Wednesday, June 26, 2013


Yellow Eyes. Yellow. Black Mouth. Black Innards. Self sewing back together. Little Strings of black stitching. Finer than any silk. The Head is reattached. The burns are disappearing. Even as water pours out of the wounds we... I inflicted. He is a walking corpse. He is Azoth. They are Azoth. Azoth is so much more than I could have possibly imagined.

They are in darkness, under moonlight and stars. Black Coats and white knives beckoning me forward. Soon now, so soon. The chattering of the things inside them, pulling strings. Guided by the Violet Light. Just go with them. We must just go with them and see the end of this. I'm tired. I quit. Why even bother anymore? Why? Why do we all resist.

Safety in death. Purpose in death. Mind. Sound. Silence. Quiet. The Brute in the Quiet shall feed. It. He. Father they called it. Maybe mine now?

The Red. The King. The Piper. The Jester. The Queen. The Gardener. The Fire Witch. The Pattern Juggler. The Keeper of the City's Keys. Lock. Key. Opening Eden. Swallowed by Silence. Power of a Dead God. Godhood.

It makes so much more sense now. I saw behind the curtain without context but now... Now I see. Dancing Lights beneath Gods. Above Quiet. The Valet of God. The Attendants of God. Brilliant flashes of beautiful, horrible lights of every color and more. They are eyes, ears, life and soul. But without a vessel, impotent. He is a vessel. That is why. The Yellow Eyes. Amber in the sunlight. Father of Monsters, not of blood, but of spirit. They do not know death. They write the laws we all obey, and thus are not bound by them. They rewrite them when it suits them. Yes...

It makes so much more sense now.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Waste of Time

Useless. Wasted trip. There was absolutely nothing to be found in Uriel's shop and even less in the nearby buildings. Except, you know. It.

You know... You know I think something is a bit wrong with me lately. I screamed at It when I saw It just standing there and he... Just watched me. I know... I know he watches everyone like this but... Usually there is not something ELSE going on in the background that he is a part of. Furthermore it... It isn't staring with a hunter's stare. A hunter admires his quarry to a degree. Respects them in a way. This isn't like that... No. This is... Like a Person with a pet. Oh Look master I run, jump and hide and beck and call. I even play with the other pets from time to time. Did you enjoy me barking all sorts of sounds at you master? I know you did.

I shouldn't have though. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. For this complete and utter madness that is. Roland tells me that nothing is wrong with me, that I am not acting out of the ordinary but I swear, I swear I am less... Focused. I think? I don't know anymore. I just... I know something is not right with me. I can prove it. I simply have to look back at the older stuff on this blog and I can see the change. Pointless to ask what caused it. So much has happened. So little EXPLAINED. Questions, questions and vague worthless excuses for answers from CLOWNS and PSYCHOPATHS.

And I know it is becoming more apparent to others. Despite what Roland keeps telling me. I am not fine... He tells me it's stress but it is more than that. We ate at a diner yesterday and people kept giving me odd looks. I thought we might have been in a Proxy town or something, but no. No they were just people. People looking at me. It's funny when you think about it... I remember their eyes watching me but... The rest of their features are blurred and formless. Reminds me of It. Maybe It does have a face, maybe it did... But what we are seeing is a living memory of some faceless stranger in a crowd. Which is all It is really. It is every faceless stranger we've never met. Every scheming, wretched individual hiding behind those formless faces in the depths of memory.

You know maybe that is what Proxies are for... Does It Itself know It exists? Is it aware of Itself? Or is it merely aware that we are aware? If so, what would happen if no one was aware it existed? Would it simply cease to be? But how can something cease to be? It has to go somewhere. It came from somewhere, but where? No. It was always here wasn't it?

Someone speculated this before of course. They received no concrete answer, because no one knows. No one can answer. Not even It. Stupid pointless speculation, how does it live? Does it even have a concept of death. Does it know what that is? It comprehends yes. It comprehends so much but it... It doesn't comprehend in the same ways we do. Maybe it can't.

