Wrath is Eternal

Or so I've been hearing lately.

Its that shithead's go to line...



Foreshadowing.
Lets scale back a bit. Ease into it. Lube up. Foreplay. All that jazz. Then we'll jump in again once everyone's ready.

Assuming that last sentence wasn't creepy enough to scary you off, that is. He'd probably prefer you not read this anyways. He hated blogs... hated blogging... hated bloggers.

He was just an all around shit head really.




Scaling back.

So, Whisper is finally doing better. Hes finally found his voice again and we've resumed hollowing and storing death marked runners. That is still an unfortunate necessity of my job. But its better than dying. I have to believe that.

Whisper tends to agree with me on the topic but I think he just likes feeling self important. The whole hollowing operations depends on him. If we tried to hand someone death marked over to Father to be hollowed he'd just kill them. That Motherfucker is so narrow sighted. But alas, I should just be happy he allows me the alternative of hollowing them at all... I guess.

We've let Devil out of lock down... kind of. Shes in chains. We quite literally have a ball weight and chain shackled to her feet for good measure. The chains restrict enough to keep her from crafting and the weights ensure she wouldn't survive a run through the path before the denizens ripped her apart. We've got both her hands wrapped into balls and tethered together by her wrists anyways. She couldn't open a door or really do much harm on her own if she wanted to. Although I suspect she doesn't. I've had Ralph feeding her in the meantime. Although I caught her eating with no hands the other day... quite the mess.

Little Jack is still a shit head. Ivan is off with the couriers. Maggot is still off with Em and David.

Oh, and here's the Kicker, I woke Duckie back up.


Lets scale back again. Explain the very nature of how Duckie is even still alive. See Duckie is special. Hes like a warhead. His presence is toxic to fears. They hate it. They hate him. They hiss and squeal. It honestly seems to wound them to whatever small degree.

And that's why I've always fought so hard for Duckie. Because we can use him bash the other Fears under Father's thumb when they fall out of line without ripping a fucking hole in reality as tends to happen when Father has to do it himself.

And that plan honestly could have saved us from our current situation of being hunted like animals by the other fears if it was just one or two of them. But its all of them jabbing at all sides. Made it hard to figure out where to send the warhead.

But Duckies gift comes at a great personal cost to himself. Something long time readers might have noticed.

See, the presence of fears gives poor Duckie an aneurysm. Specially speaking, a brain aneurysm 

Now, it was actually never my intent to use Duckie against a fear. That would have been a last resort. Quite frankly, they hate me enough without me trying to shove a thumb in their eyes and it's not my place. That's Fathers place... presumably. I mean they are his Brothers and Sisters.

I was gonna use Duckie in a very important generational blood sacrifice. His special 'trait' and his taught hatred for everyone around around him made him a perfect candidate. But that's neither here or there. We always have more candidates... although Duckie might have been a grand enough sacrifice to have bought us multiple generations before anyone else had to die... real pity. 

Naturally Father wasn't thrilled with the idea. In fact, I think that was the first time he ever ripped into be outside of one of my loops. I still have the scar just under my left rip to show for that. I should count myself lucky he didn't take any organs out on his exit that day... I guess.

But I got him to agree the way I always do. See, proxies have quite a reputation for making deals with Father. Bargaining with him. David's was quite famous in his own day for being able to make deals for other people with Father as a kind broker.

I have never been so fortunate. Something about Father and I's relationship has always been a little more on the... hostile side. I make all my deals by bet. If I lose, I get dragged off into a loop and ripped apart bit by bit for... well the deal is for 24 hours but I get the sense he goes for longer... never quite... get use to that...

...

[Fuckface zoned out for like, half an hour. I had to snap him back to reality by punching the desk.  -Jack]

Uh, right. So... where... right! But if I win, I get my way.

For Duckie the bet was simple. If, once indoctrinated, he stayed true to his vow of loyalty to Father for 10 years, I got to keep him. If not, in addition to being shredded behind closed loops, I had to put him down with my own hands or my shredding would not be in a loop this time.

