This is Stupid

Anyone who's read through Nick's blog, and read through this stuff so far is probably wondering about why I never seem to want to get involved in any of this crap.

I was 12. It always starts when you're a kid. Some people get terrified and put it off for a while, but most of us start when we're 12 or so. There's always some development around years 6 and 7, which leads to a slow and strong growth of spiritual awareness. At least, that's what I can tell based on the stories I've heard from other people.

I remember being in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. You'll hear Nick joke sometimes, "LANCASTER! The center of EEEEEEVIL!"

He's not too far from the truth. From the Amish pot-growers to the Pennsyltucky hicks, it doesn't get much worse. There are other things that make them look minor though.

It was a cabal of necromancers out in Pennsyltucky. They're always an issue to someone like me. I'm, principally, a druid. Everyone has a tradition, whether they realize it or not. I hear the earth, and it is a fractured, self-contradicting mess. There is no one spirit of the earth, there are thousands scattered across our world making up a collective consciousness you might call "Gaea," and the bitch is constantly on the rag these days. I'd say I quit just because of that, but it's not true.

No, you see, it had to be necromancers. There's a cycle of life, and they pervert it. Things die, they pass on, their bodies decompose and their energy returns into the cycle until it creates something new. We're not talking about souls and reincarnation, just a natural cycle of energy constantly in flow. It's nature, it's the world, it's how it works.

Necromancers take that energy, and they rip it from the natural order, forcing it to act as they desire. The land suffers for their greed. Sometimes they use it to speak with the dead, Nick would tell you all the good things that a necromancer will do for people. That doesn't matter to me, because they're still doing it FOR PEOPLE. The natural order of things means squat to them. At least Nick, when he's wearing his Shaman hat, is clean. He draws it all in, and then pushes it back out. He seeks harmony with the world, not destruction.

They knew I was in Lancaster. They could sense me smoothing out the wrinkles and helping the natural order WORK. They had their plans, and they wanted to use those wrinkles to become unto gods. So they went after your friendly neighborhood Green Man, Almighty Janitor of Lancaster.

Over six months in 2003, they tried to kill me. I was better than any one of them, but there were twelve of them and one of me.  After one particularly bad night, it all stopped. I was dying, and I pressed up against a tree outside my house. I felt Gaea, and I was angry. This was how my life was going to end.

Then I said no. And the next day, I read in the paper about a group of people found dead in their barn, all having had heart attacks at the exact same time. Very mysterious. Very creepy. Very much what I do.

And I traveled the world, and Gaea was a mess everywhere. More necromancers and greedy bastards, and nothing I did really changed anything. Six months later, it'd be back to where it was before. And when I stopped doing what I did, someone else took my place. I didn't have to be a cog in the machine.

Nick never understood that. He's another working part, and someone will replace him if he ever goes away. He's not the only one who can do what he does, and sooner or later when he gets himself killed someone a lot like him will show up to do his job.

You know what though? One of these stupid men who aren't men anymore (you call them "Proxies") nearly killed me. This "Mastermind" had me shoved in a dark room with a TV for a few weeks. There are idiots everywhere, and this is stupid.

So fuck you all. Green Man is in play. You brought me back, and I am an ill-tempered, ornery motherfucker.

Let's Cut the Bullshit, shall We?

Alice got bored; she felt like putting a boot up our asses. So here our fucked up little party stands, mostly strong and already bickering in the eyes of the public. Smart move there, guys, let's show the followers how big of assholes we can be to each other and the people that give a shit. Whatever.

I got suckered in by a couple pair of puppy dog eyes, a very big hammer, and some passive aggressive sticky notes. What the fuck is up with those sticky notes, I don't know, but.. I digress. We're supposed to save the world or something. Nick's too busy to have bothered with us lately, so we've been under "protection" or some such shit. What that really boils down to is that we've been grounded, complete with babysitters and no "contact with strangers", but of course we don't listen. I'm surprised he actually thought we would..

I'm Cutter, the resident jagoff here. I tried to vote this little blog out of existence, but the boobs won. I mean, the females. I mean.. well, everyone's pretty gung ho about trying to save people. And stuff. I think it's just an excuse to get out of the house that might very well get us killed.