Where do the Others fit in? The Doctor, the Rake, the Archangel. Nearly Two Dozen, nearly more. Smoke and heat in an empty void, locked in the dreams of a dead city. A Garden and it's Keeper. Mirrors mark the path in the belly of the Mother of Serpents. Water devouring Soma flows through the veins. Knowledge from the Blank Pages of a black, endless library.

Something hungry deep inside. I need it. Ever hungry. Ambrosia. Parched of thirst. Soma will quench it. The Violet and Yellow lights clash with one of deep Red, flecked with Amber. They speak in darkness, under moonlit skies.

The people in that diner saw something was wrong. I know they are right, but I don't know how to fix it, or how bad it is. Roland is the only thing I have to keep track of my mindset, outside of this blog. Useful. He has become very useful. Strange for someone so moronic.

We're going to have to continue driving. I think I'll go back home and see what happens. Nothing better to do. Best to be somewhere familiar, I think. How is everyone else?

Sunday, June 16, 2013


We arrived today at our destination. I will not give a more precise location than Virginia. Roland tells me this is his hometown, which makes sense. We have followed the return address on Morningstar's package here, and that package was sent by Yuri Polzin. Uriel. And Uriel was the one who sent Roland to me... For whatever reason.

We located the building the return address indicates. A recently closed down old Fortune Teller's Shop. The building is connected to a larger more warehouse like building. I am willing to bet that is where Uriel is. Now thus far, we have scouted the area around it, and no sign of any Pale Men or particularly suspicious people. This likely means they are good actors, sneaking around disguised as ordinary people. Psychopaths like Morningstar, dressed up all nicely to hide what they truly are.

We intend to enter it about an hour before this goes up, so expect an update tomorrow if we make it. Hopefully we will have captured Uriel... Now, he appears to be one of those Strange High Level Proxies. They tend to be able to do unusual things according to most accounts. Electricity has worked in the past on It, so I am willing to bet it will work on Uriel... Maybe the jolt will keep him from Pathing Out.

Suppose I should discuss my little talk with the Purple Piper. I gathered this much, he used to be a servant of one of those Things that I have seen be nicknamed "The Rake." Now he is worshiper of his "King" who Med fingered as possibly being a proxy named Redlight. Given the fact the "Court" of this King was adorned in crimson, and the fact Piper mentioned "our blood soaked colors" and that his King "took the crimson mantle up," this makes a lot of sense. More on that in a bit.

The most important bit I got out of his dramatic monologues was what he seemed to indicate my role in all this is. At least for his group's plan. Evidently the King is not as powerful as those Creatures, but knows of a way to even the playing field. Then he said something about a Fire Witch and said I was part of some plan for the King to bring himself to those Creatures level. Obviously I am still missing something as this does not explain why It and It's servants have not killed me to derail this plan. I would assume the Oathbreakers might be in it for the same reason as Piper's Group. Power of some sort.

As for this Redlight proxy, I found it difficult to learn much about his original appearance due to that blog's deletion and resurrection and deletion again and replacement of the writer with a new one. Various other accounts exist of him and from him, however, including a very brief appearance in Morningstar's own blog. Then he died, it seems. Of course nature abhors a power vacuum, like would have been caused by Redlight's demise, and so a new one showed up. New Redlight kept busy for a while, but dropped off the grid for a little while outside of some very select places.

Based on everything I have learned... I really hope he has absolutely nothing to do with this situation. In fact, I don't actually think he does. Look at the evidence. Every other plot he has been involved, he has been very, very open about who he is, and his involvement. This would be extremely out of character I think. Unless that's the point, in order to draw attention away. I simply cannot be sure unless someone who knows anything can confirm it.

I suppose even then it could be a lie. Fuck.

