Hot Air

Yasamin, again. I tried to post on Monday, but it didn't work. I called my computer and internet providers, and the blogger people, but none of them could help me. I didn't know anyone else in London, apart from Jean, and she's mental. Still, I couldn't think of anything else.

So I went over to her apartment, rapped on her door, and explained my problem. She asked if my fingers tingled after I'd typed and some other weird questions. I answered them, and then she said that my posts were in a bubble of time. I turned to leave, and she stopped me.

"Basically," She said, "Someone doesn't want you to communicate with the folks and Malkirk. Which is odd, because you haven't learned anything that you don't already know, apart from a few names. Like Sl&ampmovedperminantlyerror21end/er. But I don't think they could do something so specific with a virus. Unless it could be done, which would explain a lot. In either case, the service'll probably go back up when you get back to Malkirk."

Then she talked more stuff, like conspiracy stuff at me, and I was confused, and didn't really want to pay attention to it. She told me to burn down the Church.

I don't know what's going on.

Gear

I met with the girl on Monday, at her workplace. She gave an address. Small apartment, loads of books and empty beer bottles. Honestly, whoever this chick is, she's a mess.

The apartment smelled like alcohol. We sat at a bunch of boxes of books that served as a table. I recorded the conversation, I figured that at some point we might want to refer back to it?

"What's going on?" I asked her.

She laughed, "Straight to the point, eh? You live in a cursed town, it's possessed. The, heh, 'Coptic' Church doesn't worship any god."

"Devil worshippers? Really?"

"Heh. No, worse. Worse than that by far. Worse than Scientologists even. None of that exists. This creature they worship has many names, though I like to call it "the Gentleman." I don't know what it is, nobody does, not even the bloody experts-- don't matter what they say. It's an old god, it's an ancient monster, it's the very essence of nothing, it's the anti-life; the only true god that there is. He's either been here forever or since 2007. Could be our fault or part of the universe, we don't know. Sometimes he kills people. Sometimes he just watches them go mad. He can't speak, but he sings," She took out a cigarette at this point, and lit it. I coughed, and she ignored me. There was a long silence, "The Gentleman-- the Sl&nspnowrap/noreturn;kgend<i>ercritical-- is an unstoppable beast of contradictions, and even if you think he didn't for you, he always wins.

"Are you crazy? This is--"

"Nuts? Bullshit? Mad? Of course it is. The world is built on madness. I tried to fight it, I really did. It doesn't work."

"Is that why you punched Lucy?"

"She deserves worse, knowing what she does to her kids. She deserves worse." She seemed to be trying to scare me at this point, and I wasn't letting it happen.

"More conspiracies? Really."

"Yes."

"Well, thanks for your help," I lied. Seriously, she was pissing me off! What was I supposed to do? I asked her.

She just said "Run. Run or die."

"You're not running," I said.

"He was never interested in me properly. Though he's waiting. Getting closer every day. It's not going to be soon, but I'll wait my death with baited breath. I don't even matter anyway, and it was stupid for me to ever think I did."

I thanked her for her time and left. I'm just more confused now. The next train up to Malkirk is next Monday, something went wrong with the tracks. I'll go back then, I suppose, though I don't really understand what I'm supposed to do any more...

Luggage

I'm in London, and it's late. Oh, Yasamin here, and writing. I only left town yesterday-- Mr. Edward is sickly, and the pain medications he's on have made him a little out of it. Lucy said she'd keep an eye on him and Penny, but I'm still worried. The roads are still all down, so I caught a train. The train journey seemed to be a lot longer than it needed to be.

This last week has been really difficult. Mr. Edward mostly seems fine-ish, but he's very distracted, occasionally babbly but mostly quiet. And then Penny just seems completely oblivious to it all. I've been over there a lot, because I really do like them, so it's just been as a friend, not been getting paid for it. Anyway, when Ed's been talking, it's like he's talking to someone else. I think it's his wife. By the sounds of it, it's mostly stuff about his time when he was a missionary with the Quakers or something. And there was some arguing with another man, Mr. Green I think. I'm trying to write everything down here so I can remember. I didn't think it was important earlier this week, but now that I'm away from the house, I figure almost everything ties into everything else somehow, right?

