It

Our Father.
Who are here.
Hallowed is your name.
And your Kingdom is here.
Your will is ours.
On Earth, in the sky
in heaven.
Give us this day what we need
and forgive us for our existence.
As we eliminate those who do not serve you.
And lead us close to you
and let us worship you.
For thine is all things,
the power, the glory,
forever and ever.

And ever.

Sense

Just checking in here one last time, though I'm fairly finished with the blog, methinks! I'm awfully busy, in any case, what with working with the Club on Friday and facilitating the picnic on Saturday. I have to do a bit more work this week; Lucy did herself an injury a bit back, and so I've been looking after her two children some as well. I've been working on pamphlets and the like as well, trying to get the good word out, you know?

I really like it here, this lovely little town. Such history, such nice people, so clean. Everything has its place, and the like. I don't know why I didn't retire from the city sooner!

And the eyes; the constant watching, the unsung, screaming eyes, staring out from the shadows! How jolly they are. The arms covering all the bad (for a lack of a better word) things, the songs that constantly drown out the rest of the world, it's all so cozy and close! And I know I'll be safe here, there's no way I can't be, not with our friend in the shadows! For the first time in my life, my faith has been confirmed, you see! I always had doubt; we tried to save children in the African savannahs and so many still died, I held dead men in my arms and prayed for them, and I prayed for my son as he was taken to the hospital. Each time, nothing.

Now, though, now I have a physical god to worship, one whose actions I can see. I do not have to have faith in him; I know he is here. God personified, on Earth, with all his strength intact and for us. He is kind, and he accepts us, and we can see it. He punishes the wicked, and casts them out. He allows only his chosen to be with him, and when the end comes, he will keep us close. He is grace; he is kindness; we are better for worshiping him, not some invisible fantasy. He does not bleed, but he sings to us. He will bring the end down upon all those who oppose him. He will keep us safe.

I welcome him to me.

WebSubmitCriticalError: Unexpected error when retrieving text my computer is running out of batteries but i have to get this through thereCFG_GREINDEX_EXTRACT_TEXT_FROM_DEFAULT = false time

Ed you have to h2010-07-02 12:01:23 -> InvenioWebSubmitFileError: Error when converting from /opt/cds-invenio/var/data/files/g0/13/9812226.fig7.ps.gz;1 to .txt: Error in running ('/usr/bin/gs', '-sProcessrunModel=DeviceCYK', '-dD4ED', '-dNOLOOP', '-dNOPAUSE', '-dNOOUTERSAVE', '-dUseCIErun', '-sDEVICE=run', '-sOutputFile=lpme I don't know where I am but there are eyoutput_file.pdf', 'PDFA_def.ps', '/opt/cds-invenio/var/tmp/conversionhs24Kv/input.ps.gz')the ground is screaming

it was the circle%%parameter IN (filenameset) DO commandi went throuuugh by accident and i ended up here there everywhere there are black leaves and that tree CriticalError: Unexpected Error loop system default 63dab3824 nothing works but hte blog something wants this on here

he wants the loo%%parameter IN (filenameset) DO command loop closed and this is it just giving the ground what it wants

Ed I don't know where I am or where you are. Cutting across the mountains took time.

critical error (444)

Black Box

Yasamin is probably gone. But it's been weeks since I was last able to properly communicate. It all went wrong on the night I went to find Penny. There was a creature standing amongst the trees, I swear it, though most here would deny it or call me mad to say such a thing. Still, it stood there, unnaturally blending its aberrant form into the treescape, its faceless eyes watching me blankly, ribbons of black violet drifting as a web in the wind. I was so distracted, and fell to the ground, injuring my knee. I was taken to the Doctor's, where he proscribed me medication that did me no end of bad. I was plagued by visions, ersatz dreams of all shapes and colours. It's so difficult to remember now, but I can still see a putrid forest as I close my eyes; writhing beasts bubbling through the darkness; an empty throne on a pedestal, high above a sea of fiery destruction; Penny, with her eyes put out; my darling wife, drowning in rising waters.

My dear wife...

And all the time the muted real world twittered on, and a high flute-like song pierced my head and stopped me from communicating properly. I refused the medication to clear my head, and managed to crawl out of my room for a glass of water. Penny, Lucy and Tom were in the front room, all three playing a brightly coloured game and laughing. It is no wonder we humans are so easily entangled in villainy; evil does so well at wearing bright masks and smiling. This would have been Monday. I tried to call Yasamin, but the phones weren't working. I went to the train station for a bit, still in my pajamas and quite a sight, but I didn't want Lucy looking after Pen, not after the warnings I had heard. I was pressganged back into my bed, to taking another round of medicine.

