Friday, December 31, 2010

I need to get my mind off things, really.
These past few days I've been intercahngeably depressed and euphoric and depressed again. Some things that happenned in my past came back to haunt me, while some new hope for myself came up.
Then it shattered and reconstructed itself.
It's as if life is determined not to keep any constants for me.

Anyway, my point is, while I am trying to hide these swings from my friends, still some people notice.
Specifically, Adrian noticed, since he has been closely watching me for some times since his "infection". He thinks that this can be related to Slendy, but I sure hope not.

Adrian started, well, cooperating with me. He refuses to approach the Operator, but he wants to act as physical backup, because, as he puts it, he doesn't want to let me hurt myself. He wants to pummel the living daylights out of me "when this is all over".
Of course, "this" being over is VERY wishful thinking, but Adrian suggested we check on Brian and Clara, for how "deep" they are and to see if it's possible to, again as he puts it, "salvage anything".
Brian has "lost time" already, so he's probably past saving, but we can probably "compare notes". Clara, on the other hand, got over the Slendy memes, and currently reacts to mentions of them with "meh" and such. 
Basically, she's somehow free.

And I lost prank #4 somewhere, and recreating it will take a while, what with the materials needed. Damn, I wonder whether if it'd have worked. We'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, I'm only a couple of hours away from a New Year's Eve Party with a bunch of nutcases that I'm proud to call friends, and I intend to have some damn good fun and I wish the same to everybody who's reading this.

Happy New Year and see you in the future.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Grand Solstice Event

Here ends the Core Theory.
Or maybe it's just beginning.

Anyway, this is one last favour to a friend.
This is how it could have gone.

He stood in many places at once - the roof of an abandoned hospital, a silent crossroad at the edge of a small town, a forest clearing, the middle of a frozen lake, a top of small hill, the bottom of some spacious basement, a brightly lit mall. He stood there, waiting.
He stood in many places, just as he had many names - the Slenderman, Der Grosse Mann, Vysokiy, The Nightmare Man, Mr Suit...
He fed on their terror, their fears and insecurities, he made himself subliminally in many places - The Gentlemen, Struwwelpeter, Yahtzee's Tall Man, the Eldrazi, Jack Skellington. He made sure they'd know.
And now, they wanted to face him - confront him, the audacity of it, HURT him. Preposterous, hurt is what happens to other creatures, was it not?
Reality made itself certain, he was only in one place now, as destiny would have it. He watched with glee the two groups approaching him from the sides. They made no effort to communicate before the battle and this would be their downfall - when he knew they were within each other's line of sight, he made it happen.
Proxies, they call them, indoctrinated, agents, drones, maskies, but in most cases, they're just victims that are made to think you are the threat. And you are made to think they are the threat.
He does make some men his, but they weren't needed here.
The two groups charged each other and started fighting, both sides believeing they were attacking their great foe's minions. Easy. He'd just watch them slaughter themselves, feasting on the despair around them, and finish off what was left personally. That was the plan, simple and wonderful.
Then things went...wrong. Or right, depending of your point of view.
One man ignored the swarms of fighters and pushed on towards the Slenderman. A young man with a monster's face and a curved blade held in hand. A nothing, a bug to be stomped on.
The man with the blade ran at him, swinging with all his strenght. Easy.
He was grabbed by his arms immediately, or perhaps branches or tentacles, the world was not certain of that, and he was raised by him into the air while the man's organs were being slowly penetrated by Slenderman's extremities. The young warrior let out a scream of pain, followed by... a triumphant laugh?
Every fighter in front of them stood still, watching. Their voices spoke together.
"Zero", they said and the illusion, or whatever it was, wore off. Everybody there that night was there for Zero - he called them and each of them somehow knew him.
Easy, he thought again - he'd just will some of his true minions to the scene and watch as the people who no doubt would think that these "proxies" were also innocent victims get slaughtered by his slaves. And he did so.
But the drones never came, but loud and fast cracks and booms could be heard. Moans of dying came after them and into sight emerged half a dozen men wielding gunpowder powered weapons. They had no intention to fight him, it wasn't their task. Their task was to safeguard the battlefield and tell the tale.
They were somehow a... threat? He could feel it. He couldn't just get to them - the eyes of the fighters were fixed upon him.
He...became...enraged, perhaps. He tore through them, ripping off limbs and breaking the weaker minds with simple thoughts. Then, something absolutely and completely beyond his comprehension happenned. He felt something burst through what they would call his "chest". It was a simple, small, sharp piece of wood. He turned around and grabbed the...girl, yes, a girl, who shoved it through him.
"Not a vampire" she said "but was worth the try"
He was going to break her, when he impact on where his "knees" were. He turned again, dropping the girl.
"Granddad's iron crowbar, bitch!" said the boy beneath him.
Before he could act he felt a small bit of metal penetrate what would be his head. He pulled it out and watched it glimmer. It looked precious in a human way. He saw a young man holding what they called a revolver, with smoke coming out of the end.
The warriors safeguarding the perimeter were gone. He was annoyed by these attempts as more of the fighters started to attempt wounding him, as preposterous as it was.
He ripped them apart, everyone that came close, even if he did manage to hit, would die quickly and very painfully.
Some, somehow, managed to avoid him, after their attacks they'd back off, watch and flee.
Soon the battle ended, he was victorious, with his enemies, as ineffectual as they were dead or far away, and even those he would get to someday.
But the lingering feeling that they did not try everything and that someday they would, stayed with him.
That something would work, even more so.

