You can get these little Pizzas for £1 at Pizzagogo! It's the best thing EVER! I havent had pizza for fucking months! So fucking good!
This calls for a song!
30/04/2013
Craft popped up again
Craft popped up again on Sanna's blog and Kelevtov's internet word salad (warning: Tvtropes link. Follow at your own peril). Sorry about that, Sanna. Kinda feel like it's my fault. That pissant is going to get his. I mean, when he first popped up, I was kinda scared (read:Scared shitless). I mean, I'd thought he was dead. I'd thought I'd killed him. And that ate me up inside. But you know what? I'm over that now. So if you're reading this, Craft, consider this a warning. You want to threaten me? fine. But If you try the same shit as before, if you threaten my friends, then I'll destroy you. I will beat you with a tire iron and burn whatever's left. Because you aren't a big, impressive proxy. You're a nerd who went too far into the occult and went crazy. and you won't be back again. bitch.
29/04/2013
Need help
Looking over that blog post, I think it's clear I need help. For whatever reason, I know far too much about the fears, and I just want to kill everything. Well, Craft, Snowblind and Kelevra. And quite frankly the fact that I was preparing to fight them, the fact that I wanted to kill them frightens me. I think that slendy finally got into my head. And I can't have that, can I? So if anyone has any idea about how to deal with this, please help. Because otherwise I think I'll end up dead, one way or the other. Or worse, end up as a proxy and not die.
Spot of luck (possibly)
So as you may know, I've been losing an alarming amount of time. Well, from that I've managed to find a decent place to hang around for a bit, plan my next move. Because if Craft is alive, I need to find him, and kill him. Properly this time. put his victims to rest.
So I found this warehouse, which seems easy enough to keep secure. And it's full of interesting and useful things; seems it was used to store tools, so I found myself an axe. So the next step is to track down Craft (I put out some feelers, but I don't have much to go on) and bury him for good. Not sure how I'm gonna manage it, will need element of surprise so won't post anything until I've acted on it. May need to make a deal or something; Slendy keeps him too strong. Maybe lucky; Dying man may step in. That how he survived; the liar? Don't know much about Fears other than slendy; The less you know the safer you are. Jack of all Trades; could I get his help? Would it be worth it? yes.
Rake & Slendy possible territory war; Chance of help. THe Feral ONe. May be worth looking into that. Too many possibilities, not enough options. not sure how to get contact. Door? seems benevolent. possibility. But runs in families; would've stopped craft before now if my family was important. Wrong time, Wrong place, Wrong person. My fault.
So I found this warehouse, which seems easy enough to keep secure. And it's full of interesting and useful things; seems it was used to store tools, so I found myself an axe. So the next step is to track down Craft (I put out some feelers, but I don't have much to go on) and bury him for good. Not sure how I'm gonna manage it, will need element of surprise so won't post anything until I've acted on it. May need to make a deal or something; Slendy keeps him too strong. Maybe lucky; Dying man may step in. That how he survived; the liar? Don't know much about Fears other than slendy; The less you know the safer you are. Jack of all Trades; could I get his help? Would it be worth it? yes.
Rake & Slendy possible territory war; Chance of help. THe Feral ONe. May be worth looking into that. Too many possibilities, not enough options. not sure how to get contact. Door? seems benevolent. possibility. But runs in families; would've stopped craft before now if my family was important. Wrong time, Wrong place, Wrong person. My fault.
27/04/2013
Funny internet videos
last post was really fucking depressing. So here's some funny shit from the internet. Best with LSD.
26/04/2013
How I got stalked
Kyle asked how I first got involved with this, and I figured I might as well put it up here. It's practically guaranteed not to get read by anyone I don't trust, anyway
One of my friends, let's call him 'Dave', was a huge geek; looking up everything occult on the internet. He introduced me to Lovecraft, actually. One day, he comes to me and says he's found out something important about the lovecraft mythos, to meet at a forest. I was going to go, but real life intervened. I'm still not sure if that was a good or bad thing. When I tried to call to let him know, I couldn't get through, which was odd, because I was trying to reach his home phone. Since then, we didn't talk much; he started breaking off social ties, broke up with his girlfriend, started missing school. withdrew into himself. I think his parents blamed me; they kept saying I should do something, eventually stopped returning my calls.
I figured he wasn't going to screw anything up too bad; while it never got as bad as this, Dave was a pretty obsessive person, and he'd withdrawn before when something caught his eye. I figured it's end with a worryingly large expenditure on black candles, and he'd just be back to normal. I closed my eyes to it, tried to trust in him to snap out of it and come back, trusted that everything would be normal again.
He never did snap out of it. He stopped coming to school outright, spent long periods away from home, at the woods where he'd tried to meet me before. I think social services were looking into it. Then one night, I get a notepad in my room. Window's closed, doors locked, and there's this notepad on my bedside table, covered in drawings and writing, numbers and letters and symbols in pen, pencil, paint, blood, shit; everything he could lay hands on. It started semi-legible, talking about how he's found this new German mythos, with actual evidence behind it. How he found a way to call to an entity, how he'll see the truth of the universe. Most of the rest was illegible, smudged lines crossing over each other and random strings of numbers. probably a code or something. It ended with a semi-lucid note, saying how he has to go, how he'll be back for me, show me how blind I've been to the universe. I thought he was going to do something stupid, get himself killed, and he was still my friend. I left straight away, didn't even wake my parents. I don't know what I was thinking, but I remember running all the way there, must've been a few miles at least. I get there, and there's no light at all. So I'm stumbling through this wood at 3 in the morning, blind as a bat, when everything changes and I look into the shy and theres no moon, no stars. Completely alien. I think it might've been a less lethal part of the path, or something similar, because I knew those woods pretty damn well (raised there) and that sure as shit wasn't them. Anyway, I came to this clearing, and there he was, speaking to thin air. It wasn't english. And there he was. The Knave. The Prince. Nyarlonathotep. Whatever. and he was just standing there but I could tell he was looking at me, with no eyes bus still boring into me, seeing all my secrets and shame. I stood there. And he reaches out towards Dave with this arm, like a tree branch, growing, stretching, and then they're both gone. And Dave was dead, and there's this insane bastard swanning about in his skin.
