YAWN

It's not a phrase.
It's not quotable.
It's a FUCKING ACTION.

Literally meaning a lack of.. action.

You are boring me, little droog.
Boring me.
But, I've heard that only the boring get bored, so this does not apply.
At least to me and mine, anyways.
We are always up to NO GOOD.

Let's get something straight you chubby troll (notice I didn't say little? you are nowhere near that! and to define this particular use of 'troll', it is the ugly creature that likes to eat goats whom lives under a bridge), I don't like you.
I don't like any humans, least of all obese degenerates like yourself.
You have one accomplishment in my eye (it's STILL OUT) and that's gaining my ire.
I am not jealous of you, I don't envy you, I just don't like you.
Take the human descriptor out and I still don't like you.
A manatee doesn't have any uses except to lounge there and be fat.
You are a waste.
You are utilizing valuable oxygen (that could be put to MUCH BETTER uses) and getting fatter. That's a tax we are no longer willing to pay. Your right to life has been revoked. It's time to abort you.

I said it (RE: lawyers).

In the coming months, you will begin to see a change in this page.
Not a revision or destruction of contact and information, what is is.
A more straightforward approach really, a direct attack from the front.

I have accumulated files upon files of information about you and yours' illicit activity and it's due for exposure.
Just to name a few of those soon to be DOXXED (I said the SECRET WORD! AAAAAGGGHHH!)?
I could play dumb, we all know how EASY that is for me, but I will oblige this one thing and move on.

We'll see how long it will take you to recover once the BOMBS START DROPPING.

My initial difficulty is disseminating the teams from the individuals. All of The Initiative are not at fault, but Jack Cero has cross hairs painted on his ass. RCSM isn't at fault, but Jesus Jones is a walking accident. Skiffytown, Black Monday Society, and more.. yet their individual members have so much dirt they could fill the Grand Canyon to its brim.
There's more to that, but not for now.

Then there is 'villainy'.
Groups is somewhat of a misnomer for 'villainy'. They have little to no cohesion to begin with, the individuals only looking out for themselves, there is little need for structure and even less want it.
But I will divulge the grim reality of R.O.A.C.H., the Roaming Eye, the Legion of Doom, and more.

It's all coming out, because you can consider this THE WASH.

Starting very soon, Agent Wraith will bring you the juiciest and dirtiest secrets of this so called community, he will shed light on the seedier aspects they DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW.

It's all coming to a head and the fingers of PUBLIC CONSUMPTION are pressing down.
In a few short months, the gooey abscess will rupture.

Good news?
Once it has been lanced and drained, the healing can begin.

-aw

p.s. Coming soon to a blogtalk radio show near you, The Exposé.

Santa and Me

I've done it!
I'VE DONE IT!
The Multiverse™ will soon fall to OBLIVION!

I've been working diligently all year, striving to complete this one.. thing.

A few years ago, I discovered a brilliant young scientist who was working with paradimensional resonance or some junk and took him under my wing (ie. held him at gunpoint and forced him to do my bidding; kill your family and friends leverage crap, you know the take). I funded his wild experiments and he made sure I was always with coffee.

He would explain quantum theory (or try to) and I would not sleep through his presentations ever! I payed 110% attention to every word, every detail.
As The Multiverse™ expanded, he expounded.

Just last year, several of the lowest levels of Los Sauces were flooded and we lost progress on several key elements. It was a setback, but only a minor one. We also lost a few investors that put us in the red.
That was a bigger setback.
Dr. Tarantula, greasy maniac that he is, offered to 'loan' us some cash to help get us back on our feet.  He subsequently pulled the rug out from under us and we went spilling out of Los Sauces.
To be refused entry by chickens (of all creatures) was insulting.

It was Henchmen that we turned to, Dear Reader. Henchmen.
Vile beings, though loyal, who were willing to do what it takes to get the job done.
They caught me, my guard down, and pulled me from the edge of OBLIVION's caress.

Through the last year, with strides, I returned. Operation: Kill Kringle 2011 was not a complete bust, for I took from the Fat Man his coveted list.*  With all the names.
All the names and all the addresses.

And all your desires.

And what do i want all this for?

Ü

to burn it all down, of course

Oblivion, Dear Reader, is my only course.
The Multiverse™ has it all. Everything. Every possibility.
The only action that would make any sense, that would have meaning, is oblivion.

Oh poo, I guess you caught me monologueing. Sigh, I guess you're going to try to stop me now.
Aw, shucks, I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you rotten kids.
Oh wait.
I'm not giving you my plan.
I don't make plans.

