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.
Showing posts with label Programming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Programming. Show all posts
Friday, December 26, 2014
Monday, September 10, 2012
Visit from a Primordial
Sorry dear nobody for not posting
on here for a couple of days. I address this to nobody since no one I don’t actually
talk to on a daily basis reads this blog with the exception of the Executor and
Irony and I haven’t heard from them for a while and I don’t honestly care a
whole lot about them so they might as well be nobody at this point.
So I was visited by a primordial. Awkward right? How’s this to make it even more awkward, it was a primordial primordial. Confused? Look it up. Semantics are fun.
So anyways, it happened about a half a week ago. I think it was in response to, or at the very least caused by, Morningstar and Nightscream’s little rebellion. While I wouldn’t mind watching the Bureaucracy burn from a safe distance, I didn’t really expect to get called into action to help burn it down. I was actually kind of hoping it wouldn’t come to that more than anything, I don’t like getting my hands dirty but alas it seems unavoidable.
I knew I wasn’t alone when my Lab randomly lit on fire. Usually I have to make some conscious effort for that to happen. Then a voice spoke to me. The voice was violent and feminine. From its tone I think it was both angry and excited. I don’t really remember what it said to be honest. I was kind of freaking out which I like to pretend I don’t do but I am only human.
Ignoring it for the most part I asked it, “Do you mind if I go get my pet Fire Cultist for this?”
There was a pause followed by a confident, “Yes.”
So I popped out of the room and then popped back in dragging my half naked Fire Cultist in with me. Imaginary readers would remember her as ‘the Fire’ in her comments on my blog.
“Declare yourself my disciple!” it boomed.
“I am Jen,” she responded in a cold unfeeling and seemingly unnaturally soulless tone. “What is it you wish of my lord Pyriel?”
“You know of me?” it asked sounding a little surprised but keeping it’s righteous regal tone.
“Yes my lord. I have heard talk of a time when you spoke to us your worshippers. It is a great honor to be amongst the few to stand in your presence without getting consumed.”
“And why does one that knows of me and pays such grand reverence to me and is said to worship me speak with no strength or passion?” it asked becoming angry as it spoke the words.
“I am thus in your name. As the brightest flame goes fastest, so to do many who worship you faithfully. To ensure my continued existence so that I may rekindle the faith at an appropriate time and place I have forsaken all feeling and passion. Through knowledge alone I wait as embers to once again ignite your glory.”
“You give up your place with me in my name?”
“I do. Creation requires sacrifice.”
“I note your devotion.”
That went on for hours. I think I tuned it out after a while. I didn’t snap back to attention until I heard my name mentioned.
“Fracture, oh proven one, I demand your aid.”
“Sure. Word of warning, this will be run through Father,” I informed it.
There was a pause here. I imagined it being offended by my comment but a disembodied voice bellowing from fire has a hell of a poker face.
“As you please child,” it finally responded. It already sounded angry so I have no idea if it was angrier. “I request your service to aid in Ramael’s war against those who stand as an affront to Father.”
“You want me to help you strike down the Bureaucracy then?”
“Say it however you like child.”
“Very well, can I ask why?”
“No you may not.”
“How about I ask why you don’t appear to have a shell?”
Fire flared up around me. Though it did not burn me the intent was clear.
“I’ll have none of your insolence child!”
“It surely appears that you won’t.”
“And I will have an answer!”
“Yes. I’ll help you if Father approves.”
“Wise choice, child.”
“That has yet to be seen, Adult.”
“So it hasn’t,” it responded sounding a little amused.
And then the fires dissipated. I went to bed, had a talk with the Master in the morning, and then reprogrammed Subject 926’s list in the afternoon to send him after a squad of proxies who I believed had information pertinent to finding a highest.
Seems just like Nightscream and Morningstar, I’m going to have to kill my way up the line.
Fracture out.
So I was visited by a primordial. Awkward right? How’s this to make it even more awkward, it was a primordial primordial. Confused? Look it up. Semantics are fun.
So anyways, it happened about a half a week ago. I think it was in response to, or at the very least caused by, Morningstar and Nightscream’s little rebellion. While I wouldn’t mind watching the Bureaucracy burn from a safe distance, I didn’t really expect to get called into action to help burn it down. I was actually kind of hoping it wouldn’t come to that more than anything, I don’t like getting my hands dirty but alas it seems unavoidable.
I knew I wasn’t alone when my Lab randomly lit on fire. Usually I have to make some conscious effort for that to happen. Then a voice spoke to me. The voice was violent and feminine. From its tone I think it was both angry and excited. I don’t really remember what it said to be honest. I was kind of freaking out which I like to pretend I don’t do but I am only human.
Ignoring it for the most part I asked it, “Do you mind if I go get my pet Fire Cultist for this?”
There was a pause followed by a confident, “Yes.”
So I popped out of the room and then popped back in dragging my half naked Fire Cultist in with me. Imaginary readers would remember her as ‘the Fire’ in her comments on my blog.
“Declare yourself my disciple!” it boomed.
“I am Jen,” she responded in a cold unfeeling and seemingly unnaturally soulless tone. “What is it you wish of my lord Pyriel?”
