My Girlfriends Are Crazy

So, first of all, we're not dead.

We needed to do some relocation.  We're still recovering from Operation Summerborn, if you can fucking believe that.

Here's the short version of Summerborn:  We had inside men and women in Ace's organization.  They helped us get Knight of Coins--that's Leo, by the way--out of Ace's hands.  We wanted to keep them in, so we weren't saying much about it, but, surprise fucking surprise, Ace managed to sniff them out.  We had to free them.  One of them didn't make it.  I'm sure they fucking fed her to that fucking pet monster of theirs.

We're trying not to think about that.  But we, I mean me, because it's hit Tara, Ginger (Ten), and Leo pretty fucking hard and it's hard for them not to think about it.  Tara and Ginger were the ones that came up with the plan, and Ginger and Leo knew our insiders pretty well.

Right now, we're consolidating our resources, regrouping, and trying to stop Smiley from filleting a preteen boy.  So far, we have jack all resources, only a bare minimum of people--if fucking that, and we've narrowed Smiley's location down to one of half a dozen fucking places in this confusing fucking city, and the boy'll probably be dead in less than a week unless we hurry and tag it.

Also, in other news?  The girls I'm dating are really fucking crazy.

I woke up last night with Chelsea's hand on my stomach.  I asked her what the fuck she was doing and she said, "Shhh, I'm getting you pregnant."

Then, out of nowhere--because she wasn't there when we went to bed--Penny comes up and puts her hand on my stomach and says.  "I'm aborting your baby."

Then Chelsea said, "That's awful!  Keep your hand there.  I want to see which one of us wins."

Some nights I almost wish I'd stayed celibate.

bend me break me anyway you need me

We meet up with Jeanette and Alison tomorrow.


I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I see them.  I've been talking with Tara about it a lot.  And sometimes I ask Ten for her opinion, which annoys her, so I do that some more, because I have to get the younger sibling instinct satisfied somehow.


I've missed them.  I love them both (not in the same way obviously).  I want them both to be happy...and I'm not sure which of us would make Jeanette happier.  And I'm not sure Penny wants to be happy.  And a jealous part of me doesn't care if Penny is happy or not.  Jeanette's the only person I've been with that...that gets me, you know?   And she's so cool.  And amazing. And really, really hot.


And now she has both crazy Balisong sisters nipping at her...I was going to say "skirts" but I don't think I've ever seen Jeanette wearing something that isn't a pair of black jeans.


I guess the mature thing to do would be to talk to them about this rather than venting to the public, but eh, that takes too much work, emotionally.


I guess I just don't know where it goes from here, you know?  Penny's being all Doomsayer on us...and she's probably right.  I just...what do you do with the knowledge that one or more of your friends is absolutely going to die?  Especially since...the way Penny's been talking...I'm pretty sure at least one of them will be one of the two two people I care about most in the world.


And then she drops the "I love you" bomb.


What do people do in this situation?  I try to think of  something, but I keep getting sad and frustrated.


Maybe there isn't something for me to do.  But I can't think like that.  Maybe Jeanette and Penny can, but I...


There has to be something I can do.


-Alice

Not Much Time

Paramilitary goons are looking for us.  We don't have a whole lot of time, so I'll make this brief.

Penny's with me.  She's preparing a transcript of me finding her.  She insists I don't just fucking tell you, because she likes her transcripts.  Whatever.  It doesn't matter.

I'll say two things before I shut down this laptop and we get the fuck out of here:  One, the others found Tara, and we're working on a rendezvous, preferably somewhere neutral where Ace's goons won't find us.

Two, the thing that came out of King?

We're going to have to kill it.

The Things With Dead Eyes That Used To Be Men

Fuck.

Don't even know where to fucking begin here.  This is some fucked up shit.  Maybe this sort of thing is like, fucking preschool stuff to some of you out there, but I've only been really dealing with Smiley, never many of the others, not fucking directly.