I also wouldn't tell you any of what I am up to if you had any chance of stopping me.  Operation Kill Kringle 2012 is already over. The Fat Man is already dead.
His sack was removed (long ago, according to his Missus), reindeer captured (barbequed, tasty!), elves slaughtered, and technology reverse engineered by capable robot hands. Better luck next ti ha ha haha. There won't be a next year, kiddies!  Nets.
Santa's reindeer are a different breed, Magnus. They could chew through irradiated cables, mutated. Not keen on the netting. Or the barbeque.

Don't give me that look.
The Multiverse™ gents. And ladies.
And whatevers.
ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.
Look into the face of Oblivion.
Gaze into nothing.

My marvelous weapon, Dear Reader, is yet to be revealed.
It took several raids, some in the dead of night when secrecy can be maintained the easiest. We tramped into others' territory and pilfered what secrets we could.  I did a few drops in Lake Town, had a chilling brunch in Colorado Springs, and got crates full of loot out of New Jersey.
Oh sure, some of it smells.

A combination of alcohol, crow, and actors.

I spent some time up in Seattle, though brief, and came out the other end a more vicious, more determined ghost.  I got down to Portland, up to Yellowknife, across to Kingston, and missed the flight to Essex.
We had more planned, but we don't make plans, so Beijing is right out.

Thanks for all the plans, scientist-types.  Your work is harmless apart, together all is made dangerous.
The culmination is a weapon of awesome power.

Well, weapon is in the eye of, well, the hand of the be-- well, holder.
It's not a weapon, in the right hands.
Fortunately (unfortunately) it's in the wrong hands.
A self righteous prick who's ready to do what it takes to get the job done.
That's right.
A Henchman.
The lowest sub-category of human.
And moreso unhuman, because of the whole.. dead thing.

I choose to behave this way. Whether Henchman, Minion, or Villain.
I am, what I am.
I have served none save myself, even when purposefully serving others.
That just makes me EVIL.
That's a label I can.. live... with.

Here in the NECROVERSE, where all things go when they die, we have learned immense patience.
You will come to us, eventually.
You all will.
It all comes out in the wash, eh?
For all your fury, you remain as you are:

nothing

welcomehomeapocalypse
welcomehome





-AW


*You would think after all these years and the boon technology would be to such a job, why doesn't he just get a GPS? I've spotted a few satellites in my day, one of em had to be from the North Pole.

THIS POST HAS ADS!

Imbecile.

Warehouses are hard to come by.
Empty warehouses used to be easy to find, everyone was always looking for more places to put their stuff.
Mexico is also well known for it's vast warehouse selection.

It's the wonderful seeds of war.
A few warehouses to tinker in, spread the chaos.

That moment when you have to decide between ammunition and personnel.

Very soon, the shipments roll in again. The sorting may begin.
A vault of machine weapons and their various ammunitions and I'm Scrooge McDuck.

THINK OF THE POSSIBILITIES

WAR.
It's a race now.
All out to the finish line.
Yes, THAT finish line.

Don't adjust your set.
Who gets the best toys? What fires shall burn?


-Agent Wraith
Might start a guild.
Maybe even a troupe. lol
Whatever comes next, Ferrymen..

instigation

by now you must realize that it was not a joke.
it truly is supervillain war.

this will probably not be the only time you hear about this. there's a 'buzz' going on, you just have to know how to look for it. but it is going on.
villains choose what to publicize. i may face the crosshairs for this post.

whatever.

what i do know, i will keep. only clues, as from the beginning, will you get.

eyes everywhere see
incensed, enraged, you lie
yours is the hero's path

villain's are a prideful sort. they boast, they claim, they terrorize.
it's all part of their schtick.
but in reality, it's all bunk.
what little they have is dramatically exaggerated.
and some villains have very, very little.

some are
very
very
little

there are upstarts in this arena.
charlatans, false-tongues, sheep in wolf clothing
they will have you believe in their villainy.
they will have you believe they are evil.

i say nay.
where once my support was cast to villainy at large, it has retracted.
i will keep my company with whom i choose.
and i choose no longer to smile curtly while shit spews from hero-turned-villain-turned-hero mouths.
heroes, as you all know, lack a certain.. class.
they proselytize, because they want you to drink the punch (SEE: Jonestown)
evil. pfft.
what you know of evil i could fit into a shoebox with enough room left over to fit what happened the last time a 'villain' dare show his ass (re: the 'real' baron terror). you know of evil.
but you are not evil.

i pierce through the mirage.
i see more than i let on.

and you see less than you say you do.

next time you decide to 'team-up', you'll have to stick to your fellow taser mules.
villainy remains forever.

you are also an ass-hat.


