Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Nephilim Incident (Part One)

(I found Nick Dwyer's drafts about this. They were terrible. I deleted them from scratch and rewrote them. It was necessary. -Maiden)

Nick does not talk about this incident, or any of the incidents relating to it, because there is no good explanation. Even among those who have seen beyond the edge of the world, those who run in his circles, would dismiss it as being the fantasy of a lost soul. I can tell you however, without any shadow of a doubt that this story happened.

It is complicated. When this occurred is a time between when The Presence was kidnapped and when Nick became fused with Usurper.

Nick Dwyer was ascendant. He has overcome his past self when all design was made to force him to succumb. He did not mention this, did he? He was supposed to be the delivery system through which Usurper could act upon the world. In turn, he took Usurper and turned him into just another aspect. The first of seven changes.

In any case, he'd gained all of Usurpers talents. On the astral plane, He was faster, stronger, his senses were more effective, and most importantly he had become tough. Wounds that would have left him helpless with an unending migraine before would heal in minutes. There was nothing he could not defeat, at least, that was what he felt.

Two days after he was fused with Usurper, The "Rogue Wizard", in his own inimitable fashion, broke through his wards on the astral plane and killed his guards. Nick stood there in his shower late in the evening, completely defenseless.

This had not been the first time this would happen, nor would it be the last. If you want to put someone at a psychological disadvantage, even if you're only attacking on the astral plane, you attack them when they're naked or showering. Their mind is not focused, they've got water pattering on their skin which distracts one further, and they can't move with their physical body too quickly without causing a mess.

Perhaps that last one is not so important if someone is trying to kill you? I can't say.

For his credit, Nick just forced a grin and said, "I beat your thugs and broke your toys. Go home before I break you too."

And that was when Rogue Wizard threw a black knife. It struck Nick with such force, that his physical body actually collapsed in the shower.

For five minutes, the water pattered off of Nick's empty, lifeless shell of a body, before he breathed in sharply. Gasping for air he spent another five minutes laying there, praying to whatever gods he could think of that he might survive.

On the astral plane, spirits went to work. What they did not tell Nick was that he'd encountered one of the ancient weapons. You see, there are weapons in the world so powerful that they have transcended mere physical construction and become ideas. Longinus, Excalibur, Mjolnir, ideas potent enough that minor mystics call on them to defend themselves or attack their enemies in difficult times. Simply invoking these ideas correctly can make you more dangerous.

Nick Dwyer had been struck by Corruption. The idea wasn't invoked, it was literally picked up and thrust into his chest by someone actually capable of wielding it. You've heard the name Corruption several times over the course of all of this. Corruption would eat away at his insides, tearing him apart and rebuilding him as a monster with one purpose: the destruction of all life. At least, that's what the medics believed. That was after all, the fate of anyone struck by Corruption.

The Rogue Wizard had finally decided that if Nick Dwyer would not fulfill his original task, that he had to be eliminated. Without any doubt, this method would destroy him and take him out of the picture. The Presence had nothing to do with this.

This was also the first hint to everyone involved in our story that Nick Dwyer was beyond merely strange. After all, his body held the impact of Corruption in stasis at this point. As Nick pulled himself up out of the shower, and forced himself into bed, all entities prepared to kill him should he awaken as some sort of spirit devouring beast intent to feast on the world.

They were still waiting two days later.

And that was when Nick Dwyer received a phone call from Alan. ("Time Lord")

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


Rainbowbitch stole my laptop. Communicating with phone. We're okay. Pissed, but okay. I owe you Presence story. We'll be back soon.

He tries so hard. It's time to talk about the Nephilim, while he's busy, I think.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

They're Hard to Kill

I spent the last week trying to kill our mutual friends.

They ARE persistent. Skilled even. This is important. I think I'm done with them for now.

I'm sure they'll tell you all about it sooner or later.

After they've complained a bit, I think I'll repost old material that Nick seems to have worked on at varying points over the years. You cannot understand the story of The Presence without it. In fact, none of what happened makes any sense unless you discuss the "Nephilim" situation which occurred before her capture.

My what tangled webs we weave.

