Spotting a Thread

Oh Sweet JESUS christ in heaven this took longer than it needed to. I mean, I know we are not Sherlock Holmes or anything, but one could THINK we could spot the activities of a VERY DANGEROUS SPY IN OUR ORGANIZATION. One of those Highest Trained people. The actual assassiny soldier types. We think this individual defected when Moriarty gave his little announcement. The whole "Proxies who defect now will be safe" thing. This individual did so, with the added bonus of SELLING OUR FUCKING SECRETS TO THE OTHER CULTS AND MORIARTY. My group has been sitting on our asses for the past WEEK, while Nightscream and some weirdos Nightscream called in have been doing the "detective work." You know, since WE are CLEARLY not cut out for it. Should have PUNCHED Nightscream more during the interrogation thing...

Anywho, we have something of a lead. Someone who contacted this individual and purchased information, fairly recently. The bad news is, he is a Rake Cultist. Those guys come in two variants, and this is the stupider of the two. Hippies, Hunters and Native American wannabes. They see Wally Whisperer as a nature God or something. Like a demonic version of Artemis mixed with Demeter. This guy is... Well, we'll get to him once we get to him. We don't know if the individual we are hunting is a blog reader or not.

But I may as well go over events AFTER the whole... Er... Burning of our base of operations. We know who did it, wasn't hard to figure out. It barely slowed us down, and in the long run was a GOOD thing in regards to our interrogation. Given that it is just HER, I am still not particularly worried. No guard dog means she is just a scared girl attempting to lash out. Plus she seems to have Sagey's old mindset in regards to killing. Problem is, she is less fun. Heh. I still might BLEED HER DRY if I see her, but I have changed since we last met. Can't prey upon my sanity issues this time Haku-Chan, AND I have got a team to back me up. You lost your precious doggie, and now you are ALL alone. But no. We won't be hunting you down in retribution. Why would we make you falsely believe you are a big deal. Important. HA. There is no hope left to give the pathetic Runner crowds. LOOK AROUND. There are so few Runners still alive in this blogging community, they might as well be nonexistent. Who are you giving hope to? Konaa? That is the LAST thing he needs. Face it. You are meaningless now. Just another scared girl waiting to be run down in the streets... Or disappearing from your hotel room in the arms of a God.

Also. I sent in a request to get Forgemaster's address. I gotta ask. Forgie. Do you have a fire extinguisher in your house? Sprinkler System? Gotta know if I should repeat the performance. All Good performances bear repeating after all... Don't you think?

Boss is too Angry to Post

Now before any of you fuckwits mention it, we know who burned the warehouse down around us. We aren't blind. We didn't really lose too much important, though it did interrupt something VERY fucking important. Fortunately Nightscream is pretty good at what it does.

The reason we haven't acted on it, is because it was fucking Hakurei Ryuu. About as threatening as one of my balloon animals. I think the boss is in shock, honestly. We kind of forgot she existed. Ah well... To make matters WORSE I think Valtiel showed up last night and talked to someone. Fucking creepy bastard. No one is fessing up to who it was, but that only makes me more fucking nervous... Shit, EVERYTHING is making me a fucking nervous wreck right now... Moriarty Killsquads, a new FUCKING Redlight, Valtiel, AND Runners can simply set our warehouses on fire with NO retaliation. I know I'm kind of old, but I can feel the reaper's shadow on my now more than ever...

Speaking of goddamn Redlight, is anyone as fucking paranoid about him going to quiet like this as I am? Because I am terrified. When he's talking, when he's doing shit in front of your face, it's bad. But at least you can see him. Know what he's doing. No one has seen him or heard from him in weeks. This is not a good sign for anyone. When he reappears... When he fucking unveils his new doomsday plan... I dunno... I just wonder if we'll be casualties.

