Breath Is Just A Clock...Ticking

Well here we are again. Another year. It's all fresh and new, or so they'd have you believe. About the only thing that really changes is the faces on the corpses at my feet. Maybe some see that as bleak. I'm still having fun though. As long as there are people out there, real people who are happy to die, kill or bring life back into this city, I'll keep doing this. Especially since there are so many trusting, naive townies to take advantage of.

I spent a good deal these last two months down in MCM. It felt good to converse with some of my former targets as well as the staff and students there. South Blythville is a fun town and I couldn't resist the occasional random murder. A number of more specific targets got in my way. However I never hunted Sarge Johnson and I still for the life of me can't remember why he was on my naughty list. Oh well, he's dead now. Zerger hardcoreFAKing died too.

And with the best of intentions I stayed on at MCM, assisting as a meat shield mostly, as I did very little killing while in the area. Cobra13 made an appearance as well. I'm a little disappointed that he didn't mutilate my corpse, like he promised some...well almost a year ago now. And then there was norfolk n good aka doberman guy. His opinion really meant nothing to me since, well, he's zerg listed.

But apparently getting killed by zergs DEM, barricading for MCM and talking was being hostile, at least, according one supposed DEM leader and Tookey...it all got very repetitive. Especially since I was well aware of the neutral zone policies oh...about six months ago when I violated them to help out a friend who's since left Malton. In any case, the idiots who got all upset over getting murdered over six months ago have escallated due to a deficit of attention. I suppose they figure the more idiotic they act, the more publicity. Which might be true, but there are steaming piles of idiots all across Malton. Indeed there are billions of them right across the planet. What difference is one more dead one? Why should I waste my energy? I achieved what I was trying to do with a couple bullets in the right place six months ago. To dwell on that would be pretty stupid especially when there are much more interesting, fun targets all around me. It's always how I've managed to perservere in spite of and because of adversity. I have fun. I kill, I am killed, I laugh, I win. I enjoy watching others flail about and eventually become drowned out, swallowed up by pits of their own bullshit. Cruelty doesn't even come into it when one considers the state of affairs in Malton. And I won't deny I'm cruel, manipulative, condescending, detatched, spiteful, wrathful and sometimes downright arrogant. I don't deny that at all. I never claimed to be a saint. I do however, come off like a martyr. Just like christ heh. There's one vital difference though: I don't love my enemies. I have no enemies. They don't exist.

Anyhow, it was time to make some heads roll. Tasselhoff Burfoot died in place of doberman guy who was incapacitated by the time I was ready to fire.

The real reason I wasn't doing much killing was because I was waiting for the right moment to give a lecture. But I absolutely had to formally invite Josh Clark since he was good enough to put me in one of his little propaganda films.



The lecture never happened. But the demonstration I had planned with a couple other rummers, namely dipcup, Duke D'ouevre and Claybourne Duvall went off with a bang.



But my presence in MCM was becoming a bit of a problem. Not for the staff or students but for the Bounty Hunters and the idiots.

So I slept off campus for a while. Naturally I figured one of the 9000 bounty hunters in the area would take advantage of this. And fortunately it was the lovely Fyra Twill. Arthur, to answer your question: I love the south west and yes, I was indeed enjoying the area. The reason I didn't answer you back was because I had to run across town to thank Fyra for stopping by.



I came to rest in the Catcott building in Mornington with aPathetic Bill. I wasn't sure I'd wake up alive. I wasn't certain I wouldn't. But I didn't. Not so much as a call the next day when I was still pretty sure I existed. Hmph. At least Team America were pleased to see me, even if I did miss their christmas carol spectacular inside MCM.

And then there was Brian Mercat. He'd been making claims in MCM. Can't really fault him for it. Myself and a number of others were easy prey there and he wasn't using the neutral zone except to hunt. I'm a little disappointed that he didn't come and claim me again. Perhaps I should be grateful? Either way, I had Red Rum business over in Vinetown. That lecture was going to have to wait yet again. And so myself, the Duke, dipcup and a number of other rummers ran all the way across town. The best part of this was that the bounty hunters were three days behind. So I had a little time to do some celebrating.