-aw

We're doing this now

We're doing this, now.

Super Villain War

M.O.D.O.K. plays for keeps.
Sleep well.

-AW

A Challenge?

Recently, I've headed onto the Pokemon Global Network to terrorize 'trainers' with my mighty team of Ghost Pokemon. As stated on Facebook, I am not joking.
I am also not a LAME Pokemon villain.
I'm just lame.

X the Owl, a level 96 (and climbing) Noctowl with Air Slash, Fly, and Hypnosis. Psycho Shift also puts your status changes to shame. Unless, of course, your little shits ability negates it.
Maximus, a level 93 Misdreavous. Found in the Safari Zone at level 40 or so.
Three Legendary Pokemon, Lugia, Darkrai, and Giratina.. Lugia with Thunder and Extrasensory, flies in at level 97. Darkrai, whose capture took two hours, a carefully placed salt canister, and patience, falls in at the bottom of the totem pole at level 91. The ability Bad Dreams makes it a fierce competitor. Giratina, a Ghost-Dragon.. rounds them out with Shadow Force.
Finally, Spiritomb, that I finally caught on that G-D damn Pokewalker. Over 200,000 steps.. crawling through caves, searching with Pokeradar..

Lame Pokemon villain.

The nerds will come soon. They will shout for revenge.
The conventions will boil with their pimply rage.

The sun will soon set on your shenanigans.


On to more pressing CHALLENGES!

I want a hero.
I want them all.

They should call in to my talkshoe show.
Don't give me the bullshit.
"But.. you have to make an account! Waa."

Did you know blogtalk registers your phone number? Much easier to find your location that way, eh, DW?
IP only gets you close.
A phone number, even unlisted, can get you an address.
A full, mail receiving address.

Look at it like this, capes.
I'm protecting you.
If you don't want to create an ID (that takes, what, a minute of your precious Facebook time) then just call in. It gives your general location.. like Southern Illinois.. or North Carolina.. and nothing else.
Sign in and all I get is your Display Name.

I don't want to know where you are through talkshoe.
I already know where most of you are through other means.

I want you to come to me and present me with challenge.
At least some material.

Bribe me. Chide me. Hate me.
Fuck, promote your spandex wearing ass.
Stop hiding from me you little angels.

COME AT ME BRO.

Fridays, 11ish.. EST.
724-444-7444.
show id 99681.

It's not difficult.

Don't make me do something drastic.

Crisis On Infinite Identities

Greetings Villains!

(And special shout out to those who lurk*, I know you do. Ghost-in-the-machine, remember?)

I've been in recent contact with many folks, some new, some old, from all walks of life, from all over the planet. I think one might actually NOT be from this planet, but let's not get into that right now.

What some have been absolutely obsessed with is MY identity.

I play Mind Games* on a regular basis (see: FRIDAYS) with them, dodging their insistent question and sometimes loosing what seems like vital identifying information.

Some of it true, none of it pertaining to me.

Why does it matter so much to anyone? Does my identity matter?

I could very well be anyone, this is true, but in toto:

I'm Agent Wraith*.

You have to have some level of suspension of disbelief (really) to even begin to understand the crap within and without this 'community'. Okay, it would be perfectly awesome to live in an abandoned missile silo compound in the deserts of Mexico. With or without the dangerous drug cartels.

I think an extra layer of intrigue is added when you consider I'm actually in New Jersey*, in my mother's basement.

Enh, could be worse.

What does it matter; the man behind the mask? Do you think that by knowing who or what I am or once was, where I came from, how I grew up, you are going to gain some insight as to how I came to be or why I think the way I do?

You are obviously not paying attention.

I fit no mold.

No amount of psychology or degree in social sciences or home-grown Dr. Feel is going to counter that or find someway to reach me or give you any in-depth look as to how this brain functions.

maybe dissection. but, incorporeal, remember?

No, of course you don't.

You want a little taste? I'll give you one. No, two.

Back in the day, I ran with a very dangerous crew.

We had this saying:

"Run with the wolves* or run from them."

I've had plenty of time to grow, thinking and rethinking that phrase, even trapped and killed me a few of them 'wolves' and wolves.

I know their weaknesses.

I know their strengths.

I keep talking about Oblivion and the Abyss.

There's a reason. And it's not just the Harrowing.

The darkness, the shadows, they call me back. Soon, I will take my place among them again.

I'll be hidden again, not even a trace of my IP*.

I won't be a lying fuck*, because there will be nothing to lie about.

Are you paying attention now*?*

*Do you understand?

