tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-819992940024741562024-02-19T11:03:44.952-05:00Clockwork CrowSeven for a secret, not to be told.Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.comBlogger190125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-15027460821182784202011-11-01T12:05:00.002-04:002011-11-01T13:59:24.092-04:00The End<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">I can't believe I'm actually writing here. I never expected this to happen. I honestly expected her to be posting to mine not this way.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">My name's Aiden Clarke. I'm a close friend to Branwen. She was practically my little sister. She turned 19 this year, you know? She was strong. Good head on her shoulders. Really intelligent. She knew what she was doing. So why is it that I'M the one writing on HER blog. It shouldn't have been this way. But it is.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">If you follow this blog, then you already know, we were in quite a predicament with Slender Man and his creeps. Running, fighting. We just needed to get the hell out of dodge. When this all started and we parted ways, we exchanged log in information for our blogs. If something happened to one of us, we'd let everyone know by posting to the other's blog.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Well, I'm here to tell you. Branwen's dead. She's gone. My little sis is gone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Slender Man got her. He killed her. She was only 19. She had so much to live for. So much life left in her. And she's gone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">….and so, I promise to you. I'm going to fight for her in every way imaginable. I will fight for her. I will get my revenge one way or another. I'll do this. I swear it.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">I love you Branwen. I'll miss you sis. Stay safe wherever you go in the afterlife.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Rest in Peace</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Branwen Whelan</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">April 13th, 1992 – October 31, 2011</span></span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-36693332791501634932011-10-31T00:23:00.000-04:002011-10-31T00:23:26.846-04:00The Lone Wolf<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I must have fallen asleep at some point...or I was caught off guard. The last I remember I was in a coffee shop.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I woke up about 15 minutes ago in the backseat of the car. The car I left behind.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">My laptop was sitting on the floor, along with a pile of red and black feathers. Some of them had spots of blood.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">First thought? "Think optomistically. Maybe I fell asleep somewhere and Todd put me back in the car."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">And then I remembered that I left the car in Missouri.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">"Maybe Todd found the car, drove it to the edge of Kansas where I was, found me, and put me in it."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">But then where was he?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I sat up fully, looked in the front seats...and found a disemboweled fox sitting in the driver's seat.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Out the windshield, I saw Him. His head snapped up to acknowledge me looking out the window, and then He vanished.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">My laptop tells me I'm still in Missouri. That...thing...it also left crow feathers littering the parking lot.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Am I the only one left?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm going to pull myself together enough to drive out of here. Alex taught me enough on our way down here-</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'll never see him again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm going back now, Aiden. As fast as I can. I'm driving to the closest public transport possible and dumping this fucking car.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm all that's left now. Everyone is dead.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">...time to join the rest of the survivors.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-85461401146693737332011-10-30T18:11:00.002-04:002011-10-30T22:02:46.776-04:00Showdown<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We stopped in Missouri late afternoon yesterday. Left the car in the parking lot of a plaza. Alex and I needed more gas and supplies.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">By the time we came back, this was on the hood of the car...</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrkHbULC97_wFktws-ddmTVVkH1eV1lmghtALjU8xUiuIY0kUqcMZui_ZZKULnZHvYb5Izz_iJTFjxa7tFti2Di6zGQNXOGD7vHcki6JSgaLwwOU1tHy9Q40viRhNwan62kz20-E5ZkE/s1600/IMG_3371.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrkHbULC97_wFktws-ddmTVVkH1eV1lmghtALjU8xUiuIY0kUqcMZui_ZZKULnZHvYb5Izz_iJTFjxa7tFti2Di6zGQNXOGD7vHcki6JSgaLwwOU1tHy9Q40viRhNwan62kz20-E5ZkE/s320/IMG_3371.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">All the pieces are sitting on this desk in the library I'm hiding in...just staring at them...</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">All my best friends. She killed them.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">...I have never felt so angry...too angry to even be sad...and now...just numb.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Now I wait. Alex took a short nap so that he'd wake up as Todd. He's going to confront her.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Todd told me to abandon the car, head to a halfway point, let him know my general location, and wait for him there.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">If I don't hear from him by midnight, I need to go back to Oregon.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">He left around 8:00 this morning.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">...please come back.</span></div>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-63269096918584465922011-10-21T02:10:00.001-04:002011-10-21T02:11:05.210-04:00Panicking...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Casey's gone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Not gone as in dead. I mean we can't find her and I-</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm having a really hard time not freaking out right now. She's like my sister. I don't know what I'll do if something happens to her.