Gambled and won. Duckie never shy'd away. Not even when I told him how much Father hated him. Not even when I told him he had to die.

Like a loyal dog... his only recourse was to kneel and wait.

I won. But that Motherfucker.... such a poor loser. He altered the deal. Sure I got Duckie, but just the shell. To spite me, and to great audible personal discomfort, Father picked him up by the neck and peeled away all the made Duckie who he was.

I found it hard to be mad. I mean I had just won. Hollowed or not, I still had Duckie. My precious little sacrifice.

I hadn't anticipated just how petty Father really was. The lengths that motherfucker might take to wiggle around our wager.

Oh he could have just told me. I would have sped up the sacrifice. Hid Duckie far out of his sight as not to remind him of his loss. Would have made arrangements to appease him. Fed him Konna or tossed Zero's sword into a Volcano. Whatever it took.

But he had to feel like he was winning. Getting one up over one me. Felt the needs to pull me off of my high horse and then toss the horse on top of me.

And poor fucking Picasso. When he had me take her to see the Tree those many fucking years ago... I didn't know it would do this to her. I didn't know he'd turn around and use her to try to fucking gut me!

And let me emphasize that this little game of ours has been a foot for YEARS. 2 years to indoctrinate Duckie. 10 years to test him. 4 of which I spent apart from Duckie after that asshole Loveless stole him out from under me and left me for fucking dead. And it wasn't after the full 12 years that he decided to pull this crap with Picasso. He saw Duckie's loyalty. He saw how hard I was working to get him back. He KNEW he was gonna lose. He probably put Loveless up to it, that poor sap.

No. It was 6 years into his career, 8 years after our game started, and 2 years after Duckie was ripped from me.2 years after I had recruited Picasso. 4 ENTIRE fucking years before he would have won or lost the bet, when he told me to take Picasso to see the Tree. 

6 years ago, he took her and warped her into the sick depraved thing  shes become as INSURANCE in case he lost. Pushed a pawn across the board and made a Queen as I moved in for checkmate.

Well the Motherfucker isn't the only one who can bend the rules. Nothing in our deal said he had to stay hollow and NOTHING in our fucking deal said I couldn't march him out to snap Picasso's neck.

I won FAIR AND SQUARE. And I'm not about to let Father flip the board on me.

We'll settle this game like good gentlemen do, as we always have.

God Fucking Damn it

Just.... Urrrrph. Fuck. FUUUUUUUCK.

That smug selfish two faced son of a bitch. I'd-.... HRRRMPH. Fucking bullshit.

For once in my life, I find I might very well kill something.

Fuck.

Just... fuck man.

...



Hey there! Surprise Jack Attack! Hahahaha.

Fracture's like... off throwing a fit or something... I don't know for sure actually. Could be off crying into a pillow. Whatever it is Fuck Face does when hes really upset. My money is on the tantrum though though. His pasty pale ass was fuming. I thought the compound might light on fire or something! You know, the parts of the compound that aren't perpetually on fire. I wonder if those would just go out then?

Although that wouldn't be a tantrum at that point. That'd just mean his lazy ass moved the fires.

Regardless there have been no unintentional fires, but once again I find that surprising because that fucker is pissed.

So he asked me to report what happened.

I was there for it after all. I got to torture Devil. Its what I was doing when she came clean.

She couldn't die in the loop. Every time she did, she'd wake up the next day and we'd start the process back over again.

What I did over this time was take a torch and slowly roast away at a part of her body. I would usually start with the far end of an extremity and work my way inwards. For example, I would start with a hand and eventually get to the torso before I moved on to another limb.

The process was, as I already stated, first burning a part of her until it turned black. Then I would take out the knife and start cutting away at the black until I found pink or red again. Then I would resume the burning. I would do this until I got to the bone. Then I would move to the other side of the limb and burn that down to the bone. Work my way up the bone. And when there was no flesh left on it, I would break the bone away. Assuming I even had to at that point.

