New Layout

Hello there! Exciting news! I've redone the this blog's layout! And now I'm finishing 100% more of my sentences with exclamation marks! Help me! It's a sickness!

Silliness aside, I am really excited for about this reformatting. If you haven't noticed it yet, there is now information being laid out for you on both sides of these blog posts. That doesn't sound cool but it was actually a huge pain in the ass. See, adding the second bar was gonna make this middle area smaller. So I made the blog width wider. But then the black boxes were covering my glorious Cheshire cat background!

And that was not going to do but I needed the blog width. But by the miracle of new age magic, see fucking with the html code, I've fixed the problem. Everything under the link bar but above the footer has been pushed over exactly 3 centimeters! So now I can fit all this information and my glorious Cheshire cat in one place. What a time to be alive.

To celebrate my awesome and my awesome accomplishments I'm introducing the 'reports', They are gonna be kept on the left side of the screen there.

Overtime I'm gonna add more and more reports about abnormalities I've encountered over the years and fears and their cults and organizations and monsters and dimensions and call kinds of shit I've come to know as true. Read at your own risk. What you learn here may very well bleed into your own lives, if bleeding theory is to be believed.

Should you valiantly press forth, welcome to my world! Enjoy your stay.

Tonight we're learning about a destroyed/warped artifact of unknown origin I like to call, the 'Bell'.

Have fun! And remember, Don't Die!

The lord Guardian Fracture, out.

I am not a writer.

There's a running gag in my life. I become what I'm not without wanting to. I didn't really mean to end up a Timberwolf, but an ambush is an ambush, and you fight back when your life is threatened you know? That whole gig was something else. Fighting monsters, seeing monsters, fighting people who look like monsters...not bad I guess, but not what I ever wanted for myself. And I didn't and don't want to be some bargaining chip, some sort of weird pawn in a cosmic chess match, but I guess that's what I am now, too. Thanks to Fracture. He thinks we're best buddies now or something. Motherfucker. I am what I am not.

And now I'm a writer.

I don't want to be a proxy. I want nothing to do with any of these...weird assholes. Not anymore. Drug-addled, pseudo-religious thugs...masked cultists...whatever the hell those bug people are, or the String Slaves...I'm tired of all of this bullshit already. But anyone reading saw what went down. Fracture's enemies decided to take their beef with him out on my face, and made me hated in every Fear cult compound that would have otherwise taken me in after that train wreck of an incident.

I spent a long time wandering in the desert by myself. Way too long.

Did I mention I'm not a writer? Yeah, I think I did, because I'm no goddamn good at this. What I'm supposed to write about, I guess, is the deal with Fracture. He's promised me in absolutely uncertain terms that, as long as I'm polite and help him do his work like a good little Proxy Bitch, he'll look for any Loops I might have passed through in an effort to fully restore my face. Good luck to him. Can't say I remember ever having encountered a Loop before this asshole waltzed into my life followed by a parade of various psychopaths.

The bastard in the white coat gave me my own room within his complex. The place is...probably a Loop, I think? Because it's so convoluted. Impressive, in a way, though by no means the most impressive building I've been in during my time as a servant. I'd roll over and try to watch television, but there's nothing on but screams and gore. Some kind of demented 'portal to Hell' channel or something, I haven't quite figured that out yet.

And I get to room with Jack, the Psycho Eight Year Old! An eight year old! With a knife! And eyes that never close, singing showtunes for no damn reason! How fun is that?

Not very. None of this is fun. Serving Slenderman is not fun. Fighting other Fear Cultists sucks. Dealing with Fears is a goddamn nightmare, sometimes literally. Life is one great big mess of evil and sickness and...I don't even know where I'm going with this. I don't trust anything anymore, not even my own head, and that's the only thing I really know for certain right now. Oh, and that Fracture is lying through his teeth about fixing my face. Yeah, duh, asshole.

But, see, what else is there left for me but to ride this out? I gave up what little I had to be a Timberwolf. I gave up being a Timberwolf when that turned out to be complete bollocks, too. None of those fucks would give me the time of day when I needed them. No one would. At least for right now I have a bed that isn't sand, food that actually tastes good, and walls to stare at when I'm listless trying to figure out what I'm going to do next.

I'm Cerebrus, by the way. That's one more thing I am certain of.