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We joked we were half-sisters once on like...Jinopets or something. Everyone believed us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">She's been trying to call Danielle since we got here. The last update I got about it...just two hours ago at midnight...Casey had received a voicemail, covered her mouth with her hand, and started crying.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">She wouldn't tell us what happened.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">She went to go to the bathroom to wash her face. She didn't come back. She got out somehow, or she was taken or...ohgodIdon'tknow.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Todd thinks that she left to find Danielle and Madden...but...why wouldn't she tell anyone?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Why wouldn't she tell <i>me</i>?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We're getting ready to head out now. It's extremely stupid and extremely dangerous, but I'm not leaving my best friend and Todd's not letting another one of us die.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We're coming Casey.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">...please be okay.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-85036530602954099862011-10-08T17:54:00.000-04:002011-10-08T17:54:00.253-04:00Then there were three.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I let them grieve. They've all been strong long enough. We are but three now. It has taken awhile, but I think we're all ready to get back on our feet.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Branwen had tried frantically to get ahold of her brother after...they died. She had no success. It seems that Alexander must be a substitute sibling for her. However I cannot allow him to be here now. Alex cannot function well enough yet in an emergency.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">It is now up to me to keep the three of us alive. I must keep them safe. I have already failed Seth and Skyler...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We are truly sorry for the lack of any sort of update on this. As far as the phone and computer go...you can blame the Crow Queen. The Morrigan. The filthy, dirty bird who has blood on more than just her hands. She is wading in it. Basking in the body count, most likely.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">This is my fault...I told Branwen we could help her friend and now look. There is not a single damn thing we can do about her except...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">...it is hard for me to accept killing her if I can still remember when she used to be a person. And that's my fault too. I am part of the reason she isn't a person anymore.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">That means I am part of the reason Seth and Skyler are dead.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We had been in Oregon, if but for a mere two days. We had moved because of the threat of The Morrigan. She had, of course, followed us and we would by no means want her complicating things any more than she already had as we tried to find Aiden.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We should not have moved. We played right into her blood covered talons.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">She had perfected her illusion and we fell into it once more. It was easier to break with the knowledge that we knew what it was, but much harder to hold it off as we kept running into it time and time again. And it was not healthy. None of them had said anything about it, but The Morrigan's illusionary art is based off of what makes parallel travel possible, and if you remember correctly it is not safe for anyone not affiliated with Him to remain in it. The initial desert ruse was not powerful enough for any deadly side effects to occur, but it left them sore and hurting. This new repeated exposure was starting to greatly damage their health.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">The parallel also blocks off all electronic communication, at least when used correctly.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We tried to answer the phone several times...all in vain.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">She struck on the 30th. I was awake at the time. I was the only one not feeling the effects of the parallel, but the other four were too weak for what happened next.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">She struck Skyler first. Just one blow was lethal enough to bring the Panda down. Thankfully, for both Seth and Skyler's sake, she died not long after the head injury. She did not suffer for long.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I have never seen Seth enraged. I could not even imagine the Buck fighting back with murderous intent. He was holding up well against The Morrigan's remaining army (I suspect she has been killing some of her minions off for sport). I tried to get to him. I had been defending the Wolf.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I was a fraction of a second too late. The knife was already in his neck. Another second later, and we had lost Seth as well.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">This seemed to satisfy The Morrigan well enough, and she drew back with whatever proxies we had not killed or rendered unconscious.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">...to leave the remaining two of the original five to wallow in sorrow. The weight of it all finally collapsed on them. I could do nothing of any sort of consolation. I thought Alex might be better suited for the task, but he could not bear it either.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We buried them not long after.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">And then we were quiet for a long time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I allowed Alex to be conscious earlier today because he told me he had an idea. He had taken the girls into a pet store so they could see the puppies.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">They have not genuinely smiled in such a long time. It was good to see that. Alex is much better at handling emotional matters than I.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We will arrive in Oregon shortly. The phone is working now, Aiden. The remaining three of us are relatively healthy, physically speaking. I don't know what to say about our collective mental state. I'm sorry.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">This is my fault.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I'm not going to let anymore of us die.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">But for now, we need to rest.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-31698703031245255482011-09-05T13:43:00.000-04:002011-09-05T13:43:08.389-04:00I...am no doctor.<div style="color: #8e7cc3;">I don't even know if I put these stitches in Alex's head right. Or if he needs them. He probably doesn't. I probably just stuck a needle through his forehead about eight times for no reason.<br />