-Good Day-

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

An Aside: The End of March, When Nick Met Redlight

It happened April 7th. I want you to imagine with me:

The midday light filters through the windows of the diner, which was a hole in the wall if you've ever seen one. There's something about the worn wood tables and the 70's tile-work that seems one part comforting, two parts charmingly tacky. It's quiet, with the hum of the coffee machine and the sounds of plates being washed making noise in lieu of actual conversation. Perhaps there are two or three other diners, reading a paper or sipping at acrid coffee, staring into space.

The door chimes, and a new patron enters.

It's almost inperceptible, but the air in the place... constricts. It becomes stagnant, like a tomb or an old library. It's slightly uncomfortable, but most wouldn't notice. The man himself walks slowly, hands in his pockets, whistling a note or two of... something or other. It could be classical. Could be Sinatra.

"It seems that you, Mr. Dwyer, can be quite a hard man to find." He politely offers, sliding into the adjacent seat of the booth. Eerie, inhuman amber eyes glitter from behind a fringe of spiky, salt and pepper hair. His voice is smooth, calm, every word measured. A familiar face, with unfamiliar confidence.

Not Spencer Fitzgerald. Not anymore.

Nick smiles a little, and leans back in his chair. He's been reading a book with the title of "Literacy with an Attitude". He puts the book down and rest his hands behind his head.

"You know? I think about you, and I think more about the Ballad of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Down he goes...Dum de dah dah, dum dah dah dum, Der dah something Edmund Fitzgerald..."

"Spencer Fitzgerald is dead." The grin is still shockingly pleasant and polite. "Not a scrap left of him. Some would think it's a shame; I'm assuming you're not among them."

Nick considers this briefly.

"Oh, I think you're both bottom feeding scum suckers, catfish potentially. But he was a bottom feeding scumsucker with panache. You? You're Edmund Fitzgerald, the ballad of a ship lost at sea...Would you like me to get you something while you're here?"

"I think I'm fine. Though the offer is much appreciated." Redlight’s eyes narrow, if only slightly. "I don't know why I expected you to treat this meeting with some sort of respect - hm, shame on me... and regardless, here we stand. It's truly a pleasure to meet you." His head tilts to the side slightly, as if he's picked up the habit from a certain tall and slender man...

"Oh Edmund, do be fair! I'm giving all the respect in the world! After all, nobody's bleeding yet. So what do I owe this glorious meeting to?"

Redlight’s voice goes soft. "So what do you owe indeed... I came here, Mr. Dwyer, because I wanted to see the man that was the downfall of my rather pathetic predecessor. To see who tried to outplay, but was outplayed in return. And I do have to admit, I don't think I'll be making the same mistake that he did." His voice never rises above anything but comforting playfulness. If one didn't know better, they'd see the young man as a polite, normal person...

"Trying to gain the measure of a man? I've always been fond of a tape measurer for that. I find it interesting. You don't have a network yet. You were willing to come here unarmed and running on nothing but fumes and triumph...you're awfully confident aren't you?"

Nick sips some coffee.

Then Nick says, "They do really, really good coffee here. Are you sure you don't want some?"

Redlight thrums his fingers on the table, once, twice, before leaning back. "Do you take me for an idiot, Dwyer? A fool? Some sort of self-sacrificing mongrel?" A slight quirk of a grin on the last part. "I do have my failsafes. Though I'm quite confident I won't need them. This is a chance, Nick. A chance for us to... meet on equal ground before the game truly begins. To meet the man that's going to outplay you." Redlight said it as a statement of fact. Like 2 + 2 = 4, or 'the sky is blue'. "I figured that I'd give you that privilege."

"Indeed. It's good to know you know how outclassed you are. I wouldn't have said anything about how I'd outplay you though... You see, I'm a gentleman. I try to maintain a bit of decorum."

Nick lets his chair touch the ground, and he smiles at Redlight.

Redlight laughs, the sound almost muted, as if they were both underwater, returning a similar grin. "I should've expected that. It's a shame, Nick Dwyer. Games are never any fun when the other side seems intent on losing." He stares up at the ceiling, thoughtful. "People will die. Oh yes, many, many people will die. Such is the nature of this game, after all! Is this all still very funny, then?"

"None of you ever really understood me. It's always rather funny to me, Edmund. Everyone always makes the same old mistakes. I at least try to make those mistakes for the right reasons. This would have been over a long, long time ago if I'd given up on a few of my rules...I think about that sometimes. But then, I need those rules."

