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.

Hey, Pete

Leave them.

Wander off into the woods or something and don't fucking come back.

If you're there by the time I get there.

If you've hurt them at all.

If you've even fucking looked at them wrong.

I will kill you.

I've killed before.

It just gets easier.

Especially with a gun. And oh yes, I do have my revolver.

So yes. Go and never come back. Because if you stay, well.

Like Penny said.

Better sleep with one eye open.