Sorry if that felt wrong, but I love writing villain POVs.

Stay safe guys,
I'm okay, and will be even better later today.


Merry Christmas to all.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Tough night...

It's like 4 AM here and I just got back home.

I'm checking on the others as I write this and I'll edit this into a full entry once I get a clear view of what went down.

Also, yes, I had my hands full with Slenderman tonight.



Sorry for the edit coming so late, but I was beat from the events of the night and I just had to get some sleep, of which I got too little anyway, since falling asleep was a chore in itself.

I need to make it clear that I did not take part in Zero's massive battle plan, mainly due to being on another continent.

Anyway, here's a quick rundown of what went down this night for me.
I attended a Christmas party at the office where I work, The Mask stashed in my locker. I gave windows and closed doors the usual distrusting looks, but everything seemed fine. Until I left, that is.
You see, the office is nowhere near the center of the city, more like a creepy suburb, but with small office buildings and warehouses instead of homes and as I was walking down the road to catch the night bus I noticed someone following me, as in, a person walking some distance behind me, taking the same turns, going out of sight when I stopped, the usual.
I decided to check how determined my potential assailant actually was so I jumped a fence and found a small warehouse under construction, or rather, in need of several finishing touches - basically a bare brick building with no doors or lights. Unfinished, rather than under construction.
I knelt down and put on the Mask.
Then I saw Slenderman in there, standing, staring.
I thought back then that it's good that I have pranks number 4 and 5 at the ready. And then three proxies came into my field of view, ruining those pranks quite a bit. Anyway, the three consisted of two guys, one a bit lanky, the other a bit shorter but better built and the girl in the middle, they were wearing what I can easily call the creepiest masks I've seen on a person. They were completely blank and featureless, just these white surfaces without even visible eyeholes. It's anyone's guess how they saw through them.
The three came to a halt about four meters from me. Keeping in mind the probable attack from the unknown stalker that had been behind me and everything that was in front of me, I decided to crack a joke.
"So what?" I asked, looking directly at TPF, "These guys are going to break into a song and dance routine now?". Bad joke.
Slendy titlted his head and they did. The tall guy started to sing "Carpe Noctem" from Dance of the Vampires of all things and they began circling me, dancing. Another mistake I made was thinking that I could easily hit one of them, since they were dancing, and make a run for it. I don't know if my movements were somehow slowed down, but it sure felt that way, and the masked bastards (and bitch), without losing rythm, knocked me around a bit and knocked me to the ground and then had the nerve to just continue dancing. TPF tilted his head to the other side, apparently amused.
I got up slowly and look at him, the other two joined the lanky one in singing.
"This is how it is? Let's play it your way." I said.

I don't know, whether it was an effect of Slendy affecting his proxies, or the Solstice, or some narrative based bull, but I easily overtook their song with one I started singing and when I started dancing, they moved in accord. I don't know if you've ever seen a fight scene in a stage musical, but that's how I would describe what went down - I basically directed their dancing so that they knocked each other out. In the moment I thought it was luck, but now that I get a moment to consider, I'd sooner gues that it was Slendy's way of toying with me, convincing me that I can do something that I actually can't.

