Monday, September 19


So the trouble with MASC has already begun. I knew it would... but not so soon. It's a power struggle. They don't see us as people; we're a job. Right now, there's one of them for each of us, plus their boss. If we go outside, one of them follows us wherever we go. If gods forbid, one of us wants to leave the property, they get an armed escort. Ecko went out yesterday to look for Drake, and he had a surly armed guard the entire time.

You... assholes. Drake is a blind man. You should have a dozen people looking for him, and for Tim and for Lullaby, but no, Ecko is out there with one guy whose main concern is not finding Drake, but shadowing Ecko so he doesn't run off or get abducted; I'm not sure which. Aside from Ecko, none of us are in any shape to be combing the woods, else we'd all be out there making life interesting for MASC.

And today... the bulldozers showed up. What I liked about this place was that no one could see it from the road. MASC is paving the remains of the dirt road that led to it and... and architects and men in hard hats have been wandering around the place, looking over blueprints and gesturing at supporting walls in hushed tones. I want to run them all out of my house, but I can't.

It's not my house. Trevor Brood showed me a deed. MASC bought the land or declared imminent domain- I don't know. They own the house; they own the land. He says it's just to keep everything nice and legal so the actual owner doesn't object to the construction, but I know that's not true. They did it to spite me, to hold something else over my head, to keep us in their power.

I'm just... I feel so helpless. There's nothing I can do. And they are still badgering me with questions. I told them to read the Enuma Elish and then ask me their stupid questions. At least then we'd both be coming from the same direction, and I wouldn't have to explain myself in triplicate to people who have only the barest glimmer of the past hundred years, let alone several millennia before that. I mean, they had to have read my blog, so they should have already been up to speed.


  1. Welp, just so you know, I'm still in a cell. Hopefully I'm not an alien, I mean, I would be pretty sure I've not been dumped into this hell hole by an asteroid. Wouldn't I? :)

  2. :) Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor, Lucas. It's a good sign that they're allowing you computer access. They better be taking good care of you, or they'll be sorry. You're probably better off there than here right now with your injuries. I bet they regret letting us come back here, since none of us were willing to leave once they did. Hopefully *when they do let you come home*, the place will be a bit cleaner and settled.