Friday, December 30, 2011

Tomorrow is New Years Eve.

I've been invited to a party.

Normally I would not accecpt such an invitation, Especially when the sender could be one of my mortal enemies (Writer) but I have faith in his honesty. 

I think I shall go, and wear my finest dress.

Besides, how else could I see ember and the others, the ones I want to see?

And its supposedly in a "Loop" or something so it should be  okay as long as those are real.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Capo II

 I started in my seat as I felt a hand on each shoulder, pushing me gently but firmly back into my chair. The two men who searched me.

Capo chuckled at my discomfort. I could have bluffed if I hadn't broke character damn it damn it...

Frank was shattered, all around me, leaving Rachael exposed. I was alone. I was unarmed.

"You are wondering how I knew, I assume?"

I said nothing.


Maurice talking to Rachael in the parking lot outside High School. It had been a bad day at play practice. Rachael had to ask for the script too many times. Had forgotten her lines one too many times. Maurice crouched down next to her, smiles and said: "Sometimes when you forget your lines...just go with the flow. Improvise. It'll work itself out."


"Frank has not been seen anywhere for the last twelve years. When I did a little research, it was easy to see he had never existed. Not even as a dead man. The police would not try something like this. They know better than to whip up someone out of nothing. So it was something else. Someone else."

He smirked as he sipped at his wine. "You think I am a fool, you think I am some comic-book villian like the others? No, I am a Capo first, an Agent second and it is why in a city with men like Eternity I am allowed to live. I am an Earner. I feed this organization, I keep us armed. I keep the police off our backs and give us the cover that we need. I check everything. It took me a day to realize my old commrade was dead. Why would you kill him? Why would an inside kill him? Because they are a loose cannon acting alone."

I shifted. Not nervous, not yet. I had obviously underestimated this man. But if he kept talking, my opening would come. He was a monologuer. I'd let him go until he stopped.

"That left us with a few options, and left me to search for a modus operandi. Two dead people in my organization, slowly moving up the scale. Both killed by knives. The first operating near the Chelsea district. This lead me to investigate gangs, but of course the m13 and the Kings are busy with each other right now, the Italians are too underground to bother with us and those Eastern Europe fucks are too busy fighting the bloods over crack these days to give a fuck. No, this was someone who knew what we really were. Runners, then. But who would be enough of a monster to mutilate a man where it hurts? He had a family, by the way. A son. Just turned ten."

I wouldn't let him worm his way into me. I wouldn't-

"And so we narrowed our search. And found out about a rouge proxy who operated in that area, preferred our side of the bay, and had recently switched sides." Capo's shit eating grin stretched all across his face. "Really, Rachael. Tom Waits is rather overrated."

He leaned back in his chair. "So now, I am left to wonder about you. Why did no organization recruit you? Is it because of your insanity, or because of how useless you are? Or perhaps it is becaus eof what really happened that night twelve years ago, mmm?"

"Shut up you don't know about that."

"Ahh, but I read the reports myself. I have a man in the department. Interesting stuff. But I am not a cruel man. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The men slowly drew lethal looking pistols, their other hand still holding me into the chair. Keeping me there. Trapped.

I looked at Capo. Not as myself. As a femme fatale. Walking trouble. TheMobMollThe nine inch heels the cigarette holder leaking smoke. The cherry lips. "what a quaint little resturaunt. Are these windows bulletproof?"

Capo laughed. "What a bizzare question, my dear."

"Well, you see, darling, I've been driving around town shooting at all the M13 boys cars with the vehicle parked right out front. Mmm, and ah miiiiiiiiiiight have shot up the Latin Kings' crack den before coming here. Just to even things out."

The blood drained from Capo's face. Suddenly, he realized my plan. I hadn't planned on killing him myself. My plan was to drag his little empire into a war with the other gangs of Union City. What better way to fight the proxy organization than to crush it against people who were just as bad?

"Kill her, kill her now. We can't have them know she was here."

The gentlemen went for their guns as the first shots broke the glass.

I reached into my pants and from right up against my crotch I pulled out my switchblade- who feels up a man there, and who suspects the buldge to be anything else?