“You know of me?” it asked sounding a little surprised but keeping it’s righteous regal tone.
“Yes my lord. I have heard talk of a time when you spoke to us your worshippers. It is a great honor to be amongst the few to stand in your presence without getting consumed.”
“And why does one that knows of me and pays such grand reverence to me and is said to worship me speak with no strength or passion?” it asked becoming angry as it spoke the words.
“I am thus in your name. As the brightest flame goes fastest, so to do many who worship you faithfully. To ensure my continued existence so that I may rekindle the faith at an appropriate time and place I have forsaken all feeling and passion. Through knowledge alone I wait as embers to once again ignite your glory.”
“You give up your place with me in my name?”
“I do. Creation requires sacrifice.”
“I note your devotion.”
That went on for hours. I think I tuned it out after a while. I didn’t snap back to attention until I heard my name mentioned.
“Fracture, oh proven one, I demand your aid.”
“Sure. Word of warning, this will be run through Father,” I informed it.
There was a pause here. I imagined it being offended by my comment but a disembodied voice bellowing from fire has a hell of a poker face.
“As you please child,” it finally responded. It already sounded angry so I have no idea if it was angrier. “I request your service to aid in Ramael’s war against those who stand as an affront to Father.”
“You want me to help you strike down the Bureaucracy then?”
“Say it however you like child.”
“Very well, can I ask why?”
“No you may not.”
“How about I ask why you don’t appear to have a shell?”
Fire flared up around me. Though it did not burn me the intent was clear.
“I’ll have none of your insolence child!”
“It surely appears that you won’t.”
“And I will have an answer!”
“Yes. I’ll help you if Father approves.”
“Wise choice, child.”
“That has yet to be seen, Adult.”
“So it hasn’t,” it responded sounding a little amused.
And then the fires dissipated. I went to bed, had a talk with the Master in the morning, and then reprogrammed Subject 926’s list in the afternoon to send him after a squad of proxies who I believed had information pertinent to finding a highest.
Seems just like Nightscream and Morningstar, I’m going to have to kill my way up the line.
Fracture out.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
My Fracture Lies Over the Ocean
This is designation
‘Fracture’ checking in.
The three of you might be curious where I’ve been following my long and quite unprecedented absence from both posting on this blog and from the company of Mask squad’s operations as chronicled on Subject 926’s blog, ‘Wrath is Eternal’. To that I say… fuck you! I’m a grown adult and I can do whatever the hell I want without having to explain jack shit to anyone. You’re not my fucking mom!
That said, let me tell you where I’ve been.
After I disappeared following a short hunt in Florida, I popped back to the compound and checked out our experimental anti-sleep agent from here on referred to EAS#38. I took EAS#38 and popped back to a safe radius near New York and snuck back to the hotel. While Duckie was fast asleep in his room I started sending vaporized doses of EAS#38 to him through the vents until he eventually freaked out and tried to run. Kind of funny how easy it was to scare him off actually.
I chased Duckie down like the dog he is and hit him with increasing doses till he couldn’t sleep at all. Once I confirmed he was suffering from hallucinations brought on by the sleep deprivation, it was just a matter of waiting till Duckie left his hiding spot. Once he did, we snuck in and set up our show and then herded him back to the room to put the game into effect.
I for one think the Project was a success. It’s hard to say what the shit head was actually seeing but my guess is he was seeing ghosts of past victims and not the hollowed I was setting at him with pictures of past victims stapled over their faces. And how he screamed when I came in with a wig and lifted him into the closet by his throat.
Priceless.
So if only for his suffering, I’m calling this a win.
I think I'll give him a day to rest before I tip off his boy toy as to where he is.
Fracture out.
The three of you might be curious where I’ve been following my long and quite unprecedented absence from both posting on this blog and from the company of Mask squad’s operations as chronicled on Subject 926’s blog, ‘Wrath is Eternal’. To that I say… fuck you! I’m a grown adult and I can do whatever the hell I want without having to explain jack shit to anyone. You’re not my fucking mom!
That said, let me tell you where I’ve been.
After I disappeared following a short hunt in Florida, I popped back to the compound and checked out our experimental anti-sleep agent from here on referred to EAS#38. I took EAS#38 and popped back to a safe radius near New York and snuck back to the hotel. While Duckie was fast asleep in his room I started sending vaporized doses of EAS#38 to him through the vents until he eventually freaked out and tried to run. Kind of funny how easy it was to scare him off actually.
I chased Duckie down like the dog he is and hit him with increasing doses till he couldn’t sleep at all. Once I confirmed he was suffering from hallucinations brought on by the sleep deprivation, it was just a matter of waiting till Duckie left his hiding spot. Once he did, we snuck in and set up our show and then herded him back to the room to put the game into effect.
I for one think the Project was a success. It’s hard to say what the shit head was actually seeing but my guess is he was seeing ghosts of past victims and not the hollowed I was setting at him with pictures of past victims stapled over their faces. And how he screamed when I came in with a wig and lifted him into the closet by his throat.
Priceless.
So if only for his suffering, I’m calling this a win.
I think I'll give him a day to rest before I tip off his boy toy as to where he is.
Fracture out.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
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.
…
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.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
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.
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.
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