Redlight still doesn't look at the other man. "Everyone needs rules, Mr. Dwyer. Everyone needs guidelines of how far you're willing to go into the abyss, lest it starts to stare into you." He sighs, the sound melodous. Quiet. "There's a very fine line between a man and a monster, after all. Imagine how powerful you'd be if you played both sides?"

Redlight's unblinking amber gaze is back now. And the grin spreads wider.

Nick says "Hmmmm. I saw this coming you know. I was afraid to tell you, after all, you already knew. Ah well. What's done is done I suppose. You do realize that you're not actually "redlight", don't you?"

 Redlight responds: "It's really a… Moniker. Name. Title. Label. It makes no difference to me. It's what I've been given, and so I intend to use it." Bandaged fingers come together, tips just barely touching, hovering in front of his face. "I-mor-tality.” Redlight intones, “Interesting, what others throw away as a last bid for survival. Perhaps it was unwise to aspire to such a thing in the first place." He closes his eyes. “Perhaps he didn't aim high enough."

Nick says, "What you are is the creation of a tired beast that wanted to grow beyond it's station. It managed a few thousand children a year, and decided it wanted more. You, that Valtiel thing, Writer, you're all just the thoughtless aspirations of a Fear that wanted more. You are the desire for power made real, at the cost of a man and his soul, Edmund. An experiment in the ways of power, with a limited purpose and limited potential. This is as strong as you will ever become, and unlike the rest of humanity, though your set strength is quite impressive, you will never evolve beyond this point. The original Redlight knew this, and tried to find a way to get beyond his creator and evolve as a normal human might. The truth is, you were dead the moment you stopped being Spencer Fitzgerald, and became the doomed Edmund Fitzgerald."

Redlight grunts.  His expression falls to one of unamused deadpan. He says, "You are not going to be hard to impress."
Nick says, "I've seen heaven and hell and everything inbetween. It'll be harder than you think. And are you sure you don't want something? I've got a Reuben coming, and they make a damn good one here."

Redlight shakes his head, standing, suddenly looking very... uninterested. As if Nick wasn't even worth his time. "I do hope that your nonchalance isn't something you grow to regret, Mr. Dwyer. I do suggest you watch the first few moves of this game. Because despite your experience..."

And then, THEN, Everyone in the diner, they... change. All their various eye colours going to amber. All of them turning to stare at the two. Previously normal, now hallowed out, all within a second. 


A red bracelet on the waitress.
The man in the next booth is wearing a red tie.
The woman sitting at the counter has on a deep crimson blouse.

Redlight turns his back, shoving one hand in his pocket, the other left to wave lazily over his shoulder.

"You obviously have a lot to learn. Goodnight, Nick."

"Oh. There's one thing." Nick says as he stands up, following after "Edmund", still holding his coffee. "I keep asking myself the same question. WWMD."

Redlight just barely glances over his shoulder.

Nick continued,"Never heard the term? It means 'What would Mitch do?'"

Nick tries to throw his cup’s worth of hot coffee into Redlight’s eyes. But only black leaves are left where Redlight was half a second ago. Two of them, in fact, floating towards the tiled floor.

"You're going to have to better than that." Redlight says as he brushes past him from behind. 

"Goodbye, Nick. And for your sake, I hope the odds of this game are somewhat in your favour."

Nick grits his teeth a little, "Damn. You’re that good at that now? Oh well. Let's play."

Redlight's laughing as he pushes open the door, leaving only the sea of amber eyes in his wake. "Soon. You'll know when the game is on."

 "Edmund Fitzgerald, I will fucking destroy you."

 Nick sits back down at his table. His reuben sandwich arrives.

After a moment’s thought, Nick then says, "Hey! Sorry, can I get more coffee?"

Redlight is gone. As Nick calls for coffee, the sea of amber eyes reverts to normal, and everyone goes back to what they were doing before the confrontation began.

(Tell me, is my writing getting better? I sought to depict that moment from a month ago that none of you saw. How did I do? -"Maiden")

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

(Fine. Here's what I put away. It's not so bad to think about it now. -Nick)

Nick has tried to write this story many times. Started to many times. Broke down and quit many times, swearing to try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day.

I can't watch anymore. So I'm writing it for him.

Day 19. 11pm. The first time I got to meet Nick in person, and Green Man too. The three of us got together at Nick's apartment. Nothing special, to an outside eye, just sitting there. But it was actually a lot more than that.

