My judging of character appears slightly impaired when intoxicated. Not a great surprise, on would say, but it was when I was, as said, not quite sober. Also a surprise was that I was on fire.

Or I wasn't. But Tessier made me think it for a moment, either way. I suppose now I know for certain what he does. This was too specific. Teaches me that going back to trying to share some info about myself is bad. No, keeping it all to yourself is good. Keep people topside strangers. Acquaintances at best. All of them. Rene might or might not be an exception to this, seeing as he already knows more about me than I'd like him to.

I must have passed out soon afterwards. Why he just didn't throw me out on the streets is a complete mystery to me. And I don't like it. That was not a pleasant waking up to his voice and.... whoever that was.

I am not a puppy.

... I know I should be staying as far away from that place as possible, but I wonder what would happen if I left a letter to the girl who was there. Desiree? Her question of "Work?" suddenly sounds like opportunity.

... Hell. Emmett. Please tell me he's back in the Tunnels.

I have to keep up with the news, haven't I? I have to keep up with things that might have to do with me. Or my Morlocks. Or anything that could come between the two and safety.

It is this way that I noticed the news of the deaths of two particular people I knew, just now. One was perhaps considered a friend once, then proved herself to be something completely different. And now, she has proved herself dead.

Good things come in twos, right? Perhaps I will find myself a pot of gold later.

And speaking of things that can be found under the rainbow, Jackson appears to have disappeared again. Which might be for the best, since Chloe and him decided to... redecorate my room with hearts and... no matter. It's fixed now. And blue. I suppose it does look a little less gloomy.

I should seek out Rene some time again. Perhaps the boy just ran back there. Or perhaps I was right all along, and it just isn't right.

((OOC: I know I've been horrible with musings lately, I'll try to keep up from now on again))

Remind me why I let him down here again?

Jackson is down in the Tunnels. The way I see it, either something genuinely bad has happened to him, or he is being melodramatic over a spat with Rene. (The latter seems more likely.) Seeing as he appears to be living down here now, I should probably find out one of these days.

I've not been going topside so much, lately. Sometimes I still feel like certain people could be just around the corner, ready to snap another collar on me, or just plain murder me right then and there once I'm already in a host. But it's fine. If Mendel had truly wanted me gone, she'd have tried something else by now. Surely.

Heh. It's strange, when Sparkles used his... whatever it is that he does to imitate my appearance, I realized something. All my life I've been wondering why me, why didn't I stay normal? Perhaps I should have been wondering 'why not him?' Perhaps there was something in his physiology that kept from from mutating. Perhaps I need to look into this. I can't properly dissect him, of course. Not in these conditions. Also, he's my brother. That reason probably should have come first.</i> But it's still interesting. What if he'd have been just like me?

Maybe he got the short straw. What an excellent way to look at things!

From one disconcerting guest to the next. Unfortunately, I don't quite have the, eh, weight to call this one out on it. Doctor Otto Octavius. I'd have said welcome home, but I've never been so sure I did not miss the sound of those tentacles on my Tunnel floor.

I might have taken my anger out on Hopper and Emmett, afterward. Not incredibly fair, but perhaps it's time they came to learn life's not all rosy coloured and sunshine splattered. That was too much of a close call and Octavius knew it. He knew it so bloody well I might as well be grateful just to get it over with.

Not that that will happen, heh. Not in a million years.

Collar's off. And I'm off to a pub.

( "Those sheep. That totally sucks, Zach."(Otto, Emmett, Chloe) )

I can deal with this. I can. I mean, it's not like this collar's hurting me, or physically keeping me from anything that I shouldn't be doing anyway. Perhaps maybe sleep. But I don't really need that. Not really.

Salamander appears to be... suicidal. Really now. There's no need at all for that. She's been neglecting herself and that's all. I should send someone topside to get her some food (and maybe some books on her condition, so I can read up on it). No Morlock of mine will be under the impression they're better off dead than alive.

I've had it with unwelcome visitors!

The audacity to come strolling down here, accusing me, like she was the one in harm's way. I very much doubt that indeed. I don't need her charity, and neither do the rest of us. She'll be sorry if she sets foot down here again.

Strange couple of bloody days. Just... what.