Why Do I Even Fucking Bother

Why? I can't think of one fucking reason anymore. It never works out. Its never going to work. They always fucking pull this shit for no fucking reason. And they always have the audacity to fucking apologize for is if I should be forgiving them when they pull this crap. As if they had no other choice. We'll you know what? I don't feel sorry for you Sloth. Little Jack gave you what you deserve. In fact, I'd say he game you a taste of what you deserve. At this point, I feel like I should start taking fingers every time you piss me off. Asshole.

Hmmm... Little Jack... I'd give him 7 years before that loyalty ship sinks...  Maybe 4. Not sure... why I bother.

Speaking of hopeless efforts in eventual Futility, I've been out recruiting.

I found Cerberus after Sloth was done having his Patties, two masks and Little Jack, brand his face with broken mask pieces like the incredibly fucking classy gentlemen he is. I called ahead to the local proxy cell to make sure no one was proactively hunting poor Cerberus and if they were to get them to back off.

Although I suppose calling it a local Proxy Cell doesn't do it justice. Cerberus was in Las Vegas and Vegas is home to an entire Proxy Order that spans a wide range of New Slender Region. Slender County being a broad strip of land between the cities of Philadelphia and New York. New Slender County being a broad stretch of land between Vegas and Phoenix. They are lead beautiful Cordelia, better known as the Red Witch. A very powerful crafter by all accounts. While Cordelia agrees with my stance on Ethics, and has been helping make strides in our initial push back against various fear cults, the relationship between me and her, between her order and the Free Market, are tense with little love, the bare minimum require respect, and active shows of good will with excessively wide Cheshire grins and life threading flirtation on both side. Reminds me of my days as a Bureaucrat.

For a pet name, since the Order of Oracles is practically extinct now and I would hate to associate dear Cordelia with a sinking ship, I've named their hierarchy 'the Cabal', making them Cordelia's Cabal. Because Alliteration.

So I called the old Witch up and let her know I was gonna be in town, and was going to be taking a branded off her hands, and made sure she knew not to kill him. We then exchanged pleasantries (the aforementioned cryptic flirtatious threats and power plays and interrogation). When she couldn't dig any answers as to why I wanted a timberwolf so bad so hung up and then I was free to operate.

I'm gonna be sparse on details because this post is already kind of getting up there in length. Cerberus, following his branding, seems to have hitting the bottle pretty hard. Like really hard. In the two days I spent watching him before finally approaching him all he had done was drink in bars, buy alcohol, and drink in his shitty little hotel room just off the Vegas strip. I didn't even know they had shit holes so close to the Vegas strip. I guess even poor people need a place to stay before they go out to blow all their money.

I popped in behind him when he was on his way back into his room to drink himself to sleep on the third night. I popped in between him and the door to give him little room to run and force him to face me. And he did... with a knife. He was very not happy to see me. He accused me of having him branded and ruining his life. I explained that when I exiled him we were trying to kill each other so that was fair play and that I had nothing to do with the branding. He didn't much care to listen to me... nor did he really believe me. When he finally asked what I wanted why I was here I told him I was there to unruin his face.

That got him to lower the knife he had pulled, if only a little. He seemed skeptical. I think he was anticipating a trick of some kind but fortunately for him I had no such cause for tricky or other fuckery. He had nothing to lose at this point and we were in Vegas so he decided to take my gamble and followed me through the Path to my personal loop.

Once there I put him down on a hospital bed and strapped him nice and tight. Starting feeling him painkillers and morphine. Had Jack kick the door open holding a bloody mallet and cleaver just as he was passing out to scare the shit out of him when he was at his very must vulnerable and unable to act. And under the force of the drugs, he passed out anyways. After that I left Doctor Jack to operate. Hes an artist with a scalpel, much to horror most days, but for once he got to do something constructive with it. A few hours later, Jack had removed all the mask pieces from Cerberus' face and had his face wounds nice and cleaned up. It was a good think we did this. He had not been cleaning under the mask and some of those open burns had gotten infected.

We're gonna keep him under for a few days while I give him loop therapy. By the time hes ready to woken up his face will be healed. He's still gonna look a little fucked up. I can't remove the burn marks on his face but now he'll live and won't be wearing an attention grabbing proxy beacon.

And after that, we'll see if we can't get him to join us.

The Lord Guardian Fracture out.

Suddenly Horse Shit

So I seem to have triggered a domino effect again myself. My efforts to prepare Moth to be a sacrifice seem to have pissed Nat off. Shes so mad, in fact, that the only person shes talking to is Devil and shes outright refusing to see Sloth the asshole shes supposed to be protecting or something.