I didn't really believe Alice at first, because it sounded like a pretty tall fucking tale, but Ten corroborates, and I've fucking seen them with my own fucking eyes, so listen up.  And if any of this sounds familiar with anyone, let me know.  I'd like to know what I'm fucking dealing with.  And what the fuck it did with Tara and Alison.

I'd just met up with Ten and Alice.  It was a bit after I punched Ten in the face on principle.  We were out looking for somewhere to get food and maybe get some ice for Ten's face.

Alice was the first one to see it, maybe because she's been the one to see them more.  Still feel pretty fucking careless not spotting it first, though.  Fucking monocular vision.  She saw someone being dragged into an alley.    Ten didn't want to get involved but, fuck it, what's the point of being a goth cowboy if you don't go fucking vigilante once in a fucking while?

She told me to be careful, but I told her I knew what I was doing.  Then I looked down the alley and realized no, I really fucking didn't.

I'm going to say here that it was like a zombie, and I know the first fucking thing that will come to your mind is a Romero zombie.  This wasn't like that.  They're more like voodoo zombies.  They're living and mindless and focused on the task in front of them. This one grabbed a guy and was dragging him, hand over his mouth, somewhere down the alley.

Another thing?  It looked like it was...absorbing the color around it, I guess you could say.  It was all grey and washed out, and I could see that in some places, the guy it was holding was like that too.  Like if Rainbow Brite had a fucking voodoo priest in her Rogues Gallery or something.

I don't know what it was going to do next.  I didn't give it fucking time.  I sprinted up to the fucker with my knife out--to big major a street to risk the Anaconda--and jabbed it right in the bastard's throat.  Grey blood gushed from it, but it kept hauling the guy back.  Like I'd just barely fucking tapped it.

I still didn't want to use the Colt, so I grabbed a loose brick from the alley floor and smashed it down on the zombie...thing's head.  I did that a couple of times, enough that I saw its skull cave in.  It just fucking let me hit it, too.  Didn't even pause dragging the guy back.

I was about to just shoot the fucker when it slowed and stopped, and then loosened its grip and fell back.  The guy it had scurried away as fast as he could and took off screaming.  Ten, Alice, and I had to get away fast, so we couldn't investigate the body.

What we think happened is, it doesn't need the brain to work.  It's programmed, like a fucking computer.  Only thing that killed it in the end was blood loss, because it just really fucking needs the limbs and lungs to work, and it took way too much of that before it started fucking slowing.

My suggestion?  You see these things, go for the heart.  Stop the blood flow altogether.  If I'm right that'll fucking down them faster than anything.

Wish I knew what the fuck they were, or where the fuck they came from.  Best guess?  Whatever the fuck was in King's head has made them.  I don't know more.

All Alice and I remember is that we were sitting with Tara, and Alison was in the other room, talking to King, in this old warehouse we were squatting in.  Then I heard Alison call out something, and then I heard a loud BANG, and then Alice woke up alone in the warehouse a few days later and I woke up in a fucking cornfield months later.

Ten remembers coming to look for us.  She also, seeing the transcript, can sort of recall seeing something but she doesn't remember what.  According to her, she was in the group to see if whatever the fuck Alison knew could be used as a weapon again the Major Arcana (fuck now I'm consistently calling them that).  Knight was there to help his brother, and from talking with King, he was there mostly because Knight was making him.  Ten says she doesn't know any of the specifics on what was in King's head, only that Knight occasionally let slip that it wasn't...a stable entity.  Like maybe it was broken or something?  If the Major Arcana can even break--though I guess the Chariot (Dying Man.  Why do I keep using her terms?) is proof that they might not be immutable.

It's Ace that makes me nervous right now, though.  Not even Ten knew what his deal was, exactly, or how he had that paramilitary group under his command.  She's not even sure his soldiers knew--different squads had different fucking stories about why they were where they were and doing what they were.

Who he is doesn't make me nearly as nervous as the other question:  where the fuck is he now, and what is he doing with all those soldiers?

For that matter, what happened to the, like, fucking dozen of soldiers that tried to capture us?  Are they turning up at random around the country too?  Or around the world?  What if Tara fucking shows up in the middle of fucking North Korea?  What is Alison appears in the fucking jungle?

