Sympathy

Wahahahahaha.

…

Wahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahaha hahahahahaha… ha… ha… ha.

Okay. I think I’m done… hahaha. Sorry. I can’t help but laugh every time I see Duckie crying. It’s like watching a moose fly or listening to a stupid hard headed squirrel talk. It’s particularly funny because of how unmanly he considers the act to be. All that shame must be weighing a heavy burden on his soul. Makes me proud to climb on his back and laugh in his face.

But you know, metaphorically. That’s probably a good way to go about getting myself beaten to death with a shovel.  …He he, cry baby.

Of course this is something of a double edged sword. Decreased time spent blacked out and the emotional attachment to the moments he is blotting out in his mind are actually signs that his condition is improving. As stated in one my earlier reports on Duckie’s blog “Wrath is Eternal”, I believe Duckie’s blackouts are a result of a dissociative disorder in which he cannot remember the killing because he can no longer stomach them. The fact that the killing moment is all he can’t seem to remember now and that he cries after every kill now would seem to support this hypothesis. The most likely trigger for the psychosis would be Duckie’s own ‘death’ as it seemed to have started after he was cut down and apparently reemerged.

Duckie is showing signs of sympathy.
Measures will be taken to fix that.
Fracture out.

Crossroads

Well I do believe that session provided the sweet revenge I was looking for. It almost gave me some bruises to match but Subject 926 finally chilled out. Not that I didn’t have to coach him down before his silly ass could find some peace.

I’ve not seen him quite so riled up since the incident with Picasso. I guess we’re calling her Firecracker now, hilarious considering she is terrified of explosions. I suppose I can always call her by her name, but she gets kind of pissy about that.

Although, she might be too distracted with Duckie throwing actual firecrackers at her to notice anything I say on here.

On a more concerning note, some snoop has been blogging and commenting around looking to get the drop on Father. Hard to blame her, I kind of did the same thing. What actually concerns me is Duckie has noticed and taken an interest. His obsession with the master is destructive. We could lose him if the moron was ever unfortunate enough to get his way.

I’m going to buy him some more firecrackers and we’ll see if throwing firecrackers at Firecracker is distracting enough to steal away his attention.

Fracture out.

Over-estimations

Well, this may have very well been my most grievous miss calculation in quite some time. I feel stupider than when I spent an hour making up a sob story to tell ‘Joseph’ and two hours making shitty little props to go along with it.

I’m going to be blunt, I’ve drugged Duckie.

I cracked a canister of a drug I’d rather not name at the moment and let it fill the room. That one canister could probably do him through the week so I can’t trust the situation to resolve itself any longer; I’m going to have to go remove it myself. Can’t have him vulnerable and advertising himself for that long. I probably shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as I have given the dangerous hit squads that have been out.

I don’t know why I thought Duckie could figure this out. The point was for him to find the canister and get his guard up. He’s been too happy since I told him he’s getting a squad, far too hopeful. I need him guarded and ready for anything.

Oh well. I guess everyone has their limits.
I guess its best I found his now.
Fracture out!

A Better Place

This job is a hard one. I sometimes have long sleepless nights where I sit there in bed and remember all of the people who I’ve stomped on to bring Father’s game forward. Most of the time, I can push these bothersome thoughts aside. But sometimes it’s far too much to bare. A fractured mind is capable of so much but everything has its limits. It almost sickens me that this was the best I could have had in life. I wonder if my younger self would approve of this life? I hope so. Someone really should.

All those people I’ve killed, the poor saps I’ve driven insane, the lost souls I’ve manipulated into weapons for my Master. I remember this poor man… I skinned his grandson in front of him and pressed him into service on the threat that I would do the same to his granddaughter. Unfortunately she had to be present for that process. She’s still very much catatonic. She says his name sometimes…

“Jack… Jack…”
It’s heart breaking.

But then I think, ‘What if I hadn’t been there?’ What if someone else had been given the same task? I mean, it’s stupid to assume these tasks would have never happened without my existing. How much worse would these people be if some asshole had failed trying to do what I do?

I see my victim’s deaths being carried out improperly making them pointless when the point fails to get across. I see people being driven to madness through wholly ineffective means leaving them to face more hardship down the road when they finally come out of it. I see lost souls being tortured but never finding a new home or learning of the small comfort working for Him brings.

I see little Jack being slaughtered only for the man to refuse service and leave with his little catatonic brat at the first opportunity he got.

Countless atrocities committed for little, if any, gain making every act pointless.
I know from my heart that I make this world a better place…
Just not for everyone.
Fracture out.   :D

I'll Take You to the Coffee Shop~

But first some notes on the experiment at hand. I have to say I am quite impressed with Subject 926’s ability to make sure his marks go down and never get up. I say a lot of nasty things about the kid but that dick is a natural killing machine. Even I grimaced at what he did to that woman with the net and I’ve done some right terrible things. I suppose we have Ralph to thank for Duckie’s incredible efficiency, at least in part anyways.

But that dead, dopy, douche bag is also the cause of what is troubling Duckie now. Apparently 926 was never taught the merits of self control which, thinking about it now, really explains a lot of his problems. Control is mandatory in most higher functioning tasks. He’ll be a much more valuable asset and far less of a liability if he can just work past this.

I issued another command and tried to talk him through it but at the end of the day it’s all on him.

Title topic time! While Duckie was off on one of his three hour naps, I slipped off to the Café to pay ‘Joseph’ a visit. It was far more pleasant than I thought it would be but that had a lot more to do with his squad not being around than the man himself. I congratulated him and then we talked. Tricks were shown off, tables were carved, muscles were flexed, cake and coffee was consumed, threats were thrown around, lies were told, assets were shared, and favors were owed. I was all quite standard really.

I certainly wouldn’t say I gained an ally after the sorted affair, but I do believe I gained a contact.
At the end of the day, I tend to find a contact far more useful anyways.

Now if you would excuse me, a car seems to have just broken through our motel door.
Fracture out!

It's in God's Hands Now

So it’s probably safe to say we’re screwed.

In all seriousness, this is the hands off part of the scenario. It is a moment of truth. The outcome of this event will tell us if subject 926 is salvageable as an operative or if he is to remain a rabid animal that we dump on people we don’t like. I know it shouldn’t be a problem anymore but I am quite worried the programming won’t hold. I suppose it doesn’t really matter though. Picasso is expendable and we can just keep trying. If he fails long enough I’ll sure he’ll end up destroying himself and that’ll really be his own fault.

Either he is remolded or is destroyed destroying problems. Win freaking win.

Amy is so sure we’re going to break him. He’s already broken. That’s the problem. This is actually something more like reforging. And our forced onlooker, the executor, seems concerned with how free we leave subject 926. All that anger and confidence is what makes dear Duckie the dangerous vindictive thing he is and I would not see it dampened with a cage or a clipping or a fixing. The smart man has nothing to fear of fire. But his enemies always will.

Not a threat or anything,
Just a fact.