Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Kay Is Safe

"Fuck, this hurts. I won't lie.
Doesn't matter how hard I try.
Half the words don't mean a thing
And I know that I won't be satisfied,
So why try ignoring Him?
Make it a dirt dance floor again.
Say your prayers and stomp it out
When they bring that chorus in!"

-points up- This is my "get your ass in gear" song.

Normally I use it when I've procrastinated waaaaay too much on some essay or another, or in studying for a test. I'm panicking about what I haven't done, I listen to the song, I get calm again, and I get the work done. No idea why it does that for me, but it works.

Today, I'm doing something new and using the song for its intended purpose: as an outlet for my anger.

Mother of god...


We FINALLY found the damn place at around 1pm this afternoon. It was way further south than expected, but at that point we were more worried about the signs of proxy activity we kept noticing as we got closer. Two masked guys walking down the streets in town like they own the place, and I swear I kept seeing the exact same hoodie'd dude in the residentail area, no matter what road we turned down.

As might be expected, the house itself was run-down and falling in in some places. Not to mention it was located out in the woods in The Middle Of Fucking Nowhere (Southeastern District). Normally I love woodsey areas, but when TPF is involved, you kinda want to avoid places that radiate creepy as much as this one did.

Not that we didn't have a plan, of course. I did mention Sage's brilliant, insane, hilarious-on-some-level-but-not-in-a-way-you-should-spend-much-time-thinking-about plan, didn't I? No?

He found Slender, alright. That was my contribution. He did it by looking for a void in his senses, rather than searching for It outright. The fact that it actually freaking worked means a lot. Seriously, there is so much theoretical information you could extrapolate from that little venture. Maybe I'll write about it later. But not now.

So yeah. We found It. It was waiting in the basement of the house, which was presumably where Kay was being kept. It was waiting for us, of course. It knew we were coming. That was part of the plan, the whole reason I was updating so frequently and so publically, even though it's my policy not to do so. We needed It to be where Kay was so we could be sure of getting It out of the way.

So, without even entering the front lawn of said house, Sage sets up to pull Hilarious Stunt #1. With a chalk circle, a stick from the Pine Barrens, and some mumbo jumbo I probably don't want to understand... he frikking summons the Jersey Devil. Right in front of us.

Granted, I only saw it for a second before it vanished again. That was Hilarious Stunt #2: sic the Jersey Devil on Slenderman.

Yeah, got your attention now, didn't I?

Strictly speaking, though, he didn't sic it on It. He just sort of got it pissed off, pointed it in Slender's direction, and let loose, leaving them to duke it out for a while in another dimension. Which left us to break in with a dramatic rescue relatively hindrance-free.

Finally, there was the matter of the actual break-in. Neither of us were stupid enough to expect anything less than full-blown Alien Geometries, even with Slenderp kept busy for a while. However, enter Hilarious Stunt #3. Sage simply walked around the perimeter of the building for a moment, evidently looking for something. He decided that what he was looking for was a 1st story window on the left side of the house, towards the front. He shielded his face with his jacket, broke the glass on said window, climbed in, and gestured for me to follow. So I did.

And suddenly we were standing in what was obviously a basement, with a bloodstained cot over in one corner with some medical equipment and god knows what else. We had reached our destination, just like that.

I have no fucking clue how Sage did that. I mean, he explained to me beforehand that he knew how to make the labyrinth work in his favor, but I didn't really believe him until right then. As of now, I am going to make him teach me that trick. I am so serious.

So we were there. And the local proxy - this hulking six-foot-something guy - was standing on the other side of the room, his back turned, looking expectantly at the only door in the room. He was holding Kay up off the floor with one arm and holding a knife to her throat with the other.

Clearly he was expecting us. Clearly he had some dramatic you-are-too-late-mwahahaha speech planned out in his head, complete with the exact intonation of gloating and evil laughter.

Clearly, he thought we were stupid.

Thanks to Sage, we had just bypassed the maze entirely, and were now in perfect position to get the jump on the bastard.

We made our move. We weren't quiet enough. The proxy heard movement where there shouldn't have been and turned around, finally seeing us there and having no clue how the hell we got there but ready to murder us anyway. Sage pulled out his bokken and the proxy moved the knife from Kay's throat to a combat position...

...and suddenly the proxy was clutching a growing red stain on the side of his shirt and staggering away, and Kay was on the ground, sobbing and clutching a bloodied pair of scissors.

We didn't hesitate. Sage went to the proxy and started hitting him, hard, and I ran straight for Kay. Jesus-fucking-Christ, she was in bad shape, but it didn't take long to figure out that not much of it was permanent. Who was it who said that it's "a fine and delicate art, to inflict the greatest amount of pain on the human body while causing the minimal amount of physical damage"? Well, whoever it was, he was just as big a sick, twisted fuck as the asshole Sage was currently beating the shit out of.

I swear to god, I just... Kay's tiny, y'know? She's an adult and all, but she looked so little right then. Somehow, I never imagined her being so small, but... god.

There wasn't a square inch of her that wasn't either bruised or bloody. And I do mean that as literally as possible, because at that point her clothes were in such tatters that she might as well have been wearing nothing. Tears were streaming down her face and it was clear she was fighting just to stay conscious. She was soaking wet, and there was no heat in the building, and her body kept making these half-hearted attempts at a shiver to try and conserve body heat, but she didn't even have the energy for that... I couldn't even tell what color her hair was, it was so matted with blood - both dry and wet. There were these little shallow cuts across every visible bit of skin, just deep enough to bleed and keep bleeding. The only deep cuts I could find would a couple of dried-up puncture wounds over the nerve bundles at the shoulder. Well, that, and the numerous needle-piercings that covered her arms. And some telltale rub-marks around her wrists and throat. And the 2nd degree burns on the soles of her feet.

And. And. And. And. And.

Who... Who does this? I mean... fuck!

I'm angry, I'm beyond angry, but thinking about it all again... I'm sad too. I just...

I don't know.

Sage was still fighting the proxy fighting at this point, buying me as much time as he could, but I wasn't really paying attention. This was just too horrifying. I slipped into a light trance - the better one that Sage taught me to do before we left home - and went to work.

The main thing to remember about making anything do anything - including making a human body repair itself, or at least start to - is that you have to imagine yourself to be that thing. I couldn't imagine myself to be Kay; that kind of sensory overload is beyond my comprehension. But I could work on small parts of her at a time. The punctures at her shoulder became less deep. A few bruises lightened in color. The blisters on her feet shrunk in size as I drew out the heat and channeled it back into her core body temperature. Or... that was my intention, anyway, I'm not sure if that particular trick actually worked. But her feet did get a little better...

And she did stop crying. And opened her eyes.

I... I don't even know how to...

She looked at me, and I froze. We're friends, but we're online friends - she'd never seen what I looked like before in her life, just like I had never seen her until now. Did she know who I was? Did she know I was on her side? The expression on her face, the guardedness of her eyes... I'm not going to forget that look for a long, long time.