The Presence was corrupted and out of control, and had been for the past 6 years. Green Man had finally agreed to kill Her.

But... this sort of thing is complicated, especially when working astrally. Nick has tried to put Her out of Her misery many times before, but he's never quite been able to accomplish it. Part of it was that he always held back, no matter how badly he wanted both their suffering to end. Part of it was that, even if did manage to somehow nullify the Presence, they were connected so intimately that his memories of Her, his doubt that She would ever truly leave his life, always somehow brought Her back to him, and the torment would start all over again.

Green Man was to counter that first weakness. I was to counter the second. My job was... to watch, basically. To be objective, outside confirmation of the Presence's death.

I wound up doing a bit more than that, but that comes later.
Nick has mentioned before that Green Man has some kind of impenetrable armor around him, armor that stayed with him even when he chose to give up this whole astral business. So he would be basically invincible for the first 5 or 6 minutes of the fight. Green Man was also, for a myriad of reasons, invulnerable to the Presence's illusions, illusions She used to tap-dance all over Nick's mind and heart for far too long. We took every precaution to give Green Man every conceivable advantage possible.

I asked Green Man if he was really going to kill Her.

Green Man said, "Yes. I am."

Nick said at the same time, "At this point, I don't have a life. I'm basically defending myself from Her horseshit about twelve hours a day, non-stop, for the past six years. Six years in hell. I can't go on like this, Val, not if Stick Man's gonna be gunning for me too."

I instantly felt bad for even asking, because it wasn't as though absolutely every other recourse short of nuclear weapons and hard drugs hadn't been tried dozens of times over. Nick loved Her. He still does. He wouldn't ask this of us lightly.

So we went to work.

The first thing I remember was a lot of explosions. Both Nick and Green Man insisted that I stay quite far away until the dust settled - near enough that they were still within my sight, but far enough that it would be more trouble than it was worth for Her to come after me instead. So I couldn't see a lot of the details of the fight, but I know it was enormous.

In an attempt to better understand what was going on, I tried to extend my senses towards the fight. I remember seeing/feeling a small, intense patch of pale light for Nick, and a smooth sort of blank spot for Green Man - or rather, Green Man's armor - and when I found the Presence...

There was a jerking sensation in the pit of my stomach, that same feeling of panicked disorientation you get when you expect your next step to be a solid one, only to find that the ground beneath your feet is gone.

It was a complete accident. I just... fell. I fell, and fell, and kept falling until "falling" was no longer a sensation that had any meaning. Everything was a dark gray swamp that pressed against me from all sides, made of nothing bug pure corruption. But no matter how much it all pushed, it was nothing but empty, empty, empty. Scorched out and hollow, with nothing but ravenous emptiness left behind.

It's a sensation I'm familiar with, now.

But then, for a few moments, there wasn't nothing. Inside all of the nothing, floating right up next to me, was a tiny white spark. And the spark was a child. And the child just looked at me sadly. She kept saying, "You should go." Nothing but those three words.

I tried asking who she was. But there was no answer.

You should go.

I tried to take her hand. But she wasn't Real.

You should go.

I tried to convince her to get out of this place. The corruption would destroy her.


Just... You should go.

I was becoming increasingly aware of the danger I was in, staying there. The entire time, the area shook as though it were rocked with blow after blow. The empty pushed in at me on all sides too, trying to make me implode and become as hollow as it.

But I refused to leave. I couldn't just abandon her there, no matter what she was.

"You should go," she said.

And then... nothing but intense, astonishing regret.

The spark vanished. Just... blew away like dust.

And then I was back. Not just back to watching, but back to myself. The fight was over, and Green Man and Nick were both looking at me expectantly.

I drew my knees up to my chest to hide the shaking. In a halting voice, I tried to explain what happened, and I think I got most of it across.

Naturally, Nick's first reaction was to apologize over and over.

Green Man was a bit more practical. He asked me questions until he had a basic idea of what happened and why it happened.

"The method I used was directly linked to, essentially, a grounding. Anti-magick, or a realer-than-real spot." Green Man shook his head. He looked exhausted, but not as utterly drained as Nick. "Couldn't touch Her any other way," he said. "Had to kill Her magic before I could kill Her."