I really need to find them soon.  I hope whoever posted that fucking clue is Alison or Tara.  But if they are...why haven't they contacted us?

Theories

So, I've been thinking, while we're coming up with a few plans on what to do next. I think I know what Smiley went after those potential victims/proxies.

I think is was kind of a "Hey assholes, remember me?" thing. Like, it's been locked away so long or whatever the fuck it was doing in Penny's head, it wanted to make sure the rest of the Fears knew it was back.

Just an idea, probably not even fucking accurate. Could have just as easily been, "Oh hey, Jeanette, you're my proxy now. Deal with these assholes, would you?"

Maybe I should start looking up when it was locked up? Might not give me much, but maybe I can find someone to stop it and things like it, or some fucking thing.

Anyway, back to trying to salvage the terrible fucking plan Tara came up with.

Nope

Not talking about the psychos in this post. Not going to do it. Too much else is fucking going on. Besides, we're going to buy alcohol soon so I don't have all that much time.

For one, I guess Hunter was alive and then died again? Fuck. I'll need to get some for him, too. Hope you found some resolution, man. Or at least killed what you meant to kill.

Not focusing on that, though.

Mostly today I'll be talking about my relationship.

Basically, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. Every once in a while Alice is all "Let's cuddle now!" and I say, "I'm busy." and then she does it anyway.

How does this work? I guess it's alright but I'm fucking lost as hell.

The others are no fucking help, either. Penny mimes vomiting whenever the subject's brought up and Tara just stands there like a fucking idiot, calling us a "cute couple". What the fuck does that even fucking mean?

Fuck, it doesn't even matter. This is just getting me confused and frustrated so I guess I'll talk about the guys who shot at us anyway.

Penny and Tara think at least one of them was from their little message board group? I don't even fucking know. They only talk to each other about it. Way to keep secrets from the one who, you know can fucking protect you better than anyone else around fucking here.

And this business about Smiley being locked in Penny's head? Fuck if I know what that's all about. She posted it without talking to any of us about. Not even fucking Alice, and then, of course, she doesn't talk to anyone about it afterwards either.

Just fucking fantastic.

...I guess there is something else. Always is, right?

Ten of Wands sent me a message.

"This is all your fault.

I hope I'm the one who gets to kill you."

This was so much easier when it was just me, alone, hunting Smiley. Sure, it sucked, but there weren't fucking factions, there weren't people with me I had to fucking protect. Just me and it.

Speaking of the devil (not The Devil, that's something different. Thanks for giving everything a confusing second name, Penny!), it's been hitting a few places pretty hard lately.

I know what happens if we don't save them, but right now....ug, they're probably waiting for us at at least one of the places. We need to find it but we also need to not get fucking shot.

I seriously cannot fucking get that alcohol fast e-fucking-nough.

Anyway

Some guys with guns came after us. They weren't Sgt. Pepper's. I don't know who the fuck they were.

We were closest to a port, so we ran there, found a houseboat, and Tara stole it.

We're still on the houseboat, though we've landed a few times. Never at a port, though. We'll have to ditch it soon, we've had some close encounters with the coast guard.

I'll be glad when I'm not sharing a tiny fucking bathroom with three other fucking girls.

And...I'll be honest. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing as far as relationships go. I mean fuck I don't even really think about people that way.

But she's kinda cool, I guess.

Jesus Christ what is wrong with me this is public.

Anyway, people trying to kill us.

I don't think they're trying to kill us.

I think they want us alive.

I think they want to know how we gave Smiley form.

Penny/Alison whatever won't talk about it. I know she's the one who was the most responsible, but she won't say. She says she doesn't remember but no one's fucking buying it, Ali.

Anyway I need to find a way to ditch this houseboat.

More later.

Get Boat

Have to make this quick. We're on the move.

After those biographical comments got added a group of people attacked us. Lots of them. Heavily armed. Not very professional, though.

Trying to find a way to scramble our location. Might be tracking us by our computers?