She looked at me, and then she looked toward the middle of the room. I did too. Sage was still fighting, although he was getting pushed back by now. The proxy was, after all, way bigger than him, but he still hadn't noticed what I was doing. I looked back to Kay and... I don't know what I must have looked like at that point. Questioning? Pleading? Furious? Terrified? Whatever it was, she understood.

More than understood; she started trying to pull herself upright, biting her lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. I helped her as best I could, and we eventually got her settled on my back. She weighed nothing, I swear. I mean, I'm twice her weight to begin with, but I'm not particularly strong, I should've felt something. And I'm going to have to throw out my coat, because I don't think I'll be able to get the blood out of it.


So I was carrying her, doing my best to hold her on without hurting her, and I edged along the outside of the room. Sage knew this part of the plan too, and did his best to keep bastard-proxy looking the other way. I had just reached the door and was wondering how the heck we were going to make it out if Sage couldn't lose the proxy (Kay was unconscious again by this point, I think), when suddenly said proxy hit the floor with a loud thump and didn't get back up.

Sage was standing over him with his bokken, breathing hard, and he kinda fell down, and I almost dropped Kay but then he got up again and he was actually okay, just really really tired. And then he started to head back toward where we came in, but then he stopped, and looked around, and said those magical, heart-stopping words:

"Oh, fuck me sideways. The maze shifted."

That... was bad. Like, really, really bad. We were counting on a quick getaway, considering Kay was unconscious and in more pain than I cared to think about, I'm useless in any sort of combat, and Sage just got out of a fight with a frigging proxy that was likely several weight classes above him and wasn't likely to stay down for more than a minute or two.

And... fuck, those mazes are terrifying. 'Cause, obviously we went through, it was our only option. We went through the only door in the room, and there was nothing but hallways filled with more doors, and the doors all looked the same, and I didn't dare touch a single one except when Sage told me to. Sage was doing... something on the way out, I think he was projecting himself ahead to figure out the right path. It probably took less time than it seemed like, but it was still the most heart-pounding experience I've ever had to go through, because I was the only one with my eyes open. Me! The most inexperienced one there, carrying one and leading the other by the arm while he figured out our route and gave me instructions as we went. Blind leading the blind? Deaf leading the blind, at the very least!

And the entire time, I kept hearing things, little groans coming from behind the doors, little moans and gasps of pain. Christ, were there people in there?! Real, living people, trapped behind those doors? Because if there were, we left them there. We abandoned them in that awful place. Was Kay about to become one of those people? Were they more victims of bastard-proxy's sadism? Sage kept telling me that there were traps behind all those doors, that we couldn't go that way, but I heard them! I think Kay heard them too, or heard something even though she was unconscious, because she kept crying in her sleep, her whimpers adding another to the cacophany in my ears...

My god.

Eventually we got out, but out of a goddamn third story window in the back this time. Still no sign of Slenderfuck fuck fuck fucking what the FUCK kind of bastard ORDERS THIS SHIT

We got out and went straight to the car. We couldn't have been in there for long, but it was already getting dark. Fucking mazes fucking time distortions... Sage drove this time, I sat in the backseat with Kay. I wrapped her up in the blankets we had ready, and I did as much for her as I could. We got to the nearest hospital problem-free, and Sage signed her in instead of me, since his address is already known to proxies but mine isn't. They wouldn't let either of us stay with her while they worked on her, since we're not family, but they also weren't allowed to ask any questions about how we found her that weren't medically relevant.

Sage was the one who came up with the story - he said we rescued her from some guy in a back alley. There's no way that should hold water, and yet it is. No one's asked us a damn thing, even with all the cuts and bruises and some of them from the very beginning are four days healed and why aren't they noticing that? And that's not even getting into all the drugs in her system! Oh god, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do if the police come, but I can't just leave her here. She's not even awake yet. They're dressing her wounds and treating her for exposure, and they're thinking about putting her on some stuff that'll make the detox easier, but they're not sure yet, since they don't know what drugs he was using on her.

So now Sage and I are just sitting in the waiting room of the hospital. He just got off the phone with Lucien - he sent us his phone number along with Kay's address, so we called when we figured out her's location this morning, and when we arrived at the hospital around 7pm, and again just now - and he'll be here soon. Not right away, but soon.

Damn, it's getting late now. And I already know I can't leave Kay, but I did manage to think of one last excuse for my mom. I'm using Darlene again - said she and the others drew up a movie night after training and session at the last minute. Mom's always glad for opportunities for me to socialize more than I do, so she bought it, but said I have to come home tomorrow. That's that, I guess.



I really don't know what else to say. I just... I don't know.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

"Off we go, into the wild blue yonder...
Lost again! Son of a bitch!"

Cheap-ass motel is cheap, but at least I'm paying for my own room this time. Not that Sage didn't try to pay again, but I caught him at it this time.

I wish we could stay out longer, but I hardly ever drive except the distance to the train station and back, or occassionally to the movies or the mall. The first day, being on the highway all day was exhausting. Today, there was less highway and more towns and neighborhoods, and one nerve-wracking drive through a deserted, three-mile-long side-road through the woods.

Our hourly schedule:
Sense the location of the monster.
Calculate the corresponding physical location.
Drive to that location.
Realize that the trail has changed places when we're less than 15 minutes from our destination.
Either repeat steps 1-3 and change direction, or continue to the first destination anyway and search for clues.
If option 2, spend 10 minutes to an hour at said location, searching for some evidence of Kay, It, or proxy activity.
Find nothing.

I barely slept last night. Sage did, but I think he was working through his sleep anyway. He can do that sort of thing, it seems. I mostly checked up on the blogs. Dear god, the blogs. I'm gone for a day or two, and everything goes to heaven and hell all at the same time!

Ava is awake and, apparently, well. I positively jumped for joy, and Sage wasn't far behind me.

Fizzbomb is... alive? Either that or someone's fucking with us using her profile. Personally, I'm hoping for the latter, because no one deserves that. Also, what the heck did Jeff find if it wasn't Fizzy's body?! Or was that just another hallucination?

Vivi is getting nightmares about you-know-who. This is beginning to look more and more like yet another botched memory-wipe, but for their sake I hope it's not.

Alora got Labyrinth'd last night. I saw the update this morning and did what I could, but it looks like it worked - she's back. Terrified, but back.

Fakelight is fake. Sage owes me five bucks.

And lord knows what else on the stuff I'm not yet watching.

...I never thought I'd be doing this. Less than a week after I get paralyzed with fear at the fucking sight of It, and I'm chasing after It to rescue a friend. I was never that kind of person, I'm still not. But... there's no one else who can do it. Sage and I are probably the only ones who are remotely close enough, although it's not done much good when he can't nail a solid lead on the damn thing. Besides, he can't do this alone. 1) It's not safe, and 2) he can't drive and project at the same time. Also, 3) even if there was someone else around, I think I'm the only one outside of Kay who can actually understand what Sage talks about and talk it back to him.

The fact that I've got a friend with me, a very powerful friend, certainly helps in the courage department.

It's not just necessity though, I'll be the first to admit that. Kay's my friend, and... the stuff she wrote about what she's going through... it's just sickening on so many levels. I'm rather pacifistic by nature, but if this guy is doing what I suspect he's doing... there will be a reckoning. This isn't just Slenderman anymore. This is a regular, everyday sicko who has targeted someone I care about. And maybe he's using supernatural means to hide from us, but we will find him. Goddammit, we will.

