Lord Fracture sir, this is code named 'the Fire' reporting in a mission update for operation 'The Invisible Hand'.
Collaboration with 'Devil' and the hollows has finally yielded Fruit. All the necessary utilities are ready and have been prepped for use. Shipping can began as soon as orders start and roster templates have been automated to fill as necessary. I for one am very eager to see the reception of the project once it goes public.
On a sour note, operation 'Dead Painter' has reportedly failed. Our squads failed to bring down the Traitors Picasso/Firecracker and Moth/Trent and have since lost track of them. Clues are being collected on their where abouts but progress is increasingly slow going at the moment. With the completion of 'The Invisible Hand', 'Devil' will be reassigned to tracking their whereabouts.
His Eternal Flame Guide Us,
the Fire
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
Victory
Victory
Glorious, glorious victory. Let
us not forget the brave sacrifices of those we lost along the way like Firecracker
and Duckie who are both 100 percent dead. No doubts about that. We should
probably remember Trent/Moth too, the traitor who cut down Firecracker to spite
Duckie. Tragic, tragic stuff. But now the moment is up and we can forget about
them, because fuck them, they aren’t here anymore. Just me and my victory. Life
is sweet.
And then this happened:
“Congratulations child. Seems I won’t be killing you.”
“Hello disembodied voice… and my rooms on fire again. JEN!”
“Leave her. She is not necessary for this.”
“If you say so.”
“I have another request.”
“Of course you do. A simple hi and thank you would never do nowadays.”
“Watch your tone you pitiful little wretch. I need you to find me a suitable sh-… what is HE doing here?”
“Captain big, black, and quiet? No idea. He just sort of showed up and then stopped moving. Figured he was one of ours. Handed Jen this when I sent her over to investigate,” I explained showing the fire the picture I was holding.
“Using what’s left of my disciples as guinea pigs to explore dangerous unknowns.”
“She’s use to it at this point.”
“…,” and then for a moment I was engulfed in cold unburning flame. “One of these days cretin.”
“Not likely. In any event, he gave us this picture of a little boy so we went and grabbed him,” I said stepping out of the room and bringing out the child. “Like them blonde?”
“Never you mind!” the fire flared. “And thank you or something. Your continued efforts and devotion are… appreciated.”
“I bet,” I responded and after a moment the child was engulfed in flames. All the fire dissipated and when the child arose he was wearing piercing teal eyes.
“Back at last…” said the child hugging himself and taking a moment to jump for joy.
“So if we’re going to keep doing this, what should I be calling you.”
“Valtiel.”
“Original.”
“You and your constant indignities. You are certainly not worthy enough to call me by my name…”
“I’d just fuck it up to piss you off anyways pyroiel,” I said and as I finished that sentence the child threw out his hand in my direction and I was engulfed in flame for a moment once more. “You like doing that.”
“I have missed it. I long for the unfaithful so I may feast… this child’s passion will do to sustain me for now.”
“We were talking about names.”
“Right. If Samael is to have a champion then so am I. Refer to me and my new host as ‘Torchlight’.”
“Like… the game?”
“What? Like a lit touch you ridiculous creature.”
“… Yeah, sure. We’ll go with that, Torchlight.”
“Keep your ear to the ground, we may yet have more need you child,” said the child moving over to the big black gentleman who was standing perfectly still. “Come my loyal brother. We’ve so much to do.”
“Before you two go, I have one last present. It’s my prized possession. I do believe it will serve you well. Do try to take good care of it for me.”
“Very well,” said Torchlight looking it over. “A fine gift. Finally trying to show some respect?”
“I get the sense it would be endangered if I tried to make any use of it. You might as well have it.”
“Pity,” said the child engulfing the gift in flames for a moment and then smiling. “But a gift is a gift.”
And with that Torchlight took the gift over to his ‘Brother’ and in an instant it was just me in the room again. I do believe that is the all clear Whisper. Return to the compound.
Fracture out.
And then this happened:
“Congratulations child. Seems I won’t be killing you.”
