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Well, that's new.

I think I might be the first person to get hate mail in ancient Minoan.

I especially appreciate the handy-dandy translations on the side. Never woulda known what they were without them. Thanks, White. If you're really here, I'm so gonna kill you. For real, this time.


Hey, I appreciate all the little candies and whatever that I've been getting chucked at me for Christmas. I never really do nothing special, since I don't have any family and it's tough celebrating when my boos are who-knows-where. But if anybody actually likes candy canes, I was bored and left some hanging around random doors. If you want one and didn't get one, I'm chilling on the roof, making more.

[OOC- You know those little reindeer candy canes? Well, Max found a box of candy canes and some crafts, and decided to spread a little bit of holiday cheer. Not too much, hence why she didn't actively go out hunting for people, but just enough for you to have probably gotten a strange little piece of candy with antlers from what may be a total stranger hanging on your doorknob. Feel free to come up to the roof and force her into being social.]



I finally managed to get my baby just how I like her, and Jack Frost decided to take a crap all over Wonderland.

Screw it, once I find a chain or even wrangle up some honest-to-God snow tires or claws, I'm still taking her out. If there are still people missing, that's a good enough reason to get her going. And if there ain't, I promised a few people a ride. Hope you all got enough winter gear, kids.

#12: [Video/Action]

[Max is holding the camera to her pale, sweat-stained face. Her eyes are deep hollows and tinged with red. The electric blue tank top she's wearing has a dark stain growing over her heart, as that's where she'd been shot a little over a year ago. She's breathing hard, and it's clear that each breath hurts like hell.

She also looks conflicted, as though she's fighting between an impulse and the remnants of a conscience. It's a long time before she says anything, but she finally manages to growl:]

If you see me... run.

[The communicator is then dropped on the floor as she turns and staggers out of the room.]

[OOC- Yeah... she's not one of the nice geists, obviously. She's pretty much taken over by her years of training to be an efficient killer. If you stumble across her, she will attack you and, unless you've got some special abilities that will trump a genetically-engineered super soldier, you should be prepared for a beat down, at the very least.]


For a fraction of a second, the next event actually sounded pretty okay. I'm down with anything talking about seeing friends again, y'know? But uh... the rest? Screaming and running and tricks? And moldy treacle don't sound like a picnic, either. (What the hell is treacle, anyway? Some kinda cake?)

Oh, and uh... Rain Guar- Yamamoto? Thanks for a chill time at the ball. It would've been a shame to have been so dolled up and not actually go.

#10: [Video]

[Max is sitting in a chair as a servant puts the finishing touches on her hair. She's fully decked out.]

Which lucky guy is taking me to this ball? The line forms to the left.

If I don't get any takers, I guess I'll just have to sit up here in my room, all alone, looking glamorous just for the sake of looking glamorous. Poor, poor me.

[Glancing up at the woman doing her hair, she smirks.]

Hey Annette, we're fully stocked on beer and nachos right? Perfect.


It's starting to get quiet around here. I've almost forgotten what that's like. It's sort of nice.

[Private - Hackable since she doesn't think she needs to take the pains to use her awesome computer skills around here.]

It'd be a whole lot nicer if Logan or Joshua or Original Cindy were around. I'd almost take Alec, but that Alec lookalike walking around is weird enough. Besides, it's probably better that Logan's not here. Without the whole transgenic thing to preoccupy us, we might get... too close for comfort. Again.


#8- [Voice]

[Though Max is mumbling and sounds like she's in pain, it'd be very, very hard to miss the angry undertone of her words.]

First someone sabotages the bike I've been working on and the engine almost takes my hand as a tribute. Then they start shooting. Shooting. At me.

I don't like guns. I really, really don't like guns. And I don't like bullets being lodged into my torso! I might be a fast healer, but this hurts like a bitch and is gonna seriously screw up my response time.

When I find the mystery sniper, he's goin' down. Hard.


So if this next "event" is about being prey and dinner at the same time... and there are claws....

No. No way in hell am I dealing with cannibalistic mutants or some weird shit like that. My life is enough like a sci-fi movie.


That thing over the past couple of days? The thing with the not talking? Let's not do that ever again.