Eh, but you guys are probably wondering what we've been up to lately. Well if you follow Nightscream, you would know we have... Or rather, had a captured Moriarty Grunt. He didn't want to talk, so we had to get creative. Then the fire. The good news is, we seem to have direction now. We have a new target, but I'm not allowed to say it who, for fear of them reading this blog. By the sound of things though, it looks like we are in for a fight. I deserve a pay raise for how much I get sent into the fire god dammit.

I WILL FUCKING END YOU

WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCK WHO THE FUCK FUCKING SET THE FIRE I WILL KILL YOU YOU STUPID FUCK I WILL KILL YOU DEAD YOU NEARLY FUCKING RUINED A GODDAMN WEEKS WORTH OF CAREFUL PLANNING AND WORK YOU MORONIC PIECE OF COW FECES. I WILL RIP OUT YOUR HEART AND FEED IT TO YOUR CHILDREN, AND THEN FEED THOSE CHILDREN TO A FUCKING ALLEY CAT AND THEN COOKING THE ALLEY CAT AND SERVE IT TO AN ORPHANAGE YOU FUCKING FUCK. 

I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE AND TURN YOUR SKULL INTO A GOBLET TO DRINK THE BLOOD OF LITTLE CHILDREN FROM AND MAKE YOUR RIBCAGE INTO A XYLAPHONE... Xyliphone... Xyelaphone... FUCK IT IT DOESN'T MATTER, I WILL TURN YOUR BLOOD INTO FUCKING PAINT FOR MY NEW WAREHOUSE BASE TO SET THE FUCKING MOOD FOR MY GUESTS AND THEN DIRECT THEM TO THE TORTURE CHAMBER WITH RESTRAINTS FASHIONED FROM YOUR GODDAMN TENDONS AND TEST DUMMY ADORNED WITH YOUR SKIN.

I WILL GRIND YOUR TEETH TO DUST AND MAKE RATS DEVOUR YOUR TONGUE, I WILL SHATTER YOUR LEGS WITH A GODDAMN SLEDGE HAMMER FORGED IN THE BLOOD OF PAST VICTIMS. I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE. I WILL HANG YOUR REMAINS BY YOUR INTESTINES FROM A FUCKING FLAGPOLE YOU WILL SUFFER GODDAMMIT SO HELP ME GOD YOU WILL SUFFER YOU PIECE OF MONKEY SHIT.

Incidentally, who wants to claim responsibility for this, because I have no idea.

My style is impetuous!

Sometimes, you need to sit in a teahouse, and contemplate the mysteries of life.

Other times, you're in a bar sitting across from two men in white suits, and a collection of his fellows at a nearby table, all wearing similar white suits. This was a challenge suitable to my needs.

They call themselves the Ten Fists of the Afterlife, the sacred disciples of Archangel. They were enforcers, cleaning up the messes that sometimes get left behind in their leader's wake. I respect them in many ways. In their pursuit of the Dao, they have achieved a twisted sort of enlightenment. They view Archangel as the perfect representation of the universe. They were wrong of course, for our master truly defines the Dao. He is unknowable, everything that you cannot understand and comprehend, and only by this incomprehensible, unnamed nature does the Dao become manifest.

I approached them as one must approach all situations. With the mind of a beginner. Only with the mind of one who has never encountered something is one able to learn the most from any given situation. So when I laughed with them and discussed the finer points of Judo, an art that, if perfected, can be performed flawlessly in a suit, I did so meekly. They had all made it a point to become experts to suit their peacock-like sense of fashion. I did so as a beginning student who just wanted to "learn from my betters", after all.

I saw the emptiness in their eyes, and knew that in that way the Dao could not be found. Only madness.

Judo was designed as a series of exercises to allow traditional Jiu-jitsu to be used safely in order to familiarize users with practical application of technique. It was never meant to be a fighting form on it's own. They supplemented their Judo with a variety of different styles, but never anything that would make them move in a fashion that would damage their perfect suits.

I had no such restriction on my mobility! So when MY GLORIOUS CRANE ATE UNWARY MINNOW, it took one man's throat. The next came at me with an attempt to use my jacket to help him leverage me into a throw. I had prepared for this, and my jacket tore away. I took the moment to introduce him to WHITE APE PRESENTS BOOK, an attack which took away his two best friends (not the other men in white suits mind you. The ones next to his penis. I am told this is a humorous reference.)