What I'm saying here is this: You shouldn't have left us to stew in our own aggression for so long, Amalgamation. We're getting a nasty case of cabin fever, and this state is just full of pissed off little demons and baddies that we can take out our frustration on. This post is my way of saying, "Hi, fuck you very much, we're going out. Might wind up saving your ass if we can't find anything better to do."

Don't try to stop us, either. We've already left. Not that you actually pay attention these days..

Alice fluttered her lashes when I told her we might see you soon, and Viv? She just rolled her eyes and went back to researching St. Peter's Church on 4th and Pine. We have an appointment with a horse-drawn carriage.

Hey there

Okay, I'm around and kicking. Alice wants us to introduce ourselves, so here I am. Viviane. The one otherwise known as 'Spinner', or Viv. I meant to post a bit earlier, but there was a small situation involving a spider, a lizard, and a crossbow.

Blogs are nothing but trouble most of the time. And no, I'm not saying they attract trouble. Trouble finds people whether they have blogs or not. The ones with the blogs are just the ones that you hear about. Because people go out of their way to ignore the trouble of others most of the time, unless it's shoved right under their noses. That's the way it works, a high percentage of the time, unfortunately.

I guess that's what Alice wants to avoid. Our ignoring things like that. Anyway, I mostly just mean they're a bit of a bother. I should know, I kept journals a lot as a kid. It's like keeping up with a diary, only you're letting the whole world read it. Joy. I'll be making the best of it, though. We've all got stories to tell, both independently and together.

A record of our actions, to keep us accountable. Or something like that. Or maybe just something so people know we exist and aren't dead. That's a big part of it, from what I can tell.

I should go, anyway. I hear the a little something brewing in the other room. So I guess you people get to hear about our troubles now. And we'll be following up on yours. Might as well, considering I have a slew of urls memorized at this point. Two weeks of a constant onslaught of reading and videos can do that to you. I might have a few of them run together at this point, but most likely not.

That and the fact that things are more than a little... iffy at the moment. Rising of figureheads and symbols, falling of the same, people dying, instability all around. Alice wants to get out there and do things. She wants to help people. Well, I didn't have any plans for the summer, anyway.

THE GLORIOUS HERO!

SINCE WE'RE ALL TALKING ABOUT OURSELVES, I THOUGHT I'D TAKE A MINUTE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO YOUR GLORIOUS HERO.

Coming live from his bombed out house between rounds of making $300 swords for geeks and collectors on the internet, he stands ready to challenge all comers! Strong from years of "training", skilled with hammer and drunk as a skunk, HE CANNOT BE STOPPED.

Who is this legendary weapon maker, this Forgemaster extraordinaire? Why, it is I! The eponymous, illusive, prodigious, elegant, verbose, void of warranty and endless in exposition FORGEMASTER!

GASP as he makes the impossible real.
be ASTOUNDED as he makes really cool shit.
get  BORED as he makes his commute to his workshop, which was attached to his house, which he gets to cry over every time he works. It was burned down by an INSANE UNDEAD EGOMANIAC!

So yeah. Going to get another beer, think about how badly screwed up my life is, and maybe make some asshole a claymore. What do you want from me?

To Start Things Off

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Alice, but you proooobably know me as 'Weaver'. Ever since Nick got me, 'Spinner' and 'Cutter' out of Buffalo, we've been sitting here being babysat by 'Forgemaster' and 'Green Man' (I'm not outing their real names, I'll let them take care of that if they want to).

Except for that little incident (Kidnapped, made to watch/read enough blogs and vlogs to make our eyes cross, then dropped back at home two weeks later, thanks for asking), we've been fine. Dull, but fine. Trying to stay out of sight, like we're supposed to. And it's worked great.

But, here's the thing. I'm not really keen on sitting here on my ass and waiting for Nick or 'Time Lord' to call us into the action. Especially since it's pretty obvious that we're not much safer staying here. And blogs... well, as I've seen for myself, if you start a blog, you're not sitting on the sidelines for very long.

That can only be a good thing. We're not helpless, nor are we weak. Just because we're not quite at Nick's level doesn't mean we have to be kept safe in the corner, out of danger. There's nothing stopping them from taking the fight to us, and I'd much, much rather take the fight to them. That's what we're supposed to do, after all, that's why we have this power. Uncle Ben was right, after all. We've got the great power, let's take some responsibility!

So, I'm making them all post. Expect to hear from them all within the next week or so.