I said, "I still don't understand how that explains it. I thought She was supposed to be amazing. How did I get inside Her?"

Green Man looked at me. "At the end, She had no defenses whatsoever."


Nick put his head in his hands, and his voice was ragged. "I'm sorry. I didn't think trying to see could get you hurt. I'm really, really, really sorry."

I said, "I'm not hurt. Just... stunned, I guess. I didn't know I could do that."

Nick paused for a long time. "I remember right before it all started," he said. "Six years ago... She begged me to kill Her. I couldn't do it."

"She wanted to spare you all of this, Nick," I said. "She knew where it was going."

His hands clenched into fists. "She was alive. She had a full life ahead, she'd gotten Her revenge. I just don't understand!"

"She was completely empty inside," I said. "Utterly hollowed. There was nothing left but that tiny spark, and... if it's any consolation, that spark was fulled with regret."

Green Man piped up then. "I have a theory that puts this all in a positive light. I mean, if She isn't actually a human entity in entirety, She's gone for good. However, if She does have a physical body somewhere, She may simply end up being deeply rooted in the mundane. Stuck there, so to speak. And given that's how I spend most of my time these days, it's not an altogether horrible--"

Nick growled. "[Green Man]. Just because you can't stand the feeling of connecting to anything doesn't mean everyone does. You scare me sometimes. Not to mention that, you know what would have been really easy? If you had actually tried to help me SIX YEARS AGO."

Green Man didn't bat an eye. "The entire point of my training these days is about being connected--"

"You have this thing where you'll notice eventualities," Nick interrupted, "and then hide from them. I think it'll be easier if you don't do that in the future."

"If it hadn't been now," Green Man said calmly, "I wouldn't have had the tools to do it at all."

This was clearly an argument the two of them have had far too many times.

I said, softly, "I... connect to everything, whether I want to or not. And I don't not want to, even to Her. Even now."

Finally, Nick looked away. "Fuck you for being right," he muttered. "Fuck you, and fuck Fate for fucking us all for six years..."
Green Man rolled his eyes. "There are other ways of being connected than astrally, and if She's a real human, She'll just have to explore them."

Nick ignored him. "Val, we both have the same feelings when it comes to being connected. I've spent 6 years being blinded, struck with illusions, and generally shoved through the cosmic equivalent of a garbage disposal... I'm not trying to argue anything, really. I just... really needed someone other than me who can sense this, to be sure that it's finally over."

Part of what I do is knowing when words are meaningless. Any way you put it, Nick would be, and still is, a long time in recovering from an ordeal like this. There was nothing I could say to him that he hadn't already told himself a hundred times over, and wouldn't tell himself a hundred times again, and still wouldn't be able to convince himself entirely that he had done the right thing.

I stood up. And I hugged him.

"It's over," I promised.

And it was over. Mostly.

But... you know that feeling when you just feel compelled to do something? Actually... I'm sure most of you reading this don't know that feeling, but people like me, Nick, and Ellen feel it quite often. This principle had slipped my mind at the time, but when you meet someone on that deep of a level, virtually the level of their innermost soul... it leaves a mark.

That night when I got home - over a year ago today, back before I was so fearful of outside influences, but no less susceptible to them - I was drawn outside, to the enormous maple tree in the center of my backyard. I didn't tell Nick or Green Man, but... the shadows of nothingness clung like cobwebs, and I needed to get them off.

I don't actually remember much of what happened next. It might be for the best. But when we met, the spark and I, She left a... an imprint, I guess. A template of Herself, Her real self, burried deep in my subconscious. I didn't even recognize or comprehend the ritual I found myself performing, but whatever it was, it was powerful. Powerful enough to attract the attention of dozens of entities all around the area, powerful enough to let me recognize them for what they were.

Powerful enough to hide my house from the gaze of the malignant? I don't know.

What I do know is, I saw her again. The spark, the little girl. Only in much, much clearer detail. She had short blonde hair that was tied partially up on one side, a white shirt underneath a blue dress with a lace hem and a little black string tied above her waist. She was very young, no older than twelve. And she was smiling.

She was smiling.

I was suddenly aware that this little girl's name was Stacia, just like I was suddenly aware of exactly what I had to do with the imprint the Presence left on me.