<br />
Nathan got cut on his head once and he needed stitches so...I did it like the ER did with my hand that one time I accidentally stabbed myself. (That's why I usually avoid sharp things...)<br />
<br />
We were never lost. I mean we were, but not the way we thought we were. Turns out giving dear sweet Morrigan a good crack in the skull cleared that whole matter up.<br />
<br />
She came for Skyler like the code said. Several times, in fact. We did a good job defending and staying relatively out of harm's way until last night. She came with more backup than anticipated. Todd got hit in the head pretty hard. He's okay. Perfectly fine, probably, considering Alex is the one living with the headache and the needle wounds.<br />
<br />
Seth was actually the one to drive her back and break whatever illusion she had cast. As her cronies ran off, I saw him standing over Skyler with the metal bat and a groggy Morrigan crawling to her feet to run away. And things looked different.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">They looked different because we were back in the real world, and not her desert playground.<br />
<br />
Aside from all that commotion, we're alright. As far as I can tell, we're close to Oregon.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">No more unpleasant interruptions. Please.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-44989596201717780822011-08-30T21:34:00.001-04:002011-08-30T21:36:49.080-04:00Directionally Challenged (Among Other Things...)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Okay. We uh...we aren't in Oregon yet. Uhm...there's a couple reasons for that.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We decided making a straight shot from Montana to Portland might be dangerous because we said we were going to do it, so we decided to confuse things and mess up the whole intended route. This sounded like a good idea.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">This was not a good idea.</span><br />
<br />
MDExMDAwMDEgMDEwMDAxMDEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDEwMDExMDEgMDEwMTAxMDAgMDEwMDAxMDEgMDAxMTEwMDAgMDExMDAxMTEgMDEwMTAxMDAgMDEwMDAxMDEgMDExMDExMDAgMDEwMTAxMDEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDEwMDAxMDEgMDExMTEwMDAgMDExMDExMDAgMDEwMDEwMDEgMDEwMDAxMDEgMDEwMDEwMTAgMDEwMDAxMTAgMDEwMTAwMDEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDEwMDEwMDEgMDAxMTExMDE=<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We aren't totally sure where we are now.</span><br />
<br />
OTcgODMgMTAwIDc4IDczIDY5IDc4IDgwIDg0IDg1IDEwOCA3OSA4MiAxMjEgNjYgNzEgODQgNDkgNzMgMTAzIDg3IDg1IDU3IDg2<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Except it's somewhere extremely sandy and dry. We're getting really shitty wifi. We haven't seen any signs in a while.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">But deserts are supposed to be safer, right? That's what M said, I think. Treeless places and out on the water is good.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We don't have a boat. So we're camping here until we find a town or something.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Sandy and treeless is safe. It's okay to sleep here...</span><br />
<br />
NTEgNmIgNTYgN2EgNTYgNDMgNDIgNTUgNTQgNzkgNDIgNTggNTEgNTYgNTIgNDQgNjEgNDMgNDIgNTggNTMgNDcgNTYgNzkgNTIgNTMgNDIgNWEgNTQgMzEgNTUgNjcgNTUgMzAgNzggNmMgNTIgNTYgNDEgNjcgNTQgNDUgNmMgNTUgNTYgNDUgNzggNDYgNDkgNDUgNGEgNDYgNTEgNTYgNDkgM2Q=<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">We got jumped again. I have to keep saying that to myself. The radio keeps cutting out. That doesn't make me feel better.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">And we got hurt this time. Nothing broken on anyone. But lots of cuts. And bruises.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">It was coming out of Colorado. We knew where we were then. We've just been on this road for awhile and no signs or anything. But like...Colorado and it's trees...it's so pretty there. I definitely wouldn't knock it for a vacation spot. It was nice. But that fucking forest...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">It was in the middle of the road blocking our path. Seth revved the engine. Casey punched him in the shoulder. "Uhm, where did that get Jack and Stephanie when they tried it? Don't you dare."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I was amazed she remembered that but I wasn't about to point that out. Alex and I picked up the bats at our feet.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">And they were on us. They had something lit on fire and were preparing to throw it. We did not waste any more time staying in the car. It was jump out and meet them and the monster or risk the entire vehicle possibly exploding.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">It turned out that the flaming object was filled with tacks and small stones, so when it exploded we got rained on. That's the scratches.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">The rest was just fighting off the bastards. It didn't step in once. It just watched. It didn't do anything until I saw Alex standing in front of it huffing and dragging his bat. And then it just let out the horrible screeching sound. And all the crow proxies left.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Alex doesn't know what happened, but he had a horrible migraine so he thinks Todd was responsible.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">This is the longest the radio's been on since I started typing. Huh.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm suspicious.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Two of us keep watch, the rest sleep, switch two hours later. That's our plan.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">For right now, dinner time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;">Let's hope it's a peaceful night...</span><br />
<br />
MDEwMTAwMTEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDEwMTAwMDEgMDExMDAxMTEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDAxMTAwMDAgMDExMDExMDAgMDEwMDExMDEgMDEwMTAxMDAgMDEwMDAwMTEgMDEwMDAwMTAgMDEwMDAwMTEgMDEwMTAwMTAgMDEwMTAwMTEgMDEwMDAwMTAgMDEwMTAwMDAgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDExMDEwMTEgMDEwMTAxMTAgMDEwMTAwMTEgMDEwMDEwMDEgMDEwMDAxMTAgMDEwMDExMTAgMDEwMTAwMDAgMDEwMTAxMDAgMDAxMTAwMDAgMDAxMTAxMDAgMDAxMTExMDE=Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-70144344766312210132011-08-24T11:49:00.000-04:002011-08-24T11:49:32.380-04:00Montana<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">We're somewhere in the south western part of it, we think. It's only about 60 right now, so Seth and Bran are freezing their tiny butts off. It's been 80 to 90 where we're from. At least we aren't here in the middle of winter. Wouldn't that suck?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">We've stopped trying to think about Aiden's latest revelation. It's too confusing to wrap our heads around. Psychology is some intense stuff. See, I might know a thing or two about what's going on right no- wait no I wouldn't. Because I would have started college in September. Whelan would have started tomorrow. Seth would already be in his senior year of high school, starting yesterday.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">We think we're going to make it to Oregon late tonight or early tomorrow. We're following like...a weird pattern to confuse things if anyone's following us. At least we get to see a lot of stuff this way. We're also running out of packed food, so it might be time to go out and get some more. And do the laundry again. Alex, Seth, and Skyler got distracted by a fountain in another city we stopped out at and decided to secretly remove coins from it, so now we have a metric fuck ton of quarters we don't know what to do with. We've been shoving some in vending machines we pass. Surprise free food/soda to whoever finds it! (They're good for laundry too, I guess. I GUESS.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Last night we had a sort of "party" with a little late night picnic and some sparklers we found. Because Branwen likes fire and if it's within her reach good luck getting it off of her. It's amazing she's not a pyromaniac by now. But yeah...just celebrating the fact that Aiden's still alive. We're comin' to see you soon, bro.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Oh dammit. Now I'm using Seth's speech pattern too...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">I guess we were also celebrating that we've somehow graduated from spazzy teenagers to mother fucking ninjas. Or crow proxies are just really uncoordinated. Either way, we were jumped earlier last night too. Something else that should be noted: Branwen and I are straight up dangerous with blunt instruments. Look out.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">It reared it's ugly stupid head a few times on our journey too. We're still alive, so we're not going to freak out about it. Its jackassery can be ignored for now.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">I think that's all for now. We're going to go into town for supplies (maybe grab a couple baseball bats) and then head out.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">See you later, folks.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-23543073932277981232011-08-16T09:58:00.000-04:002011-08-16T09:58:45.824-04:00How should we feel?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Everything about Aiden, I mean. We started moving west towards Oregon, but Branwen (of all people) made us stop.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Because...we'll never catch him and we probably won't change his mind even if we do.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Which is completely reasonable and makes sense, but the idea of letting one of our friends voluntarily go towards death doesn't sit well with any of us...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">I'm posting here because as long as I'm with the group, there's really no reason to post on Todd's blog, is there?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We're somewhere in Colorado now. I'm not sure of the exact route we're taking. It's a bunch of confusing loops and turns. (I thought zigzagging only applied to running...)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We've caught sight of a our missing persons reports. We're trying to keep out of sight. I was sent in to buy a bunch of hair dye and cosmetics in a store a little ways back. Right now Casey and Bran are working on Skyler's hair which is...um...no longer a nice natural blonde.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We haven't heard anything about the FBI becoming involved yet. Right now, we don't care. No news is good news right?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">We still...don't know what to do...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-4010568387702266962011-08-11T21:19:00.000-04:002011-08-11T21:19:01.113-04:00This isn't happening...<span style="color: #674ea7;">Please just...I thought it would be better...we were doing so well and...everything was okay and nothing bad happened and...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://fatheriscoming.blogspot.com/2011/08/faith-rewarded.html">I think I'm going to be sick...</a>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-91550194888993437182011-08-09T23:24:00.001-04:002011-08-09T23:57:38.905-04:00Adventure Time<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Because that's what Seth keeps shouting any time anyone utters the phrases "leaving", "running", or other related words.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Good on ya for trying to keep our spirits up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">We didn't plan to stay at Ai's this long, but then the thing with Brennon happened and yeah. You know.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">But it's time to go now. It's stopped raining so much, so it's safer to drive. Bran's running around saying her goodbyes. And then we'll be off. Where? Who knows? Pick a direction and drive.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Ohgodthisstorm. I do not want to be driving in it. For Bran and Seth and Alex it's like the most exciting thing ever. Like we're in a movie and this is some climatic scene where we run away. Thunder rolling, rain pouring, lightning flashing, and a siren - oh yeah there's a siren going off. This adventure scene comes complete with all the bells and whistles.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Alex is upset because he hasn't been able to post his adventure yet and he wants to tell everyone all about it. He'll have to wait until we've stopped somewhere. Cool your jets, Alex.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">But...I guess this is it. We're </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">ready to go</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Thanks so much, Aiden and Brennon and Malkin and Chas. And Taben, when he was stable...and Ryan when he was alive. For everything. From all of us.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">Here's hoping you here from us soon.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-60454976823929486742011-08-03T17:13:00.000-04:002011-08-03T17:13:11.508-04:00"Dear Diary..."<div style="color: #674ea7;">"...Alex has the potential to be a bad ass. Todd must be so proud."</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">He's so happy with himself right now. A couple times he's realized the powers he used were dark and he didn't necessarily like them, but then he would remember that he helped save someone's life and he'd go off on a happy spree again.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Nobody has the right to ruin this for him, and if they do I will deck them.