I sliced the arm of the first man in the panic, causing him to drop his gun. I dove for it as the bullets began to fill the room. I fired at the second and began to run for it. I got clipped twice, once in the side, grazing me, knocking me over. the other in the arm. Idropped Maurice's knife. It was left in the fight, but I made it out the back.

I tossed off the suitcoat. Let my arm breathe. breathe, breathe. shot the next man to come through the door and started to run. I stole one of their cars and drove.


My home is on fire. it's not safe for me to be here now  i have nothing left

but hate and a desire to end this

I'm leaving the city I do not know where I am going

i still dont feel better

Thursday, December 22, 2011

I don't have time to write up Capo right now. Understanding will come in time.

Yesterday and today are important. A man stood up with a select few and fell.

I remember reading that post as Maurice and fuming.

I was livid at the stupidity. I was so angry.

I hated him. I hated how dumb, how people loved him, how he thought he would be Jesus.

For weeks, for months, this idea burnt at me, gnawed at me.

And then Zero came back.

That was when I knew I needed to blog, to taunt him taunt all the dumb runners and neurotic fighters.

Until I remembered who I was, and had the courage to become myself again.

Zero may not have saved anyone. He may have damned himself and killed so many people for no reason.

But Zero gave me redemption.

I wonder if he'd laugh.

I don't know. But I do know how important Solstice was.

Remember Zero.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011


Today I finally went to meet with Capo.

 Not as Rachael of course. Rachael is not someone I wish to expose to him. To them.

My identity is fragile enough I do not wish to become a target in this war.


Frank Russo is not young anymore. He's in his 30's, now. Some would call him a punk but he's a calculating man. Frank knew that a man like him, someone who has been thrown out of school for cheating and violence had few options. To get ahead, his only option was to go underground.  Frank was on a prolific spree of crimes of all sorts years ago but went dark as the heat got harder on him.

Frank still has some contacts in the city, enough to get him into the hearing of a crime boss turned agent. Capo could use a man with as few scruples as Frank for jobs he does not wish to associate himself with. Frank's record is good, and the cities lawmen have long forgotten about him. Especially out in Union City, a city with more people per mile than Manhattan. History chokes on the new bodies every day.

I figured I might as well use one of Maurice's from back in the day. I could not simply waltz into Capo's workplace the way I did to Tony. This plan would take finesse, planning.

Frank had a meeting. He was no barbarian. An old ally of Capo (now dead, though no one knew yet) had set up the meeting for a cash offering from his lovely sister, worried about her brothers recent involvement with the Eastern Europeans.

Frank strolled into the meeting. He was searched for weapons, and none were found. My breasts were bound, my hair in a slick ponytail, dyed black. I wore a black leather jacket with a black button down, and black slacks. formal, but not in a cowtowing way. Frank had respect for Capo, and for himself.

Capo was waiting for me inside a small restaurant, far from the famous new high rises. The rehab of Union City had not reached this part of town yet. The lights were low, lit only by overhead fixtures even on a sunny afternoon like this.

Capo struck me as the sort of man who could gain weight in his line of work. The kind of man who grew fat, not out of gluttony or greed, but out of the lack of fear. A man who could go gray, not from stress, but from aging into a violent lifetime. He was a man who had found himself a place in this world and believed himself capable of holding himself exactly there. He seemed the kind of man with no ambition, but no sloth. A man who would excel at keeping an organization like this together. But not the leader, never the leader.

A challenging opponent, perhaps. But I was confident in my disguise and my secret weapon. I was immersed in my role. I had plans, machinations.

He waved me lazily with one hand and a coy half grin.   On either side of him, two gentlemen in suits, in addition to the two that had welcomed me.

"Welcome, welcome. Please, have a seat. Wine?"

I sat down in the proffered chair, but politely refused his offer for wine. Frank never drank when there was business. Capo crossed his hands and leaned forward.

"Come now, Rachael, I've never known you to turn down a man before."

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Because I could not stop for death/he kindly stopped for me

I've been going through his closet, and trying on his clothes. I put them back and close the door.