Still, I had to test out at least number 5, so I took it out of my backpack, happy that the packaging wasn't damaged, I walked up to TPF with it, thinking "I did this twice already, I can do it again."
And then I froze like I was never frozen before. If the Solstice does make him more vulnerable, it sure as hell doesn't make him weaker, or maybe the vulnerability makes him put in that extra effort in. All my muscles were locked stuck, my heart stopped for a second I think.
I don't know how long I stood frozen, but I know it was long enough for the proxies to get up, toss me into the snow and start kicking the shit out of me the old fashioned way, without dancing, that is.

Then some charged the lanky guy, I instinctively grabbed the girl's leg and pulled her to the ground, trying to pin her down and let my rescuer, whoever he was, do as good a job on the two guys. She threw me off quite quickly and aimed a kick at my face.
Then she fell unconscious.
My rescuer stood above me and helped me up. Slenderman was gone, prank number 5 lay where he had stood, unwrapped.
Then I got a look at who saved me.

He said he should've left me to them, well maybe he should, but I'm glad he followed me and saved me. I'm not damaged permanently, either, so don't fret, just a few bruises. The Mask somehow survived.

I'll edit again later, for the supposed account of Zero's grand battle.
Screw that, I'll just slap in another post.

Stay safe, guys.
I obviously didn't.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Bunny is back

So yeah, I got my mask back.
Apparently I lent it to a friend of mine for a LARP, which is believeable, except one detail.
I do not recall ever doing this, and several people have confirmed seeing me handing The Mask to him personally.
So yeah, lost time is never a good sign, especially with our tall and skinny friend around.
Question is, what did I lose except lending the Mask to my buddy?

I suspect that this event may have occured due to me directly exposing myself to TPF for the recent "pranks". I will have to investigate further to make sure. I may try Passer-By's idea and employ Christmas Carols this time. Might be amusing.

Outside slender problems, recent events have me very optimistic.

Stay safe guys.


Thursday, November 25, 2010

Pranks done

I shat a house, I kid you not.

I'll briefly address current events before proceeding to the meat of this entry.
Everything seems to be going to hell everywhere. Nessa, Robert, Jean. I'm sorry, I can't help.
Also, some agent who hijacked Robert's blog seems to demand that the (Titled) reject their (Titles), the Runners clear their blogs and so forth and so on.
He keeps saying how irrelevant and powerless we are. Disproportionate retribution then.
Either that, or we're somehow relevant.

Shaun rejected his title with an air of defiance. He stated that it wasn't his anyway.
Will I do the same? Today, I don't think so.
'Seer'? I could, it's too serious for me.
'Sage'? Too big.
'Jester'? Sorry, mine.

On to the "pranks".

Prank 1/3:
  - one complete business suit; black
  - one faceless latex mask
  - one drone, agent or whoever
  - any type of room with mirror
  - smelling salts
Confirmed agent/drone of TPF in my vicinity. Lured drone into shopping mall bathroom where he was swiftly knocked out and put into a costume of TPF.
Used smelling salts to wake drone. Subject saw himself in the mirror and started having something that looked like either a heavy headache or a complete breakdown.
TPF appeared after a few minutes of prolonged stationary panic of subject and forcibly removed the mask.
Subject fainted.

I'm not comfortable with this pseudo-scientific approach, I'll get back to writing normally.

And that's when I quuietly retreated
I suspect this created a severely traumatic identity crisis within the poor bugger I used. TPF was unimpressed, but look somewhat agitated. Either he didn't notice me, or the unmasking was more important than me.
It's a possible distraction measure.

Prank 2/3:
You need: TPF, a 20$ bill

Yes, I did that. That's the one after which I needed to "shit myself to a calm". I carried twenty dollars (American) on me and I walked around late waiting to notice him. And there he was. I gripped the bill and walked up to him.
My intention was to just shove him the bill and walk away, but I froze up.
The fear was tangible at that distance, it was a chilling suspense whichmade every horror book, game or movie I've ever played and enjoyed look timid in comparison.
So after the few seconds which it took me to jerk out of the paralysis of ruining horrors for myself forever he was still there, right in front of me, "looking" at me with what seemed a quiet interest.
I shoved the twenty into him, I don't know how and when he grabbed it, but it doesn' matter.
He started to look to the bill and to me in turn and looked thoroughly confused.
The idea here was, that if he runs on belief and knowledge of him, meme's related to him may affect him.
I walked away after some time. He was still shifting his gaze from the twenty to me and back when I lost sight of him.
Possible memetic weapon here, then.

Prank 3/3:
For this prank get: one mask with distinct human features, one insane person with no survival instinct to actually do it.