One other thing to discuss. I decided to mix portions of the various substances I have acquired. Azoth, Aqua regia, Hydrochloric Acid, Cuprite, Orpiment and Calamine Lotion. I will be frank in saying I am not entirely sure what it created. I did a very small bit of testing and, despite the high acidity of Aqua regia and Hydrochloric Acid, the compound was not acidic in the slightest. I dipped a spoon in it and it came out fine. Med reported that she tested Hydrochloric Acid on Azoth before and it had "adverse reactions." I noticed no such thing with my test, though I did add the Hydrochloric Acid last. Perhaps one or more of the other substances are causing the inconsistency. End result of all this is thus a strange thin black fluid. Much thinner than Azoth... Not as... Chunky. I'll play with it more some other time. Maybe force Uriel to drink it and see what happens. Wonder if it is a poison, but if so, why not just use something with more common ingredients that doesn't require mixing together.

Questions, questions and more fucking questions. It would be nice if someone could explain things to me in a clear concise manner, as I am clearly an idiot or something.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Purple Piper

Imagine waking up unable to breathe. Ears filling with a shrill tune as you open your eyes and see two empty black holes staring down at you, atop a maw filled with a white-blue light. For just an instant it appears that clutching that flute are two pale hands with long talons, raking themselves across the piper's flesh as he finished his tune. Then as you sit up, gasping for air, you see not the face of some horrific monster, but that of a cheerful man adorned in regal purple. Then he utters the words "Good morning my friend, how have you been faring?"

That is what I awoke to and the my first thought for a response was to leap from bed and run to the door. Only to find I could not open it. The Piper spoke again. "No... No Come now (My Name) you needn't be afraid of me. I am your friend here, as are all of my group. We are your only true friends out here, looking for your well being."

I asked him what he wanted.

"To apologize for our beloved Gardener's past behavior. Morgan is a cruel man, but we are not all like him. His inclusion was a necessary evil... But I am also here to try and make up for our, rather extreme reaction to finally having you safe within our home." He offered a sincere looking smile.

In response I said "You mean imprisoning me until your King could return and do whatever it is all of you plan to do? Are you going to tell me what it is you actually want from me?"

"My friend, calm yourself. I admitted locking you up like that was extreme... But it didn't really matter in the end did it? The Attendants still came to drag you off to their little space between worlds. If anything our protection should have been more extreme. Then perhaps you would not have subjected to that truly awful experience. Do you remember?" He seemed legitimately curious.

I answered. "I am not entirely sure what you are talking about. I remember you imprisoning Roland and myself and then I remember waking up on the floor of a motel a month later."

"I see. My King thought you might have blocked that memory out. The body has extreme reactions to such raw, unfiltered stimuli like that. Things man was never meant to see, and such, my friend."

I asked "So... Are you perhaps willing to answer my questions on all this?"

"That depends on the question, but I am here to try and... Soften your view on us."

"Alright. Answer this then. Who and What are you?"

He smiled a mischievous looking grin. "Once I was the thing in your closet as a child. The thing every child fears when they hide beneath their covers, oh so very aware of that faint little... Creak coming from the closet door. I would sit their hunched over in emulation of my former God, basking in the abject terror of the little child. Then I would play my music and watch as their tiny heartbeats slow to a crawl. Emerging from beneath their bed, or from the depths of their closets, I would press my lips to theirs and extract their sweet, delicious breath until not even a whisper remained in their tiny lungs." He did a twirl and began playing a pleasant tune from his flute. "Afterwords I would go out and join my brothers and sisters at the feet of our God, dancing and singing, howling at the moon and playing my merry little tune... I was a Maenad. Now a servant of a true God. A God of Men, of Mortal Kind." He bowed.

More than a bit disturbed I said. "That may have been too much information... What God did you serve and what God do you now serve?"

"My former lord was the original. The source of all those tales of creatures in the night, lurking just outside of the campfire's light. And when that light is extinguished he would come for his prey, singing sweet songs into their ears, caressing their cheeks even as begins to feed on them. With gnashing teeth and raking claws digging into sweet red flesh... My current God is both deity and King however. He has shown me my error in serving a beast, a false God who sees us as prey or little more chess pieces in some cosmic game. A game mind you, we intend to put an end to permanently." His tone for most of this was jovial, but darkened significantly towards the end.

"Raking claws? You could have just outright said It's name."

"It's name sirrah? Oh no, no, no, no, no... That disrespectful little nickname is one given by It's prey, not by Itself."

