Shit, motherfucking hell...
Saturday... Saturday Saturday Saturday. Saturn's Day. The Sabbath. The seventh day of the week.
There were some events that transpired that day. Wherever shall I begin? Well I suppose the logical course of action would be to begin chronicling from where I left off the last time. By last time, I mean of course when I was actually writing shit that was coherent, and not when I was doing this. Also who the fuck wrote that? Come on, fess up motherfuckers.
Well anyhow, Legacy and his merry band of super-assholes launched an invasion of Crusader's secret grocery store compound. It actually went fairly simple; the assholes had already attempted to destroy the Book. I'm sure ya'll remember how well that's gone before. Two more of their dudes killed, which left them with but four to defend their sacred food mart and the tome of satanic literature that was hidden away at its core. Legacy was not playing games with those motherfuckers this time though, and they went down, though sadly without any casualties. Apparently they decided that it wasn't worth having their whole little team here wiped out over Abdul Alhazred's Book of Bedtime Stories. Also apparently, they decided it would make much more sense to just let the enemy get inside and then bomb them into oblivion. Seems something went wrong there though, since only half of them went off and only the ones that weren't on the same side of the building as Legacy's team. Suspiciously lucky, huh?
So there at least we got some manner of a break. The rest of the day... was much more eventful. For instance: that last post? Pretty sure I made that sometime in the midst of Master and Puppetslut tearing up the place. Legacy arrives back and tells us to start packing shit up quick so we can start moving out. So we's all in the middle of doing that when Roulette calls out something to Legacy, which is followed by him crashing through the door. This blonde chick walks in and points a gun at all of us, not that it was really necessary when her boss came in right behind her. The reject from Rozen's workshop just comes in all nonchalantly like she fucking owns the place, and her strings shoot out towards us... but she didn't have much of a chance to do anything 'cause the Boss showed up then and shit. got. crazy.
Needless to say, that safehouse is history, and we lost quite a bit of our stuff, but most of it was Legacy's so we're lucky that it was no great loss. We actually all made it out alright this time, all uh... ten of us. Amazing that we had almost twenty people at the start of this shit. I mean really, Master and the puppet were tearing shit up in there. We also had a minor skirmish with the Wooden Girl's servant, who I mentioned back there. Roulette had been knocked out after his trip through the door, and I ended up having to help carry the asshole out of there. The blonde chick comes out of nowhere and attacks us, actually I got the feeling she wanted me specifically, I got another nice scar all down my arm now because of her. Sullivan politely got the bitch away from me with a swift blow to the jaw and we continued dragging our comatose comrade off the battlefield.
That's sort of it, I guess. We moved to a new hideout, we be unpacking shit and shit is good so far. Not that ever lasts. I mentioned several of 'em here, so I may as well tell y'all about some of the team, I guess. I need something to do while I'm hiding out and avoiding helping with the unpacking. So besides myself, Madi, and Legacy, our ragtag group of crazy ass motherfuckers consists of:
Legacy: Well, alright I guess I'll start with him. He's a revenant and a jackass. From Angleland, I believe, though he's got the accent of a Hollywood actor who's trying too hard to sound British. Was a butcher before signing on with the Tall Guy. He doesn't do a lot different in his new line of work, lemme tell ya. He's still under the impression that he's some kind of immortal with superpowers who's been fighting the Slender fight for many decades. Actually, it's only been since about last year y'know, but I guess it's not entirely useless, since Slendy does let him get away with some crazy shit. Sometimes. Other times he just bleeds all over my freshly laundered jacket and doesn't notice it. Then again, that could also have been from him cutting off my finger. No, I'm totally not still pissed about that, why do you ask?
Cadence & Arpeggio: The other revenants I mentioned. They're twins, both snipers, and both creepy as fuck. Did I mention they're also about fourteen? Emotionless, weird ass fourteen year olds. Kinda like this, if she had a male twin and they were both expert marksmen and thought they were pretty much invincible. And real fourteen year olds aren't that sexy. I really don't know much else about them.
Sullivan: You'd think he might be the sane one in the group, I mean Sullivan's a pretty normal name, right? That's before you find out that he used to have two partners who were named Carson and... Lawrence. To be fair, I guess Welk doesn't have the same ring to it, but really if you're going to bother to come up with stupid theme naming you should bother doing it right. That said, he's really not all that bad, but he does sort of weird me out. He's rather nonviolent really, which is a bit unusual considering how all the rest of his team are.
Roulette: The actual Only Sane Man in the group, despite still having a shitty superhero-y name. The man brews a mean cup of tea and can also fix up some nice poisons to go in it. Worked as something of an assassin until about '07 when one of his targets ran into a bit of a gruesome "accident" and he got discovered. The real killer thought the guy had some Skittles though, and our boy Roulette wisely decided to hop across to the Slender side of the rainbow. I did wonder why he called himself Roulette when that doesn't really have anything to do with poison. I'll have to look into that...
Death's Head: Honestly, when a dude calls hisself Death's Head, I think they've told about all you need to know about 'em. Well, except that this one's a chick, not a dude. And she almost took my head off when I tried to talk to her. Just so we clear, I mean that quite literally. I still can't figure out where she was keeping that giant knife in that tight outfit...
No-Name: No-Name? Really? Fuck this. He's a depressing bastard. Let's just leave this with saying that Legacy has impeccable taste when it comes to choosing a team.
Oh fuck, they're looking for me now. Guess I'll have to go do "work." This is why we should have some of the mindless slaves along, so us important folk don't have to do menial labor. Oh shity483yre7ghgnbbbbbbbbbb,
Motherfuckers. Stay frosty.