The insane person is me, of course.
This one began like 2/3, but instead of handing him 20$ I picked the human mask out of my pocket and shoved it onto where his would be. I still don't get why didn't do anything to me in these two attempts.
Anyway, after being masked TPF started exhibiting similiar symptoms to the drone from 1/3, only additionally he started to lose shape and form.
The problem is two proxies appeared out of nowhere right when I did that, as if they rose out of the ground.
I clocked one immediately, but the other was too nimble. They pulled out knives. I decided to leg it just in case. And it's effing hard to giht in The Mask.

This prank may work well as a last chance effort to save oneself in TPF's presence.

As to the victims, Brian and Clara exhibit no new or interesting symptoms, while Adrian apparently found this blogm read it and now officially hates my guts for intentionally infecting him.

Tough luck.

That's it for today guys,
Stay Safe
Maduin The Jester

Saturday, November 13, 2010


Well, this is something I wanted to post about sooner or later, so here goes.

We all wear masks, most of the time in the metaphorical sense - we behave in certain ways before our families, our co-workers, people on the street. This is a natural defensive behaviour, since humans, most of them, believe that exposing your actual "self" before anyone except the closest of people (and in some cases even before those) puts them at risk. People are uncomfortable with being themselves before others for fear of this being used as a weapon against them.

This is also why people seem startled or shocked by those who do not feel restraint in their public behaviours - they see them as behaving obscenely, or perhaps carelessly. Both cases are just scary to most people.
For similar reasons when conducting some activities related to TPF I wear an actual physical mask.
It is a mask emotionally linked to myself, being a sad reminder of a happier times, representing an entity of an approach akin to mine, yet with a differrent motivation altogether.
The motivation is simple - this is another layer of character that neds to be penetrated before my personality itself will become the target. However, this is not the only reason.

As we're set in this struggle with a faceless horror, we are becoming characters in a story and masks reinforce the roles we play, while some of TPF's drones, if they were masks anyway, wear almost featureless ones, to accentuate their "spear-carrier" nature.
Makes me wonder what kind of mask my 'Rock' would wear...

But enough of this pseudo-intellectualism on my part, on to the status report on the victims:

Adrian is slowly developing hostility towards people normally friendly to him and has once recounted losing time, but he cannot recall the conversation in which this happenned.

Brian finished an archive binge on Dreams in Darkness and got quite heavily into Everyman HYBRID. Vicitim has taken to study of mythical and occult techiniques of driving off evil fairies.

Clara seems okay so far. Symptoms have not changed since last noted.

Also, I know this is pprobably not funny, but the Three Sages have become three Gs:
Guardian, Guide and Gone.

Stay safe,

Sunday, November 7, 2010

I hate clowns

They terrify me to no end and they did so long before I read Stephen King's "IT", or saw Tim Curry perform the role of Pennywise.

The problem with me is, I'm sort of a fear junkie. I thrive on suspense, tension and irrational fears and this is what got me drawn into my current situation with Tall-Pale-Faceless.

Still, my despise of clowns goes beyond fear and into outright loathing, wich makes me taking up the mantle of the Jester in this performance quite amusing. Then again, I am also always up for a good laugh.

And so, the Jester who despises Clowns and laughs at himself for sitting so close to them has received a nomination for the title of "Sage" by some messenger of the former Three Sages.
Numbered 1, to boot.
I thought I was the one to joke here, but fate loves one-upping me on the funny.

Nice to see numbers 2 and 3. We make a diverse bunch.

So, I got this second mantle, after being named  a "Seer" by Robert, and while never fully accepted that one, I think I'll cut up both robes and sew them into my new jester suit.

And here I am, the Rule of Three Personified - Holding Three Titles, first one Given, second one Chosen, third one Inherited, being the First of The Second Three Sages, overseeing The Three Victims.

Still, the Joke's on us, because we're the Second Three, and the cycle won't be complete without a Third Three, so we'll either have to step down at some point, or be struck down. Not a happy thought.

But enough of this pointles wall of text, I'll get to the point. Zero, you want to communicate, it is. I don't see how I can help, you, or, inversely, how you could assist me, but let's try. Amelia, you get in contact too.

I still can't see why the titles were passed on to us, but let's run with it.

As for my joke, there's nothing new on the Victims, a trap has been set for TPF, however calling it a trap is exaggarating, because it's more of a prank, for which I could use one of his drones, but any runner will do.

