-
(Untitled)
All the more reason to drink bottled water, isn't it?
Or to not drink water at all.
Idiots.
Private to Socrates//coded unhackable
This isn't a curse. Stop eating the bodies. You're going to vomit something up.
/filter -
(Untitled)
City, thank you for absolutely everything. A day late and uncursed, but the sentiment remains.
Disdain, disdain.
And so lonely.
Vivian, you made a lovely dinner. It reminded me of home. I hope Socrates did not bother your too much.
George, I will be needing the car tomorrow evening. I have errands to run and business to attend to. -
(Untitled)
I have finished my garage ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Accidental Voice Post
I...
Where am I?
Daddy? Daddy, I'm sorry, please come back, please don't be dead, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Why am I so...hungry....
...I can't see anything. Did I go blind?
...what's wrong with me?
A computer?
What's wrong with me?
End transmission -
(Untitled)
Socrates, my love, it's the Weaver who won this round.
Looks like my kind of City. Who wants to play today? I have so many toys...
And Cloud, your sweet Fenrir has turned into a sweet hover-Fenrir. I do hope that's not a problem. I took it apart to see how it could work.
I'm very pleased. -
Twenty-Fifth web
Do what you will.
But my workshop is not a playground. Don't make me perform the consequences.
Howl, did you find my dress? -
Twenty-fourth web
So much sensitivity after that last curse. So many people who simply refuse to let goI have to wonder, really, if those who fought back were cursed. Especially those who fought back under the guise of protection. Perhaps the blame lays in more places than one would assume. Perhaps both sides have done wrong ( Read more... ) -
Twenty-third web
Action log
[outside of Pandora's, a Silk Cut between his fingers, he's casually smoking and flicking the ashes to the ground]
There are only so many curses one should have to deal with.
Ek voel naar. I ate too much.
( ooc ) -
Twenty-second web
Forty-five.
Forty-five, and not a single bit of perfection. Not a single one. It was like rummaging through filth.
Forty-five.
And the woe today. Oh, how dreadful, to find a bit of flesh where one did not expect it. Simply throw it away and move on ( Read more... ) -
Twenty-first web;
To whoever left their shoddily crafted torture devices in the warehouse.
Please come get them. And the people who are dead in them. I have work that needs to be done, and it's a bit inconvenient to have to work around your equipment.
That would be lovely.