Two down. Eight to go. The remaining Fists charged from their table. Then the bartender pulled a coward's weapon, a sawn-off shotgun from under the bar. I relieved him of it, removed it's ammunition, and threw it out the window. MANTIS HAPPILY PEELED GRAPES, removing another man's eyeballs.

And then I heard the sirens. The police were exactly 5 minutes early. Why did they know to search for me as soon as the fight started?

I escaped through the window.

Two of the Ten Fists of the Afterlife are dead, and one is permanently crippled. That was both far too easy, and far too difficult. This is frustrating.

Paperwork needs to die

Good fuckinng GOD."Morningstar, go kill this runner." "Morningstar, go fill out this paperwork." "Morningstar, go blow up this believed Moriarty Base." "Morningstar go assassinate this traitor." "Morningstar, go pick up my groceries from the store." AAAAAAAARGGGGGHHHHH...

I am overworked and under appreciated. Truly. If it were not for the wonderful toys I get, I would probably just ignore the chain of command like those other guys and just... Kill things. But somedays it really feels like the toys are not worth it. Jesus. I am everyone's errand boy. I could not even participate in the last murder because I was too busy taking FUCKING notes.

Our previous murder was to test out Caesar's group in stealth/infiltration operations. Blood Harvest should probably keep wearing the mask though. Pacemaker refused to change his hairstyle, so points off for that. Other than that, everyone ended up looking almost respectable for our infiltration into... A THEATER. Case codename forty-seven. Though I prefer Operation: Silent Assassin. We had two targets in the theater: A performer and one of the guys in the booths above. Performer was a Runner for certain. He had that nervousness about him.... You could almost SMELL the fear and paranoia... Eyes darting to every shadow, to every face in the crowd looking for the one that is not there. The other guy was a bit of a mystery though. He did not seem very scared, but he did have some security. His dossier was oddly empty.

So, given the performer's role in the play, we decided to do the hilarious (and obvious) trick of switching the prop gun with a real one and letting one of the actors do the work for us. For the Balcony guy... Well, we spotted this BIG ASS chandelier over where he MUST walk if he wants to leave. So naturally we put a small plastic explosive on the Chandelier that would make it fall. Oh Yeah. We moved up from Dynamite. So anyway, I had the detonator and... Well this went surprisingly well on my end. The guy was shot in the fucking head, and the chandelier fell on top of the Balcony guy and his security. So we got the hell out. 

Now, sadly, I cannot really call this a "Silent" Assassination due to the fucking bloodbath backstage because of random people getting in the way. One guy got his throat cut open, which is fine. The guy who had his skull smashed open on a toilet I am NOT OK with. This is not silent assassination, this is sloppy murder. Shitty murder. HAHAHAHA Pun. My worst one yet, YES. Another wonderful example of sloppy is using a fire extinguisher to bash someones skull in. I do approve of using his body as bait for another guy who was then stabbed multiple times in the throat and back by Caesar. Pacemaker is the only one with any sense if you ask me. He is the only one who advocated KNOCKING THE PEOPLE OUT as opposed to straight up leaving a bloody trail to follow. Oh well. At least it was professional. I am happy that we work in teams now, you know? A single person would NEVER have been able to pull that off. I do not care who it is.

Nevertheless, we went home, got our blood money for the contracts and I suspect they blew all the money in a matter of hours. Saw the actor's wife and kids on the TV. It was kind of hilarious really. They told the TV crew that they want the killer to beg for absolution, forgiveness, yadda yadda from God for our foul deed and that God would judge us when our time comes etc etc. Been there done that. I think I might pay them a visit in my off time and show them the wrath of the one true God. Hmmm. Maybe I should start collecting things from victims... Their Skulls? Or something. Hmmm... We'll see I suppose.

