Sanna's gone

Theres a problem.

Sanna's been taken. I was out making an information drop, and it looks like someone came in. There was a fight. She's fucking gone, and the only real leads are the twin triangles ande a fucking smiley face drawn on the wall. In blood.

No sign of a breakin. Might've been someone she knew and trusted, someone using a domain, I don't fucking know.
Any information on the timberwolves, archangel would be good. Or Costeau, whoever the fuck that is. Kelevraq, morningstar. Anyone who couldve done it. I probably won't be able to reply for a while, got some digging opf my own to do, but anything would help. Quite frankly, could be someone already dead. The fucking archangel. Takes on their faces.


Guess I should explain last post. Even if I don't remember all of it.

The Archangel was there. Right outside the safehouse. I think he might have been there before, but I convinced myself otherwise. Makes no difference; it isn't a being you can run from, fight against. Hide from.
It got into my head, I think. I wasn't entirely lucid. So afraid. I didn't want to be taken, but I had no choice but to leave again. Left a message, and the blog post. There was a light. Saw my Father. Memories I wish could stay buried, wish he hadn't died. I miss them all so much.

I din't know how long I was out for. Woke up in an alleyway with the Triangles on the wall. What can you do against death himself?


Introspection (warning; navel gazing)

As most of you, being readers of this blog, will know, I'm not by any definition a proxy. I have no loyalty to the slenderman, I don't do his dirty work, I don't worship him. Hell, half the time I don't capitalise his name. And yet if anyone asked who I was, I'd say 'I'm a proxy' in a heartbeat. Not even thinking about it. It's just who I am. I am a proxy. Figured getting this down in writing would help me to think things through, so, you know. Caveat Emptor, this is gonna be a pretty self-obsessed post.

I think a key part of this identity comes from my time as a runner. Before I was involved in this, when I had a family, it didn't really affect me as much, as a person. Not that it wasn't a major part of my life, but it didn't mold me, I think. There was no real hardship, so I came out of it an idealist, without any real idea of what I was doing. A scared child. So that hasn't changed.

But as a runner, there was change, external pressures, that kinda thing. I had to learn to hide, keep guarded. I guess that was when I really learned to kill, me, not Craft.

But even with those lessons, I was a pretty shit runner. What did I achieve? What was my purpose? That's an important question, for me. I need a purpose, a reason to keep going, an end goal, or there's just stagnation. It doesn't really go well. I needed a purpose, so I manufactured one, through this blog, by trying to find a way to fight back. The magnets weren't a defensive measure, they were made to hurt people. Never did get the hang of defending without an attack. guess I'm just a violent person.

Anyway, it didn't work. Some, maybe most, people reject azoth. That shit that gets inside your head and warps you. I'm not one of those people. It built up, and when an attack came, I couldn't defend myself or fight back.I was left without the magnets I'd used to confound the Azoth, far from anywhere I'd called home. I think I was delirious, a bit. I don't really remember. I think I met a runner, maybe I put it on the blog. I was pretty out of it. She saw me for who I was, saw me for a proxy. Nearly killed me, would've if Jeff and Aleph hadn't shown up.

They were there for me. The first people since my family, I think. Really there for me. What decision was that? Mistrust, and eventual insanity? Or somewhere where I belonged. Somewhere I fit. So then I was a proxy. Damn good one. Not for the Slenderman, out of loyalty to those who took me in when I needed it. Maybe it was a ruse, to gain my trust so that I could be molded. Suppose it worked beautifully. I think that's where I became me, as I stand today. Missing a few scars, but the core was there. Even then, when I felt I had found my place, I can't say there was any loyalty to the slenderman. Defective batch of azoth or something. and boy, does it dislike that term.

That was when I took the name. Lovett. It seemed to fit, I think. it was the eye of the storm. Something stable when it'd all gone away. But it didn't last. Where I was, it was a training facility, of sorts. Experimentation, as well. Voluntary, of course. But pretty soon, the training and the tests both had run their course, and they sent me out. Jeff too. And Grace, she'd gone with Jeff, for some final training. She'd wanted to be a medic. Became a medic, a fucking fantastic one. Shame Jeff couldn't have lived to see it. Put his faith in a bad leader.

Still don't really know if I made a good leader. Mostly other people, acting through me. Jeff. Grace. Caligori. But I did well, right? Fought tooth and nail, garnered support, even from the timberwolves. Took London. Maybe if I hadn't faltered, that would still be where I was. But I couldn't follow through, so here I am. Still a proxy. Slendy took a lot, but he can't take that. It's all I'm good for.