Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Work, work, work

Work. Work. That's all I do. Work, work, work.

Kay. The elephant is in the mail. I've run it through a few tests, but it is in as good a condition as when I found it. Perhaps a bit less muddy.

And as for the dog...

This one, for determination: Bright and shining, lead the way - oh, but you've led yourself astray. You'll never see the light of day; nor be forgiven, that's what they say.

You get three chances.

Sunday, June 26, 2011


"Witchchilde," "La Dame du Lac," "Solomon." There are some things I need remember. Some things that I've put away.

But that's neither here nor there. Not now. Not while I can't focus.

This one, for courage: When wings float on breezes of blacks, grays, and whites, and a horrifying scream rings out in the night, at the end of the tunnel there will always be light, as long as this woman keeps up the spirit of the fight.

You get three chances.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Migraines, and taking inventory

I've never had them before. They are a horrible, horrible thing. God. I'll be right back, I'm going to go find some medication.

OK, better. I am fairly certain I have been unconscious for a time. What day is it today? The twenty-fifth. For a long, long time. That's okay. That's okay. It's to be expected. Where are my children? My children. My children are here. Isabella?

Isabella. Infinity. Infinity's gone. I don't know where she's gone. No idea. Let's see. Cure? Three syringes. Hm. Strange. Only had one before. Anything else? Taser, check. Gun, not check. Ring, check. Clothes, check. Coat, check. Boots, check. Contacts, not check. Glasses, check. At least I can see. Keys, check. Wallet, check. Cell phone, not check. No, it's here. Moved to another pocket. Knife, check. Herb pouch, check. Cyanide capsule, check. All I'm missing is the gun. Good. I don't like guns.

OK, inventory taken. Where am I? Am I still in Ohio? Cell phone has a GPS. Let's see. I'm in Ohio. Good. Where am I? At my camp. Good. No, no, I'm not. I'm in my tent but not at my camp. I'll be right back.

What's happened since I was out? I'm going to go read up.


That's rather depressing.

OK. I think I've got everything. No. There's something in my pocket. What's in my pocket? It's difficult to think straight. Something's wrong. I'll have to do a few tests. OK. Anything on my blog? Yes. I posted four times in the last four days. Asking strange questions. Friend. Orange. Down. Who's Solomon? What's this Twitter account? Who is the witchchilde? There's a Twitter feed now. Except, I was unconscious. Perception filter? Anansi, I need your help. Why am I typing that? Sometimes I wish I weren't human. Even natural mortal filters are a nuisance. Even if I've removed several of them. OK. Readers. Other people read my blog. It's a blog, after all. Who posted those? It couldn't have been me. Help me. Who posted the last four posts on my blog? Can you see a name besides "Guess"?

OK. OK. What's in my pocket? OK. It's black. It's a statuette. It's jade. It's an elephant. Ohio. Zero. Elephant. Jade. Black.

I need a drink.

OK. Anything living outside? Besides foliage. Yes. Dog. Big dog. Rather shaggy. Sand-colored. Watching. Waiting.

I really need a stiff drink.

No. Not now. Must continue. Inquiries. Inquiries. Which is this? Twenty-three. Twenty-three. Twenty-three. Very well.

This one, for health: What herb heals all wounds?

You get three chances.

Friday, June 24, 2011

The witchchilde shall returne shortly. Unharmed.

But Solomon and I will remaine with him.

And with you, if you desire.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Monday, June 13, 2011

Escape route

Guess, I hope to high heaven you can see this because I've got no other way of contacting you right now. The Institute was attacked early this morning, only a couple hours ago, now that I think about it, and it's shot to all hell. The - well, I'm sure it's fine intrinsically but we've been kicked out and replaced by Indoctrinated. They ransacked the place and I don't even know what else they're doing in there because none of us are in good enough condition to go back and see. The Professor, Squirm, and I all got out with only a few scrapes and bruises, but most everyone else has at least one serious injury. Atlas is in the worst state. All the action has completely messed up the final few stages of his recovery; we only just managed to staunch the bleeding before he bled out, and he's unconscious and jittering and mumbling in his sleep and in all honesty I'm scared, Guess, I'm scared.

