get back home before too long.

But New York feels like the right place to start.  It feels like he would have liked it there, when he first came over.  I'll just have to go look in Chinatown or something, I guess.

-The Meteorologist