I awoke on the Tuesday with a ringing headache, and the newfound realization that Yasamin would be better off in London; that was the day I managed to attempt to get a message across to Yasamin. My first was "Don't come back" but the moment I attempted to post it, the internet went down. My next few messages were equally clear, and equally hidden from sight.

I dabbled in madness then, knowing that a shallow code and faking madness were my only chances of getting any message to Yasamin. I sent my first out on Monday, in an attempt to also get out some information about the local legends; both were important. Both still are. I'm still hazy in the head from those frantic days, but there are still moments that stick out in my mind. I cannot tell what was real and what were hallucinations, cannot separate the "stuff" from the "nonsense" one might say. I had another appointment with the town Doctor on Thursday, and left Penny in the care of Yasamin's parents. I should never have associated myself with them so; I should never have endangered them so. I pray for them.

I walked to pick up Lucy, and found the house with all the doors open and banging in the wind. The house itself was empty. Penny and Tom were playing out back, quite innocently, ignoring the path of black ichor that was burning into the grass. It stank of burning flesh and oil. I told the children to go inside and lock the doors until I returned. Then I walked along into the forest, following the blackened path. The trees had withered slightly at the touch of the ooze, and the grass beneath it was dead. The path led deep into the woods, towards the circles, and suddenly I was terrified at what I might find. I wasn't led directly to the circles; no, I was led to a grand oak, ancient and massive. The trees beauty was marred by death.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I ask the Lord my soul to keep, and if I should die before I wake, I ask the Lord my soul to take. Amen.

Pray for them, if you will; Yasamin's dear parents were torn to pieces in ways too ghastly for myself to describe. I have no words for what was done to them. The villagers had words, though; celebratory ones, as they danced around the tree, hanging bloody garlands around each others necks and laughing giddily. It was a damned village fete to them. I hobbled as best I could back to the house, and tried to call 999; I told them there had been a murder, and directed them to the tree. They laughed at me, and told me that it was normal. I took Tom and Penny back to the house, and Tom fretted and worried the entire time. Penny was nonplussed, almost cheerful. I fear that I have lost her.

Our doors have been locked. We've been hiding. But our time is up; the villagers have called the Police, and pinned the murders of Yasamin's parents and the disappearance of Yasamin on me. It was easy enough to frame me as a mad goat, I expect. They will be bringing a ram to the door soon. I am most likely going to be arrested; I don't know what will happen to Penny, or to Tom. I will... try and encourage them to escape this town, but Penny won't leave, she likes it here. Honestly, neither of them would survive that route either. After what I've seen here, though, I don't want them to stay in this village.

I'll pray.

I don't know what good it will do, but I still have some faith. Surely I do.

Yasamin, working from a coffeeshop. I'm not in Malkirk, the entire town's been cut off. Trying desperately to get in contact with Ed, or my family, or someone-- saw the poems. He's trying to warn me off. Something to do with the stones. I have to catch up with him. The roads and phonelines are down, and none of the cops I've spoken to have been particularly helpful. I'm sickened by it all. There are people over there aren't there?

I'm going to cut across the mountains. I know them pretty well, I've been walking about them all year, and I'm worried as anything. Just let them be okay...

So I'll try and check in when I'm safe. But I might not be. Let's set a 24 hour limit on silence, shall we?

Jive

I'm going back to Malkirk today, and I don't want to go. Devilish or not, I hate that town. But I have to go back for my family, and Ed and Penny. Their my family too. Maybe I can convince some of them to move down here. I'm sure Ed wouldn't mind, he paid for my hotel down here in the first place. But yeah, I'll have to maintain radio silence on the train.

I'll admit that I'm worried though. Ed said he'd post on the blog as soon as he was feeling better, and he hasn't posted anything. Then, the blog hasn't posted any of my posts either. So I don't know what's going on there. I guess the same thing's been happening to both of us. There's something weird going on, I swear.

oh this is Yasamin again, in case you couldn't tell.

I hope everyone's okay.

Rashness

The Maid stumbled to the stones at dawn,
Unimportant to the fae was she,
They laughed and with their devil spawn,
Taunted the Maid in glee,
She stood up to them 'til early morn,
And then she tried to flee,
The poor lost lamb, the taunted fawn,
Hid in the roots of a tree,
Then the tree moved, and she was gone,
To hell for eternitie,

And the Fae gloated then on,
"BACK to hell," They said, "She's borne!"