Corporate Red Tape

Like I had said before. Nearsighted goals. Survival. You know what that means? Compromise. Living by the skin of your teeth and making the hard calls. Jack has done it for as long as she's been alive. And of course it's "done wonders for her mental and emotional state." Not that I could complain, I just have a weird burning feeling in my gut. I've been doing it since I gave my soul away to protect people I care about. I drew a line in the sand each time I said I thought I'd given enough. Think of it like a Japanese zen garden, except if you arranged all of those lines together, they would have spelled out: "You sad, gutless fuck." Or something to that effect. I don't fucking know. I've been trying to overdose on coffee to ignore those thoughts. Jack always gave me this look because I was never a fan of soda. Caffeine does wonders for a tired mind. Someone called me an addict in the comments of one of my previous posts. Pretty su

You'd expect something like a horrible migraine to just keep you from going on with your day. The anger, torment and nightmares from reliving things you thought never should have happened to begin with. Not me. Powering through was always my specialty. Even with my dreams. Cold sweat, not being able to move. Feeling like my body wasn't even mine. I'd laugh at the tragedy if I ever felt like it. But I don't. I can barely do anything anymore. Taste. Smell. Even listening is just like an automatic function. Me, but not me. Existing in a void between awake and asleep. You'd think I was bored or even not being affected by any of it. I was. For.. months. Felt like years. Never let on because it just wasn't my place to do so.  I was just always way too good at hiding it. A smile on my face hid the pain. Not telling anyone meant I was saving myself the trouble of disappointing anyone else. My job didn't need any more emotional attachment to it than

Things seem... different. Might be because I moved offices. Needed a new change of scenery and my old one smelled too much like stale whiskey and bad memories. Lot of empty ones in this building. Not like I had any competition. Everything is the same. Shouldn't feel any different. But it does. More than anything, the world feels the way it does when you move somewhere new and visit a restaurant you used to go to before. Same place, same food, same shitty in house beer. But at the end of the day, you have to find your way back to your new place. New route from an old place. Keep doing that, day in, day out. For six fucking months. And you'll see how I felt with what happened... I mean, it's a new office. Still has that freshly polished desk smell. But it's not really all that new. Same place. New experiences? The paperwork goes to the same bin. I have the same desk. Nothing should feel different. The coffee is oddly effervescent but that might be th

Report Number: 01030500 Logistical Anomaly Name: Data Not Found Date: Data Not Found  Contents: Declassified From the Personal Desk of Section Chief Tag I've been coming up with some issues lately that I don't think I can discuss with anyone besides myself. Of course the blog is an open source thing for Underland but even I have my own private archives.  Whatever messages are getting through are still mine. But even with data retrieval going, it's not easy to figure out from where. I've been...foggier lately. I think it's stress. Or emotional drain from everything finally catching up with me.  Maybe I'll just explain what I'm seeing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Loading... Data Not Found. Archives Corrupted. Do you wish to continue? Rebooting... Archives Available. Logistical anomaly detected in archives, files not found. Archives Unavailable. Username: Tag

  Honestly, I guess I can't just drink myself into a stupor without incurring someone's wrath in upper management. Guess with this memo circling, I might as well tell you guys about it. Whatever is going on seems to be too big to go unnoticed either, and maybe events are brewing beyond our control. Do I like it? Hell no, I don't. Will I do anything about it? Only if it starts personally affecting my job and Jack's well being. I said I was a team player. Never said which team I played for. Point is, I think Jack and I are going to be in some deep shit.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MEMORANDUM: TO: All Agents Posted at Sanctuary FROM: Upper Management Thank you for your support in this current project. We would like to show our appreciation for your efforts with a warning.     Denizens of Sa

Casual talk aside, I still wish one of the abilities of a proxy was preventing hangovers, but I'm still busy so the Ol' Lady, fine aged whiskey, is a necessity in my line of work. Jack mentioned that my blog was a bit messy, and since she's busy taking care of our new arrival , I decided to do it in our downtime. Admittedly I'm a bit unnerved and think some other reports are a bigger priority. Like the attacks on our topography parties in the badlands and near the Fear domain borders. Something isn't right about this, especially with such a high casualty rate. Servants don't attack our parties for no reason, and at this rate we could have fended off anything that existed. But this is different. Whatever's out there is trying to send a message, but isn't showing it's ugly face for whatever reason. But I digress. You can see why Jack's been so busy. Wasn't even there for that and I feel sick to my stomach. Honestly I'm sort of okay

Sanctuary is moderately safe, and we'd like to thank our friends and defense force, the Rabbits, for their valued efforts and valor for their actions during The Culling. But, dear Underlanders, your part is not complete. With renovations still underway and relocations at hand to keep citizens away from the harsh zones, we here at The Board have provided an easy to follow safety protocol list. Follow the rules, and you'll be safe from whatever dangers lie ahead of you. Or at least moderately comfortable. We're still working out the bugs, but please bear with us.  The Do's and Don't s of Sanctuary/Underland: 1. Be Polite. We may have killed all of the less than scrupulous dissidents during the Culling, but we'd like to remind you that there are swift punishments for anyone who breaks the Code of Conduct in Sanctuary. 2. Always pay for goods and services. The Commerce Guild reminds you not to skimp out on any services or goods provided

I'm a bit sad. But it's alright. I think I earned this after everything that's happened. I couldn't stop Red.  I broke the contract. And I died. At least, that's what I thought was going to happen. Something changed, the game itself just seems to have imploded in on itself, and everything seems to have a silver lining in the end. As you may know, yes, I was in contact with Red this entire time. After that aforementioned raven attack, I decided to talk to her and keep her company. It was nice, kind of like being a family again. I've been sort of incapacitated after a long list of very.. brutal events on my part. For example, did you know that caltrops can be taken rectally? I didn't! I didn't even know what caltrops were up until that point. But enough monologuing. General Report:  Post Culling Sanctuary Status:  Green  Current Location:  (Areas of Mobile/ Theodore, Alabama and 251/356 Area Code) (Expansion In Progress)

I guess, my friends. It is time to tell you what you're playing for. I mean, it's time, but not my place to explain myself. That's her job. But, one final riddle. A tale from a land full of treasure, and no way to contain itself. Fire and Treasure: A Siren’s call. A gunman’s ball. To hear the clap of the traps on the moon. Bullets rain, bandits slain. Ether, plasma, lightning, explosions.  Many see the fires come again. As the six sisters lay on the planet below, a handsome man is their true foe. Among them, circles within their eyes. Is she. Her name is famous, as is her heart. The man with the gun, he fell.  Was the sister chained by the fiend?   But she, rose again. And destroyed the man who wanted the monster in the vault. Who is she, maiden fair? One of sharp tongue. And bloody affair.

You'd think that I would have tried to do more stuff in the past two weeks, besides just play these games with all of you? Well tough, you're dead wrong. I think I've earned a bit of a vacation from.. whatever is happening with Jack right now. It's probably what's been keeping her busy and not posting for a while. I'm not saying that I'm worried about her. But I am. She's still Jack, and even if she puts me through hell and sasses me like a spunky grandmother. I'm worried about her. But enough of the sentimental crap. Here's the next riddle. Fear the hunger of mortal sin. The friends, the enemies, who will win? 2,4, 1, 10. 2,4, 1, 10. Her name is Hagan, and she sings. Does she wish to communicate with us in song? A ballad of two shades that make purple.