And the all was merry and bright. A close personal friend even dropped by to share some rum.



Of course, I tend to over exert myself on holidays. I popped next door to a railway station to sleep off my hangover. This was where I met Stu Lantz, a bright, dashing or, at the very least enthusiastic chap with overly amourous tendancies. I must say, I do have a soft spot for romantics. And Stu was definitely no exception. Indeed, after he axed me for my digits, I was compelled to hit him back.



This left me out in the middle of Houldenbank. And I found myself dead again the next day at the hands of some random brutish amatuer. But all was not lost. Stu was kind enough to arrange a revive for me. And I must say, I don't think I've ever been pricked quite so...uniquely.

I was rather surprised to find some interesting people over this way. I suppose I haven't really given the area much of a chance. Whenever I've been over in Vinetown, Osmondville or the surrounds, it's usually been a brief visit.

In any case, it was new years eve and I decided to spend it it with one of these interesting locals. Much of that night was spent talking...I had a feeling it wouldn't be our last meeting though so I wasn't disappointed to see that Stu had up and wandered off when I woke up.

And it was business as usual the next day. Some random murderer posing as a cop caught the brunt of my hangover. But as I was wandering around outside the night before, looking for a revive point, I noticed a certain "upstart" bounty hunter. I say upstart. Really she's top of her game and almost ready to retire. One of the few bounty hunters in Malton I respect as, not only a peer but an elite huntress. In fact, I'd not even been looking for her as I hadn't ever expected to find her before her retirement. Again I'll chalk this one up as kismet smiling upon me.



Then it was back to business as usual. Cliff Machete died, as did Bad Touch Bob. But Bad Touch Bob was just sloppy seconds. I was getting restless. I needed to move again. But not before Stu and Josh stopped by with wishes of wellness.

I suppose it was fortunate that I received an invitation to dance with the Philosophe Knights back on the West side of Malton. I only suppose it fortunate as I could not stay long. However I did stay long enough to run into Zaruthustra. And thus he spake.

"Before you they feel small, and their baseness glimmers and glows in invisible revenge. Have you not noticed how often they became mute when you stepped among them, and how their strength went from them like smoke from a dying fire? Indeed, my friend, you are the bad conscience of your neighbors: for they are unworthy of you. They hate you, therefore, and would like to suck your blood. Your neighbors will always be poisonous flies; that which is great in you, just that must make them more poisonous and more like flies. Flee, my friend, into your solitude and where the air is raw and strong! It is not your lot to shoo flies."

Death in Cadence

Gosh where does the time go? Here we are the beginning of December already. It's nearly Christmas. I love the holiday season. It's always great for one's social life.

I wandered north after killing Capt Winters. This was a long time coming. Myself and the Duke had been planning on heading up to the Curton Mansion for quite some time...Well I had been planning on it. He seemed more content to mull around railway stations or clubs. I think he is getting senile with age. I would diagnose him as clinically insane...if I weren't slightly maniacle m'self. Heh.

Anyhow, I found myself pretty much alone up there. I had made some friends with a lovely survivor group THEM. The hunting club has always had diplomatic relations with THEM...nothing official. However, they've always provided us with wonderful pies and while I was there I got a super fast revive after shooting out a couple smelly zergs, and getting shot inside Club Budd by Killroy Kutter. Naturally I returned the favour.

This was of course, just a taste of things to come as I'd been shopping down in Shearbank and shooting up some scientists in Lamport Hills in the previous days. I was due at Giddings and crossed down through heytown, to rest in a small church with Thug and Almighty Pickle. There was a little poetic disturbance over night, but otherwise it was peaceful. I decided to head down through Peppardville. It was again, just to get an assessment of the area. I stopped by Mccloud's pub for a rest and was treated to a song by The band Styx. Even that handsome Heroic Nonesense was there. But alas I could not stay long. Even my trip back to Giddings for the Day of the Dead was spoiled by zombies.