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">If feel like we're almost the same person, except he's a guy and he has none of his original friends left. Well that's okay. Because we're adopting him into our group.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-87775771221278352362011-08-02T12:52:00.000-04:002011-08-02T12:52:03.714-04:00Packing Up<div style="color: #0b5394;">Everyone's up here at Seth's loading the car. We made sure neither of his parents were home to see us doing it.</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #0b5394;">I guess we're going to get Alex/Todd/Whoever's Awake At The Time when we get up to Aiden's.</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #0b5394;">We don't think these stupid spray bottles of salt and holy water actually do anything anymore. I'm starting to think they never did anything in the first place. It's just all false hope, like the Constants and the salt circles and everything else we tried. It won't hurt to bring them, though.</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #0b5394;">If we leave in about...20 minutes...we should be there by at 2:00 at the latest. We think. We'll see how it goes. Once we get there we can get the rest of this stuff settled, maybe camp there for a day, and then head out.</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #0b5394;">I just saw Aiden's most recent post...and the comment Taben left on it...color me concerned.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-73793229258405652052011-07-30T11:32:00.000-04:002011-07-30T11:32:39.755-04:00The Decision<div style="color: #674ea7;">We've been at Casey's the past couple of days. Before that, we decided we needed a meeting and where we should have it.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Among sporadic naps and panic attacks, we've decided this: We will go to Aiden's. And then we're getting the hell out of Dodge.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">The original plan has been revised. We're all going together. No splitting up. And we're taking Alex and Todd with us, because otherwise we're just four stupid kids making an easy meal for a monster.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">We're packing up Seth's van with everything we have. Seth and Casey's stored wages plus the graduation money Casey and I both received, nonperishable food, a few changes of clothes, Seth's laptop...</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">We should get new phones, if we'd like to have phones at all. Try to stay off the radar. We don't know yet.<br />
<br />
Aiden, if it's all right with you I mean, would it be okay to have...not a party. Not a huge thing. Just...a little thing...so we can all have a little bit of closure for Sam and Dean...and Sammi...and for Lance?<br />
<br />
We get that it's probably very dangerous to go up there, but honestly...now...it's dangerous everywhere. Better we're all together, right? Like a family. Just let us know if/when its okay to move up there.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">Love you, bro.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-22043630113547625022011-07-23T01:24:00.000-04:002011-07-23T01:24:34.345-04:00Down to 4<div style="color: #783f04;">You know. Without Todd or Alex or whatever...</div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04;">Guys I'm so sorry. I should have just left and gone with you. I don't know what I could have done but...</div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #783f04;">Good bye, Sammi.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-5755702288450461692011-07-22T13:48:00.000-04:002011-07-22T13:48:54.641-04:00SON OF A BITCH<span style="color: #674ea7;">SAMMI ANSWER YOUR GODDAMN PHONE.</span><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><span style="color: #674ea7;">I can't get out of this house and Seth's at work. MOVE TODD MOVE.</span><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><span style="color: #674ea7;">I don't know what's happening...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-85465777275418765782011-07-16T21:22:00.000-04:002011-07-16T21:22:08.415-04:00We are seriously terrible at keeping an eye on one another.<div style="color: #674ea7;">While Allen was missing (yes we saw and heard) we had our own huge problems.<br />
<br />
Like my brother deciding to go out for walks in the wilderness. By himself. Because Keri moved to Texas for a job at an aquarium and now nobody's up there to keep watch on him.<br />
<br />
I suppose he wanted to try and make his own creepy movies and move into a new artistic medium. That APPEARS to be what he was going for.<br />
<br />
Oh and then he went missing. Which is basically...he talked to Keri on the phone, told her he was going for a walk to get more footage, went on said walk, and then did not call her back. And nobody heard from him all day that day. But then he was back the next day.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">And then he said, "Oh my phone was just being weird." </div><div style="color: #674ea7;"> </div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Yes. Okay, Nick. God I need to figure out a way to get him to stop. The easiest way would be to just say, "Listen. This is only going to lead to terrible things and I don't want anyone else to be in the same boat as me." But my brother's not as simple as that.<br />
I can't sit here and hope he's not going to delve deeper into the Mythos. He will.<br />
<br />
But that entire mystery of him "missing" was quickly resolved and is not really the issue I was talking about at all.<br />
<br />
<br />
No. That's Casey's sister Danielle. And little Madden. And that entire situation is starting to grow more and more out of control because now Danielle doesn't argue with Madden about her "imaginary friend". Because Danielle sees Him too. Or It/Thing. One of them. It doesn't really matter which it is does it? Because neither of them is a good sign.<br />
<br />
But oh wait no. That's not the thing really.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The really bad thing is Sammi hasn't really talked to anyone since the fourth. I was with Skyler and Seth recently, and Seth told me Sammi's been holing herself up lately.<br />
<br />
I told Alex, told him to forward that message to Todd and see if he could maybe get a hold of Crow.<br />
<br />
Todd managed to talk to Crow in a civilized manner for a very short space of time, but basically got that the Raven's crossing paths of madness with the Crow and that Raven and Crow are one in the same.<br />
<br />
Or something. It sounded terrible, whatever he said.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm having a really hard time focusing and organizing all of this because it's just so...there's so many people.<br />
<br />
Aiden and Brennon and Taben and Allen. Now Malkin and Chastin. Sam and Dean. Alex and Todd might as well count as two people. Mr, Casey, Seth, Skyler, and Sammi. Crow. Skye/The Morrigan. All of our friends that are now mindless slaves. I'm not even totally sure of how many people that is.<br />
