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Mar. 30th, 2008

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.

Mar. 28th, 2008

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.


Phone call.

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)


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.