...-sigh- Other than that small rant, nothing new to report on. I still can't sleep though, so maybe I'll just write whatever?

I know I said before that I've dabbled in magick before too, and when I'm not reading at night or during rest stops, I'm practicing what healing I know. Particularly the pain-block effects, 'cause God knows we're going to need that the most. I don't know how much it'll do, but lord knows Sage is the polar opposite of a medic, so it kind of falls to me, since I do at least know a lot of first-aid. And knowledge of what you're doing really helps in this departlemt, let me assure you.

Also, this is officially my third night in a row away from home. Sunday night, Monday night, and now Tuesday night. My mom's started calling me almost hourly, and I have to pull off the side of the road each time so she doesn't know I'm driving. The first night, she met Sage, and we both "went to Danielle's house". The second night, I said I stayed at Danielle's again and went straight to school from there. Tonight, I "reminded" her of a conveniently-placed training session for work that will take place tomorrow morning, early, so co-worker Darlene offered to let me stay in her dorm for the night to save time. Mom trusts me, but I'm running out of excuses.

Hell, at least I know we're not doing anything important in my classes at the moment. I do kind of miss my philosophy class though, even though I've only missed one day. We're reading Confessions right now, and it's actually way more interesting than I would've given it credit for. Today we were supposed to talk about that bit in book 7 that pulls out a different definition of the concept of "evil" - rather than being a force that "good" fights against, it is simply a lack of good. It really follows along with this other book (series) I've read, which fascinated me to no end. The main idea is

Excuse me, I just had a rather crazy idea. It could work, I guess, but... I'll have to run it by Sage first. I wonder if he's asleep yet? Hope he won't be mad at me if he is. Excuse me.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Excuse me, excuse me.

I just felt the need to post this snippet of a phone conversation with AmalgamationSage here, because it's the only bit of genuine, anxiety-piercing hilarity I've come across in over a week.

Me: I mean, things like Slendy are bound to leave a trail with their presence, right? If electrical equipment pick up the resonance, then so could we, I bet.
Sage: Oh yeah, definitely. But finding Kay's house will be harder.
Me: Oh?
Sage: Well we know she's near the Pine Barrens. I'm thinking the most reliable way to do it would be to get a general location by digging through missing persons reports for her godchildren, then stack up the number of times Slenderdouche has popped up around her house and scan the area for that sort of resonance. It wouldn't give us an exact location, but by that point we'd be down to asking neighbors, which shouldn't be too--
Me: Or we could just e-mail her brother and ask for her address.
Sage: -long pause- ...You are no fun at all.

I lol'd.

Yes, we're going after Kay. And yes, I'm breaking my own rule on this one in informing you all about it. We've got a plan, and this plan is so unbelievably insane that there will be no preparing for it, no seeing it coming. Nothing could see this coming.

Sage, for the first time since I've known you, I am beginning to take your little "I might be crazy" moniker seriously. O_o

Hold on, Kay. We'll be seeing you soon.

Don't think about it. Just keep moving forward.

"Highrise, veins of the avenue.
Bright eyes in subtle variations of blue.
Everywhere is balanced there
Like a rainbow above you.
Streetlights glisten on the boulevard,
And cold nights make staying alert so hard...
For heaven's sake, keep me awake
So I won't be caught off-guard."

Yep, more Owl City. I swear, their music does wonders for my psyche.

Campus security has been informed of an attempted mugging from a tall, thin guy in a suit, although they were kind of suspicious about why I couldn't put a face to him yet somehow also knew he was bald. Heh. I also told a few friends to be on the lookout for certain things. Not listing what those things are, nope.

It's... a strange thing. I've noticed that when this sort of thing first happens, it is our first instinct to isolate ourselves... either out of fear of being disbelieved or an attempt to keep the danger from spreading, I suppose. But that reaction doesn't just apply to encounters with It - victims of rape or muggings do it too. Or people who witness a murder or other tragedy. Or even people who are simply depressed.

Why do we do that to ourselves? Why do we run and hide from the world at the first sign of some perceived weakness? Do we fear rejection or resentment from our emotionally stronger peers? Has it been so instilled in us that we must punch through our troubles on our own that we reject help even when it's offered? Are we simply unwilling to admit that we need help, need support; that asking for help is the same as admitting your own incompetence?

I am incompetent. But while stupidity is fatal, ignorance can be cured. I'm still learning. I will continue learning. It's the only thing I can do at this point; it's been that way for a while. End of story.

Otherwise, a big thank you to everyone who commented. Even if our first instinct is isolation, support from others helps so much more than anyone ever realizes. I... really don't know any way to say it that hasn't been said already.

For now, though, back to work.

Our dear Informant has been less helpful than I had hoped for, although I don't think I can hold that against him. Multi-dimensionality is a bitch, apparently. He did reveal some things though, things that were not related to my original questions... which, I think, is what he actually wanted me to ask about. Well, assuming he was actually referring to me specifically in that last bit, I will try to ask the right questions next time around.

Although how everyone completely overlooked kanic acid as a replacement cure is completely beyond my comprehension! I mean seriously people! Just because a lot of people didn't particularly like Jay doesn't mean we can just ignore all the research he did for us. Core Theory may or may not be a load of crap, I haven't decided yet, but the Sages at least did their jobs. Yeah, kanic acid is dangerous, but there are... one, maybe two other ideas for a cure floating around in theorydom, completely unreliable and untested. Until we get clearer answers, I say we go with what we've got.

That said, I strongly encourage the relevant people to go and get those clearer answers. Just sayin'.

Some other things that may be extrapolated from Informant's answers:

Dimensional bleeding is a fact.

The "veil" between worlds is becoming unstable, which is what allowed Informant to communicate with us.

Said veil will soon be pulled back entirely, and permanently. According to both Informant and AmalgamationSage, this would be a very, very, very bad thing. Very bad. Sage in particular used such creative terminology as "devestatingly important", "a million billion times worse", and "every mythical nightmare you never wanted to be real being dropped in our laps". I remain unsure if it'll be quite as bad as all that, but given who Sage is, I'm inclined to take his word for it.

Next up, the situation with Zero.

Please, for the love of god, people, stop flipping out on him! Yeah, he's gone a little batshit, I'll admit that. But do you honestly think that yelling at him about what he's become will help the situation even one iota?! No. This requires delicacy of the highest order, and you short-fused people are only going to make it worse if you keep this up.

Speak gently, and use logic. If you see him, and he is actually trying to kill you, then maybe it's time to use a bit of force. But here on the blogs? There's no reason at all to be anything but calm around him.

Finally, Morningstar.

I'm sorry to have to inform you that... you don't really scare me. Yeah, I know who you are, I know what you've done, but... I don't know. It's stopped having any effect. It didn't have much of an effect to begin with, but whatever fright you used to instill in me is long gone now.