She got through the first day of this screaming and crying before she bit through her own tongue and prematurely killed herself. I had only just removed her hand the day following when she finally gave in. I suppose its one thing to die for a cause. Its another thing to keep dying for a cause.

At the end of the day, repetition really is the best torture.

The conversation when something like this:

"No! NO NO NO NO NO!" And then she screamed as I broke her charred hand away and took a torch to the end of the limb to make sure she wouldn't bleed out.

She started babbling after that. "N-No... no no no no no. No more... no... NO MORE!" She started to scream again as I took the knife out once more to start carving away the black charred flesh.

"Wait," said Facture, holding up a hand like hes a fucking Jedi with mind fuck powers. The whole gesture made me want to keep going out of spite but I stopped anyways. Last thing I need is to end up strapped to a table like Devil with that fucker Maggot taking a torch to me for my disobedience.

"Who is behind this? The rake? Have you been hearing whispers? The wooden girl? Have you been threatened with a life on strings? Possibly the intrusion? Is there a massive millipede living in my fucking ventilation system?!"

"I-I already told you... S-Sloth did. H-He wants to see Duckie put to re-"

"BULLSHIT! Sloth's a cleaver little snake in the grass but his dumb ass can barely get two words out at you without you sucker punching him. You expect me to believe you two had a convincing little heart to heart where you talked you into helping him kill YOUR brother? The only reason you're here?"

"I-Its tr-"

"Stop lying to me...!" He said. The words were followed with a heavy sigh. Devil was panicked. She looked conflicted.

"Jack, go ah-"

"N-No no no no no no! Pl-Please!"

"Then tell me!"

She took a deep breath and clenched her remaining first. The crying and sobbing stopped and she slowly worked herself into a glare. A death glare. One she leveled at Fracture.

"Fine. You want to know?"

"Cut the fucking theatrics and just tell me!"

To that, she huffed. "You're precious Fath-"

Before she could finish that thought, she started seizing. Her eyes rolled back and she started vomiting black goo uncontrollably. In quantities far greater than would could feasibly fit into the human stomach... or lungs for that matter. Possible in all of the digestive system! It was a lot. I give it 10 on the vomit scale out of a possible 5. Wicked shit.

I was all tough and brave though this. I didn't even flinch [This isn't true.]. Fracture, however, jumped and yelped like a frightened child.

Terror melted away to understanding. Understanding gave way to rage. I'm told this is how most people function to virtually any new information but I've definitely not see the rage hit these levels of extreme before.

He was so fucking mad.

I can only conclude that since the goo wasn't EAT's ink or Red Cap blood stuff, that the gunk is ichor. Which would mean Father did that to her to silence her... funnily enough, giving himself up in the process.

Devil, fortunately enough, did wake up this morning. We have her tied down but the torture is done... for now.

She seems hesitant to talk now but she might try again if pressed. Vomiting goo seems like an easier death than slowly being burned and cut away after all.

Fracture's in no mood to press her though. We'll let you know whats on the up when he calms his mad ass down.

Until then I think I'm gonna go rub shit in Maggot's bed. He's off training under David Banks with some ginger bitch named M or something.

Apparently, my referring to her as that during the briefing is why Maggot was sent instead of me. I think I'm the one that got the better end of that deal though. I got to torture someone. Maggot's stuck out there babysitting a particularly pampered runner and an old man.

Definitely feels like I won.

Jack out.

So Much Fucking News

Well.

How about... news updates. Lets do the fucking news. New things are fucking fun and exciting. I'm sure you assholes can at least get a kick out of these.

First off Sage news. Rapist the Downer had a little update.