Crimson Shroud

A Good day, or evening, to you all. My name is Cloak, employee of everyone's favorite immaculately dressed deity. As my coworker said previously, I have been assigned to the Anti-Moriarty section of our organization. It is a difficult task, obviously, and we have not made much in the way of progress. Gleeman chose me to write up a report due to him being too preoccupied with answering the age old question of whether the human skull or the concrete wall will dent first. Personally I think our dear Mr. Ripper might be a better choice of conducting this test, after all we wouldn't be losing anything valuable and we can accurately guess that concrete would shatter first. But I digress.

We had one lead to speak of during the offensive on the Church. The Police were conspicuously absent. So I infiltrated the local Police Station to see if I could find out why. You would not believe the amount of pretty shiny things laying around these offices, wallets too. Stealing from a Police Station is a challenge for amateur infiltrators, but for one like myself it is child's play. Furthermore they never raise the alarm over it once they find their pockets are a bit lighter. After all, what could more embarrassing than getting robbed in your own police station. It Certainly does not paint the local authority in a competent light to the public, now does it?

I digress, I located the address and phone number of the chief of police. I understand that Mr. Montag was the one who retrieved Chief McPeters and his lovely wife. She had this charming necklace on her as well. Small Diamonds embedded into an ivory Christian Cross. This little detail interested for more reasons than the obvious. It was clearly very expensive, perhaps a little too expensive to purchase on a Police Officer's Salary. So I did a little digging at their home and found the receipt. Lo and Behold, it was a recent purchase. Very recent. I returned to the interrogation chamber with news of my findings, only to be told that Chief McPeters sang like a canary when subjected to Morningstar's rather twisted interrogation methods. Thus, my private investigation was something of a waste of time. Though not entirely, thanks to some rare coins I discovered in an old wooden box. Perhaps Mr. McPeters was a coin collector? Who knows.

Sadly, the Chief McPeters was less help than we had hoped for. He was indeed paid off to ignore the multitude of reports of shots fired at a somewhat remote church. However, he was paid off in person with the old "suitcase full of money" routine. Given that the one who gave him this money was of a decidedly mundane appearance and without any of the quirks we are so used to dealing with, I am afraid we have reached a dead end here. With no other options available, we will continue our investigation into the identity of the sniper known as Trips.

Speaking of Trips... I doubt you recall all of your kills, but did you ever happen to execute a Proxy while using a Machete or something similar and then stick her head on a makeshift spear? Then propping said spear in front of a known Proxy base of operations as a warning? Or do you know any of your coworkers who has done something similar? I would appreciate it very much if you could assist me in this matter. The Proxy would have had raven hair with emerald green eyes. About 5'9" or so. Fought using long knives?

The Screams of your Pain

OK, so the other seem to have FORGOTTEN TO POST. I'll probably tie them to the top of the van for a while as punishment. HeheheheHAHAHAHAHA. Ah. Giddy today. Now to recycle an old tool of mine. THE TO-DO LIST! I Love to-do lists. Always there when you need a quick reminder that you are out MURDERING people when you need to be out stalking and painting meaningless creepy symbols on their walls and windows. A Proxy's work is never done. 

#1. KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL BLEED BLEED KILL KILL BLOOD AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

#2. Buy Groceries and Birdseed

#3. Paperwork

#4. Paperwork for the Paperwork

#5. Banging on target [Redacted]'s Windows until it decides to investigate.

#6. Distract target [Redacted] while Gleeman tears up it's room and writes Gibberish on the walls in the form of codes. This will keep the target distracted for days trying to decipher this OBVIOUSLY meaningful hint that will be the answer to all their problems.

#7. Paperwork for the Paperwork about the Paperwork

#8. Recover Lucky Knife from Little-Miss-Penny-Gadget over there

#9. Deal with that Lunatic with the Spear thing that Tiger uses a fancy name for.

#10. Drain nearby Ichor. Bottle it and then test it on captured Cultists. Or Jack.

#11. Burn down Forgemaster's Apartment & Dump as many cans of Green Giant Canned Vegetables into Green Man's house as possible.