It is not actions that rouse an emotional reaction from me, Morningstar. It is intent. The state of the villain's mind. It takes a particular breed of insanity - the exact right combination of sadism, manipulation, attention to detail, and apathy - to send a chill down my spine. You... don't have it. I care enough to want to help you out with your Hesperus problem, if only for Tensor's sake, but I don't care enough to fear you.

My appologies if this revelation came as a disappointment.

That's it for now, I suppose. I'll be taking my video camera with me to school from now on. I won't film myself constantly, oh no. That would only lead to paranoia, not to mention make me highly consipicuous. But if I'm ever alone on the streets somewhere (which I really don't plan to be, but things do tend to happen), I'll switch it on as a precaution.

Later guys. Be safe.

And thank you. Really.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Yesterday & The Day Before

"I know what it takes to move on.
I know how it feels to lie.
All I want to do
Is trade this life for something new;
Holding onto what I haven't got."

I didn't sleep well last night, no surprise. Still, it's time for an explanation.

I would've let you guys know what was going on before now, but I didn't want to give away information to potential enemy eyes -coughMorningstarcough- before it was safe to do so. And then I would've posted it yesterday, but I was still kind of weirded out (read: freaking the fuck out and playing it off as PMS in a desperate attempt to hide it from my parents) and not exactly coherent. Also, again, I wanted to have a little bit of time between the actual event and the record of it, for obvious reasons.

Just... goddamn. Maybe I'm whining.. Scratch that, I know I'm whining, at least compared to some other things I've read. But seriously. If this never happens again, it'll be too soon. But somehow, I know better than to hope for that.

This is what happened.


About a month ago, I drew an Operator Symbol on the side of an old abandoned church near my university campus. Yeah, stupid of me, I know, but it was one of the things I was adamantly curious about - whether it attracted It, repelled It, or had any other properties. I had some vague ideas of a longitudinal study in my head that I could maybe eventually make a post about, but I honestly didn't think anything would happen, not with one tiny little symbol.

And aside from the fact that the mark hasn't washed away or faded in the least, even though it has rained and snowed several times since I placed it there, nothing has happened. The symbol got noticed, but not by It.

Three days ago, when I walked past the church and checked the mark as per usual, there was something else there. Someone had written in chalk underneath the symbol:


I didn't waste any time, I didn't even think. I just went straight back to campus, logged onto the network, found a binary translator, and printed out the following message:

"01001101 01000101 01000101 01010100 00100000 01001101 01000101 00100000 01000001 01010100 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01000011 01001111 01010010 01001110 01000101 01010010 00100000 01001111 01000110 00100000 00110100 01010100 01001000 00100000 01000001 01001110 01000100 00100000 01000011 01001111 01001111 01010000 01000101 01010010 00100000 01001111 01001110 00100000 01010100 01010101 01000101 01010011 00100000 01001101 01000001 01010010 01000011 01001000 00100000 00110010 00110010 00100000 01000001 01010100 00100000 00110001 00110010 00111010 00110010 00110000 01010000 01001101


-A friend."

I put the paper in an envelope, drew another Operator Symbol on the back, and tucked it behind the drainage pipe that was near where I drew the first symbol.

And then I went home and waited. And tossed up the previous post, but mostly waited.

I've mentioned I hate waiting, right?

The next day, I looked behind the pipe, and the note was gone. Either the person who wrote the message had found it, or it had been removed/thrown away by some random passerby.

I was jumpy all through my first class, waiting for free period to start. I wound up leaving about 15 minutes early just because I was so antsy. Luckily we weren't doing anything terribly important. Whatever. Anway, I left early and ran straight for the meeting place.

There was only one other person there, and since I didn't know whether my mystery person had actually found my message, I took a moment to size him up first, and he didn't see me because he was too busy scribbling furiously on a little yellow legal pad. That was the first thing I noticed, actually, the thing that made me look twice. After that, I noticed a lot of little things - his limp, unkept hair; the dark circles under his eyes; the rips and nicks in his heavy winter coat (which he wore and shivered in despite it being actually nice out that day).

Of course, that kind of physical description could apply to any homeless person, although the apparent lack of sleep was rather telling. What really gave it away, though, was what he was scribbling. I couldn't read his handwriting, but there was no mistaking the enormous, crooked, vaguely human-shaped drawing that dominated the right half of the page.

And even then, I realize, it was also possible that he was just some random kid who had watched too much Marble Hornets, but... Well, let's just say I'm rather good at reading people at a glance, and I knew he was way further gone than that. There's scared, and then there's scared. And everything about this guy told me that he was terrified.

So... I approached him. I asked if he was the one who found my note. He said yes. He asked if I was the one who drew the Operator symbol. I said yes. I took him to the cafeteria and bought him lunch. And we talked.

Dear lord, did we talk.

His name is Michael. He's been on the run for about 4 weeks now, although he was originally infected via EverymanHYBRID, not Marble Hornets. Probably the reason he wound up coming to New Jersey, actually (he lives in Indiana, or did), though he said he just hopped the first available bus out, not caring where it went.

We talked about a bunch of stuff, although most of it is really his story to tell. Strangely enough, he had never heard of all the blogs over here before. He did, however, have an iPod Touch on him, so I told him to check it out. Naturally, the first place I sent him to was The Tutorial.

He... he calmed down as the day went on. I mean, he went to class with me and everything, cuz this is college and I'm allowed to do that, but mostly he just sat quietly and read the blogs. In all honesty, I think it was just the sheer number of bloggers out there that comforted him. No one likes to think they're alone in the world. Not to mention it's hard not to feel safe on campus. It's so much... cleaner than the city. Even the air.

Anyway, throughout my last class, I kept wondering what the heck I was going to do with Michael. I don't live in a dorm, I commute, and I couldn't exactly take him home with me. That would not go over well with my parents. But I couldn't just leave him either. He had been sleeping on the streets, at ground level, under a tree, for chrissake. I have nothing against trees. Personally, I think they're just as terrified as we are. But there's no point in taking unnecessary risks, and Michael was just so massively unprepared for life as a Runner... oi.

Luckily, help arrived from a most unexpected source. Around dinner, I ran into Bashawn, one of the people I work with at the preschool. Now, Bay is, quite literally, the sweetest, kindest, and most social person I know. When he saw me, he immediately came over to say hi, and asked who my friend was.

Cue a lightbulb popping into existance over my head.

I told Bay that Michael was an online friend of mine who recently got into some trouble with his family. They kicked him out, and he needed a place to crash for the night. I asked if, since my parents would react very negatively to me bringing a stranger home, if he could stay in Bay's dorm for the night.

Bay, being the generous and social person that he is, agreed.

Honestly, I was a little worried that Michael would object to this plan at some point, as Bay was (to him) a virtual stranger who is very much not in-the-know about all this supernatural stuff. But it was better than sleeping on the street for another night. Not to mention Bay is the type of person you just instantly trust.

So I gave Michael my e-mail and MSN screenname, we parted ways, and I went home again. This time, though, instead of sitting around waiting, I ran a few errands. I bought a handful of essentials that Michael didn't have on him or didn't think he'd need when he started out. I also snuck a taser out of our basement (my dad has all kinds of military-grade crap down there) and snagged a handful of my brother's Wawa free-hoagie coupons.