Sloth, the mopey useless asshole that he is decided that he wasn't gonna work if that was the case and called me demanding I pick up the slack because this is my fault. Fine. Whatever. Fuck it. I don't need to be out and about hunting cultists down. I mean, I had a time sensative recruitment that needed to go down this week but I can always retrack that asshole down. So I come back to lend a hand and that Sloth refuses to do annnnnnything. He says hes going off to do things but I keep finding him napping in places he doesn't think I'll find him like under his bed, the dining room table, the closet, and even in the fucking cupboard. I swear to god if he put half the effort into his work as he does into hiding the Free Market would have taken over all of north america by now.

And trying to do this job is a gigantic pain in the ass now that I have Jack. He constantly bitches and whines that he has nothing to do, and that hes bored, and that this is child cruelty. I kicked him out of the loop. Now he keeps calling asking to be let back in. He is the neediest fucker. Hes worse than a car.

And while I was busy dealing with both of those useless shitheads sass, Moth up and fucking left and I have no idea where the fuck he went and that's gonna make it a serious pain in the ass to look after him if I can't fucking find him.

So I told Sloth I had had enough. The Free Market is his fucking problem now and I'll fucking leave it to crash and burn if he doesn't man the fuck up. I have other things I have to. He got down on his hands and knees and literally begged for another few days to take care of some business of his own before he resumes control.

Hes so fucking useless.

I as a head up to everyone, especially Nat, I'm at the compound so if you need something now is the time to ask.

Fracture out.

A Mid Fall Night's Breeze

So this post is personal shit. You murder and science lovers can just skip over this one if you like. Everyone else, prepare to get personal~

So, I mentioned last post that Jack made me late for a hot date that could very well be the death of me. Although I think I just used the word 'date'. If ever I mention a date in a later post, the 'could very well be the death of me' is implied. I seem to have a type.

So, I bet you're asking yourself one thing: 'Who's the Lucky girl?'

The answer would be David. And I'm gonna tell him you called him a girl. Brace for death, hehe.

Yes, I had a date with the Legendary David Banks, star of the Free Market's most popular post series: 'My Little David, Rape is Magic.' I'm proud to anounce that I have not died or been raped... but there was magic.  ^_^


So, like I said, we showed up late. David invited us in and I got to see Em. She looks okay. Shes unfortunately wheelchair bound now... kind of wish I had done more when they I found out she was taken.

I gave her a gift. The most glorious of gifts! A white lab coat. She looked spiffy as shit in it. Almost makes up for the doing nothing dealing with my own problems when she got shot in the back thing. You know... almost.

We left Jack with the Em so they could be babysat by Maggot. Mute babysitter is the best babysitter. They can't complain afterwards. Same age babysitter is also the best babysitter, because they can just watch each other.

While they were at home, David and I went out to the steak house and had a ritzy and classy fucking meal. Shit was top knotch, if can say so myself in the classiest way possible. 

After that we went a walk and talked for a while. He expressed his guilt over what happened to Em. 

 "But the person who did was because of me. I let her go and told her to run. Ignored Andre in favor of Jessica. Left her alone."

Poor thing. I could sense it was pointless to try to convince him otherwise so I swapped topics for a while. Eventually we found ourselves on a park bench were we could start out on the stars in the inky black sky as we continued to talk about where our lives are now. I told him I've taken up hunting the cultists for other fears. Asked for pointers.

"Know what you're up against."

"That's one strength I do have," I retorted with a laugh.

After that things got awkward and silent. He stared back and forth between the stars as if he was reading out answers to his own question in the sky.

"Fracture... what would happen if I tried to kiss you now?"

"Besides my hair potentially changing colors? I think I'd blush."

"You wouldn't object?"

"You're asking and everything. Very gentlemanly. How could I refuse it at this point?"

And we shared a gentle little kiss~

Not quiet what I was expecting from him but a pleasant surprise all the same. I decided to follow it up with a bit of Shakespeare.

"I do believe you kiss by the book."

"Odd. I'm not so great at reading."

"That could very telling of why then" I teased.

After that we went back to his place and, how can be gentlemanly with this?

I... made him a delivery~

But we stopped after that. We decided it would be best to take things a little slower than we were going. I'm far to classy to go all the way on a first date anyways. All in all, it was a lovely evening and I'm looking forward to another one.

On the flip side, Jack destroyed David's living room and trashed the kitchen... so we'll see if I'm getting another one after that... little fucking shit.

Fracture out.

If You Are Binging This Blog, Start here.

