Saturday, January 29, 2011


Forgive the Spectator's radio silence these past few days. After Jean left, there was an... incident, involving a Revenant who had misinterpreted the Spectator's deal with the Black King. You see, the word of the agreement was that the Black King would leave the Spectator be, so long as she did not directly oppose him.

Nowhere did that agreement's wording include indirect opposal, or aiding the White Army. This Revenant, in that regard, was rather mistaken, and broke into the Spectator's home to inform her that the deal was off, so to speak.

The Spectator's temper boiled over. A canister of mace held just far away enough to cover both eyes, emptied. Earplugs removed while he clutched his eyes. Foghorn held down at point blank until it went dry. The intruder broke the Spectator's nose and kissed her goodbye under the eye with a pen knife (the Spectator was in the hospital getting the cut treated and stitched together earlier today). The Spectator had been boiling water for spaghetti. It ended up being a small pool for the Spectator to hold the dazed intruder's face in until he stopped thrashing.

The police, corrupt and inefficient as they are, opted not to press charges. Another loner from out of town causing trouble, they said.

Hopefully this won't require the Spectator to find a new domicile lest the Black King seek to have a pleasant chat about the ramifications of killing a Revenant in self-defense, regardless of the fact that the Spectator had spent the rest of the day curled up in a corner with a baseball bat.


  1. First point I have to make:


    Just, brilliant.

    Second point is obviously:

    I would guess that the deal is either off or tentative now, huh?

    Good luck, my thoughts are with you.

  2. In all honesty, I've done nothing to violate the word of the agreement. If it is off, expect a fair sight more activity from the Spectator as she enters the board.

  3. Ahhh......

    This seems like it's going to need the Slender-equivalent of a Lawyer....

    Hey, maybe that's why he wears the suit.

    I certainly hope you're unharmed (both in the future and apart from the cut.)

  4. Fuck, Thage. Are you okay? Tell me about the Revenant.

  5. Perhaps, Ava.

    He was tall. Better than six two. Gangly. Bone-white. Hair swept back, moderately long. Black and greasy. Horrible teeth. Halitosis of the sorts a troll could find repulsive. Wore a ratty green hooded sweater and jeans that look like they'd seen better days when Ronnie James Dio was in his prime. Scruffy facial hair, unibrow.

  6. As to my condition. I'm fine. Hurts to make too many facial expressions and there's a blind spot near the bottom of my field of vision that hadn't been there, I assume it's because his knife hit something it shouldn't have.

  7. Hmmm, a Super-Powered Mook does /not/ bode well....

    Was he sent by him, or acting of his own accord?

    That doesn't sound too good, (the blind spot) but at least you aren't wholly blind....

  8. No idea. My best guess is he acted alone after seeing my blog and my comments. Looked outside my window just now. Nothing but a woman walking a basset hound. The hound is silent.

  9. Hmm. So not the single most intelligent ancestor to evolve......

  10. Sorry, Thage. It's kinda selfish, but I hope this isn't my fault.

    Still, it'd be nice to get a veteran on the board. But I'd rather you stayed safe.

  11. My door's always open to you, dear Knight. I enjoyed having yourself and the Damsel to speak with, even if only one of you spoke back.

  12. Ugh, Mole. He's a pathetic little prick; the world's better off without him. Even when I was on Team Slender, I didn't like him. He tried too hard to impress everyone, like a little lickarse. I'm glad he's dead. Cunt.

  13. He knows how to make it hurt like hell when one has to reset one's nose.

  14. Gotta say, I love the chess motif. Thank god you're okay.

    Stay safe.

  15. If you do need to relocate, my door's always open.

    I can tell you how to find me. It'll be temporary, but it'll be a roof.

    I'll be around.

    The Destroyer

  16. Chess motifs? Poker metaphors?

    Well this is quite surreal.

  17. This one, too, is relieved that Madame Spectator is well. Truly he has felt no small amount of concern regarding the welfare of an old friend. It makes this one swoon with joy to know that Madame Spectator's skills, at least, have not atrophied.

  18. Is the spectator in need of a DJ? My ability to amp the masses is impeccably refined.

    And frankly, from what I'm seeing here (and in my own life), I'd rather engage gracefully in this little shadowboxin' match like Mr. Meth than get unknowingly torn to bits like Busy Bee at Harlem World.

    Speaking in riddles distinguishes vivacious intellect - but rhythm rhetorically relates to a similar savvy.

    At your service,

  19. Come for the blog stay for the chess motifs.

    Best Wishes.