That night Michael and I did a lot more talking (Bay let him borrow his laptop). Mostly I filled him in on what we think we know about It and Its proxies, and every rule for Running I could think of. Sleep at least three stories up. Use artificial lighting sparingly. Never go into the woods. Stick to heavily-populated areas. Try not to stay in one place for more than a few days. Check the watch I bought him frequently to guard against lost time.

I let him make his own judgement call on how to use an Operator symbol.

I also told him he should probably make a blog, rather than scribble incoherently on a notepad that could easily get lost and had no timestamps on it. He said he'd consider it.

The next day (yesterday) was a work day for me. Bay and I, plus a few others on our team, help out at the preschool during the day, moderate an after-school program in the afternoon, and have a meeting around lunch.

Bay brought Michael along to the team meeting and introduced him to everybody. Again, Michael mostly sat quietly and read on his iPod for the duration. After the meeting was over, Bay took us both aside and asked if Michael needed another day to get his act together. Bay and I both looked at Michael, who shook his head.

Even though I was worried, I also approved. Michael was a fast learner, and he knew it was time to move on before Bay or I got noticed by Tall Pale And Faceless. So before I had to go back to the preschool, we both thanked Bay, I gave Michael his new stuff, and walked him to the train station.

It was at this point that things got bad.

It was as we were walking past the pedestrian tunnel that goes under the highway that it happened. Michael and I were going over his chosen route to his destination (which shall not be discussed here), when Michael just... froze, mid-sentence. His eyes went wide, and he shivered, and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Michael wasn't looking at me anymore. He was looking at something behind me.

Something waiting inside the tunnel.

I swallowed. "It's here, isn't It?" I breathed.

He nodded in such a way that could be interpreted as another shiver. I have no idea if that was intentional on his part or not.

Looking back, I'm honestly surprised I didn't bolt right then and there, or at least have some kind of breakdown. I think it was because I couldn't actually see It this time. And that was what I clung to, really: that oldest of childhood axioms, second only to the impenetrable shielding abilities of a common blanket... If I can't see It, It can't see me. An utter fabrication, I know. Completely ludicrous. And yet it's what allowed me to stay... rational. I wasn't calm, I was far from calm. At that point, I wondered if I would ever be able to be calm again. But I could still think. Which was more than I could say for Michael at that point...

"Keep looking at it," I whispered. Actually, I'm pretty sure I stuttered a hell of a lot, but there is really no point in writing it out. Honestly. "Don't look at Its fa-- Don't look at Its head, just... stare at Its torso or something. Just don't take your eyes off It."

And... we walked. I grabbed hold of Michael's arm, kept my eyes on my shoes, and walked us both forward, towards the station. I knew that as long as Michael was watching It, we might be able to outrun It if we didn't panic.

I was right. It didn't move from the mouth of the tunnel. But that was also the problem, because when we got far enough away, Michael couldn't see It anymore. He started shaking real bad in my grasp; maybe he was actually trying to pull away and bolt. I couldn't really tell, I was concentrating too hard on staying grounded. I do remember he was talking, though. Too fast to catch more than the odd snippet.

I think he might have called me Claire at one point.

Oh god. I'm stalling, I know. I don't want to write this next part.

With no one watching It, It could have been anywhere. And it was.

With Michael still staring backwards towards the tunnel and me looking at nothing but my shoes, neither of us could see It coming.

I... I don't even know if came is the right word, because it was just there, all at once, right in front of us. Like, right fucking there! I almost fucking bumped into It! Oh god oh god oh god It was so cold, like walking into a freezer, like a fucking Dementor. I froze, I couldn't move at all, my mind was a complete blank all I could see was Its... good god, has anyone ever actually looked at Its feet? Everyone's always so busy with the facehead and the tentacles and occassionally the goddamn tie, but no one ever looks at the rest of It. I couldn't even call these "feet", they were like sticks stuck into the ground. Even though we were standing on concrete, they still look like they went on forever, underground, no matter how far you dug you'd never be able to find it all they penetrate the earth's very core It's part of it It'll never go away

Sorry. I... god.

Michael ran. It... went after him. I just stood there, frozen, still staring at the place where Its "feet" used to be. Watching them move was... I don't even know. It couldn't have picked the sticks up out of the ground, but there were no holes left either. No path. No sign that It was there at all. But It must have been, because I have less money in my account and my brother saw me take the taser and Bay asked about Michael today. Michael was there. And he still is; I got an email from him late last night. He survived. He didn't say how, but he must have gotten away and gotten where he needed to go.

I stood in that spot for over an hour, staring at the ground. I couldn't move, I was too scared. It was real too, it had to have been. Nothing else does that to me. God, it was just like two years ago. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything I just stood there and let It

But Michael made it out. Somehow. He's okay. Oh, thank god he's okay.

It wasn't until my phone beeped that I could move again. It was a text from a co-worker, asking where I was. I had stood there long enough to be late for work at the preschool.

I texted her back and said I was taking a sick day. And then I sat in my car for two hours so my parents wouldn't know I cut work. And I cried. And then I drove home and pretended everything was okay.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Something came up. Don't wanna post info now, posting would be a bad, bad idea. Look for an update in a few days.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Analysis of the Reach Revelation

"All your secrets crawl inside.
You keep them safe. You let them hide.
You feel them drinking in your pain to kill the memories,
So close your eyes and let it hurt.
The voice inside begins to stir.
Are you reminded of all you used to be?"

Y'know, as it happens, I adore 30 Seconds To Mars. And Inception and The Prestige are two of my all-time favorite movies. Honestly.

So... Reach. Or Ray. I think I shall call him Reach when referring to him, but Ray when speaking to him. That's a good compromise. Ray, if you ever find the time to check out my little corner of the internet, kindly don't take the following personally. This is just me thinking out loud.

I've been doing a lot of thinking this weekend. My grades are probably going to suffer for it, because I've been procrastinating on an essay that's due on Tuesday, but hey - mine is the brain that never sleeps. And while I may not be quite as analytical as Scott, I think I've got a pretty good grip on the pros and cons of this situation, the "positive"s and "negative"s, the "neutral"s and the "WTF"s.

As it stands, I am inclined to believe Reach's new life story, I honestly am. It makes a hell of a lot more practical sense, not to mention I think this version of his life would probably be easier on his head and his heart. However, there's still a lot that needs explaining.

POSITIVES: Facts that argue for this new version of events.

Jeff's death suddenly makes a lot more sense. As tragic as that whole ordeal was, one thing that was always in the back of my mind was, Revenants don't work that way. If Reach's story was anything to go by (and, at the time, Reach's word on the subject was pretty much unquestioned), making a Revenant into a human again requires a lot more than a single tentacle-stab. Jeff didn't die because he couldn't heal any longer. He died because he couldn't heal to begin with, and it finally got to be too much for him.

All the things Reach mentioned on his blog post, about how the "Revenants" at Fairfax were gunned down so easily... and just his entire story. It makes sense, far more sense than I ever expected it too.

I can see the MO, I really can. I can just picture Slendy sitting back, watching us fight each other, and having a good laugh. It's always been about having us defeat ourselves, and this fits into that perfectly.

