Monday, October 31, 2011


God fucking damnit.

We finally get to fucking Hope and when we do, everything's awkward as fuck.

It doesn't help that I kinda really screamed at Tara when I got here. And she...God, she feels terrible, you know? She didn't mean to, but they were talking and she got scared and he was right there and....hormones, nerves and shit, you know? She knows who he is but she fucking couldn't stop herself. They were both vulnerable and he was there and willing.

So she's not talking to me right now. It's not one of those "I'm not talking to you" things either. We just...aren't comfortable around each other right now.


Penny doesn't want to fucking talk to me, either. She's talked to Chelsea a whole bunch, but she's just...cold right now. I guess neither of us know what to say to each other, now that we're finally all together.

And Chelsea...God, where do I even fucking begin?

On the road trip, she tried to put the moves on me.

I really don't know how to react to that. I mean, no one's really hit on me before, let alone another fucking other girl. What do you fucking say to that?

She's probably just desperate. I mean, why the fuck else would someone like that hit on a mangled fucking tomboy dressed like a goth fucking cowboy.

So needless to fucking say she's not saying much to me, either.

And Peter? Christ. I have a hand near my revolver whenever he's fucking around. What do I do about him? I...I'm really not comfortable with shooting someone who hasn't done anything against me and mine. But if he stays, he's gonna almost certainly fucking do so.

And I can practically fucking hear proxiehunter's enraged fucking comment right now, all caps and telling me to fucking kill him now. I know. I fucking know! The longer I fucking agonize about this, the worse it's going to be when he fucking finally snaps, and it really is just a matter of fucking time.

I'm staying close to everyone and keeping an eye on him.

My revolver and my buck knife are never fucking leaving my person.

But, then again...

Maybe I'll talk to him about his brother. He's looking for him, right? I mean, I don't fucking pretend to believe that they're on anything fucking resembling good terms, but maybe we can get him going towards his family and out of our fucking hair.

Maybe that'd be for the best.

I'll keep y'all posted.


  1. No, I'm not going to shout. I'm just going to remind you of his history of gleefully experimenting on humans. Including high school kids younger than you and Tara were when this mess started.

  2. You should have shouted, just to let her say: "I FUCKING TOLD YOU FUCKING SO.


  3. So she got laid, and the boy had a chance for an experience that wasn't miserable and Fear-influenced. Yay for both of them, I think I understand a little better what was going on..

    That said, I'm sorry it was so awkward.

    Why does everyone get angry these days?