I'm serious. Everything before this is absolutely gibberish. If you must read it, know that most of it's entries really only make sense when in the context of events that were happening on the Wrath is Eternal blog and is best read along side Duckie's Entries for Wrath is Eternal.

With that said, I'm starting this blog back up for my own personal use again now that owner ship of Wrath is Eternal has passed from me to Sloth.

And now for some partially cryptic shit from my new side kick, Jack, Maggot and Sloth's replacement.

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The sound of loud footsteps could be heard throughout the small warehouse, echoing against the bare concrete floor and metal walls. They were gathered around a barrel fire, three of them, trying to keep warm as they stood watch over a light arsenal of pistols, knives, and bullets. The more Faithful one amongst them had a rifle out. He was pacing the ground from entrance to entrance diligently. Something his fellow timberwolves were ragging on him for.

"Calm the fuck down. Aint nothing gonna happen," said the first guard.

"Yeah. We've had this gig for half a year now. You'll freeze your ass off if you keep like that. Come stand with us. We'll get a card game going or something," said the second guard.

"I was sent here to intercept trouble. Trouble is coming. I will intercept it. Have you no Faith in my orders?" said the wandering third guard.

"God damn it, its like talking to a wall. News flash buddy, we're all here to 'intercept trouble'. Its what fucking guard duty is. You wanna catch a cold and die, thats your problem. We're playing cards," said a forth guard pulling a table over and pulling out a deck box from his bag.

Custom cards, Ritzy. 

They played through a round before the footsteps stopped.

"Yo, Raphi-uh... what the fuck was his name? Hey asshole, everything alright over there?"

And then the music started. It blared deafeningly loud through the warehouse in all directions.

"And when the coyotes, they sing in the park"

"What the fu-"

"It's when the city lights start fallin' for the sea"

And then the lights went out. Footsteps rang out along the side of the building.

"Shit!" and all three of the remaining guards stood up and fired at that wall.

"Did we get it?" asked one of them before a knife flew out of the darkness on his left and cut his throat open. He fired twice into the air, gasping for breath before slumping over into one of friends.

"While them roads are windin' down, and the flying men'll hit the ground"

The free one pulled a flashlight and held his gun out, firing at nothing at first in the direction that the knife came from before making a sweep with his flashlight confirming that there was nothing there. 

"Son of bitch. Jonny, is Eric gonna make it?" he asked in a frustrated tone, keeping an eye out so he wouldn't be snuck up on. To his horror, Jonny didn't answer. "Jonny?" he called again with a more concerned tone.

"Every motion is close to the touch"

He turned around to check on his buddies to find Jonny collapsed and braced into the fire barrel, his face sizzling against heated metal and his throat and stomach ripped open.

"By the Angel..." he whispered to himself in terror, "Fuck this. I'm getting out of here."

The song verse finished as he ran for the door in a blind rush.

"The coyotes sing when they taste on your lovin'"

He made it just out the door when a small figure jumped on his back and ripped his back open with his knfe, throwing it's weight forward to make sure the last surviving timberwolf fell forward.

He screamed in pain and started begging as the small figured grabbed the man by the back of his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck.

"No, no, no, NO, NO!" he pleaded as Jack slit his throat and stood up, pressing a button on a device tied to his wrist to make the music start one last time.

"Hello, we're comin' back for more

You know why we're comin' for you

You know we should be, we should be together

'Cause once we rock, we won't wanna stop

Not today or tomorrow

And not today or tomorrow, oh no

You better lock your doors

You know why, 'cause we want you

'Cause we like you a lot"

"Cute," I said stepping into view.

"Yeah? How did I do?" asked Jack with a bright grin, clearly proud of his little killing spree.

"Well it was a creative, well though out, well planned out, and then well executed... execution. It had lots of style and flare. None of them escaped or survived and you certainly got the job done."

"Fuck yes, I knew I rocked this!" he cheered hopping in triumph, a knife in one hand, his mask in the other.

"So I think I'll give this a D."

"What the fuck? I thought you said I did good."

"You did... but it took you three hours to set up this elaborate little thing you did and now I'm running late for a date. Grab your shit and get in the car. We're going."

"Fuck you Fuck Face, that was a solid C and you know it."

"Move!"

And then we left to salvage what was left of my dinner plans.

This is about what you can expect from me and my blog. Murder, some sciency stuff from time to time when I can be bothered to make anything I know public, and personal shit.

Hope you're into that.

Fracture out.