Just... little pointless things that make me want to believe it. His relationship with Ava is no longer "all kinds of Meyerpire cliche", as Ava once put it. It's not a Mayfly December Romance, nor even a May December Romance. That's good, that makes me happy for them.
I no longer have to think of a way to appologize for calling him Raymond in my very first comment on his blog - back before I had seen the little addendum asking people to kindly not do that. Yeah, I know it's dumb, but I'm weird like that. >_<
Morningstar can no longer taunt him by calling him Ray, because it's no longer a taunt. It's just his name.
He has an actual freaking family now. Maybe that's a weakness in the long run, but if this is true, I am so ridiculously happy for him. You don't even know.

And countless accounts from other bloggers that now make sense, if the comments on Reach's blog are anything to go by. I've not yet read up on some of these things, but I'll take it as is for now.

NEGATIVES: Facts that argue against this new version of events.

Although Jeff's death makes more sense, his life suddenly makes less. Despite the questionable method of his death, the circumstances surrounding it still leave a lot to be answered. The guy bent iron bars, for goodness sake! Not to mention the properties of the proxy cure, which has its own entry under "WTFs".

There is absolutely no denying that freaky things have happened around certain individuals. Known Conduits have proven to have certain abilities. Will can move energy around. Daniel can read and influence people's minds. Tenebria can do... whatever it is she claimed to be able to do (I've not yet read up on Exilis Veritas, forgive me). Tom can freaking teleport! More to the point, Tom has had his abilities researched and tested by the science guys at the PTC (debatable though their word's reliability currently is), and he's helped people get around. My point is, all of this clearly exists. It was not a hallucination.

By the same token, there are definitely a handful of bad guys who have shown superhuman capabilities, things that are outside the realm of possibility even under some kind of "mass hallucination" that Slenderp is supposedly capable of putting us under. Michael Greene, aka Moriarty, is a prime example. Scott shot the guy in the head. We're talkin' a good-sized hole, here.  And as far as we currently know, Greene healed, got up, and walked away not long after that.
The PTC has also had to deal with Revenants, many of them. And, as Specter recently noted, the carnage they caused simply cannot be faked, any way you slice it.

Naturally, Reach's sanity is called into question. Any way you look at it, his first post revealing the subject was... more than a little off-kilter. And, as mentioned by both me and Scott, it's entirely possible that he cracked under the stress and created another story for himself, one that was easier to bear. All subsequent comment replies (save, possibly, the very first one) and his later post were just as well-written and coherent as ever, but still.

How in the hell did Reach survive on crackers and water all this time if he's nothing but a human with a human metabolism? One would think he'd have died of malnutrition by now, or at least gotten so weak he couldn't even hallucinate some of the feats of strength he's performed.

You can't use Occam's Razor as an argument, man. Some eldritch abomination hypnotizing you and countless others to convince you that superpowers exist is a hell of a lot more complicated than superpowers actually existing. Or so it seems to me.

Finally, as noted above, there's no getting around that superpowers, well... do exist. And I'm not just talking about Conduits and Revenants, I'm talking about regular, everyday magick. Stuff that gets pulled off every day by people like Kay and AmalgamationSage and... well, me, though I'm worse than an ameture on the subject. I just mean to say, I've seen it, I've done it, and it works.

NEUTRALS: Facts that are debatable, either in their stand-alone truthfulness or in their position in this debate.

People don't just... gain forty years of experience and regret overnight. Losing Ariana must have been horrible, I know, but... just from a purely psychological standpoint, I honestly couldn't be sure whether or not "Reach the Revenant" would have resulted, Slender's influence or not.

On that same note, Reach has repeatedly demonstrated knowledge of culture from decades back. I suppose Slendy could've placed that in your head too, but... how would It know what to put there? How many times has it been stated, explained, and demonstrated that Slenderman knows nothing, cares nothing, about human culture?

"I can see the scars now, I can see them everywhere..."
Any scars that Reach has can easily be due to all the trauma his body recieved from Redlight and from Slenderp after he became human again. However, he could also be referring to other scars he should've gotten from other beatings he's received as a Revenant, so I'll leave that open.

Redlight, speak-of-the-devil, is the other neutral point. If implanting this idea of Revenants and Conduits into the blogging community was such a resounding success, there is no reason why Slenderp shouldn't try it again. Robert did say that It wants him alive, and he did say that he was Its greatest weapon. Are there multiple Redlights? We don't know. If this was an implanted idea, it's taken a hell of a lot less hold on the population. A handful of blogging proxies have spoken of Red as a plural, so it could be implanted. But it could also just be Robert's insanity talking, and proxies playing along to confuse us. Or it could actually be true. We simply - don't - know.

WTFs: Further questions that all of this brings up.

Putting the question of why she didn't recognize that Reach was not the guy who dealed her (which, I suppose, could be explained as her hallucinating and relying on false memories as well)... who actually did deal her? I dunno about you guys, but this stikes me as very important! Thage is apparently getting back in the game somehow, but does this little revelation affect any of that? Does it affect how she's able to move and maneuver? Currently she's banking on the points she gained for outting Jeff, but how far can that be pushed? How much further - or less far - can it be pushed if her dealer isn't an ally?
Or if her dealer is dead?

If she is Reach's mother, and not his daughter as we originally believed, why have there never been reports of her looking for her son? Especially after the Redlight incident - we can't assume that she actually saw Reach there, but we could probably assume that she figured something out. Heck, just... Where is Catherine at all? We were told she was killed, then we were told she was alive, then we were told she had been informed of Reach's position and was currently being watched/haunted... and then we were told nothing. She just dropped off the map entirely, and everyone forgot about her. Where is she?

The cure.
We've been assuming that what made the cure work was two things: the fact that Jeff was a Revenant, and the fact that, despite being a Revenant, he was able to somehow ignore Slenderp's compulsions. If that wasn't it, then what was it that did it? I mean, no one was ever told exactly how the cure was made, which, upon hindsight, I think was phenomenally stupid. Suppose Cheska hadn't survived, huh? Then instead of maybe getting a cure replacement, we would have nothing. As it is, we now have even less to go on, because if it wasn't Jeff's Revenant blood that did the trick, what was it?

Dimensional bleeding?
It was Specter who first noted the possibility of this affecting Reach as well, although I, personally, am skeptical on this count. But I'll stick it up here anyway.

(Edit: The points about Thage and Catherine have been resolved. Or... answered, at any rate. We'll see what happens next for any sort of resolution.)

Finally, there is the comment AmalgamationSage left on Reach's blog, which more or less boils down to "We all go insane in this venture at one point or another, so it's really beyond pointless to try and figure out what's real and what's not while we still don't know. Such efforts are really put to better use against our common enemy, so who cares if something was a lie or not, as long as you're still fighting?"

At least, I think that's what he said. It's difficult to tell sometimes. ^^U

All in all, for now, I'll just keep my eyes open and go on like I always have. However, I know all of this affects others a hell of a lot more than it affects me, so I hope this helps in some way. At the very least, I helped do some of the legwork for Scott's inevitable tretise on the subject. XD

NOTE: Links will be added to the relevant locations when I have the time.