Also, apparently Tara can hotwire more than just cars. Currently traveling by illicit houseboat.

More later.

Just Another Day

Just a snippet of a conversation we had the other day at a diner.

Tara: Hey, Jeanette. You remember when your worst fear was that you'd end up pregnant in high school like your mom?

Me: *snort, laugh* Yeah. Remember when yours was that you wouldn't be accepted by the U of I?

Tara: Totally. What about you, Chels?

Chelsea: My worst fear used to be that my classmates would find out about me and they'd force me to change in the shower during gym or something.

Me: *chuckle* Penny?

Penny: *deadpan* My worst fear is a monster with a wide smile and penchant for flowers. Perhaps you've heard of him.

*awkward silence. Penny slowly grins.*

Chelsea: It's your job to ruin everything, isn't it, ******?

Penny: Well, I am an older sister.

I'm Surrounded By Nerds

Goddamnit girls.

Stop fucking talking about Pokemon.

On White Trash

As someone who was conceived when her parents were still in high school, I have some serious fucking qualms with how lower-income white Middle Americans are treated in the media. I mean, here's my background: my dad knocked my mom up when she was sixteen and he was eighteen. Rather than skip out, he manned the fuck up and married her, taking a factory job straight out of high school, and working it until he was laid off, at which point he started doing various jobs before landing a job as a mechanic at a nearby auto shop. My mom's been mostly stay at home her whole time as a mother, but every once in a while she's gotten a part time job at a gas station or a department store to help pay for the bills. Both my parents are decent, hard-working folk. They might not always be the most politically correct, but they raised me.

I know, that seems like a pretty fucking damning mark on their record, but fuck, I mean, I'm still fucking alive after all this supernatural bullshit.

The thing is, if I was in some movie, what do you think I would've been like? What do you think my parents would've been like? Thick, inexplicable Southern accent (mine's pretty standard Midwestern, only a little bit of a drawl)? Tramp stamp and visible thong? Substantially overweight, maybe? Maybe the town slut? Father with a new bottle of booze every night? Abusive parents? Maybe half a dozen kids?

Never'd be the hero. Almost certainly comic fucking relief, jokes about eating possums and fucking cousins. Maybe some abhorrent admirer for the hero to try to resist the wiles of while he seeks out Miss Perfect Cheerleader/Secretly Hot Nerd, depending on whether he's Mister Perfect Jock or Secretly Hot Nerd (Male Version).

My dad drinks, but not a lot. He's yelled a few times, but he's never done it abusively. Only ever took me over his knee when I was little, and even then not that often and only when I was being really fucking bad. He's a good man. Most media, you think my dad would've stuck around and raised me? Of course not, it's the modern motherfucking Midwestern fucking tableau, written by people who've never fucking seen the Midwest except from a fucking plane window. Fuck, in half the fucking shows out there I'd be a convenient fucking miscarriage, just a very special episode teaching little Becky not to put out without having to cross the fucking Abortion Rubicon.

I know some people fit the stereotypes, and yes, I know as a white girl I don't have it as bad as other people do, but still, I'd really like it for people at the gas station to stop fucking smirking at me when they hear that Midwestern twang. It gets really fucking tired to have to hide your accent when on the coasts just to avoid being fucking patronized. Shit, it even happened in Champaign half the time I spoke to one of those fuckwits from Chicago.

Anyway, rant over, for now.

Oh, by the way, the Secretly Hot Nerd was Tara. I guess in the High School Romantic Comedy Equation, that makes me the Jealous Protective Possibly Gay Best Friend.

God, Penny and Chelsea are going to have a fucking field day with this post.

Queens' Run

You know what I miss? When I wasn't on the run from a secret organization.

Those were the days.

Fuck, where do I even start?

So, if you didn't know, me, Pete, and his brother Jimmy were all trying to find a way to get the two of them together. Jimmy and Pete both agreed this was probably the best option. Pete gets out of our hair, and also, maybe some fucking help. I know his organization isn't the most trustworthy but it's better than letting him run around on his fucking own.