A knock on my door nights ago.

The man called "Van Helsing", the Brian no more was at my doorstep.

The overweight hulk with his face his eyes under the fucking fedora and the fucking leather jacket who does he think he is fucking neo or somethin? Bullshit. Fucking Bullshit. Fuck fhcuk fuck fuclk=ing bullshit! I

"Rachael, open the door." he said, his voice the same if deeper and sadder.

My eyes widened. Did he remember? How much did he remember? Did he...

"Fuck you Hellsing! Go away." There's no way. He couldn't have. He's dead. He was a shell of a man.


"What?" I tore the door open "What is it? You remember my name now?"

"Rachael..." There were tears in his fat fucking eyes, like he was struggling with something long ignored, long forgotten. "I, I know you."

"Of course you do you fat fuck, you know me. YOU KNEW ME!" i  looked into his face and Brian looked into the eyes of his lover his wife

and he ran into the night like a squirrel hunted by a hawk not seen but sensed in the sky far above.

Rachael sank to the floor of her doorway and she wept for hours until there were no more tears. She wept for Konaa, for Schrodinger, for Maurice and for Brian, and Rachael. 

When the tears were gone she  curled up in his closet with Maurice's swtichblade and flicked it in and out, staring at the blade. she disrobed and looked at herself in his mirror, staring at the cuts all along her arms, her legs, her sides.

she went through Brian's closet and tried on all of his clothes. She wore them and smelt them

even after all these years he still smells the same


Tuesday, December 13, 2011

In the end we all face a curtain. Whether it be the last glimpses of family members over the hospital bed, or the crash of an explosion or the flash of a gun muzzle. The Curtain is important. Unless it gets drawn the shows not over. It'll just keep going even if the audience starts clapping.

 So many closed plays, so many ended tales. Some the average actor will have never heard of. The same tales over and over again like vaudville playing every night same act different towns and no one even knows.

I'm done with the Vaudeville. I won't be held down by petty allegiances and constraints. I've heard horrors from both sides of the line. And theres so many tragedies. So many neverending stories. I'm gonna close 'em.

Police are looking for the presumed killer. They think its Triads. Apparently Wallace had some gang connections. Perhaps this will lead us to Capo?

Setting the scene is important, I believe. I am working on it.

i think im being followed

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Her name is Roxxy

Roxxy wasn't the name she was born with. She was born Rhea Anne Stanson. Her parents tried to get her to go to college but she rebelled, dropped out and got mixed in with the wrong crowd. She found her way to the big city and began to live the "Glamorous" lifestyle.

 She dyed her hair.

Changed Her name to "Roxxy"
She developed a penchant for bad boys, started doing coke and drinking every night. Eventually, she found her way to one particular club.

Perhaps our male friend will run into her. Maybe she'll get close to him.

Roxxy is someone I've been Before.

Maurice trained me to be able to shift personas. He taught me to live into my roles, no matter how small. Play the part, be the part. I was Roxxy, or a woman like her, for over a week at his urging.

Slipping into her again is not so difficult.

She is sort of like me in a way. We both are running from past failure. We both drowned ourselves in a fake, superficial life. Roxxy just hasn't found herself yet, hasn't found her purpose yet. She thinks she can find it in a man's arms and feels the slow creep of age upon her.

Roxxy and I are not so different.

I followed our unknown hunter to his club of choice tonight. A place called Libation. I stepped back and let Roxxy take over. Roxxy walked into the club, slipped up to the bar, giggled at a man who bought her the first drink and stepped out onto the floor, losing him. Roxxy didn't care. Men were things to work around to Roxxy. She knew them well, and found her target.

The man with the buzzcut across the room, already chatting up two drunk college girls. He liked them young.

Challenging, but not impossible.

Roxxy strode to him, showing off her curves in the dress that covered my scars oh so well, makeup hiding the rest. Roxxy pulled him to his feet and purred into his face. He was uncertain, but excited. Classic hunter, unable to react quickly to a change in his plans.

Roxxy ground against him slowly, whispering sensuously into his ear.