So I'm going to go talk to Jeanne tomorrow. She'll be able to help.

I like London quite a lot. I almost don't want to go back home.

Babble

Apologies for the late response, to those watching. This weekend was... busy. Yes, busy will have to suffice as an explanation.

I found the young attacker sitting on a bench, chuckling at something on her phone's screen or somesuch. She seemed a bit wild-- I was reminded of some of the more traumatized children my wife and I fostered. Still, as with all things, I approached with open arms, half expecting to be knocked over at any moment. I asked if I could sit, and she told me I could, so I did. Then I asked her why she punched dear Lucy, and in front of her children no less. The girl looked at me-- she wore cheap, thick framed glasses and an odd grin. "Vengeance." She said.

I asked what on earth she meant by that, but the girl just laughed. Then her face darkened some, and she said "You leave your kid with that woman, right? The little girl? Don't-- don't do that. And keep an eye on the kids next door." Or at least something along those lines. My memory is faulty. Still, it was an unusual enough and worrying enough conversation that I memorized more than I otherwise would.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't have any evidence to back anything I say up, and in any case she might not be so... overt in her cruelty this time. But just-- you seem like a nice old bloke. Just keep an eye on the kids." Again, I was unnerved. Penny was going on a hike with Lucy that afternoon, and though I am not one to panic at the words of a stranger, something in the way she talked hit a nerve with me. We were quiet for a while, I wondering whether Yasamin would mind accompanying the hike. The girl shrugged, and stood up, "You blog, don't you."

I was utterly taken by surprise. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"It's too late for you then." She was staring at the treeline, and frowning. "You shouldn't stay here. But you're going to anyway, aren't you?"

I believe I made some noise of confusion at this point.

She scribbled down the address of a London pub, and handed it to me. "I work here. If you want answers, come visit." I must admit I was wondering if she was on drugs at this point. I was quite confused.  "I'm Jeanne," She said. She then just began... walking away. I didn't quite know what to say, so I turned back to the house.

That was Friday. I did get Yasamin to go on the hike, and she reported nothing too unusual, though they didn't go to the stones as was planned-- they made a quite obvious detour. She wonders if next time she could spy on the group more covertly.

The rest of the weekend was taken up by papers and paperwork, again nothing exciting, mostly busywork.

Damned Folly

Someone punched the neighbour today. It was a fairly surprising event, to say the very least.

Lucy was in the garden with her partner and their two children. The lot of them were a little distracted by the autumn barbeque they were trying their best to kindle. I was out on the front stoop, watching Pen cover our garden path with strange chalk drawings. As I looked around, I noticed that a woman was walking down the road, looking rather haggard. I'd never seen someone such as her in town before so I kept an eye on her. The woman stopped just off of our street, and then broke into a run. She leaped over the neighbour's fence and ran straight at Lucy. This strange woman barreled into Lucy, easily knocking her and the barbeque over. The stranger was tall and heavy set, and though Lucy is no delicate flower herself the stranger was quite a formidable force! The woman kept punching her, and the neighbour was bleeding profusely, attempting to fight back. The stranger was oddly serene in her rage, even laughing-- it was really very surreal how calm everyone was.

Lucy's partner-- I believe his name is Jordan-- came out of the house, and with a cry, picked up the stranger and threw her over the fence. She landed on the ground painfully. Then she got up, staring intently at the house, then retreated out of sight. She was only just out of sight, though, as I saw her when I went to pick Penny up from school half an hour later.

If she's still there tomorrow, I may go out and talk to her.

Lucy was a bit traumatized, to say the least. She was oddly blase about it, though-- she said she was "expecting it." Apparently the woman who attacked her was one of the people who 'corrupted' her son. I feel like anyone that far off the path of spiritual health is in need of aid. Lucy smiled, and said that she didn't think anyone who took her son from her deserved help. She said she'd rather be an avenging angel than a kind, forgiving one. I didn't really know what to say. I felt a little sorry for her, at least. I can't imagine what it must have been like for her to lose her son. Well, I can, but I'd rather not dwell on it, for my own sanity.