It wasn't all bad though. I spent halloween up in Santlerville doing a little trick or treating in Dowdney Mall, a little rumming and dancing with liens in Club Hesse. All up it was a fun night though it seemed to end too quickly. Not particularly eventful though a number of er...hominids found me recovering next door afterwards. And I was still getting candy the day after from a mysterious, handsome young gentleman.

But I was due back in Chancelwood to shoot Asshulk again. It got a little tiresome to be honest. And Mostly Harmless managed to clear the club at one point. I was about to do it again, when Deltor decided to stand up for the club budd zergs. I'm told a lovely member of DORIS caught up with him while I was napping in the Curton Mansion. Something of a reset happened whilest I was dead as I decided to go and shoot a random survivor in Haslock.

Let's be frank about this: I am a murderer. In a city where zombies currently outnumber humans by almost 2-1, I am taking life when it is needed the most. My motives? Business, pleasure, convenience, inconvenience...It all really boils down to the same thing: I work to make people stop breathing. And I enjoy my work. That is the key to happiness, the punchline to the universal joke, the ineffable name of god, the golden apple...I keep doing what I do because it's fun. Thus, if you find yourself on the wrong end of my shotgun, you shouldn't think yourself an enemy. In fact, I have no enemies in Malton though certain individuals and groups seem to think of me as one. And most of them have aired their grievances in the only manner that feeble troglodites can express their experiences of the great equallizer. Shock, hate, fear, anger, resentment and revenge...Eye for an eye...I kill two of theirs, they come back and shoot me as soon as they can find me. So it goes.

I find it all rather amusing to be honest...Still. After nearly a year of this, I still really enjoy what I do. Again, the only reason I kill these people in the first place is because it's fun. To me one who seeks vengeance or satisfaction in the death of their assailant indicates a level of complusion that not even the most obsessive and driven serial killers can match. Especially when, all things considered, replacing the lives that I take should really be their focus. Perhaps they're insecure about their authority? Maybe they've got issues with pride. Maybe they need help.

Indeed, this is why I've tried not to visit my victims more than once. "If you look long enough into the void the void begins to look back through you." Your funeral, my trial. Obsession is a weakness.

Oh my, I do go on, don't I? So where were we? Oh yes! Leaving Chancelwood. I said my goodbyes in Haslock and dropped by Don Wesson's Factory for a quick visit with Buckey Tesla before shipping out to Shearbank. I was a herald for Red Rum's mall tour. And on my way down I couldn't help but do a little warming up with Adam R and again with xDarkstalkerx. And before I knew it, I'd found a lovely dark club after shooting out the generator and a ball of fun just waiting to be exploited in iamwillow. Apparently iamwillow thinks that barricades are more important than human life or indeed, manners. It was rather amusing to find her again, not through skill, nor through drive of malice, just pure dumb luck. Oh and she was sitting right next door which happened to be in my path. There is something incredibly satisfying in the death of an ignorant. A Philosophe Knight I am not, but I certainly understand why they do what they do.

A fresh day, a fresh streak of blood down the wall. Dipcup and I tore up the Gabe building which started the flow of red rum into shearbank it would seem as next day, myself, Duke D'oeuvre and Mike LeGrande started something in The Muller Building which carried over into some adjoining buildings. And perhaps a little prematurely, the mall was breached by some silly zombie group. Myself, the Duke and a breathing impaired Thug got in while the going was still good, Duke nabbing a MULTI MEGA KILL...otherwise known as a hat-trick.