Danielle and Madden. My brother.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"></div><div style="color: #674ea7;"></div><div style="color: #674ea7;"></div><div style="color: #674ea7;"></div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">The police. We've seen a lot of them lately. At least we don't seem like suspects, but the entire thing makes even less sense to them on our end of the spectrum because what happened to us seems completely unrelated to what happened at Aiden's.<br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I need to just...sit down and try to organize all of this. If there were ever any time to do that. Right now we need to try to talk to Sammi. She's stopped answering her phone and replying to texts. And you know...a round table would be great. A round table in real life rather than online would be even better. Let's do that. We'll do that.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
Dear Alex/Stupid-face/Todd,</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">That also means you. You are in this discussion.<br />
<br />
<br />
I think...I think that's....everything? Oh god. I'm having the hardest time following our own problems, much less everything insane that's going on with Ai.<br />
<br />
Jesus guys I'm sorry. At least you're all okay and you got the little one.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">P.S. Malkin is totally a kitten.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-3028465357242901592011-07-10T00:15:00.001-04:002011-07-10T00:15:30.907-04:00This shouldn't happen to us.<span style="color: #38761d;">But I guess it did. And we're just going to have to roll with it.<br />
<br />
I guess we're less a force against humans than supernatural abominations. Aside from my ankle getting injured again (or worse, I should say, it's been a continual injury for a year now), and some emotional trauma, I'm okay.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Bran didn't have any fractures, just some bad bruises. She has her own special way of dealing with things, so I think she's okay.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Seth and Skyler have each other. They're fine. Bran just saw them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">By 'okay' and 'fine' I mean we can all function. If we're in this deep now, then I guess we'd better get used to tragedy. We've already lost several friends, some are dead and some are mindless slaves. And...Ryan. And then Mateo. The phrase, "better get used to death" should not apply to a bunch of normal happy kids with normal happy lives. Ever.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Sammi doesn't seem okay at all...we've been trying to call her. She's holing herself up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Whelan's brother came home, and I guess he's suffering effects of Marble Hornets. You know, the whole looking over the shoulder tick that everyone gets. She's keeping a close eye on him.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">And I'm keeping a close eye on MJ.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Last thing we need is more people getting sucked into this...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-86007028957041163902011-07-04T23:56:00.000-04:002011-07-04T23:56:30.987-04:00There's so much blood...<div style="color: #674ea7;">It's all over the yard and Sammi won't stop crying about Skye and Alex is trying to find some way to wake Todd up and Skyler won't let go of Seth and I'm crying too and so is Casey and-</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Can Skye even be saved now, Todd?</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">It's...we have to get out of here. Soon. This is the third tragedy that...wait...three for a wedding...no that probably doesn't mean anything.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">The police are baffled and I think they think we're being stalked too and that it's connected to Aiden's problems and-</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I'd never been able to roll before. When I was in karate, they were trying to teach me to roll for my yellow belt. And I couldn't.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Somebody hit me hard. And I went down. But I rolled. And I got right back up and delivered a solid punch to that fucker's face.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I rolled. I did something right today...</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Not all of us know self defense. Seth, Skyler, and Casey need patched up. I do too, even. I can't breathe without it hurting some. I might have a fractured rib from the hit I took...</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I just...the police and...what are we going to do?</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">It's not your fault, Aiden. We're just...we're just in such terrible...</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">We're going to need one long ladder to get out of this hole...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-36871352468445570262011-07-04T10:28:00.001-04:002011-07-04T10:29:10.888-04:00owwwwwwwwwwwwww<div style="color: #8e7cc3;">That's what all of my limbs are saying today. D:<br />
<br />
No, it doesn't have anything to do with Eldritch abominations.<br />
<br />
I was playing Grifball yesterday with the guys and now I am in much expected pain. That game is intense.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">I guess we're going up to Aiden's for the 4th. If something happens, at least we'll all be together. And hey! maybe I can actually get some sleep!<br />
<br />
Which is what I was doing today. No interruptions from It or Slenderp. No nightmares. I was able to sleep off my battle wounds (ie. huge welt and bruise on leg, lots of sore spots, some scrapes) in peace.<br />
<br />
And then mom wakes me up because she needs computer assistance. Let me just yank something from Todd for a second...</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><a href="http://trickerymyvicegoodwillmyvirtue.blogspot.com/2011/03/profile.html">- You are easily frustrated by the combination of your parents and technology.</a></div><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">WHY YES. YES I AM.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Too late to go back to bed now. Better take some more Advil.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;">Oh and hey, </span><a href="http://thegearhound.tumblr.com/" style="color: blue;">what's this here?</a>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-510175738898379462011-07-02T23:38:00.000-04:002011-07-02T23:38:30.641-04:00She's a murderer.<div style="color: #8e7cc3;">Skye. The Morrigan.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">I didn't think she was the one that did it. I thought it was It.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"> Nothing happened, at least not a huge major kind of thing that would have involved all family and friends present. Something definitely happened, but the only people left were Casey, Seth, Skyler, Sammi, Alex, Jonnie, Jason, and Paul. The latter three of which are ignorant to our problems. I would like it to remain that way.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">Anyway, they were all inside. I was outside by myself checking the far side of the building to see if any trash was outside. And then there was a fluttering sound. And The Morrigan, one of the people I specifically said wasn't invited (jesus why don't people ever listen), is looking down at me from a tree. She removes just enough of her mask to taunt me with Skye's face, grinning wickedly. And then she hops down, picks up a baseball bat that was lying in the field, takes a <strike>Rat</strike> rat out of her pocket, pins its tail to the tree she was standing on...<br />