So they decide to meet us at the same old amusement park the Manufactured Newborn was unleashed in. Yeah, that was a great fucking idea on everyone's fucking part.

We all got there, and everything was going fine. Better than fine. In fact, it looked like we'd hand off Peter and we'd be on our way and everything'd be fine and fucking dandy.

So of course that's when Peter's other side took over.

The agents weren't there yet, but they would be soon. Pete said he wanted to say goodbye to Tara. I didn't want her to, and I don't think she wanted to, but she stepped forward, and then Pete had his arm around her neck and was using her as a human shield.

My revolver was already pointed at him, but I didn't trust the shot. Not with one eye. Not with my best friend in his grip.

I asked him what he fucking wanted. He said he wanted not to be there when the agents sent to pick him up got there. He said he was sorry he had to grab Tara for this.

I told him to go fuck himself. He replied that he really didn't want to hurt Tara but he would if he had to. He was slowly backing towards an alley.

Penny was telling me to take the shot the entire time. I never did. When he reached the alley, I kid you fucking not, he blew us a kiss, pushed Tara forward, and ducked down it. By the time I reached the alley, he was gone.

So, basically, I fucked up. I should have killed him when I had the chance. But what else is fucking new? I'm basically fucking worthless anyway. A fucking blind girl could do my job--a fucking blind girl HAS done my job.

But enough fucking self pity. Because right after that, almost the exact fucking second after that, the fucking Lonely Hearts Club Band Agents show up, and, oh yeah, they were fucking armed, faster than they looked, and they looked pretty fucking fit. And they were also pretty fucking pissed that we'd lost Peter Rivers.

We lost a few of them by telling them where Peter had started to run, but it was clear that they still weren't that happy, so I distracted them while everyone else absconded the fuck out of there.

And by distracted I mean with bullets.

Yeah, in hindsight I probably shouldn't've shot at them, but it was really just a matter of fucking time before we pissed off Sergeant Pepper's, and I'm pretty sure I didn't shoot anyone fataly.

Pretty sure.

That makes me sound more badass than I was. The reason I'm pretty fucking sure is that I spent a lot of my time shooting over my shoulder and hoping not to get fucking shot. Jesus fucking Christ, it's like everyone in that fucking agency only drinks fucking Powerthirst.

We wandered around the amusement park for a while. And by 'we', I mean I wandered for a while, looking for the others, trying to stay away from those freaks in Sergeant Pepper's.

It's a creepy fucking place. I bet Penny could say something more fucking poetic about it but, yeah, turns out? Rusted out amusement parks where a dark machinery god was born? Really fucking creepy.

We had a few close calls, but we met up at the parking lot...where they had our shitty car on lockdown. I'm pretty sure weird shit happened to the other girls, but they don't want to fucking talk about it, of course.

Anyway, we needed a way out but couldn't really think of one, until Tara suggested we steal the caretaker's car. To which I sarcastically asked if she knew how to hotwire a car.

So, funny story. Turns out, when Tara insists she's been preparing for this life? Turns out she really has been. Long story short, she actually can hotwire a car. So that's pretty fucking rad.

There was a fucking lackluster car chase (not even one fucking fruit cart got hit!), but now, long story short, we're on the road again, possibly now being chased by a nebulous organization. Oh fucking joy.

Penny doesn't think we'll keep their interest very long. I'm not so sure.

But what I'm curious about is...why didn't Pete do worse to us? He probably could have. I mean, if he really does have fucking fear powers or something, he could have grabbed the gun or knife from me? Fuck, he probably could've done that without powers, considering how fucking glacial my fucking draw was.

Fuck, he could've snapped Tara's neck pretty fucking easily before he escaped. She wasn't even really bruised. Why the fuck not? Not that I'm complaining, since it turns out she's a master fucking thief. Also my best friend, but yeah, that hotwiring thing is really fucking cool.

Anyway, we're on the road and under the radar again. I think I might have found a couple Smiley sightings. For now, the four of us are going to investigate together.

Hopefully, we'll have better luck.

Awkward

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.

Fuck.

