Crow Jane's Journal|
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|Sunday, March 22nd, 2009|
Water dripped steadily down from the filthy city, as the rain slowed to a stop. It didn't matter if the clouds were clearing, sunlight didn't reach this far down. It was a wonder that the rain even did, but one could argue that the tainted drippings from the overcity wasn't real rain. Real rain refreshed you and made everything better. That's what the old people said, the ones who remembered things as they were a long time ago.
She didn't blink as another drop fell into her eye, her pupil expanding and contracting for a brief second. It joined the others, trickling down her cheeks, staining her face with dirt and ash and grease. The children surrounded her, watching carefully. They were pretty sure she was dead, but whenever one got too close, trying to steal that leather jacket, or slip off her gloves, an uneasy feeling filled them until they ran back to join their friends, shivering perhaps a little more than they ought to be.
One of them suggested that she was an angel. They briefly considered it, then shook their heads. Angels weren't scary. Angels didn't fall
from the heavens. And they were pretty sure that angels didn't wear leather and fishnets. One of them decided that she had to be an overman, then. This made more sense, because they were always up there, enforcing the laws of the overcity. Still, they all took their steps back, putting an even safer distance between her and them. Overmen took
children sometimes. They weren't seen again, though some children had seen their parents crumple a little whenever a new overman arrived, as if they recognized what they saw.
There was the sound of boots clomping down the alley, brushing garbage aside on the way to the group. They turned and scattered at the sight of the new arrival. He was definitely an overman, no one else wore masks. His was leather, like hers, and his jacket was longer, but he still wore all black, just like her. He ignored the children, possibly not even noticing them, as he squatted down next to the unmoving, female overman.
"Crow... What're we gonna do with you?" He placed a hand on her forehead, then turned and looked to his left. The children didn't see anyone. "...No, Jack. Still no sign of her, or the baby." After that, the kids couldn't hear anymore. They wouldn't be able to, they didn't have access to the radiotelepathy network. //Yes, I'm sure that this is the best way. We've had the entire team trying to kick her ass for over a year now, and she's always been a step ahead. It's best just to let the rest of the Zero team take care of their own.////Don't fuck around, Midnighter. We need to have that baby with us.////Do you think I'm getting soft?//
With a snort, he cut the connection and sighed, sitting down next to the woman. "Then again, that kind of attitude's probably why we don't need to have her with us. That's what you've been trying to say, isn't it? I think I understand." He was silent for a long time after that, looking up towards the overcity. "...I'll finish what you started, Crow. Hopefully this is the last time I've gotta clean up after one of your messes." He smiled, though, and dusted off his rear after standing. "I'll be back. If some group of eager helpers manages to get you a blanket and out of this water while your brain resets itself, there might be some kind of reward left behind."
The overman turned and started to head out of the alley, assembling a metal staff as he did so. "I'm not after your baby, Crow. I hope you understand that when you wake up."
The children looked at each other, visions of money or games or food
dancing in their heads. Once the overman was gone, several of them left to get blankets and umbrellas, while the others stayed behind. The promise of a reward outweighed any threat of danger. And something in the overman's voice when he was talking about finishing what she started made them feel that the government's curfew could be overlooked, at least tonight.
|Sunday, November 9th, 2008|
|Friday, August 15th, 2008|
The Authority? Yeah. No.
Got Hawksmoor eaten by a ceiling fish, Midnighter sent into orbit, Apollo drained of energy, the Engineer trapped in a quantum flux, Swift jumped by moi, and the Doctor's drugs switched with sleeping powder.
|Sunday, August 10th, 2008|
((So! You want to know what Jane thinks of your character. Or you.
...Post and ask.))
|Thursday, August 7th, 2008|
Someone, somewhen, is poisoning my alcohol before I get to it. I've spent a total of twenty hours vomiting throughout the past weeks.
I haven't thrown up since as far back as I can remember. Not counting the time Majestic punched me. If I didn't absolutely hate how it felt, I'd say I was drinking just to feel it over and over again. Of course, this means that someone will switch to some other punishment. We'll see. We'll see.
Jenny's doing fine. Growing up fast. I wish I could give her a better place to grow up. Maybe next year, if the Authority will ever give up. I may need... I may need to ask a favor
, fuck it all. Winter loves her, Lamplighter just keeps grinning and talking about the world savior. I'm betting he's going to spoil the brat. We all probably are, if... No. We're not going to die. We'll find a way to kill off the Authority before we let them kill us, or take her away.
There's another Doctor in the Nexus. Not the one I met so long ago, and not mine. He's talking about Sparks. The Visionary. I wonder if they'd listen to him if I told them how bad things would get.
After Lamplighter killed that little Japanese bitch a few months ago, we tracked down where they trained and rebuilt her. Since then, we've polished off the entire cloning project for Teuton, and wiped out the scientific staff behind Last Call and the Colonel. I claimed Rush, but... I don't think she's that bad a person. Maybe. But we won't have to worry about the G7 making any replacement Authorities, at least.
|Saturday, January 26th, 2008|
Hear that, Apollo? Midnighter? The rest of you in the Authority?
Hope still lives. My Finer World will come about.
|Saturday, September 8th, 2007|
|Ramblings of a woman nearing sobriety. Soberness. Whatever.
There is Truth and there is Justice. People deserve to know of these things. To live them. Safety is another right. But in a world like this, such things are not taken. They're not rights. They're not even fucking earned
. They're given out. Given out by people who have NO RIGHT to give these things out.