I had Maggot, my ward, a child of 10 spying on Mr. David Banks. Now, before I get a font of criticism, I can assure you that Maggot was in no any real danger. Maggot is quite capable. Maggot has even survived going toe to toe with Nat once. I think that speaks for itself. In fact, given David's extreme pro-children bend right now my little Maggot is probably in the safest place in the world.

I, however, have been threatened to experience quote, "The worst thing I've yet to do to anyone," by Mr. Banks as a result of him catching Maggot in the act. Which sounds unpleasant. Needless to say, there will be no afternoon tea between us any time soon.

To get him to stop sending Maggot away, I had to bribe him. In exchange for taking Maggot in so we may continue to observe and protect vested interests tied to Mr. Banks, I have agreed to double his bounty. Which I did last night rather suddenly without telling anyone. That extra $125,000 is money that all comes directly out of my pocket the day that asshole dies. I hope hes happy.

Now his murder is worth a quarter million. Great Job. Good Luck. Happy Hunting everyone.

...

Second bit of news this week, Couriers are suddenly a thing again. 

Here's hoping they don't implode on themselves again when their pet cross dresser gets murdered out of the blue. Just to keep the stakes high and leave that as a very real possibility I've sent Ivan to serve the group and assist in their efforts, whatever those efforts may be.

...Not that Ivan is a cross dresser mind you. But he is pretty like a girl and I snuck a dress into his luggage so tensions are high! It could happen again. The struggle is real!

And yes, that's right. I sent a proxy to unconditionally assist Couriers. They have limited support from the Free Market. 

We helped negotiate terms of safety to ensure their venture won't be a short lived. No proxy, hollow, or asset of the Free Market will see them done harm from now until the end time. In exchange they are willing to make deliveries from and to proxies. That said, I unfortunately can't guarantee their safety against any non-Free Market assets. But from what I've seen they are a capable bunch. They will undoubtedly manage until the cross dresser dies.

Now, my support of these new Couriers shouldn't really surprise anyone. We here at the Free Market are progressive, better proxies. We made an entire proclamation about it. That should probably get its own little page tab thing or something... 

We're hoping that supporting projects like this will help close the rift that separates Proxies and Runners. We are, after all, all Father's playthings.

...

And our final bit of news for the night is personal news.

That fucking ungrateful, ingrate, ass hat Helrick decided he didn't like the results of our last attempt to fix Picasso. So he took it upon himself to smuggle her out of here under the misguided impression that she would be better off further away from me. He is an idiot. Shes more unstable now than she ever has been before and there is no doubt in my mind that shes gonna kill him.

She may very well kill Moth, Nat, Navi, Sloth, and Vallus while shes at it. There's really no telling. Shes just that unstable.

Helrick did allude to the fact that someone helped them escape. Some else who worked for me. Someone I had already detained by the time he put the post up.

I've had to lock up Devil. Its become clear that shes assisting Sloth in his little coup against me. Even if I could overlook her feeding me drugs and letting me take naps as treatment for a concussion, her helping Picasso escape is a clear indicator of where her loyalties lie. I don't know why, but apparently she wants to see her Brother Duckie dead.

Which is funny. A long time a go she made me promise I would do everything in my power to look out for Duckie. You just never know what crazy stupid thing people are gonna turn around and do.

Shes been insisting that Sloth talked her into helping him but I'm not buying it. She was super into the well being of her brother. There's no way she was simply talked out of it. I think whatever fear is fucking with Picasso got to Devil too.

I'd have whisper forcibly extract the information I need from her to find out who is really behind all this but hes still out of commission and struggling to form words. So we've just resorted to good old fashion torture.

But Devil's a stubborn bitch and has thus far refused to spill. Not surprising, seeing as she is an ex-drug lord. But we can hurt her as much as we want for as long as we want as long as we have her in this loop. Little Jack has been having a lot of fun removing layers of muscle and skin. I'd probably have Maggot working on it too if the little shit was still around. 

Rest assured though, we will get our answers.

I'm quite done fucking around. This will be settled.

The Lord Guardian Fracture out.