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.

Keep Moving

We're on our way.

This Aries guy had better hope I don't find him when I get there.

Also, good work, Tara. I know, yes, you probably should have shot him. But you stood up for yourself and your friends, which, speaking as the one who stood up for you in school, is pretty fucking amazing. I'm proud of you, girl. Give yourself a pat on the back.

And Penny, don't be so hard on her. She's new to all of this and she's doing great so far.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still going to lock her in an iron fucking box when we get there to keep her out of trouble. But still, good job on not dying yet.

Christ, I almost sounded like an actual fucking adult there for a second.

And I guess I should probably talk about what Penny said. About being a proxy.

I really don't want to, though. I'm trying not to think about it right now. I don't have the fucking time for a fucking identity crisis.

I'll freak out when Tara and Penny are safe and the Timberpup situation is resolved.

You know, speaking of, it's weird. I was kind of expecting Mister Gas Mask to show up by now and make the same implied threats that Slendy made somehow. He hasn't.

However, something weird did happen, when we checked into this hotel. One of the three missing bullets? You know, from when I was blacked out? It was waiting on my pillow like a fucking mint.

I'm keeping it in my jacket pocket, separate from my other ammo. Just in case.

Anyway, I'm going to go grab breakfast for Chelsea and me. We need to be ready to head out soon.

Chelsea Here

Hey guys, this is Chelsea Balisong.

I'm too lazy to start my own blog so I'm using Jeanette's. She probably won't mind.

Anyway, we're at a motel in the middle of the desert. It's...I'm not going to lie. It is dull as fuck.

Also I've been swearing a whole lot more since hanging out with Jeanette. I think she's a bad influence. My poor virgin mind has been sullied!

I've been reading this out loud to Jeanette and she just let out a bark of laughter. I'm not sure why.

Anyway, in the morning we'll continue on our way to save my sister and Jeanette's lesbian lover and she just punched me. I'm not sure why she's so randomly violent all the time.

As always,

Chelsea Balisong

Good/Bad/Frustrating News

Well, it looks like Smiley stopped killing in Champaign entirely after offing Tara's roommate. That's the good news.

The bad news is, it's on the East Coast. Again. And I'm sill on the West, figuring out how to get across the country.

And now the frustrating news.

Penny and Tara--aka the blind girl and the girl who cannot correctly hold a weapon to save her life--are headed there, rather than waiting for me. She's giving up on her fucking school to do this.

I mean, I expected this sort of bullshit from Penny because as far as I can fucking tell she gets off on infuriating me, but Tara? Okay, yes, I expect this sort of bullshit from Tara because she never fucking believes me when I tell her something is too dangerous or too stupid. The safe option is to let me take care of it. Like I always do.

What the fuck are you going to do, Tara? Study the Smiling Man to death?

Also, Penny said something about her "cards shifting" and the "Cups and Pentacles replacing Swords betwixt the Lovers and the Devil", or whatever the fuck that and all of her other seer bullshit is. The last "reading" she did with major arcana? It turned out to be about the fucking Slender Man. And a fucking crazy ass proxy version of someone we used to know. This one has the Devil? I'll let you do the fucking math, people.

But no, don't wait for the one who can fucking fight. Have the scholar and the blind fucking fortune teller go. That'll turn out really fucking well.

Oh? And extra frustrating? When I leave, Chelsea, as the Page is calling herself (Jesus Christ this is a weird family), wants to come with me. The only tempting part about this is I think this would really piss Penny off.

Back to trying to find affordable trains. You know, before Penny and Tara get themselves Fearmurdered.

So

It's my birthday apparently.

Woo-fucking-hoo. Nineteen years old.

I feel so fucking special.

Anyway, Page is pretty cool. We've hung out a bit while I'm weighing my options on how to get back to Illinois.

Apparently Penny and Tara are getting along pretty well, too. Turns out she really is CarrionPrincess, so I guess they know each other.

Tara says she isn't but I'm pretty sure she's trying to find Smiley without me. Penny says she isn't either, but I'm pretty sure she goes with Tara. Also, I'm pretty sure Penny's helping her just to enrage me.