<br />
And then...and then while the <strike>Rat</strike> rat is still squealing...she just begins smashing it with the bat. Crushing its skull...and giggling...</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">The Morrigan killed Rat.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">Skye killed Rat.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">And then she pulled out a little American flag, planted it in the ground, smiled, replaced her mask, and then vanished in a flurry of crimson and black feathers. They burned the leaves and furns they touched as they floated down and vanished.<br />
<br />
What I failed to notice in my stupor is that Alex had run out to check on me, realizing that I was outside by myself. He witnessed enough to understand what happened. Alex gently took the rat off the tree and laid it somewhere in the forest where it wouldn't be found by the owner of the building. Then he looked at me apologetically.<br />
<br />
"You're right. As much of a dick as he was, he didn't deserve that," he said. He pushed me a little back towards the building.<br />
<br />
"I can't believe she..." I knew I was lying to myself. I knew she would kill someone eventually. She wasn't Skye anymore. It was only a matter of time before she got past the vandalism with my other friends turned proxies.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry about your friend."<br />
<br />
"It's not your fault, Alex."</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">"But it is. Kind of."</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">"No, that was Todd, and even then it wasn't really his fault."</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">"...still."</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">"I know. Thanks though."</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">The rest of the night went without incident. I had to wait for the last normal person to leave so I could take everyone upstairs to tell them what happened.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">My chief concerns are these: 1.) Something feels like it's going to happen on the 4th. 2.) That smashed rodent might also have a double meaning, Aiden. Please be extra careful.</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;">I'm going to try to get some sleep. I might just end up with more incessant tentacle tapping on my window though. And more "staring". At least It stays outside</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #8e7cc3;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">...please don't say I just jinxed myself...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-18845407222158972302011-07-02T08:41:00.000-04:002011-07-02T08:41:42.618-04:00It's party day...<div style="color: #674ea7;">Alex is here. I explained to mom that he's a friend I met through Casey. That was apparently sufficient enough. He'll be riding over to the place with us and helping me set up. </div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">If nothing happens today, then if we're having that 4th of July party it'll <i>definitely</i> happen then.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I'd rather It do something then. It'll just be our gang and Ai's, and we'll at least be prepared.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">....crossing my fingers...please don't show up today...and The Morrigan and her friends aren't invited either.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-54199184093604172322011-06-26T12:52:00.000-04:002011-06-26T12:52:26.152-04:00He's her best friend.<div style="color: #38761d;">That guy Madden sees. I talked to her about it a long time ago, and she swore up and down that she had no imaginary friend, despite what I told her her mom said.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Her little kid mind must have forgotten that she was supposed to be pretending she didn't have one, because she recently brought him back up. Or Him. It must be Him. She only sees her friend at my house. She says he's a tall skinny man.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">My niece...my toddler niece...is seeing Slenderman.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">I am not the only one having problems regarding family on this matter. Whelan just went up to her brother's art show yesterday. He said he tried getting into the whole Marble Hornets thing (you already know where this is going) and based his recent sculpture on that. As she described it, it was basically a small, creepy, two level room in this warehouse with rickety stairs and a bunch of PVC pipes wired to speakers. The pipes emerged at the top and were blaring all kinds of distorted noise. Also there were copious amounts of our favorite symbol.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">We're hoping he doesn't get any further into it. I mean, watching that shouldn't be enough to draw His attention, right?</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">She had something else to say about the art show. I'll just copy and paste it.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">I now know full well the amount of creepy a warehouse possesses. And it wasn't even just that room. That room was terrible, but the whole thing is like this old, dirty, scary building. It's not abandoned or anything. They still use it for shipping. But it's like...imagine that while in a labyrinth of sorts, and then you sort of understand how Zeke felt.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d;">I think there's pictures somewhere...</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">I'm also here to tell you that we'll all be busy with life and Slenderp, and Whelan won't be back until Wednesday. She'll be with her sister in Pittsburgh doing something with a house.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #38761d;">Meanwhile, what am I going to do with my niece...