#12. Repeat 11 as necessary.

#13. Buy new Violin.

#13.5 Rig Violin with explosives for no reason.

#14. Look into Personal Issues.

#14.5 Deflect all Questions about Personal Issues.

#15. Piss on Mitch's Grave

#16. Murder Trips and all associated Family. Dress as Mr. Rogers while comitting the murders, as it will make me feel more neighborly.

#17. Purchase X-Box 360.

#18. Find new Runners to Troll.

#19. Troll said Runners.

#20. Piss on All of Robert Sagel's Graves.

#21. Piss on Zeke Strahm's Grave.

#22. Piss on M. Or M's Grave. 

#23. Purchase Clockwork Orange Looking Uniforms for future use. 

#24. Confirm Uwe Boll's position as High Priest of the German Archangel Cult (Can we get a confirmation that it does not have a flashier name?)

Naturally everything on the list is subject to change or being moved to accommodate new more pressing matters.

Now, on to doing what the others SHOULD have been doing. A report on Caesar's Attack on a Paranoid Veteran Runner of about four months. This man, Earl Richards, was a resourceful Rednecky type with access to lots of ammo and lots of traps put into his tiny log cabin located in the middle of some woods. Caesar would have been smart to sneak up to the house and set it on fire or something. So of course, Caesar being Caesar, he marched his men and toys onto a hill top and blew a goddamn trumpet. I was watching this from a safe distance near the escape Van. 

Caesar proclaimed: "In the name of Kai-Zar, descendant of Venus and her husband the Mighty Saturn (His name for Father, I think even though there is so much shit wrong with that Mythologically I... Oh nevermind.) we lay claim to the lands and all who inhabit them. All profligates (?) are to surrender their homes, their food, their coin and their blood in tribute to my holy name."

He was answered with the sound of a Shotgun firing in his general direction.

Caesar: "... SO BE IT! LEGIONARIES. ADVANCE."

Fortunately, Pacemaker was there to clarify. 

Pace: "That means you guys. I'll, uh... Flank him."

So they charged the man with the shotgun and our friendly neighborhood plumber revealed he has not ONE specially modified plunger of death, but TWO. This one being a makeshift Grenade Launcher. The Cabin's Porch was decimated, and our dear Mr. Richards fled inside his basement. We did not know that at the time though. The Brave Sir Mordred tripped en route to the Cabin and Blood Harvest was forced to double back and pick the overgrown trash can up. Leaving Yellowbeard to be the first to enter the house. He ended up springing one of THREE goddamn Gun-Behind-the-Door traps and was wounded in the arm. Being drunk as hell, it didn't seem to bother him until AFTER we got him to the hospital. 

Despite the delay, Blood Harvest was the first to find the basement door and he slowly entered. I admire the theatrics he used. The Slow Creaking door opening, his scythe blade being the first thing to enter. Slowly marching down the stair case. Combined with his "Horror Movie Slasher" look it was rather impressive. There was one obvious flaw. It gave Mr. Richards enough time to escape through the outside Cellar door, though why he didn't just SHOOT Blood Harvest, I will never know. 

Why will I not ever know? Because, to my great pleasure, Pacemaker was waiting outside the Cellar exit with a Pistol and a Smile. He said something, no doubt some Elvis inspired one-liner, and shot Mr. Richards, who tumbled down the stairs right in front of Blood Harvest. Mr. Richards had a short life you know. Before meeting Father, I wonder what his goals were? What his dreams and aspirations were? Was he particularly good at anything? Math? Science? Chemistry? Could he have become someone truly great and worth looking up to? In the end, I suppose it does not matter. He ended up half the man he could have been in more ways than one.

As for my team? I am proud of them. They worked fairly well together, with the exception of Mordred. Next time, perhaps I will personally accompany them to the next murder. I do so look forward to it. But for now, I have other matters to attend to. Mostly Paperwork, sadly. But this mountain of dead trees will not serve as my ball and chain for long, I promise. Soon I will be out there causing mayhem and destruction. Misery and Death. I am practically drooling at the thought of my next big kill.