So, anyway, happy fucking birthday to me.

Maybe I'll get a laser for it.

Fucking lasers. Jesus Christ.

I'm Not Sure What Just Happened

Start at the beginning. Right.

Last night I had a really fucking weird dream.

I was in this field of flowers, right? This field of endless flowers, flowers as far as the eye could see, filling the horizon in every fucking direction, and not just one type. Every type, roses, aconite, hydrangea, morning glory, lilacs, lilies, orchids, tulips, poppies, and on and on and on, covering all of the land, every square fucking inch of it. They filled the air, too. Petals floated in the breeze, blocking out the sun, choking out the sky. Every breath was saturated with pollen, almost more pollen than oxygen, choking me, sending me into nigh-fucking-constant sneezing fits. The pollen filled my eyes, too, making them itch and constantly fucking tear up.

And there was another smell, too. Just under the pollen was the potent smell of decay. Of wet rot and putrid flesh, only the overpoweringly sweet smell of flowers keeping that from make me sick too.

But the worst part was the rustling.

All around me was the rustling of leaves, the sounds of something moving through the flowers--every fucking flower--everywhere, all at once, a goddamn motherfucking cacophony of constant, quiet, disorienting noises. Part of me wanted to know what was making the sound...but I never checked.

I stumbled through the field for God knows how fucking long when I found someone else, stumbling in the other direction, her hands oustretched, each step she was taking being exceptionally careful, her eyes glassy and unfocused (and, in retrospect, probably actual glass), and I recognized the slight brunette young woman almost immediately as Miss Punchable, from my other dreams, aka probably Penny Balisong, the Queen of Cups.

I wanted to say something to her, wanted to get her attention, but before I could talk to her/punch her, I felt the sun on the back of my neck, and I turned towards it and saw...

And then I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine.

I'm not entirely sure I was asleep at all, either. My eyes still itch and my nose is stuffed up.

I could dance around the issue, but fuck that:

Penny and I have switched places. Her Page has confirmed this (also, I scared her half to fucking death when I was trying to get my bearings, but she seems...bizarrely cool with all of this). I'm not sure how this happened, but the fact of the matter is I am now in Los Angeles and Penny is in Champaign.

She's asked that I don't use her or her sister's real names. For whatever fucking reason, it doesn't matter. She doesn't know what's going on, either. All she remembers is wandering through somewhere with overpowering sound and smells, and then finding herself in my cot with no idea of how she got there.

Tara and her are going to look into it while I see if I can't find a way to get back to Champaign...or at least see if there's something to do out here while I wait.

Uh Oh

Something really fucking weird's going on.

Tara, when you read this, go to my hideout. I can message you and tell you where it is if you've forgotten. I think there's someone there who needs your help. I'll bet she's even more confused than I am.

I'm going to get my bearings, though I'm pretty sure I have the basic idea of where I am.

More once I get a better handle on this.

Okay.

I'm calmer now.

Tara's roommate is dead. We found her naked and tortured in the street, her mouth full of rose petals. I can't stay with her anymore, so I'm elsewhere in Champaign.

I know I'm seriously screwing up my badass cred by whining all the time, it's just....it doesn't feel like I'm accomplishing anything. I can never find it before it wants me to. I wonder why I even bother trying sometimes.

Fuck it. Tara and I are going to meet at the mall later. She's determined to make me have a good time if she has to. I think she just needs to get her mind off her dead roommate. I don't blame her.

I'm going to re-think my strategy. There has to be something I'm missing. Something else I can do.

I wish I wasn't the fucking first person to post a blog about this asshole. I could use an M. I guess I'm M in this situation, aren't I? Not the best mentor, kids. I haven't saved anyone, not really.

My advice for dealing with the Smiling Man? If it's been a week since it gave you flowers, then it could take you at any time. I'm not sure what Running can accomplish. If someone tries it, let me know. I'm going to advise the next victim-to-be I find to try it. If I can't save them, maybe I can at least buy them some time.