I didn't realise it at first; chalked it up to a nightmare and sleepwalking. It was ridiculous, but I had to believe in something. I chose ignorance. But then I find out Dave' run away from home, and I find this notebook, and think there's something up. Do some digging. Find out too much. Dave comes for me with a knife, calls himself Fear, and kills. My parents. His Ex. My fucking pet cat. He just kills everyone and everything and I'm left running. Then one day he catches up to me. But I'm never going to go into what happened then.
*Edit* I guess the cat's out of the bag. I changed the names to remove traceability (I still know some people from where I was raised who're alive) but I need information pronto. He was Sean Thompson. He called himself Craft. I thought I'd killed him 16:23 January 5th 2013.
One of my friends, let's call him 'Dave', was a huge geek; looking up everything occult on the internet. He introduced me to Lovecraft, actually. One day, he comes to me and says he's found out something important about the lovecraft mythos, to meet at a forest. I was going to go, but real life intervened. I'm still not sure if that was a good or bad thing. When I tried to call to let him know, I couldn't get through, which was odd, because I was trying to reach his home phone. Since then, we didn't talk much; he started breaking off social ties, broke up with his girlfriend, started missing school. withdrew into himself. I think his parents blamed me; they kept saying I should do something, eventually stopped returning my calls.
I figured he wasn't going to screw anything up too bad; while it never got as bad as this, Dave was a pretty obsessive person, and he'd withdrawn before when something caught his eye. I figured it's end with a worryingly large expenditure on black candles, and he'd just be back to normal. I closed my eyes to it, tried to trust in him to snap out of it and come back, trusted that everything would be normal again.
He never did snap out of it. He stopped coming to school outright, spent long periods away from home, at the woods where he'd tried to meet me before. I think social services were looking into it. Then one night, I get a notepad in my room. Window's closed, doors locked, and there's this notepad on my bedside table, covered in drawings and writing, numbers and letters and symbols in pen, pencil, paint, blood, shit; everything he could lay hands on. It started semi-legible, talking about how he's found this new German mythos, with actual evidence behind it. How he found a way to call to an entity, how he'll see the truth of the universe. Most of the rest was illegible, smudged lines crossing over each other and random strings of numbers. probably a code or something. It ended with a semi-lucid note, saying how he has to go, how he'll be back for me, show me how blind I've been to the universe. I thought he was going to do something stupid, get himself killed, and he was still my friend. I left straight away, didn't even wake my parents. I don't know what I was thinking, but I remember running all the way there, must've been a few miles at least. I get there, and there's no light at all. So I'm stumbling through this wood at 3 in the morning, blind as a bat, when everything changes and I look into the shy and theres no moon, no stars. Completely alien. I think it might've been a less lethal part of the path, or something similar, because I knew those woods pretty damn well (raised there) and that sure as shit wasn't them. Anyway, I came to this clearing, and there he was, speaking to thin air. It wasn't english. And there he was. The Knave. The Prince. Nyarlonathotep. Whatever. and he was just standing there but I could tell he was looking at me, with no eyes bus still boring into me, seeing all my secrets and shame. I stood there. And he reaches out towards Dave with this arm, like a tree branch, growing, stretching, and then they're both gone. And Dave was dead, and there's this insane bastard swanning about in his skin.
I didn't realise it at first; chalked it up to a nightmare and sleepwalking. It was ridiculous, but I had to believe in something. I chose ignorance. But then I find out Dave' run away from home, and I find this notebook, and think there's something up. Do some digging. Find out too much. Dave comes for me with a knife, calls himself Fear, and kills. My parents. His Ex. My fucking pet cat. He just kills everyone and everything and I'm left running. Then one day he catches up to me. But I'm never going to go into what happened then.
*Edit* I guess the cat's out of the bag. I changed the names to remove traceability (I still know some people from where I was raised who're alive) but I need information pronto. He was Sean Thompson. He called himself Craft. I thought I'd killed him 16:23 January 5th 2013.
25/04/2013
Alexandria October 1998
After Sanna's daddy issues on her blog, I've decided to weigh in with some non-psychotic help and advice that isn't pulling her up for shit she's got under control. . Specifically, the Toronto Star did an article on it 19th October 1998. Might be worthwhile seeing if you can track down a copy (Kyle, I think you're most likely to have success there, depending on geography. See if Virgil can put some feelers out.), find out about who wrote it, find their source. The train was run by the ERA, and Egyptian government organization, as far as I know. The brakes may have been sabotaged, or the driver failed. Either way, they went into a market just south of Alexandria. Can't find a breakdown of deaths from it, implies it's no-one 'important', but that doesn't show much; Proxies and runners stay out of the spotlight. Not much runner/ proxy activity in Egypt, past or present, as far as I know, other than appearance in hieroglyphs in pharaohs tombs; thief of the gods/ thief of kuk (kuk means darkness, an ancient Egyptian deification of it anyway. Interesting.) . Possible political instability prevents proper investigation/reporting. Anyone with the resources should prolly check that out. could be a bunch of people out there who're cut off from the rest of us. Rosewater foundation presumably has resources, Strider has Path. Either way.
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