With more skill than I thought I posessed (skill that probably wasn't actually mine, if I'm honest with myself), I took the template and hid it in a special pocket of space, a sort of astral vault. Then I wove the energy around the template itself to protect and dispell, and to eventually draw back when the time was right.

See, it was then that I fully understood what Green Man accomplished hours earlier. What he was able to do with raw power that Nick couldn't do with skill. In destroying the Prence's body, he had violently divorced Her inner self from the corruption that had twisted Her, mind and heart, and completely taken Her over. Because I had "fallen in" the way I did, an imprint of Her latched onto me in the moment of Her death, and Her soul scattered to the stars to purify from the distortion it had undergone. When it was healed, She would be drawn back to the template and be born anew.

Stacia promised me this, and I believe Her.

So then there was only one thing left to do.

The bad news was, Nick, Green Man, and I had to return to the site of the fight and annihilate the corruption that was left behind when She died.

The good news was, this was actually the easiest part of the whole ordeal.

It was Day 18 on Nick's "Days Remaining" calender. We three went back to the same place as before, and the field of corruption was enormous. From the ground, it went as far as the eye could see. From above, it had boundaries, but they weren't fixed. If it had been on this plane, it would have been the size of four city blocks or more. It was dense. It was dark. It was moving.

Worst of all, it was watching. It could see us there, and that's more than can be said for most sentient entities. This thing... I don't know what it was, and hopefully I'll never know.

Nick just stared right back. "I remember the darkness," he said softly. "Whoever they were, they took Her, twisted Her, and let Her loose on the world. She deserved better. No one deserved the life She had."

I found it sad that he didn't qualify that no one deserved the life he had either.

Nick scowled and said, "When in doubt, nuke the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure."

And that's exactly what he did.

And by the time he was finished, with more anger than emotion than I thought (at the time) was possible from him... we were, in fact, sure. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

That was the end of it. Forever.

I told Nick afterward what I had done in my backyard the night before. About the little girl named Stacia, with her blue dress and her smiling face. About the promise that the Presence would be back someday, though he might not recognize Her when he saw Her. He took it... better than I thought he would. I think it helped that he finally had a target to blame for the past 6 years, one he could go all out against.

He told me not to tell him where the template was hidden, so he couldn't inadvertantly bring Her back before She was ready. I said okay, and gave him another hug.

After a long, uncomfortable minute, he hugged me back, and said, "Thank you."

So that's it. Now you know. Now Nick can get on with what he has to do in relative peace.

There are still a few more things that I have to do, though.

Keep an eye out for me. Remember who I am in the times when I can't. It helps more than you comprehend.

~Hakurei Ryuu

We just got hacked by Hakurei Ryuu

Nick's pissed.

Hakurei Ryuu got into the blog somehow, and left a post about the night The Presence died.

He just got rid of the post and couldn't look at the computer. He's throwing punches and doing a training routine. And crying.

I know the look. He really wants to break the world right now. It can't be a good memory for him. Or maybe it's that Ryuu just threw up his personal garbage for everyone to see. He doesn't want to talk, so I won't ask.

It doesn't help that we found out that the New Redlight may have Fitzgerald's body, but absolutely nothing of his mind remains. Kind of terrifying. Nick gave a little spiel about "he didn't turn his into a synch and lock it away in his soul, he was overwhelmed by it and became the beast..."

That needs explanation. I'm not qualified to give it. I'm just one person with no extra bits, damn it.

Anyways, he doesn't want anybody to see that post I guess?

I'm really not sure what to do right now. Or whether or not I care. "The Presence" was a fucking bitch, and she deserved what she got coming to her. Damned if I can't understand why he cares so damn much.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

I don't really know what to do

Nick apologized pretty heavily about the other day. He said a lot about how he was an insensitive prick. We're on speaking terms again.

He's been so lifeless since we found that building and that cage. I'm worried.

So! People trapped in this mess, lets recap: you have a new "Redlight". This is apparently a scary thing. He's putting together a new "network" like the one Nick destroyed a while back. A lot of good people are dying. There's a lot of dirty shit happening to you people.

It doesn't help that we've spent the last few months going around and finding old friends of his for a traditional suicide mission.

He's not sleeping. He doesn't want to do anything. Ennui is NOT effective for his combat training. I need him upright and operating. He has to go out there, and cause the proper kind of mayhem that we all know him for.

I need IDEAS people. How do I get his sorry ass motivated?