The Joy of Random Murder

I finally got a day off from the more boring parts of Proxydom. Wanna guess what I did during my day off? Do ya? Do ya huh? Come on Guess. It should be obvious...

...

....

I BAKED COOKIES AND DROPPED THEM OFF AT THE HOMELESS SHELTER!

Naturally the cookies are laced with a little present that makes me feel SUCH warm fuzzies inside to think about. I might stop back by in a couple days and... See how they are doing. Should be a lot of fun. Maybe I should take pictures, video... Preserve it for all time and future viewings so I can recapture these feelings at any time. Ah...

I also pulled a guy into an alley and disemboweled him. Lot of fun, and if the organs are preserved right, we now have decorations for Christmas this year. Not to mention what a FINE steak he will make. Meat looked so tender. Not too tough and not much fat either. I have personally found though that college age caucasian women that are around... Oh... 160 lbs or so, taste the best. Something about the flesh just tastes so much more... Pleasant. 

Father's Whispers have finally begun coming back. I have not heard his voice since immediately after I reawakened. I assume something about Redlight's resurrection thingy must have caused some disconnection there. I feel much better now though. Less lonely you know? It is comforting to hear his music echoing through my head.

Might as well mention a few things we have going on. First we will start with the new Team's Missions.

Gleeman, the loveable tubby bastard, is leading the section of my team devoted to the location and destruction of Moriarty Agents. Joining him are Jack the Ripper, Cloak, Mumbles and Montag. Funny thing about Mumbles though. He does not talk AT ALL. By choice clearly, but I even tried jumping out and scaring him to try and get a scream or yelp. Nothing. Not even a flinch. He seems like a goddamn robot. Oh well. Once we inevitably come across my darling Sagey again, Mumbles will ensure our swift victory. I think I'm going to send Forgie a card though. I know I missed the anniversary of his house being torched, but it's the thought that counts right? Wait I am getting sidetracked... Right. So. They are the ones who are going to hunt down any Moriarty Connections. We are putting SPECIAL emphasis on locating "Trips" or perhaps "Tripses Family." Or anything to do with him really. Ex-Military? Ex-PTC? Ex-Cop? He is probably something, but if not... It's only a matter of time. He killed one of Screamer's friends, so I am going to kill his family and eat him alive. Well... Maybe I will cook him a bit first. Start with the Fingers, move on to an arm or a leg... But I digress.

Caesar (Pronounced "Kai Zar" evidentally, as he threw a harpoon at my head and demanded his action figures execute me when I said it as "See Ser") is leading the Anti-Runner section of the Team. Consisting of Pacemaker, Blood Harvest, The Plumber, Mordred and Yellowbeard. In fact, they are all away currently on a mission right now! I will have one of them post it tomorrow or something.

Lastly, we have Crouching Tiger, Brown Recluse, Fairy and Scrambler on our... Anti-Cult watch. Not going to lie guys. Our organization has a LOT of enemies. I am sure most of you read up on Screamer's little adventure with the Oathbreakers. The Plague Doctor's Cultists. Now thanks to that offensive, we have knocked them off balance, but nature abhors a vacuum, so we also have to watch out for the Children of the Cold and the Dolls... Er... Whatever the fuck they are called. The Wooden Bitch's Cult. I knew of some guys that pitted the Dolls up against the Maenads and caused them to wipe each other out. Tons of fun. One of those guys reminds me of me in a lot of ways. Except I dress better. There is nothing more stylish than a Fedora. NOTHING. 

So Yeah. Everyone is nice and busy... Nightscream is in and out, doing shit I am not allowed to talk about. And I had a wonderfully relaxing day. Back to work tomorrow though...  Probably need to take more time out to write these posts do I not? Hmm.

Fuck it, I still have some time. TIME TO PULL ANOTHER PEDESTRIAN OFF THE STREET! I am hungry.