“Hello disembodied voice… and my rooms on fire again. JEN!”
“Leave her. She is not necessary for this.”
“If you say so.”
“I have another request.”
“Of course you do. A simple hi and thank you would never do nowadays.”
“Watch your tone you pitiful little wretch. I need you to find me a suitable sh-… what is HE doing here?”
“Captain big, black, and quiet? No idea. He just sort of showed up and then stopped moving. Figured he was one of ours. Handed Jen this when I sent her over to investigate,” I explained showing the fire the picture I was holding.
“Using what’s left of my disciples as guinea pigs to explore dangerous unknowns.”
“She’s use to it at this point.”
“…,” and then for a moment I was engulfed in cold unburning flame. “One of these days cretin.”
“Not likely. In any event, he gave us this picture of a little boy so we went and grabbed him,” I said stepping out of the room and bringing out the child. “Like them blonde?”
“Never you mind!” the fire flared. “And thank you or something. Your continued efforts and devotion are… appreciated.”
“I bet,” I responded and after a moment the child was engulfed in flames. All the fire dissipated and when the child arose he was wearing piercing teal eyes.
“Back at last…” said the child hugging himself and taking a moment to jump for joy.
“So if we’re going to keep doing this, what should I be calling you.”
“Valtiel.”
“Original.”
“You and your constant indignities. You are certainly not worthy enough to call me by my name…”
“I’d just fuck it up to piss you off anyways pyroiel,” I said and as I finished that sentence the child threw out his hand in my direction and I was engulfed in flame for a moment once more. “You like doing that.”
“I have missed it. I long for the unfaithful so I may feast… this child’s passion will do to sustain me for now.”
“We were talking about names.”
“Right. If Samael is to have a champion then so am I. Refer to me and my new host as ‘Torchlight’.”
“Like… the game?”
“What? Like a lit touch you ridiculous creature.”
“… Yeah, sure. We’ll go with that, Torchlight.”
“Keep your ear to the ground, we may yet have more need you child,” said the child moving over to the big black gentleman who was standing perfectly still. “Come my loyal brother. We’ve so much to do.”
“Before you two go, I have one last present. It’s my prized possession. I do believe it will serve you well. Do try to take good care of it for me.”
“Very well,” said Torchlight looking it over. “A fine gift. Finally trying to show some respect?”
“I get the sense it would be endangered if I tried to make any use of it. You might as well have it.”
“Pity,” said the child engulfing the gift in flames for a moment and then smiling. “But a gift is a gift.”
And with that Torchlight took the gift over to his ‘Brother’ and in an instant it was just me in the room again. I do believe that is the all clear Whisper. Return to the compound.
Fracture out.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
This isn’t right.
It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
I’m not talking about the yet to be bitched about betrayal of Trent and loss of Firecracker, that was planned and happened on schedule. I’m talking about Subject 926, ‘Duckie’.
I’ve been in talks with Father since we got back from the mission. Been having arguments with might be a better way of putting it. He’s not budging this time… this time he wants blood.
I wanted to keep him. I thought I could save him.
But I guess that was never really my call… the time comes when all of us have to give up childish things I suppose.
Sucks to be Duckie.
Fracture out.
I’m not talking about the yet to be bitched about betrayal of Trent and loss of Firecracker, that was planned and happened on schedule. I’m talking about Subject 926, ‘Duckie’.
I’ve been in talks with Father since we got back from the mission. Been having arguments with might be a better way of putting it. He’s not budging this time… this time he wants blood.
I wanted to keep him. I thought I could save him.
But I guess that was never really my call… the time comes when all of us have to give up childish things I suppose.
Sucks to be Duckie.
Fracture out.
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.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Fruitful
Fruitful is all I can
really describe this last week as to be perfectly honest. It’s like when you
manage to line all the parts up just right in Tetris
and a full four lines of blocks disappear leaving nothing to show they were
ever there but your own sense of satisfaction and a shit load of points
leaving you curious if you’re finally going to hit the high score and surpass
all others who came before.
