...All you stupid fuckers walk around astounded and drownin'
Yeah! I'm free! Free once again to breathe the air of the normal world where there are not monsters and crazed beasts around every corner. Here where the monsters are inside the closet and under the bed where they belong. Except for Neil Young, who somehow is still able to walk around freely in public. I've had things less frightening than that try to eat me.
It looks like several of the posts I made while inside the office on Ash Tree Lane didn't go through. And some of those that are there, I don't recall writing. There appear to also be some holes in what's up there, but fuck it, I can't be bothered to figure out what is and is not there. I'm free motherfuckers! Hide your wife, hide your kids!
Okay, maybe just the basics. We got inside the building, Roulette was gonna do whatever he was gonna do with the Book, but Sullivan betrayed us and killed Roulette. As he tried to make off with the Book, his 'associates' the Crimson Templars (or something stupid like that) arrive and we have a big fight, get separated, I get lost inside the place and fun times are had by all. Eventually I meet up again with Cadence and then Arpeggio and Madi. Oh, there was also my little encounter with Legacy and my other little encounter with the Dying Man. Finally we wind up in the lobby and are about to leave, when Legacy stops us. Then Sullivan and his assholes show up. Legacy has the Book with him and Sullivan requests that he return it to them. There was something about requiring the power it holds if they are to resurrect their savior. Sorry bro, but I just can't in good conscience allow you bring about L. Ron's return.
Sullivan pulls out his gun and points it at Legacy, and in response Cadence levels his rifle at Sullivan. Another one of the knights pulls a gun on him; Arpeggio pulls two guns and aims one at the knight and one at red trenchcoat bitch, who I think is the leader of this pretentious Redlight wannabe gang. And so it goes. By the time all is said and done, I myself have no less than three projectile weapons aimed at my person, including what appears to be a grenade launcher, while, having lost my second pistol somewhere along the way, I am left pointing but a single gun at some random mook. I was extremely disappointed that I didn't even get to fire at somebody important, but what can you do? I also, in the middle of the insanity, took notice of the fact that some of the knights were pointing guns at each other. Musta had a falling out. So, there's four of us, Legacy, about a dozen or so motherfuckers, and about thirty guns. We got quite the Mexican standoff goin' on here, is what I'm gettin' at.
Those crazy Mexicans and their silly Australian gunfights.
But as fun as it is just sittin' around and pointing guns at one another, at some point somebody has to actually do something. In this case it wasn't any of us. There's a crack, some black leaves blowing in the breeze and the front doors open wind. In walks this dude, just as natural as if he were entering his own fucking living room, dressed in torn jeans and a black hoodie. He's got the hood pulled up and his head down, so we can't see his face, and he just strolls in, not seeming to take heed of the twenty or so pissed off motherfuckers with firearms only a couple yards off.
The newcomer stops and turns his head toward Legacy, who nods, and then this woman walks in, who is very clearly the Dying Man's new host, what with her missing eye, her sunken-in cheeks, the way the flesh on her face is kind of peeling off, the way her voice sounds like Satchmo. Yeah, blow your horn, Louie. The woman walks over to Legacy and takes the Book from him, the sound of a gun being fired is heard, and that's all it takes for everything to go absolutely batshit. Bullets flying every which way, people going down, me cutting out a dude's throat after he shot me in the left shoulder. Jegus, I got a crate dropped on it, got shot there before, got my arm cut open, got my hand broken... please, for the love of God, if you're going to attack me in the arm, can you please go for the right side? I don't think the left one can sustain much more shit happening to it.
So the smoke clears, some folks are dead, including Legacy it looks like. Of course the little demon twins are somehow perfectly fine, creepy little fucks. Hoodie guy is standing in the middle of the room, a bloodied sword in one hand, the Book in the other. It was at this point that I saw the Operator Symbol on the back of his hoodie. Black hoodie... Operator symbol... shows up in the middle of crazy shit goin' down... Hey, I know who this guy is!
"Hey, motherfucker, I thought you was supposed to be studying and shit. You keep saying that's why you can't update your blog!"
He turns around. "Hey, you try writing up an essay about the existential dynamics of space-time manipulation by extradimensional horroterrors without stealing a tome of eldritch lore or two and see how far you get."
"So how come you ain't dead right now? That's how these incidents usually end, ain't it?"
"That's just silly. If I were dead, I couldn't be waxing my car while fighting Nazis in Brazil?"
"Sorry I don't have time to talk, but I am a very busy man. There are papers to write and dark magick to read up on."
And with that he was gone. Once again, my hospitality is ignored, as another one just leaves without staying to have drinks. What's this world coming to? So with that... encounter finished, I realized hey, who the hell else is still around? We didn't find any knights still breathing, so I collected my peeps and we got the hell out of there. It's really been two fucking weeks since we went in there? What the fuck? I know it felt like we were there forever, but really I figured it couldn't have been more than a week. Stupid fucked up bullshit mindfuckering, asswiping, time-distorting, space-warping, dimensional bleeding structure of corporate whatever, I'm tired of this now.
It's been a long ride, my peeps. A mindfucked motherfucker with teh magick powerz, fucking Wyoming, a teenage girl getting too involved in an internet myth, H.P. Lovecraft's Book of Bedtime Stories, couriers, revenants, cultists, Fears, motherfucking Omega... What the hell? That's all I can say really, just- just, what the hell?
With Legacy and Roulette and most of the rest of the team gone, I guess that means I'm leader now! W00t!! Naw, just fucking with y'all. That shit's boring, and it gets far too political for my tastes. Anyway, we got places to get our asses to right now. Before the higher ups start pissing and moaning about all the shit that's gone down. If they think I'm filling out any goddamn paperwork they obviously haven't been keeping in touch with my insurance agency.
Life is fucking good motherfuckers! Stay frosty ladies and bros. Hopefully we'll have some kind of new job soon and more ridiculous and stupid shit to regale you all with. Because we've all been having a just wonderful time with all that thus far, haven't we?
Yeah, I know you fucking have.