"Fair enough... Who is your 'King' and why does he want me?"

"A God in flesh. One who walked among us men, who knew of our struggles and plights. Who was raised by the servants of The Tall Pale God... Born as a toy of The Poison of God, he who is Malkira... One of your chief tormentors in fact. The Yellow Eyed Man. Like the Cyphre boy, my King was one of Malkira's toys. But unlike the broken and mad Cyphre, my King had focus and purpose. For a time, he denied his true calling, seeking to aid mankind... But those he deemed his friends abandoned him, one by one, he came to accept his destiny as our Lord and Savior. Adopting the role he was given by Malkira, he took the crimson mantle up and made it into something more. Something greater than Malkira and his fellow attendants, something greater than the Beast God or the Tall Faceless God. He became a God of Men, and opened the eyes of many others. Myself, Dr. Adler, Morgan, Rhodes, S... Scribe Theta chief among them. Eventually we were even joined by that Jester, a being older than any of us. Further proof of my Lord's divinity and power." Thus he finished without actually answering either of my questions.

"So... Does he have a name? And more importantly, what does he want with me?"

"Divine though he may be... Powerful, yes. But the Faceless God, the Beast God, The Diseased God... All and more still have more raw power. But our King has a cunning plot that will even the playing field and wipe the Black Chess Pieces from the board, replacing them with our blood soaked colors. You, my friend, are a part of this plan. There is something far older and stronger than the Faceless God, in a place where Fear itself dare not tread. The Knave knows the way, but will not open it until the Court has been called to session. That is why we need you. You will be the final member of our Court to dance in the warm glow of the Fire Witch. To unlock the stored power within her once beloved's shell, so that our King may claim it and the heavens."

I nodded slowly and carefully. This Piper is not of a sound mind. "So... The Attendants everyone keeps talking about. Who are they?"

He shuffled around for a moment and had a sour look on his face. "I cannot stay here for far longer. The Attendants know of my interference. My King is blocking them, but they are many and he is one. Soon they shall sneak past and drive me off... As for their nature, think of them as... Parasites and Angels. Crafted from the fragments of creation, born into this world as the heavenly host of the Evil Gods. First came Michael and then the rest. They are wicked creatures. Bored and mischievous, with far seeing eyes and feet that do not heed distance. Many once held cults in the barbaric ages before the Romans. Zalmoxis is one of interest to you. Uriel, the Light of God, the most active nemesis of my King. But there are others. Malkira, the Poison of God, once known as Kemsyt the Priest, now known as Samael. Father of Monsters like Morningstar. There is also Ramael, Lighting of God, Born into a Dutch Man o' War coming from Africa, bearing a Prince in Rags. It was he who massacred the arrogant men and women who attempted to rest control of the Faceless God's Cult from it's faithful. Finally there is Heylel, the one who ferried you from The Grove and took you between worlds. His is a sad tale, as he is a friend to Man. We had hoped he might join our cause, but alas... He feels my King is more Evil than his Gods and siblings. A fool."

Irritated, I told him. "Could you perhaps speak in shorter, less poetic sentences? Get to the point? I thought you said you did not have a lot of time."

He sighed. "My deepest apologies sirrah. Tis just the way I am... Alas, it is time for me to depart, and I do so with one last nugget of advice. The compounds you acquired... Dump them. Dump the King's Water and the Spirits of Salt, Blow the Cuprite and Orpiment to the wind. But above all, be rid of the Azoth. It is dangerous beyond anything you know. The Azoth is the key to Uriel's plot. Be rid of it, or you risk undoing all of our work... Be wary (My Name) Marsh. Your trials only just begun." He played a shrill, painful sound from his flute, causing me to wince. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

Despite what he said, Roland and I have no intention of dumping everything.... So. Thoughts anyone? I had to really strain to remember every word of those monologues. He was even more long winded than Morningstar... I myself have plenty of thoughts about this, but I am going to hold off on saying them until we find Uriel. Perhaps that will be more enlightening.