Calm down. Okay. Calm. Better. None of the familiars are hurt at all, but they seem traumatized somehow. I think it has something to do with the Businessman. I would appreciate it if you would ask Anansi to find out something, because we're completely at a loss, and we simply don't have the time to be trying out things with the level of damage we've sustained.

We do have your cure, though. Soon as we're stable I'll...find some way to send it to you. Isabella is definitely a top priority. OK. Think. Need records before we all dry up out here.

Some poor man arrived in the foyer with a package. I don't know who he is or how he's connected to the Tablet or where he got the cure, but that's what he was delivering. I'm not even sure he knew what he was delivering, the dear. I went up to receive it, but before he could even smile it was like something switched off in his brain and he collapsed to the ground. That was when it started. Some kind of explosion rocked the place from downstairs. A van pulled up outside. Masked men and women were coming towards us, slowly, slowly. For the life of me, I can't think why they'd want to do this...we're only scientists. And we're - well, you know. God, God, God. The rest is a blur. The others showed up beside me and we sprinted for all we were worth. I must have grabbed the box that the deliveryman had dropped. None of the Indoctrinated attacked us. They were only there to drive us out. We're safe for now, but...

Oh, God, Guess, be on your guard, they might come for you next.

Oh, God, the woman...the woman that - oh, God. She died in the attack. We had no idea who she was or where she came from but we were tending her as best we could. I was going to give an update if she had even spoken or said anything at all, but it's too late now. From what the Professor tells me, that first explosion knocked out her IV drip and caused severe mental trauma. It was only a matter of seconds. At least she went without pain.

Guess...please stay safe. We can't risk losing you or Isabella.

To direct, to instruct, to lead, to guide: the Compass.

Right. This was in my drafts today. I am going to let you read it as I have, because I am a faithful reporter...I'll...I'll ask Anansi if he knows anything. Later. First I'm making sure the protections on this safehouse are good enough. Infinity still refuses to acknowledge that she is not a vegetable.

Not to take away from the drama and despair of the moment, but I have a job to do. C'est la vie.

This one, for holy quests: What is the French name of a very wet guardian of a certain sword?

You get         chances.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Ambushes, traps, and other things that make me nervous

She's in some kind of catatonic state, not moving, not talking. She eats, but not without help. I've asked the Tablet for cure, to be sent to the Institute; and they'll get it to me. I don't trust anyone else with our location. What I'm worried is that they'll (they being the Businessman and Co.) send someone else to take her back, and kill me. Or even worse, that something else will arrive.

The correct answer for the previous inquiry was Nick, or AmalgamationSage.

This one, for happiness: Alive or dead or in between, though the meaning of it all remains to be seen. Kind words and happiness arrive packed neatly in a box, and the delivery person seems to really love to talk.

You get three chances.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Results, or how I rubbed the dust out of the eyes in the back of my head

It didn't go nearly as dramatically as I expected. No, I was having a drink in a bar when I knew that she was there. And she was, just outside the window. She offered no resistance and no anger. In fact, she offered no emotion. Instead, Infinity offered her hands to me. I took them. I secured them. I lead her to the small camp I had made. I made sure she couldn't leave, left my eldest child to guard her, and went back to finish my drink. And also get a bit drunk. No hangover, though. Yes, it was last night.

I also...oh, God. I couldn't save the child. Any of them. All I could do was find - oh, God. Oh, God. A doll. A girl's doll. The girl's doll. Of the parents who - who knew. Oh, God. God. God. I can't handle this. God.

The previous inquiry still stands. There is one chance left.

Friday, June 3, 2011


So, the lead. Well, I haven't acted on it yet, though I plan to do so tomorrow. No, the past week or so, I've been...stocking up. On supplies. And...ammunition. Oh, God. Please tell me I'm doing the right thing. I don't want to kill her, but if I have to...oh, God.

This one, for labor: A monument to all your sins, a collection of wisdom and hope and grins; a sure man against mortals, but not on the other side of the portals.

You get three chances.