Since Ralph left a wopping high score of… let’s say 3, he did maybe three things right in his entire life, that means I’ve reached the top with the four points I made off my Tetris alone. Yay me.
First point:
My brainwashing sessions with Firecracker and whisper produced absolutely amazing results; we can send her back to Duckie as soon as possible without her freaking out anymore thus ensuring the continued existence of two valuable murderous assets.
Second point:
Not long after we finished manually reprogramming Firecracker Whisper had to take off and go into hiding. Apparently while he was out his entire office staff was wiped out and he is worried he’s going to be the next victim on Morningstar/Nightscream’s crusade.
While I am myself worried over the crusade and what it may bring, I know I have nothing to fear of it. Traitorous though I am, I have never crossed, disobeyed, or done anything to upset Father in anyway. So fuck the angels, I know I’m safe.
With whisper gone I now control all of Prometheus’ resources. Better hide those for now though, I’d hate to be mistaken for a tool (Highest).
Third Point:
In the chaos created by the war I started in Ember's organization, I managed to pluck a few of the smaller cells who were looking rather desperate for an out in the conflict. It was, after all, a war they never wanted over a matter they probably never considered until Mr. Fay brought it up. I granted them a full pardon and they're now enjoying room and board at the compound. They’ll prove interesting assets.
Point Four:
It would seem dear Duckie has finally began to see the light and is beginning to realize what a poor proxy he’s been. Always questioning and picking at the Masters will. Poor manners, that’s what that is.
This point has an unfortunate negative point attached. Duckie seems to be… reverting. That’s the best word I can put to it.
He’s pulling a Trent and refuses to talk. I can understand where both of them got that annoying little habit from but it is extremely difficult to try to coordinate and communicate with a fucking mute. Honestly, I actually kind of liked the Mask cult with the exception of that one annoying fucking principle. I mean how do expect to draw in more members when the first step of initiation for your cult is you can’t fucking talk. Fucking morons.
I’m going to see if I can’t find a way to fix this.
Fracture Out.
Since Ralph left a wopping high score of… let’s say 3, he did maybe three things right in his entire life, that means I’ve reached the top with the four points I made off my Tetris alone. Yay me.
First point:
My brainwashing sessions with Firecracker and whisper produced absolutely amazing results; we can send her back to Duckie as soon as possible without her freaking out anymore thus ensuring the continued existence of two valuable murderous assets.
Second point:
Not long after we finished manually reprogramming Firecracker Whisper had to take off and go into hiding. Apparently while he was out his entire office staff was wiped out and he is worried he’s going to be the next victim on Morningstar/Nightscream’s crusade.
While I am myself worried over the crusade and what it may bring, I know I have nothing to fear of it. Traitorous though I am, I have never crossed, disobeyed, or done anything to upset Father in anyway. So fuck the angels, I know I’m safe.
With whisper gone I now control all of Prometheus’ resources. Better hide those for now though, I’d hate to be mistaken for a tool (Highest).
Third Point:
In the chaos created by the war I started in Ember's organization, I managed to pluck a few of the smaller cells who were looking rather desperate for an out in the conflict. It was, after all, a war they never wanted over a matter they probably never considered until Mr. Fay brought it up. I granted them a full pardon and they're now enjoying room and board at the compound. They’ll prove interesting assets.
Point Four:
It would seem dear Duckie has finally began to see the light and is beginning to realize what a poor proxy he’s been. Always questioning and picking at the Masters will. Poor manners, that’s what that is.
This point has an unfortunate negative point attached. Duckie seems to be… reverting. That’s the best word I can put to it.
He’s pulling a Trent and refuses to talk. I can understand where both of them got that annoying little habit from but it is extremely difficult to try to coordinate and communicate with a fucking mute. Honestly, I actually kind of liked the Mask cult with the exception of that one annoying fucking principle. I mean how do expect to draw in more members when the first step of initiation for your cult is you can’t fucking talk. Fucking morons.
I’m going to see if I can’t find a way to fix this.
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.
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