Friday, March 18, 2011


I won the contest on Specter's Blog, but... I have no idea what I should ask.

Guess I didn't go into that one very prepared... -_-U

For those who don't know, someone hijacked Specter's Blog (not Observe and Terminate, his personal one) and posted three riddles/questions, and the person who answered the most correct would get to ask three questions of their own.

So. Any suggestions, and I mean any suggestions, of questions to ask, leave them below. I'll have to ask the first one by tomorrow at least.

One thing I was considering asking was about the Zero/Remnant thing. Or perhaps whether or not there actually are multiple Redlights. But again, leave suggestions with phrasing and all that. I'd like to make this count, if I can.

Thanks for your help!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Music, Updates, And A Request Or Three

"Now dance, fucker, dance!
Man, he never stood a chance.
And no one even knew
It was really only you.

"And as you steal away,
Take him out today.
Nice work you did.
You're gonna go far, kid."


I love it to death. Honestly. Dunno if you've noticed, but I could live and die by the stuff on my iPod. I make AMVs in my spare time (don't judge me!). When I first started writing fanfics, nearly all of them were songfics. Even now, I still attach lyrics to nearly everything I write, including school essays when I can get away with it.

But the best part is, as long as music is playing, I can't concentrate on anything else.

Not homework.

Not family.

Not even It.

I compare it to the soundtracks of movies, really. Very, very rarely will you encounter a scarey movie that is actually scarey once the background music is removed. And even then, if different music is substituted, even freaking Paranormal Activity (which I watched, like an idiot, just before bed the other night) loses some of its horror. So why not do yourself a favor and sleep with the music on? It'll keep you calm when there's nothing to worry about, and it'll give you an electrical warning when there is. Win-win. ^^

Either that, or look at some lolcats to keep your spirits up. I'm told that works very well too. XD


Ho hum...

Been rather quiet lately, at least on the blogs I'm watching. Calm before the storm, methinks. Either that, or the storm's going on now, and we're not going to hear about it for another few days. Either way, there's still nothing I can do. This is shaping up to be a very uneventful spring break.

Thank god for that, huh? -_-U

Scott's more or less alright, and so is Will. The name "Xavier" threw me for a loop initially, but I re-checked the older posts on Will's blog and remembered what the heck he was talking about. Obviously, the guy was just that forgettable.

I continue to have opinions about Morningstar. Morningstar continues to fail to earn the right to hear those opinions by being an all-around douchebag, Quisling, and peddler of underage Taiwanese boyflesh.

(Why yes, that was a shout-out. You're welcome. =P)

Alora and Daniel are also alright, for now.

No news from Stormecho in a while, hope she's okay. Poor kid.

Ava is... well, jury's out, but I maintain hope.

I do hear that the situation in Boston is heating up, but I'm not yet following that story. Definitely on my list, though. As are Jean and Kim; hoping they're all alright as well.

About the only interesting (aka bad) bit of news is that I haven't checked Twitter in a while ('cause it's a retarded and redundant site that I barely have any idea how to use), but when I did, I discovered that Noah of TribeTwelve had a bad run-in with It and hasn't been heard from since Sunday. What little I could translate of the codes he posted were rather troubling, but I couldn't get a hit on that longer code. If anyone can point me in the right direction, I'd be grateful.

Still gathering information on the whole "perception filter" phenomenon, if I may coin a Whoniverse phrase. So far it seems like the interference is directly in the brain, but that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, at least in terms of practicality.

Say, Morningstar! How's about a trade of information: you tell me what you know of how It blocks things from people's sight, and I tell you about all the hypocracies and inconsistancies I noticed during the whole "Life or Death poll" last week. What'cha think? Considering your bosses were seriously considering offing you, some information might be worth your while. ~_^

Oh, and one last thing:


That is all. ~_^

Til next time, everyone.

Stay safe, stay happy.

Saturday, March 12, 2011


"My stage is shared by millions
Who lift their hands up high because they feel this.
We are one. We are strong.
The more you hold us down, the more we press on."

(Appologies for the delay. Friggin' exam week...)

I think I'm getting into the swing of things now. Y'know, two panic attacks and one death later. And that's just in the blogs I'm following; God knows what else is going on out there. Rest in peace, Jeff. A flight of angels sing thee to thy rest.

Not, of course, that I could have done anything about anything. That by itself is probably what pisses me off the most. While we're not the center of the action, all we can do is watch, and wait, and pray to see another update. 'Cause if we don't, we will honestly never know what happened. No one ever will.

Like I said, I hate waiting.

It wasn't until recently that it really sunk in that people I know, people I respect, maybe even people I love, are going to die. Before their time. And that's not panic talking this time, it's just a fact. But with that realization, I also remembered that all of it would have happened whether or not I was here to see it. The fact that I now run a blog, the f act that I even exist did nothing to change the facts. Jeff never knew me, and I never knew him until it was already too late. Hell, barely a handful of people in the community even know who I am. The only difference my being here made was that I got to experience this sense of loss that I don't quite understand and probably don't even deserve.

It's that helplessness again, that same goddamn feeling of "What's the point?" that's plagued my life more than once. And at first it pissed me off again, because I thought I was done being apathetic, or why else would I have even come here? Now, though... now I'm just calm. Tempered, I guess you'd call it.

And I guess that brings us into today's "lesson".

Not to get all New Age-y spiritual on you guys, but it is my belief that all human action stems from one of two basic emotions: love or fear. All other emotions, positive and negative, are offshoots of these two basic ideas. In general, it is always best to act with love rather than fear, in order to have a happy life and be a good person.

This is not to say that fear is a bad thing, of course. Far from it. Fear heightens your senses, sharpens your instincts, and speeds up your reactions. Fear brings adreneline, which allows the body to perform otherwise impossible feats. Fear is just as much your tool as any other aspect of you. The trick is remembering that you can use your fear, because if you don't, your fear will use you.

It's when your fear starts to control you that it morphs into panic. And panic is... well, needless to say, panic is bad. Instead of sharpening your senses, panic will confuse them, trick them, make you doubt them (which thrusts panic levels even higher, I might add). Fear can spur on intuitive leaps, but panic will make connections where none exist.

You panic, you make mistakes. And generally, when dealing with this sort of thing, if you make mistakes, you die. Simple as that.

Now, all of this has been common sense so far. Everyone knows that, tentacles, arson, and knife-wielding proxies aside, the greatest threat to our survival lies within our own minds, and what exposure to Slenderman can do to us on the inside. The formation of a community among bloggers has done wonders for keeping the panic and paranoia down to managable levels, at least during the stalking stage. But out in the field? Can you keep a tight rein on your emotions when you're literally within spitting distance of what has been repeatedly described as fear incarnate?

It all goes back to what I said in my very first post. Take your fear and make it into an object, something you can look at and analyze from the outside. This is a godawful hard thing to do, I know, especially if It's standing right there, exuding fear like an inferno exudes heat. Most people, I've noticed, simply repress their fear, but this is a stopgap only. The only way to take control of it is to confront it. When you acknowledge every aspect of your fear, without reservation or judgement, it becomes yours.