And one more thing, I'm noticing ever more a Rock that sparks my interest and might become helpful. It's a joke within itself, because the Rock seems to not be there.

Oh my, an entire post, and I dare say a quite long one, consisting almost entirely of shameless self-plugging, as Someone ;) put it.

I will need to make a couple photos for my next entry, but let's wait for that until something note-worthy happens to the Victims, shall we?

Stay Safe

Also, I read the initial letters of our (Amelia, Zero and mine) handles in the order we were given. Read out loud it goes "am-AY-zee" and I can't help but giggle every time I do that.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

The sinning commences

Robert, Sage turned Guardian,  is gone.

Jay has been gone for a while.

Shaun apparently also ended, but in his case there's still hope.

Still, Robert stated that the new Three Sages are there and the titles are up for grabs, so I'm very interested who will step up to the challenge, while I play a trick on TPF.

Also, there's a bunch of psychos with heavy duty firepower tracking and eliminating runners as a means to stop TPF's existence. Won't do any good, if you ask me, and Nightcrawler, as their leader calls himself, will most likely end up shooting himself.

So, for the title drop on this post.
The sinning commences, three victims have been infected, each a different person altogether, each given a different story. It's been almost two weeks, so let's introduce them:

First victim, called Adrian for convenience. Early twenties, fit, good-looking, nothing exceptional about him. Infected via Marble Hornets and Dreams in Darkness. Symptoms so far: maniacal delving into the mythos and initial look-over-the-shoulder paranoia.

Second victim, "Brian". Late teens, story writing talents, sub-par physical performance, book worm, initially fuelled with tales of badassery of Detective Ezekiel Strahm and similar, associate's the mythos with Croshaw's "John DeFoe series". Symptoms so far: claims to have seen TPF once and is currently checking mythological texts, folk legends and fairy tales for creatures resembling him and any method to fight back.

Third victim, "Clara". Mid-twenties, long-time RPG player, charismatic, good singing voice, inventive, very fit, treated to almost every comedic meme concerning our pursuer before being introduced to TribeTwelve and Just another Fool, her favourites are "20 dollaz" and "Splendorman". Symptoms so far: nothing noticable, except maybe a painfully vocal addiction to aforementioned memes.

As for me personally, sightings have been scarce but regular and yesterday he manifested prominently outside a bar I was having a drink in. I may be acting irrationally, but I haven't left home, I'm not running.

Oh, and M has been gone quite a while now, I hope he's okay, even though he'll start hating my guts as soon as he reads this post.

Stay safe.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Weakness and Strenght

One thing comes to mind whenever I think about all the people that he claimed as his victims, one consistency.
Mental breakdown.

All the vcentral ictims were abducted/killed/devoured/whatever tall, pale and faceless has had a field day with their minds, pushing them into paranoia, mad ravings, self-loathing. You can see it almost everywhere, with the one exception: he could kill people that were not his central victims if it was the means to break someone else's mind.

I have noted, that me sighting him occurs only in moments of my emotional weakness - sadness, self-doubt, yearning. In contrast, whenever I am in peak emotional condition (like, for example, right now) he does not appear at all.

It is my belief that,1) he is a mental parasite, inhabitting not the world, but the minds of men and 2) that he can only exist withing negativity of some sort, therefore he will attempt, once has enough "room to maneuver" anyway, to increase fear and despair, so has, well, more space.
Note that I do not believe that he is in any way afraid of, or hurt by, joy, fighting spirit, happyness or love - they just limit his space.

There are also many people who know of him and are still not stalked, because they think him absurd, stupid looking, funny, etc.
Many things, just not a source of fear.

Zero suggested writing his defeat. Robert(Sage) mentioned Heroes, Warriors and Guardians.
I do think, what we need is a Champion.
Not a Hero to die, but a Champion to conquer.

Only where would we find one?

Thanks for watching my poor excuse for a journal, Cindy. I love ya ;)

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

That's not funny.

It just isn't. People died, went insane, disappeared who-knows-where. Friends and family turned on each other, and some of us have nightmares that would keep even the most emotionally numb awake at night.

Sorry for no lenghty, multi-post establishing of character or reader sympathy. I've never had the hand to write a blog, and I'm going to do some things that people are gonna hate me for.

Especially You, M. You're going to hate my guts for this, but it's as much my battle as yours now.

I'm not running yet, no way.

If my pursuer manages to devour me, then I hope I can at least help those of you, who will keep on running.

Stay safe, guys.