People like me.
We are heroes. We don't exist to serve. If you ask anyone else about that, they'd laugh in your face, more than likely. But none of these people are heroes. Heroes died a long time ago. Or, will die this year. This December.
We are here to save
you. The "little man", if you'll forgive me for calling you that. Which you will in the open, because you're too afraid of people like me to do anything else. But you shouldn't
be, John and Jane Doe. Not of me. Not of the Authority as it is. Not of StormWatch as it was. We exist to make a Finer World. The Authority, after the death of Jenny Sparks, who I still have yet to get utterly sloshed with, will forget this. The men who have the LEAST RIGHT to forget this, will. The Midnighter... No. He'll remember. But from what I've seen and read in the future, he doesn't have the spine
to lead them back on the proper path.
Don't blink. It's true. He's the only one of the mighty god-kings that still cares about you little shits as individuals, and he could easily move the rest of them back to that path. But he doesn't. I don't know why not, and I don't care. Because of this, he's still as much of a failure as the rest of those worms.
They'll have a daughter, you know. And they'll raise her to be the same kind of god-thing they believe themselves to be. And she'll be the Spirit of the 21st Century. How does it feel, knowing that the path of the world will rely on a girl who doesn't care about you? Sure, she cares about humanity, but I doubt that she cares about people. It's what happens when you raise someone apart. Above and beyond.
But that's okay. I have a plan for that. The Girl will... Well. Best not to explain, in case anyone wants to make things 'right'.
Bitches. I live. I came back from death to serve you people. I am a hero. This contradiction can exist. I am Crow Jane. I am here to make your Finer World. That, or you are here to live in mine.
It's really up to you people. Do you want to actually work and make a world where you don't need me? Or are you content to lie back and spread your legs while I decide the fate of mankind?
The choice is not in my hands.
|Tuesday, August 7th, 2007|
|List of Things to Do
1. Find a better place for Lamplighter. He can't stay in a cave under the manor forever. Even if he doesn't mind it, he deserves better.
2. Talk to Eiko about quantum cloaking of some sort. I can't have her being discovered when I find her. But then, Eiko's vanished. Nnn...
3. Kill Bendix. And Rose Tattoo. I may need to talk to Cole and/or Ether about this.
3b-Figure out how to work his Carrier.
4. Figure out just how much I need to bribe Norman to get a date from Grace. Or maybe Otto. As long as it's not that Baldwin kid.
5. Check the Sanctuary to see just what the fuck is being done about Soze, and if anything's gonna happen to Hermes for sacrificing a bunch of fucks without even asking. Neither are really my business, but I can't just ignore shit like this. I've gotta at least keep an eye on things
6. Hack the fetish. I should have done this a long time ago, but if I'm going to be forming StormWatch again, I need the fucking things fully operational, not just there for communications.
7. Continue scouting for StormWatch possibles.
8. Quit drinking
|Monday, July 23rd, 2007|
This is... I still don't know whether to cry or shout out in glee.
I may need to change a few things.
|Wednesday, June 20th, 2007|
| ( Read more...Collapse )
You use a Halberd.
Possibly the most versatile polearm ever made, the Halberd is an elegant mix of spear and staff, remaining relatively light while having an effective cutting edge and stabbing point. Your enemies will never get near you; your personal space will be as unreachable as a faraway land.
|Wednesday, May 16th, 2007|
| Ohshitohshitohshit. I called Mr. Majestic a flighty alien sonovabitch. I'm so dead it's not fuckin' funny.
|Thursday, November 9th, 2006|
Mm. Booze. Russians. Nukes.
|Sunday, October 29th, 2006|
So, according to this thing
I'm reading... Gays are kidnapping Wal-Mart. Which stood against Communism. So... Gays are commies.
...Shit. I'm gonna have to kill Apollo and the Midnighter now.
| THE THIN MINTS ARE MINE.
Seriously. No touchies. Mine.
|Wednesday, October 4th, 2006|
Chalk up another power. Ability to make stupid people shut the hell up.
I need practice with this mighty ability. It was too late to make it stop hurting my brainmeats.
|Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006|
Well. I'm lost! May as well make the most of it before the others find me.
Bendix is gonna kill me when I get back, though.
|Friday, September 22nd, 2006|
|Thursday, August 31st, 2006|
Do you know... The Muffin Man?
|Tuesday, August 29th, 2006|
Crow Jane actually does very little in the way of work. It's just the way she is, these days. But, somehow, she's managed to funnel a ridiculous amount of funds into various bank accounts.
She's no idiot. Just ludicrously drunk, most of the time. It's the times that she's not when things finally start to get interesting. Over the past few weeks, since she learned that Henry Bendix Hers? Someone else's? Did it matter?
is alive and well, she's bought herself a small fortune in computers. The woman probably doesn't know what half of them do, but she's somehow managed to set them up, hook them into the Nexus, and gotten them to keep track of the various comings and goings in the Bleed.
It would be so
much more useful if most of them didn't keep monitoring a dimension of what appeared to be shrimp. Stoopid compooters.
Still, despite the massive blind spots, the occasional fires started from overheating, and the city-wide blackout due to the time she tried to reprogram the central computer to play Space Invaders, Jane feels a bit better about everything. At least she can claim to be keeping an eye out while Bendix plotted nasty, plotty things.
|Friday, August 25th, 2006|
I have no will to go on...EDIT!
I STILL HAVE BOOZE~ :D:D:D