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-56290280274897716042011-06-23T16:09:00.001-04:002011-06-23T16:09:45.206-04:00Grumblegrumblegrumble<div style="color: #674ea7;">I miss my dashboard...and I hate Google...why isn't this fixed yet?</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">For anybody that I haven't talked to in weeks, it's probably because I've been checking blogs based on memory and I honestly cannot recall everything I'm following. I'm really sorry, but every time I try to go to my dashboard it looks like this.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwtXAO7pUqQHLl8iTRnqvZMkYYU4Oy_5w57o2dW07Q0lKd253oyEsI_RITss16doz_1lR9C6aCzPLwge2kqn5kJjZgc-lyzwvnM6iHy9qUFQIkyZvE9tnHKpi0RhY0FbslUILPqpSkCc/s1600/broken+dash.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmwtXAO7pUqQHLl8iTRnqvZMkYYU4Oy_5w57o2dW07Q0lKd253oyEsI_RITss16doz_1lR9C6aCzPLwge2kqn5kJjZgc-lyzwvnM6iHy9qUFQIkyZvE9tnHKpi0RhY0FbslUILPqpSkCc/s320/broken+dash.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #674ea7;"></div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">And I can't really ask for help, because you know...Google's proven SO effective at fixing these things for other people. I'm going to try anyways. What else can I do...</div><br />
<div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Stormecho and Joce. And Elizabeth. You popped back into my memory and I'm going to be catching up on you today. I've been following Beast and trying to understand the poetry...</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Who else am I missing...I don't know...help me out here.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">And of course I'd have an encounter today just a couple hours after Aiden says Its been stalking around more.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Dad trimmed some tree branches today and had me pick them up, put them in a wheelbarrow and dump them in the woods. In. The woods.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I have never been so close to It. And I never want to be ever again.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I threw some branches into the part we made a compost pile and suddenly It was in front of me. Three feet away from me. It wasn't even that close at The Initiation. I let go of the wheel barrow and heard it topple behind me. I took a step back. It wrapped a tentacle around my wrist and suddenly any defiance I had felt moments before was replaced with sheer terror.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">...M was right when he said it burns. Or maybe it's just because I think it's supposed to burn. It hurt.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">A shrill voice echoed through my head screaming something largely incoherent to me about Alexander. It sounded like It was angry about losing Its toy. I needed something to help me put on a brave face, so I took that and ran with it.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">"Are you pissed about losing your toy?" I said in the most taunting voice I could muster, which sounded ineffective being half mingled with fear. My shaky voice was apparently enough to offend It though. Because It did more of the shrill, incoherent yelling. And that sound...is so piercing...<br />
<br />
And then it did something that surprised me. It let me go. And then It held up a mask.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Not a Fox mask. Or Crow mask.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">A Rat mask. Torn and covered in blood. I was going to assume that Rat...or...Jared...was just injured. But I saw hair glued to the mask with blood. And some pieces of white and...it's like his head just exploded. I actually felt slightly angry for him. Rat was a bastard, but he didn't deserve his skull getting blown to pieces.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Meanwhile, Ace was running up to the woods from the front yard and stood defensively by my side, growling. It made a move towards him, but Ace snapped his jaws and I flicked at Its torso with a branch that fell out of the wheelbarrow.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">And then It was gone. Ace got a huge hug, I threw the rest of the branches on the pile, and we went back inside so I could have a mini panic attack and process what just happened.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">In something mildly related to that, I've been talking to Alex since he's been at Aiden's and I've resolved to get him horribly addicted to some of the stuff I listen to too. He mentioned that Todd still sings Panic! songs. A lot. So I've been sending Alex to <a href="http://lapfoxtrax.com/">Lapfox</a>. And now they're annoying each other with their songs. Teehee.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">He's also having a hard time understand all of what Todd does, but I think he's been filled in thus far and now he's just trying to practice. I'm not sure how that's working out for him, other than he said he wanted to punt a baby squirrel yesterday.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Seth, Sammi, and Skyler are gathering supplies. Casey and I holding the fort with It around.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Zeke is with Celeste, Vi, Ava, and Wren. It almost sounds like a sitcom to me. I shouldn't laugh, but the combination of people is hilarious. And Zeke had a good moment. Good for him. He deserves it.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">I guess M's still dealing with that kid? I don't know?</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">Where is Ygg? </div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #674ea7;">And Malkin is with Aiden.</div><div style="color: #674ea7;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #674ea7;">And now to see what the rest of you guys have been up to...I hope you're all okay...</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81999294002474156.post-39116076290827627852011-06-16T22:52:00.000-04:002011-06-16T22:52:13.515-04:00Well then...<div style="color: #38761d;">Evidently the kid fell unconscious at some point because he was sitting in my basement looking very confused. Good thing mom's on vacation and Harry's in Florida for the summer. House to myseeeeelf.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">He said Todd couldn't hear anything and got lost. He also said he doesn't know what means. I told him I don't really know either and Todd's a cryptic bastard so good luck trying to figure out anything he does.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Then we ate sandwiches and we had a Sims marathon.</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><span style="color: #38761d;">I like Alexander. I think I might deck </span><span style="color: #38761d;">Todd</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> in the face every time he's conscious just so I can hang out with this kid.</span>Branwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07102480098066520353noreply@blogger.com1