One day I'm convincing Sal to come topside with me for a drink (what? It was her birthday somewhere this month and a good excuse to get that girl outside and maybe get a drink or two - or five - in, is a good excuse) and the next I'm staggering my drunken self along with Bridget for... what was it, beer? Boredom?

Bloody beats me, but there was... fuck. Soon as I got out of my host (God knows how I got convinced to do THAT) here was this guy with a gun. One of those taser things. They take me down fast, of course, because electricity and water hardly mix. But that's not the point, next thing I know he's on top of me trying to snap this collar onto me. Which he bloody did. I've got a collar on me. AGAIN. It's the same as last time, can't get it off and I can't possess anyone. I do not need this. I don't.

Torque was there. Conveniently. Not so conveniently when she started throwing around fire, and I-- Well. At least I got away in the end.

It couldn't have been a coincidence. I was barely out there for ten seconds before that bastard jumped out at me. If I've learned anything at all from recent events, it's not to trust anyone. In any given situation. That's given me enough to deal with lately.

Walke din to a cafe, was gojng to celbrate my VICTPORY. Julien wass there, paid for my drink like he sid last time, and we tlaked and there was eDward 40 Hands and
Stole his hands. Or the waite.r

still have one,m thoiugh. Hah! i win.


Later:
God. I slept. I walked home, slept, woke up. Bottle. She. Wasn't. There's fire everywhere. (Still drunk?) It's on me, it's... Is it? Is it? It's on the walls, floor. It is.

... not again.

Ahahaha. Ahaha!

Finally. Finally. God, that felt good. I've wanted to do that for... for... I can't remember how long! I wish I'd had something more effective on me. Maybe something to finish our quarrels indefinitely. Despite what results may come from it.

But no, this'll do. This is good. This is perfect. Perfect. What if he dies? Even MORE perfect! Perfect either way.

Finally. Worth the long, horrid wait. Perfect.

Ahahahaha.

New scavenger. Not entirely sure about this one, though he'll be a good way to scare off potential visitors. He'd do well to stick close, even if he's so obviously under the impression he can take care of himself. Just wait, though, until someone comes after him. He'll need a pack.

Heh. Alpha.

( '... and you've got to be the strangest thing I've seen. Bar none.' (Thalin) )

It appears things outside are quietening topside. This means I was right. Then again, I seem to have a knack for being right, lately. Nevertheless, the Frenchie came by to check on the the guard plant and it seems it's... shedding? Are plants even supposed to do that? Then again, the day normality rears its ugly head here in the Tunnels is the day I see pigs fly.

I was in a sour mood, but picking on him a little helped. He was in his prancy little outfit, that just begs to be made fun of. 'Hero'. Psh. Emmett came down, too. I had a feeling he'd like Seymour. Which is probably why I hadn't told him. The walls don't need more falling apart.

Things are getting increasingly quiet down here. I haven't much ventured outside of my own excuse for a room, and by the sound of things above (and the stories of the few Morlocks who still bother coming back down here) affairs are only getting worse.

Of course, there are some who stay pretty much nonplussed about the whole thing. Excited, even. I suppose I may as well let myself be dragged along into some potential danger. That school always means danger, aliens or not.

The earth is... being attacked? Prepared? I know I should be feeling a bit more... sentimental than this, but unfortunately I just don't bloody care much. It's not like I can do anything about it, apart from maybe giving my bother a ring to see how things are over there. I should be scared, but that appears to be a hard feat to accomplish without a host. I'm staying underground, either way.

This can't be the end of things.

It is always fun to puzzle the Frenchie. Always. No exception. Getting my face slobbered over by that woman? ... Well, it wasn't like she wasn't doing that anyway.

I think my trip has done me good, if only because I seem to have realized that people are, indeed, disposable. With very few exceptions. Anything that might have happened will have been undone. Why didn't I see that before? I am not limited. I am the exact opposite. Now... if only my other fears had roots just as shallow as this one.

No matter, though. One step at a time is the trick.

Seems as though things are still going their merry way while I'm over here. Here being Vegas. Here being in under the covers, in bed. Here being so comfortable it should be illegal. The last few weeks have had no murdering, no one trying off me, and... pretty much no unpleasant things at all. I did need a break.