And the mall fell. It crumbled before our very eyes. It was beautiful. And the aftermath was even more beautiful and it was my pleasure to share some more rum with BarryLiao, Dyran and as the night drew nigh, and the party goers eventually passed out, I helped to clean up a little espionage problem and took out the elite zombie spy, MrAddled. And I was followed around by a fan on my way out of town. The cheeky little bastard took a chunk or two out of me...and still wanted free drugs. Unfortunately I didn't have any, not that I'd of shared them with him. However I did have a spare bullet for Markus. Bloody zombies. If it's not brains its drugs. Always trying to get in the way of my fun.

So I headed south to greener pastures. Red Rum were content to siege Calvert Mall up in the north...But I was more interested in Marven and Tompson. So I wandered south, and dropped into MCM. I had only intended on staying a day before moving on again. However, there was quite a bit of excitement around the college. Firstly, some debate over cookies vs crackers...as well as healing murderers like myself. I let Samuraijack have it. No, I didn't kill anyone...I conversed with a few former targets and some Philosophe Knights. But I kind of wish I had, especially after his reaction.

It was heating up though down south. The undeadites had been sieging for MCM for 9 days before I popped in and the RRF were very much in town...Gore corpers all over the place. I decided to help stone18 out. Sometimes you gotta be cruel to be kind. Later I managed to sign an autograph for FuzzyWuzzie back inside MCM. I was very slowly restocking all the while. However I got caught up in the defense of MCM. I was enjoying myself there; I didn't want to see it fall to these undeadites. It was inevitable that the RRF would roll over it eventually, but for now they were more preoccupied with the Mall and I had to go shopping fast. I passed through the cinema where I found Speels, injured. I didn't have time to shoot him though, and rushed off to grab some more ammo. However on my way back? He was even more sick. I couldn't help myself. Of course, you can see by that picture that a matter of minutes between the last shot by faded101 and yours truely. Yeah, doesn't take me long to shop. And if you ever catch me in a mall I hope your pistols are faster than your wit. But for now at least I was playing survivor. Barricading had sapped me of a fair bit of energy when Aiden Fury popped in and muttered about the mall falling. I had begged Violet to let me kill him...She wouldn't have it though, and instead gave me a cookie. I resolved to do it later as a zombie. Of course, that would have taken a shitload of energy to pull off (taking down EHB cades since the undeadites couldn't do it themselves, securing an instant revive, etc.) But then more barricading put me back to asleep again. I figured he would keep. Unfortunately, MikeavLi swooped in and shot him before I could. Damn those gore corpers! Kill sniping, neutral ground hating, zombie spies the lot of them! But they are rather attractive, I'll give them that...and maybe...just maybe, there was a part of me thinking: "DAMN that was hot!" It certainly did bring a smile to my face to see Mikey around and I knew that the ever so handsome, helpful and downright sweet Johnny Bass couldn't be too far away either. Heh. I'm gonna cop a lot of flak for this...but hey, what can I say? I got a soft spot bad boys. And they don't get much badder than the gore corps.

That "incident" on neutral ground spurred a little unpleasantness on the Rogue's Gallery. I will get to that later, though as I have more murders to account for your pleasure. Like the miserable, insignificant death of breathing undeadite, Ultimate Spiderman. A death cultist who met his fate inside MCM. So insignificant was it that I didn't even get a picture.

But it did suck up a lot of my ammunition. So I wandered south towards Tompson. Had Marven not been eaten by the RRF, I'd of stocked there and come back to MCM since I was really enjoying denying the undeadites a meal. And there was also a much anticipated lecture schedualed...by Lord Moloch himself. Alas, all that was on his mind was brains and how to get more of them for the horde and the Malton College of Medicine fell to the claws of the RRF before I could so much as reload my shotgun. It is always the way. All humans die, some faster than others.

But there was a lot of fun to be had around Ruddlebank and Lockettside. Even if Eric Youngblood decided to kill me for a grudge that's well, months old. It gave me a new target in Mark Soder, who headshot me in the revive point afterwards. But there were opportunities everywhere. Arrawan for example, was just asking to be returned to the horde. While Mark Soder kept, oblivious to his own inevitable demise. Nothing quite like killing a vitalist. But I barely had time to savour it as minutes later a BigErn McCracken needed my help in Tompson.