 Roxxy ran her hand down his chest. He quivered. "I'm Roxxy" she purred into his ear.

"Tony. That's my name"

He was high as balls. Perfect. Roxxy knew that cocaine users have a higher sex drive. He wouldn't even need to know any more about me. Just that he wanted me. Wanted Roxxy.

She led him outside before long. He did a line of coke in his car while Roxxy rubbed his back. Thankfully he didn't offer me any. I had been drinking the whole time, and acting as though I was giggly, falling down drunk, but still so desirous of this monster.

Finally it was time. He began to undress Roxxy, Roxxy began to undress him. Roxxy pushed him down, gently, poised herself above him, and smiled.


Do you know what the Rape-aXe is?

It is an anti-rape device designed by a South African woman. It works like a condom, only the woman puts it...inside herself.However it is more than a condom. A Rape-aXe condom has sharp, sharp barbs on the inside. sort of like teeth.

They dig in, and cannot be removed except for by surgery.



I tied his coked out hands behind him and thrusted.  He screamed in agony, a wail unlike anything I've ever heard before.

"Okay Tony, this is how its going to fucking work. You tell me what I need ta know and this stops faster, got it?"

He screamed and cried. A man who fought and killed for a living, no man really, could withstand this pain. Brian had always taught me to attack here. "It's the one thing that controls all guys, you know." He said once, laughing.

I had pulled him out of me, finally, leaving the sheath of blades on him. I couldnt really remove it, except for by force. So I began to pull it.


"T-tony Monta-"

"No, your name, Proxy. Name!"

"I-I'm Wallace."

"Alright Wally. Listen here. I want you to tell me everyone you've been hunting. Now."

I pulled, he screamed and spilled a list of names. Many names. Tony here is a busy boy.

"I need to know your superior's name. Now."

He was sobbing, crying. "His name is Capo. He's based out of Union City I-"


and the rest went on from there. I killed him after. I'm no monster.

My next step will be Capo. I'm...

I haven't had a man touch me in that way in years.

Having that power, the violence

it feels good.

Better than the mutilation. Better than the doubt. There is something real in killing.

And if I'm left to clean up the stage

I will strike the set.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

And we're back.

One night Maurice took me aside and handed me a pile of clothing

"Listen here dollface. A disguise isn't about what you are wearing or how you sound or any of that shit. A disguise is about acting. Have a character in mind. Change your clothing, your hair. Match that role. Act Your Part!"


It's gotten cold so fast.

I've taken to creeping around the city, as one person, than another. Even those who saw me, once upon a time, would recognize me no longer.

I dyed my hair in a Texaco bathroom. I stared into the mirror in the flickering light for a long time.

Blonde Hair. Blue Eyes. Even  a-a wave to my hair now.

I stared into my eyes, now someone elses. It was...unfamiliar. I've been struggling with self for so long. I've not known who I am not had a purpose.

But now, under it all, I'm starting to see me.

I've been tailing this guy. One of the Masked. An Actor. like me.

A family man, goes out during the day, stalks and hunts. Hires hookers, drinks, goes home to his loving family.

I have a plan in motion

Let us see what I can do.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Last night

there was a man outside my apartment

watching, waiting, I watched him. He was not familiar.

The light at the end of my block, the streetlight, turned red

a car was stopped. I could see a woman, in the back a little girl.

The man walked up to the car, broke the window. The flash of dark metal, a gun.

 I grabbed Maurice's knives

ran for the man.

He saw me fired

grazed my arm but I did not stop

and stabbed

The woman fled with her daughter

frightened but I hope, also thankful.

I left him where he lay, cleaned my knife.

No one talks in this neighboorhood

and what beat officer believes a frail woman capable?

they never knew, never expected. Maurice for all his faults taught me one thing

lies and vaudville.

I should feel bad but the pain has leveled me, in a way self-infliction could not.

I'm steady, I'm in control.

For the first time in a long time.

Rachael is done being a plaything, a toy.

Perhaps it is time to stirke back.

Perhaps it is time to make a difference.

Perhaps it is time

to take control.