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"I could set your room on real fire."

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.

Scanning the newspapers.

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)Collapse )


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.

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.



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)Collapse )