And it was back to hiding. I didn't get much time to restock that day...obviously. However the entire week I was untouched, unhindered by bounty hunters. Not that they weren't in the area. I even tried to murder a certain Saint early in the week with assistance from Johnny Bass. Alas, Ryan Lynch is quick on his feet and ran before Johnny could land one final pistol shot. It didn't really matter to me I suppose, I'm just disappointed that Johnny Bass missed out. It landed me inside Hind Bank, where an assortment of colourful people congressed in dark corners. We agreed silently to keep the place neutral. Of course, that didn't stop Paul Wisby, but it was funny to watch Jack of Aces fail at rattle. I've still got no idea what the hell he was trying to say to me. It was of little significance as I had some vitalists to kill.



It was incredible luck that I found Ill Vice too. A fledgeling bounty hunter, perhaps someone I might even call a friend. I couldn't resist the opportunity to pass on some helpful advice.

And this brings us back to MikeavLi. He had reported himself for killing Aiden Fury. Purely for idealogical reasons. To me? Mike's report was keeping Aiden honest. He had killed Aiden before but Aiden didn't report it. It looked rather like Aiden was trying to cook the books, just to make himself look good. And I found MikeavLi's actions positively inspirational. Bounty Hunters are the most egotistical jerks in Malton. I am of course generalising, but they are bottom feeders. Not useful in the slightest bit to survivors, murderers or zombies. They are gimps. No matter what spin you see them put on it, a murderer like myself or any of the other murderers that I've mentioned here, will always do more for Malton than any bounty hunter in town. Whether it is helping zombies by clearing meat shields, helping survivors by shooting mrh cow tippers, buying someone a drink, teaching new arrivals about death and how to avoid pain upon sudden undeath, or helping everyone by shooting mean spirited twats, a murderer always does more than a bounty hunter who picks off targets from a list of murderers and usually aims for the murderer with the highest bounty or a lesser target of convenience. Utterly useless, dead weight...but they are fun to shoot, if nothing else. Which is why I shot Ryan Lynch and I reported it. It was purely a symbolic gesture, though there are those out there who will see it as lame even though I didn't do it for the bounty points. I find it irresponsible, dishonest and definitely dishonerable that a person who's sole purpose in Malton is to hunt from a list and not report back to it. Especially considering how easy it is to report these days. This is why I have nothing but contempt for the Dulston Alliance, CDF, TZH etc. ad nauseum. You could put just about any survivor group that maintains their own little permanent KOS list, or their own little scoring systems to try to match other survivors, bounty hunters or murderers in this exact same catagory. If all it is to you is numbers, notches in your axe, uzi, katana, etc. why not exchange your weapon for a calculator already?

Anyhow, it all got very serious over there. I was still having fun inside the bank though. I even had an opportunity to play cupid for ddoomsoC and CiscoKitty. Two very lovely individuals who, even though one is a bounty hunter the other a murderer, I believe make Malton a brighter place. Since ddoomsoC was too shy, I told CiscoKitty how he felt about her. I was glad CiscoKitty at least gave me something to pass back onto him. I am a romantic at heart. Even if those two are star-crossed, one certainly cannot put it down to a lack of effort. And the laughs continued...Samuraijack made an appearance taking out Psycho Killer, who was the most seriously injured out of all of the lot us, before finally Arrgyleh turned the lights on and killed the mood entirely.

So I said my goodbyes and headed back north to MCM. Taking an opportunity to spread a little chaos on my way.

I have been asked to lecture and indeed, I owe it to Mighty Oak, Violet and a couple other students to do so. I'll see how things go. I've got at least another week here before it is time to move again. And if you must shoot me...If you really think killing me once is going to make a lick of difference to what I do, to what you feel, to the situation in Malton or what people think about you...Come and shoot me in MCM. I dare you to post that claim.