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.