badfic_manor | 001 + SASHA NEIN [TEXT]

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001 + SASHA NEIN [TEXT]

[A line of text appears as it seems someone is testing out their blackberry.] Testing. 1. 2. 3. |

Hello. I am Agent Sasha Nein. I am assuming I have been kidnapped, and that you know what is going on. |

[At least this ‘Sasha’ isn’t flipping out or cursing over all of this. He also knows that other people have information, and is perhaps, hoping someone will offer him some.]

I have already explored the building to the best of my abilities, but considering how vast it is, I know I did not see any of the occupants here, even though there is proof such as the names on the door that there are others here. My fellow Kidnapped, then? |

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...Perhaps I could go talk to them...

I would be - very cautious of that. You see, the incident with the old gerbil-powered generator going down because the squirrels ate the gerbils happened during a plot where we had a stereotypical slasher-movie killer attacking people...

And when an associate of mine saved me from it and we unmasked it, the "costume" emptied out in a flood of squirrels. When the Manor was getting some redesigns and was regrowing, they somehow managed to steal a part of the internal process and hide it, which had to be hunted down; until then we were all scraping to forage in the woods. Last week, another friend of mine from home had the squirrels actively trying to kill him - trip him down stairs, dropping tree branches and large objects on him, and tripping us in the face of a nightmare-creature.

I don't know what set it off, but they seem to be developing a mind of their own as some kind of - permanent force of entropy and malice. [And sadly, this place HAS worn him down enough for this to be deadly serious.]

And here I was thinking Dogen was insane. He was right about squirrels.

I can't speak for somewhere else, but... it looks that way.

The part that worries me are the times that they apparently do things at odds with the Plot Bunny and the expressed "plan", or the - blueprints incident where they managed to break the normal "week" cycle of things here ... which means that as much as they're something native to this place, they're not exactly one of the things the Author controls.

Like a stray thought.

[He nods - it's a better way of putting it than his ramble, in shorthand.]

...Between them and some of the Bunny's behavior of late?

I'm beginning to wonder if this place hasn't started to take on a life of its own.

What has the Bunny's behavior been like?

He's always been cranky; lately he's been drifting more into -

Have you ever dealt with an overpaid, underworked official middle-man - the sort that has no power themselves, but gets to be the messenger and bearer of bad news everyone takes things out on?

Being the Author's mouthpiece is wearing him down. Perhaps we should spoil the bunny. [How odd to hear him say that.]

It's seemed to work for someone here before, and anymore he seems like just as much of a victim as the rest of us - moreso, if he's native to this place, since there's no "home" to go back to. He seems to be protected from any of us harming him, but not be nearly so lucky with other "plot" related things.

He has a hutch out front, near the gardens - he's not always there; I've seen him every so often wandering outside from my window, but there's a good chunk of time nobody really knows where is - not that it'd be hard for one small rabbit to vanish here. I haven't encountered him in person myself yet.

Then perhaps soon we should hunt him down and offer him a carrot? Perhaps being the voice piece can offer some sort of advantage we could exploit.

Certainly a plan worth keeping something on hand for. I've heard that sometimes, you can also get answers by writing on the mirrors in the dance studio; someone once made a bargain with the Author, and as dangerous as that could be, figuring out how they did it...

It sounds like an Urban legend, tell me did they have to use lipstick? [dry dry dry]

God only knows, and I'd never heard anything to specify. We had someone here for a while who liked to leave messages in blood on the walls, but she seemed to be unrelated. [If they get far enough at the dry thing, they could probably annihilate the pond.]

[Fuck ponds.]

Ew. I'm glad they had enough blood for dramatics.

I'm not even sure she was alive. [There's a beat after that as he reconsiders.] Or rather, that whatever she was, was "living" in the conventional sense; I know at least one resident here who's dead "back home".

Excuse me?

The girl who communicated in blood - her few network transmissions were more like hauntings than normal messages. As for the others ... Well. John Dillinger's become one of my better friends here - he's very much alive, here, but he remembers dying in his world, and I know he hasn't been the only one.

...Odd.

[Sasha is chewing his lip a little, trying to figure out if there is anything-]

How did he die?

[ ...There's not that many people in the Manor who keep track of famous criminals and outlaws in history, are there.]

He was shot to death by the early and just-founded FBI. Depression-era.

Was he shot in the head?

[It was funny how raw historical information took on a new light when you knew the person; on the other end of the line he's idly fidgeting with the cufflinks John had given him.]

Yes - the fatal shot. [Somehow he didn't think it was needed to go into as much detail as he could've, and he didn't really feel like he wanted to if there wasn't a reason.]

[Considering how everything is thus far, Sasha wouldn't have been surprised if this was John Dillinger from a world with giant robots even if it was depression Era.]

There goes that theory.