we throwin' the Egberts a make-up party or what?
it'd be kind of shitty to let last month be the only thing they get for their birthday, wouldn't it?
anyone else in
I can't promise blackjack and hookers
but I can at least promise good tunes and booze
20 April 2013 @ 01:38 am
names of everyone that was compromised, speak 'em if you've got 'em

don't worry your pretty little heads boys and girls
not planning on hunting you all down Kill Bill style or anything

let's just call it a precautionary measure


[For anyone who's quick enough to catch her at a terminal checking up on her post, it would be wise not to try and sneak up on her. You might lose something important.]
19 April 2013 @ 06:18 pm
[It's taken him a great deal of time to get his composure together, after everything is said and done. He might have his body back, but the rush of memories and actions and guilt guilt guilt is enough to make him want to vomit. The images of himself, coated in women, stained in blood, saying one thing while meaning another, leading people astray while knowing otherwise - PRETENDING....

How dare they... How DARE they...


As overwhelming as it is, he can't just wallow. Someone HAS to know, and as much as it might hurt to hear it so soon, they have to know immediately.

So Guy slips to a terminal, holding himself composed if not extremely worn... and as strong as he tries to stay, he can't quite keep the small tremble out of his words as he starts to speak.]

If you're hearing my voice right now, then you need to stop and listen. What I'm about to tell you is going to be hard to hear, and I'm sorry. But it's important.

This week was a mess. No one can deny that. But some of you here in the Tower might have been aware of a few of us wandering around, claiming we had "control" of our minds. To some of you, we were your superiors, ordering you to do or say things for us. The few of us that had mixed colors in our collars or could maintain a conversation like normal, despite our modifications, claiming that the Administrators had failed and that we were fighting back.

We sent out a message this week, gathering people and information to try and establish what we claimed was a counter-resistance. Many showed up. Many put confidence in us.

[He pauses, swallowing hard.]

That was a mistake.

The truth is that we were just as brainwashed as anyone else... Even more so, I guess. Despite what we might have said or made people think, we were all actors. The few of us you may have talked to were sent out specifically for sabotage and information, all for the ones that did this to us. We were spies, and before coming back to normal, many of us just gave away information that...

[Another pause, a deep grimace crossing his face.]

Well, it might prove to be a disaster for quite a few people. If you spoke to a drone in what you thought was a form of confidence, especially against the Tower or in details of the resistance...

[His expression pains, grimace thinning into a guilty frown.]

Then I'm sorry. We've done something truly horrible.


There's another long pause, the man at the screen tense and quiet. Either he's searching for something else to say, or his composure is about to slip from him. It's hard to tell.]

There's nothing we can do to take it back. Think what you would like of us. But we've tricked you, and you deserve to know. And right now... I'd recommend to be prepared for the worst.


If you have questions, then feel free to ask. I'm... not sure what any of us can tell you. I'm sorry.

[And with a tired, forced smile, the feed ends.]
01 April 2013 @ 09:57 pm
[It takes him all day to muster himself out of his bed to make this post in the dormitory levels. Had he not been slammed with a message about his new "job", he would have kindly stayed in his room for a day or two just to... he wasn't even sure what the right word was. He didn't need to relax. He needed to detox. His journey home had been short, but he hoped and prayed it was just a dream. Only a dream, please just let it be that. But he'd seen the barren landscape, inhaled the putrid, acidic smell of miasma leaking out of every crack and crevice, seas of purple mud and poison all that remained of his world.

Of course he wanted it to be a dream.


Two questions. Feel free to answer or not.

First: How many of you have been back home? As in: how many have returned to what used to be their home, only to come back? What did you see, and did it... feel real?


Second: What are we left with if the worlds we all know are really gone? Is it just us, this Tower, countless years and a few grim expectations?

I really am starting to wonder.
03 February 2013 @ 04:20 am
okay so two things and I'm gonna try and keep this simple
because otherwise I seriously worry how many of you are actually going to pay attention past this sentence

okay so number one-
anyone else a little worried about how excited this Ruana kid is about all this lovey-dovey stuff
everyone else saw her little show at the wedding right?
and now this hot pink and red mess of meals
not to mention all these candy hearts everywhere
none of that's sounding the fucking klaxons of 'danger, danger Will Robinson' for the rest of you?

I'm asking just in case anyone starts catching any inapprops feelings for anyone else
so I can kick back, grab some candy heart pancakes and chant 'I told you so' to the tune of Amazing Grace

number two-
can I get a Strider role call?
hell, Lalondes too why not, let's go
13 December 2012 @ 11:38 am
yo so how bout them fucking sniffles
you know
the ones all you tools seem to have suddenly
is some straight pandemic shit about to go down
should I call the president of Madagascar and tell him to shut down everything
shit nevermind that motherfucker probably already knows
the rest of y'all might wanna get the CDC in on this before everything goes all Outbreak
cause I ain't about to spend my days feeding soup to a bunch of bedridden wimps
no candystripers around here man
not today