Thursday, June 13, 2013


It has been a fairly eventful couple of days. First thing is first. We mailed off Morningstar's pills to the... Address you sent Med. I have absolutely no idea when they will get there.

Second. I went to the post office identified as the drop off point for Morningstar's package. The package was laying outside covered in Yellow Paper Stars and Operator Symbols like some deranged Kindergarten art project. Beneath all the doodles was a box, and in this box were various vials of varying substances. One of which, labelled Spirits of Salt, is almost certainly hydrochloric acid. The other vials were labelled "King's Water", "Auripigmentum", "Cuprite" and "Calamine Lotion." There was also one empty vial labelled "Azoth."

More importantly however, there was a return address here, as well as the name of the Sender's. "Your dear friends, Yuri, Gabe and Samuel." Yuri. Yuri L. Polzin. Uriel. Someone who actually knows what is going on. And now we know where he is. So our next course of action is obvious.

But as obvious as it is, there are equally obvious risks involved. When we saw Uriel last, he was with the largest group of Pale Men I have ever seen, and there were utterly trashing the Oathbreaker's Asylum. This likely means that Pale Men might be hanging around Uriel. But we already captured one Proxy. And really, the only other option is to continue running away, and that has not been working out so great. 

Roland of course agrees with me. This is the most obvious course of action. The only thing we can really do that might have some effect on our predicament.

The Azoth we acquired from Morningstar has yielded little in the way of results. I have poked and prodded it in every way I know how, but there were no new results. I listened to it, but it did not speak. Roland suggested I try to boil the Azoth. Will it become steam if I do? What effect would Azoth have in steam form?  How would it feel?

It is fortunate I had the foresight to save some of Morningstar's Azoth. I filled up the empty vial with it. I now have a full set of... Whatever it is these substances are for. Med reported that Azoth has adverse reactions to Hydrochloric Acid. So how would it react to things like Cuprite and Calamine Lotion. Why Calamine Lotion? 

... I will sleep on it, I suppose. 

Monday, June 10, 2013


I decided to post this AFTER we were certain Morningstar was dead and buried. For all those concerned about him coming back from the dead again, know that I shot him in the head, drove him off to a predetermined location to decapitate and then burn his corpse. We then dropped the remains into a river. Bottom line is, he is dead.

You know, I think I should be feeling some measure of guilt for killing a person. But it really felt like putting down a rabid animal. Besides, he made incredibly easy to dislike him and want him dead. So in a way I suppose... I actually feel rather good about this. It is a pleasant feeling.

Naturally I looked over his corpse for anything useful. One thing stood out. The bullet wound was bleeding black. Complete black. I don't think there was a drop of red in it. I will have to be thorough though, and it is a bit premature to say with certainty, but I suspect this is the substance known as Azoth. The blogger Med has written an excellent post detailing her findings of Azoth, so I shall link that in lieu of parroting essentially the same information. Assuming this is Azoth, I will attempt to... Play with it and see if I can learn anything new about it.

In terms of the interrogation, Morningstar only gave one more interesting statement before his time ran out. He remarked about needing to pick up something from a "drop off point" at midday tomorrow. Said drop off point was a post office, so this will serve two purposes. I intend to see what it is the proxies are doing, as it may involve us, and, assuming I receive a mailing address via E-mail, I will send Med the pills I took from Morningstar, as she requested. He clearly won't be needing them anymore.

Now. I am deeply bothered by something. Morningstar did not escape. He was not rescued. There was no escape attempt and no rescue attempt. There are multiple possible reasons for this.

1. He is expendable. While I assume this is true to some extent, he seemed a bit too involved in whatever is going on. This hunt for me. I don't think they would have simply let him die like that.

2. They don't know where we are. Also unlikely, as I am positive they know our movements. All of them. Or at least, I am going to work under the assumption that they do. That said, we haven't had a visit from the Pale Men in a long time, nor have we seen any actual Proxies outside of Morningstar's group. Perhaps Morningstar was the only one who knew where we were? But then why didn't his group try to rescue him? Theoretically it could be that they don't know our current whereabouts. Again, I doubt this highly.