Call me crazy, but I'll be back soon. After a speaking with Chloe over the phone, I've realized how I've left people behind among bloody idiots.

Heh. I wonder if I can coax my new friend to come along...

Oz is a bloody psychopath. And coming from me, that's bound to mean something. I was just standing there, making conversation, truly and honestly not trying to aggravate him. Well, maybe a little, but how can you not be a little sarcastic to the man who's beaten you bloody on multiple occasions? Not to mention, the other... thing. Shouldn't have brought her up, should I've? Perhaps not. It's not often than I hate something out of the bottom of my virtually inexistent heart, but these memories? Certainly. And I'd be glad to be rid of them, but they're not bloody going.

And Oz. Couldn't possibly hate him any less, though unlike him I'm smart enough to keep it bottled until the most opportune moment. He'll get his.

People with any kind of super strength shouldn't be allowed to kick other people in the groin.


((OOC note: This scene was done over AIM, and I don't know how often I'll be available on the MU* over the next few weeks. Hopefully I'll be back soon.))

I don't have 'touch phobia'. I don't. She touched my arm, didn't she? Granted the hug was a bit... awkward, but she's all... pregnant and... crud.

And bloody hell, I didn't even get to take my alcohol with me. At least I've got the things I bought for Chloe, Emmett and the rest of the kids.

Don't have touch phobia. And I made perfect sense. Pregnant women are odd. (I'm glad I didn't quite realize what she meant with the couch comment until I'd gone out the door)

'Shiloh'.
Hahaha. I love strangers that run. Though she wasn't particularly scared, but that's okay. I'm thinking she's smart enough to keep her mouth shut. And what more can I do than hope she will, really? Maybe she'll come back, maybe not. If I'm not mistaken, there was... something odd about her. It always is the odd ones that find their way here. That, and the ones coming to look for trouble, but she didn't seem to want any of that.

Emmett, you bloody idiot. Quite literally bloody, though that was probably corn syrup, by the looks of it. Heh. I can hardly blame him for wanting to bring his 'pup' down here, though. Though I do hope he understands not to trust just anyone he comes across. Perhaps we should have a talk some time. Just to make sure he knows.

I'm going to have to make sure I one-up his little 'werewolf' scare anyway. Something about this wolfboy irks me. But he's all alone, he's fuzzier than a forgotten pumpkin a fortnight after Halloween and he has no other place to go. What else could I wish for, in a Morlock? If he is to be one, that is. It's the fear that makes the guard dog, after all.

I've spent the last few days in the Tunnels. It was perhaps not the brightest idea to snag the first person I came across when I finally did go topside. I left him in the same alley when I returned from... from...

Well, I did say I would apologize. And I was bored, that must have been why I went over there in the first place. Must have. I'm not entirely certain whether I was glad the Frenchie wasn't there, or if I am now, but... I'm not really sure about anything. Jackson. His cheery disposition bothers me. Like he's plotting my demise. Just so bloody happy.

He's going to murder me some day. Just you watch.
That, or he'll continue to offer me cookies. Cookies.

It's not just the Den's couches that are upside down, if the Frenchie's awkwardness meant what I suspect. The world doesn't work like this. Might've lost my faith in the big book, but that doesn't mean I've lost my-- Perhaps I'm talking nonsense, now.

And let's face it. He's entertaining. Let alone the fact that he helped me when I was in a bind, a couple of times. Even if the subject makes me squirm, it's not like I'm going to stop anything by not helping. At least I know where to look.

Mister Teapot might get an apology, but a doormat he will not.

This whole ring-searching thing is going to feel too bloody familiar for comfort.

Apparently, people are baking me bread now. Or, well, actually it's just Sunset, but I'm still confused. I did get also get a breakfast out of being there, though, which makes things a little better. I continue to wonder why she even bloody trusts me. If she knew me as well as she thinks she does, she wouldn't even bother letting me in.

And I'll get that money some other way. Silly... sober... person of a... something something.

Ran into the tiger girl as well. Uriko. We complained about her excuse for a school for a while, which was a good way to get me back into my good mood. Perhaps. I should have offered to kidnap her for a while. She'd be a good guard-cat. Ha.