When I was young, I was afraid the dark, just like any child. Whenever I needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, when all the lights were off, I was always forced to sprint the distance across the hall and slam the door behind me once I reached my destination. It wasn't the darkness itself I was afraid of, it was what might be lurking in the shadows around the corner. Most of all, I was terrified that something might be standing right behind me, ready to slash my throat.

Intellectually, I knew that there was nothing there. But that didn't stop the panic from rising in my throat every time I opened the door to what seemed like endless dark unknown. It didn't stop my heart from racing every time I made that terrifying journey, time and time again. But then I realized: All I needed to do was prove to myself that my fears were wrong. So the next night, I simply walked into the center of my pitch-black hallway... and waited.

The logic was simple. I ran because I was certain something would get me if I didn't run. So naturally, if I didn't run, something would get me. However, since I knew intellectually that nothing was there, nothing would get me even if I stood stock-still.

I didn't have to wait long, because the instant I made that decision, the fear was gone. There was no longer any feeling of being watched, of something looming just out of sight. The moment I actually put my fears to the test, they vanished completely. The moment I confronted myself, I was free.

Slenderman is different, however; very real and very dangerous. There is no testing to see whether or not It will kill you, because eventually It will. It's not some formless shadow in the night, and It's certainly not a figment of your imagination, to be erased at your whim. However, the principle of confronting your fears remains the same, it just has to be done in a different setting.

Try and find a safe place. Maybe have someone there to watch your back if possible. Take all your fears and break them down into their component parts, and own each part of them. That right there is actually the most important part: recognize way down deep that your fears are yours. Practice this until it's ingrained in you to think this way automatically. That way, when Dapper comes a-calling, you'll be ready.

You are at the center and you are in control. Others like Slenderman can use your fears against you, it's true. But only if you still consider your fears to be something outside of you, something outside your control.

It's an odd process, I suppose. First you need to separate yourself from your fear, then you need to deconstruct it, and then internalize it at an even deeper level. It's a shift in the entire way you think, really. It takes time, and it takes practice, and I'm sorry I can't explain it better than this, but it works. It works better than anything else I've tried or heard of, and it works more consistantly across different people.

And I think that, once you take your fears back from It, It'll have a lot tougher of a time in Its fight to break you.


Yet another ungodly hour to post something, but like I said, I had some trouble explaining this concept. I've been working on it on and off all night, but if anything's unclear, state what the problem is and I'll do my best to rectify it.

And in today's What's Happening highlight... so frigging much, due to me being so late about this post.

See Alora and Kay for some interesting bits of news. Especially Kay. If she's right, we could stand to gain a lot of ground. Ava is recovering. Slowly, but recovering. Give her all the support you can, and then give her more, because she needs. it. And Thage... I get it. I do. Doesn't make it suck any less, but I do get it, and did from the beginning. I'll be careful of what I say around you from now on, which was probably your intention, but I don't trust you any less. You're in a horrible position, but you are an ally.

Cathy and Tony pushed a few boundaries in their attempt to see what Cynthia's been writing a while back, with disasterous and somewhat familiar consequences. So that'll probably be what my next post will be about, just give me some time to gather all the data together. Cathy, Tony, you have my appologies for what happened, and I'm glad you're feeling better now. Just... be friggin' careful. Cynthia's up to something.

I also have a few opinions about Morningstar's... "situation"... but I'll keep them to myself.

AmalgamationSage and I got to talking the other day. It was quite enjoyable and very informative. Nice to know I've got a go-to guy, should shit hit the fan. ^_^

Everyone else, keep safe. Now, I seriously need to get some sleep...

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Our Blessing And Our Bane

"Step up, step up.
Try to get through me.
But in the end, you're gonna see
The only way it's supposed to be."

I have a new follower. Can you guess who?

I have to admit, my thoughts on this are mixed.

My first reaction was, Shitshitshit, it's too soon, I didn't want to be discovered yet, it's too soon!

My second reaction was, If you didn't wanna get noticed, what the hell were you doing commenting on every new blog post that came your way?

My third reaction was, I am such an idiot.

That last one seems to be a recurring theme, of late.

The blogsphere is such an interesting and versetile tool for us. On the one hand, writing our thoughts down helps us hold onto both sanity and memory. It allows us to find other victims of Anorexic Associate's asshatery, make friends, even form protective alliances. Lord knows that being able to be honest about this stuff really helps in the sanity department. The kind of pure, open-hearted support found around here is even better. And, more pragmatically, it allows us to observe - and hopefully act upon - some of the larger patterns seen in the behavior of both the Black King and his pawns. What one person discovers, another person can put to good use. And if anyone is in a tight spot, others can easily spring to the rescue, whether it be via moral support in the comment section or an actual, physical rescue.

On the other hand, blogs are also a major instigator of new victims - spreading the disease by spreading the knowledge, as it were. And even beyond this very real concern, it also compromises the safety of the bloggers in question. Think about it: people post details about their locations, situations, physical appearances and emotional weaknesses without even thinking about it. And that's part of the catharsis, it's true. But it's also the internet, where anyone can find you if they're stubborn enough. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but people/former people/things that spend their time patiently stalking people into insanity are probably stubborn by definition. Amirite?

Don't think I haven't wondered if I'll infect anyone myself. Barring the risk to my own safety, it was my biggest concern when I was first debating with myself on starting up my own blog. I have friends, I have family. I have friends whom I only know via the internet, who would know to go looking for me in whatever site they might frequent, including blogging sites. What if they found me here? What if they were hunted down and even killed because of me?

Quoth the Hermit: "Don't think so highly of yourself, asshole."

And that, my friends, is my answer.

You're wasting your time here, Morningstar. I'm nobody. I am so singularly inconsequential that you will be driven sane again from sheer boredom. Though... maybe that's your goal? It could be, I suppose, given your little binary outburst the other day. If so, you're welcome to attempt it. If not, your trollings will be quietly laughed at and then ignored. Or possibly deleted if you get unnecessarily offensive. This goes for any proxies who frequent blogspot, actually.

I have secrets, I have thoughts, and I have advice to give, but you won't find anything worth reading here. Know why? Because although I have the occassional lapse in judgement, I have also mastered the fine art of lying through my teeth. Or my fingertips, as it were. That's the other awesome thing about blogs - the details of events are yours to manipulate as you please, and you can take as long as you like to decide just how much you want your readers to know.

"Truly, to tell lies is not honorable;
but when the truth entails tremendous ruin,
to speak dishonorably is pardonable."

Internet cookies to whoever can name the proponent of that quote. Backspace button, indeed. =P

So yeah. Overall, I'd say blogs are a good thing, when utilized intelligently. They are a double-edged sword, to be sure - our blessing and our bane - but it seems to me, from my limited perspective at least, that they do more good than harm. Not to mention that it apparently takes more than just knowing about Slenderman to attract Its attention. As long as we're careful, we can spread the helpful kind of information without spreading too much of the harmful kind.


Coming up! Fear: Its pros, its cons, and how to make effective use of both.

PS: I got a B+ on my midterm, in case anybody was wondering. I have no idea how I accomplished that, but I feel pretty damn awesome about it, in case you couldn't tell. =D