02 Byte://written

[sooochangeable]

[There is no explanation for the scribbling. No signature, no definitive writing style or indication to who it could be. The screen has been blocked by something, the name - no where to be seen.

It's obvious someone is disguising their handwriting. But who? And why?

One thing's for sure. They're not in their right mind.]

bored


boredboredboredboredboredboredBOREDB O R E D


DEROB

already there's nothing to do. nothing to see nothing to plan nothing to doooooooo


bored

you lot are no help either

Sheep. All of you. No one dares question, fight or kick and scream. Like Schrödinger's cat. Dead and alive people. Dead and alive.

Just laying down and dying. Nobody clawing their way out of the box.

Bad kittens.

Don't worry. I'll help.

Someone has to teach you to live again. All of you, grown so comfortable in limbo. Disgusting.

Time to wake up.


Any cats that will claw and bite?

Any that already have?

Or are there any other Schrödingers here? The ones with all the questions and all the answers?

tick tock tick tock tick tock

[The journal was blocked, and would remain so.]

Comments

written

[relictusdeus]

If the men here were more inclined to fuck... perhaps I would.

[He would shamelessly admit to being 'a shameless sodomite' if fingers were pointed at him.]

We are all beasts, in the end. Some more than others.

[The words resonate with him, as if he has said them to someone before - and recently. Yet, for the life of him, he can't recall whom. Oh well.]

written

[sooochangeable]

Horny sheep, then.

My advice: Give yourself some 'metime' and get over it. No one here's worth fucking.

written

[relictusdeus]

[To Isaac, a 'horny sheep' means a ram, and that in turn suggests aggression and virility... which are not unfitting words to associate with him.]

How very considerate of you to think of me and to impart your wisdom.

written

[sooochangeable]

Like I said: I'm here to help.

written

[relictusdeus]

And to whom do I owe my gratitude?

Ah. Another time, perhaps, you might be more inclined to show your face.

[After a moment, he adds:]

You much enjoy this little game, don't you?

written

[sooochangeable]

[There's no answer to the question. Only a name for which he can be called.]

Rumplestilskin

written

[relictusdeus]

[Having no familiarity with the fairy tale, the name means nothing to him nor does he know it to even be a name. It seems like gibberish, quite frankly. He leaves the conversation at that, snapping his journal shut and looking for entertainment elsewhere. While it was somewhat brief, he won't be forgetting this exchange, however.]