3. There was an escape attempt, but it failed. I am on the fence about this one. Morningstar has shown varying levels of competence on his blog before. Failures are as common as successes usually due to his own psychosis and quirks. It could be he tried to escape or an rescue was mounted, but it failed so spectacularly that we didn't even notice. Stranger things have happened, and to our credit... We have been very careful.

4. This is all part of some elaborate plan. This is the one that I think is most likely. Everything else has been part of someone's plan, be it Magog, The Court or the Proxies. Perhaps this a bit defeatist to say, but I don't think we turned the tables quite yet. So maybe we should try and kidnap someone who likely doesn't want to be kidnapped. Maybe... Well if we could ambush Morgan perhaps we could catch him. Or we could go seeking out Yuri Polzin and see if we can't capture him. Both clearly know what is going on. Downside is it might attract the Pale Men and the rest of the Court. Morningstar seemed very... Scared of The King. So we'll have to plan this out very well.

Think I am going to bed now. Will be nice to have sleep uninterrupted by that annoying little fuck.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Last Chance

To be honest with you all right now, I am deeply unnerved. Not by Morningstar or Dumah, but rather the lack of anything happening. I was sure a rescue attempt would be made on Morningstar by now. They have always known where we are at all times before, so I suspect they know where we are now. But Morningstar has not attempted to escape. Not REALLY tried I mean. He has given the bare minimum of resistance and makes only a token effort to escape. No sign of Dumah either. I know It does not seem to care much for It's servants, but It has intervened on their behalf before, according to what I have read up on. Now would be an excellent time. But nothing is happening.

Withholding Morningstar's "Medication" is having some clear effect. He is not smiling and laughing anymore. He is constantly glaring, and prefers to answer our question with snarls as opposed to jokes and stories. This has lead to a few interesting little statements from him though. Usually mutterings to himself.

"Stupid Lucky fuck." "Wish they would hurry it up." "Just do it already."

I wonder if he is referring to me as a "Stupid lucky fuck." I can't see why, mind you. But he was definitely staring at me when he said that.

Hurry what up? And who is that directed towards? His team seems likely, but at the same time the next statement "Just do it already" sounds like he wants me to kill him.

Taking Incognitos advice into consideration, we began to refer to him as "Luke" and asking a lot of questions about his parents. The responses were usually snarls, or threats of a more direct nature than his previous ones.

He did answer a question about Morgan's group. The Court. He said that they were "Traitorous fucking psychopaths" going on to mention Morgan as an Ex-Timberwolf, and then discussing a "Carol" who is an Ex-Oathbreaker, before slipping into a rant about "That fucking Doll" and "The Rake's Pied Piper." He then insulted my Uncle's memory and then started hurling insults directed at "Rhodes." When I asked him about their "King" he got quiet for a minute before telling me "Don't talk about him. You really, really don't me to tell you about him." I told him that I do. His response:

"Their King is Evil inside a human meatsuit. One of the Attendant's failed toys. Guess that makes us related, eh? Sammy, Sammy, Samael. Dear Old Dad's most mischievous son and proactive toymaker. But the King is evil, evil and VERY dangerous. Shit. He is the main reason your situation is so fucking out of control. You are not the first either, though he went by a different name back then. You are however, the most important to Father and my Uncles and Aunts."

"Father and my Uncles and Aunts." His "father" is Dumah, so does that make the likes of the Good Doctor and the Archangel example of "Uncles?" If so, I DESPERATELY need Morningstar to explain why. But of course he became very tight lipped after that aside from occasional random swearing.

I kept pressing him for a reply of course. He eventually gave one that answers precisely nothing. "Old uncle Silas knew." Which is both useless and probably a lie, as Silas would have told me if he knew anything. In addition, the fact he is dead now makes it impossible to tell either way.

Morningstar has one more day to live. As useful as he has been, which is to say not very, I will be very happy once he is dead and buried... Well actually we probably won't bury him. Waste of time. Shoot him and let him rot. He deserves worse, but he might actually enjoy it if I tried to torture him.