To answer your* question, yes. I will be going on tour similar to Night Owl. But instead of pissing my pants with every RLSH I meet.. I'll be delivering sandwiches.

Oh, you read that right.

Sandwiches.

And One does not need a hand to stand afterwards.

Prepare yourselves for the worst and hope beyond hope for the best.

Villains, Heroes; your common denominator is that you are HUMAN.

And for that you will not be forgiven.

DEFCON 1, remember?

Oh, sorry, that's right. No one is listening.

Hey, here's a Mystery. Ever look into a mirror and see something that's not there? Something that has no reflection? Not, Bob. That was the joke.

No, I mean, does not have a reflection.

Interdimensional entities.

They will be coming for you.

And so will I.

*To further add to the confusing/understanding; I am Grim RLSV. I love listening to the sound of my own voice and love talking to myself. Hours and hours we, I mean, I could ramble on. Mind Games. O rly?

Balaclava (disambiguation)

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term Balaclava; here's a wiki-link for its disambiguation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balaclava

For those of you sticking this out, I'll sum up my favorites.

Balaclava, an article of clothing, typically a mask of sorts, which can be worn in many ways.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balaclava_(clothing)

Balaklava, Crimea, Ukraine, whose 'ownership' has changed hands numerous times throughout history and perhaps where the Black Death came to Europe from.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balaklava

Also, the Battle of Balaklava...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Balaclava

And my personal favorite,
Balaklava, California.. a former settlement, now a ghost town.

While you enjoy this disinformation you can listen to this wonderful find:

"In peace, sons bury their fathers / in war, fathers bury their sons." -Herodotus.


This wonderful romp through internetery is brought to you by Los Sauces Entertainment.
"Entertaining is entertaining, for us."

§lenderman Mythos

If you believe a RolePlayer in his mother's basement is scary (what the HELL is wrong with you?), then you are going to believe quite a few things before you're eaten by that bloodthirsty rabbit (remember when you followed it down that dark hole?) and probably a few things after that.

Slenderman (and most of his dopplegangers) is derived not from some legend out of legend (not mentioning the hallucinations that could come from some Legends).  It's not Norse, at least not from what research I've gathered.  Although there is talk about a firewyrm going around, but that's neither here nor there.

From most of what I have gathered, it all began with some contest over at somethingawful.

Very creepypasta.

With all things (it must be said), there comes a price.

Sadly, as a species, you are doomed to failure.

From the 'legend' came a throng of... well, impersonators.

Whoever was first, it matters little now, as history will proclaim the winner (therefore who writes it).

MarbleHornets, EverymanHYBRID, TribeTwelve... the future documentors of late-night YouTubery.

What is my obsession with late night?

From there, all sorts of mischief pops up.

DarkHarvest, BoneCreek, DarkJournal.

Slenderman grows in leaps and bounds.

When you craft something, when you give it life, you must be careful.  When these things are loosed upon the world, whether known or unknown to you, it can take on new life.  It may have the capacity for individual thought.  Sure, you may not be terrified by an eldritch creature from out of shadows, but there are plenty of idiots growing out there who may, and plenty of idiots now who are.

You gave it life, idiots.

Still, much like Eaters of the Dead, to name it is to give it power. To fear it, gives it power.

The human mind (incapable most days of even the most minute rational thought) is exceedingly powerful.  Especially over itself.

Should you believe (blindly) that a fire will not burn you, there is a chance that you may feel no pain.

Oh, your hand's flesh will still sizzle (maybe), you may even feel slight heat (possibly), or you may cringe as you damage your hand for the rest of your (natural) life.

But there is a slim chance (SLIM) that your hand may escape unscathed.

Slenderman is real to many.

He stalks them, he plays proxies of one another, and he may even steal away your children.

For what nefarious purpose?  I'm not completely sure.

There's a 'free candy' joke in there somewhere.

He (or it) has been built up so much that his presence has instilled fear in the strongest of mortal minds.

But, only because they have allowed it to be.

The others (the more disturbing of the lot) are different.

They don't use the mystery or uncertainty for profit-sharing or view hits.

It's a form of control.

There is a chance that there may be a 'copycat' out there, using the joint literary effort of others to perpetuate their stalking behaviors.  Could it be that there are 'proxies' out there, kidnapping, torturing, or perhaps even (gasp! sob!) killing people?

The fact is humans, whether you want to believe it or not, that there are scary things out there that DO go 'bump in the night'.  They may or may not take the visage of legend.

Not that I want to frighten any of you, that would be a mistake.  The human brain doesn't learn very well in a frightened frantic state.

Fear is a powerful motivator!

Just not much for learning.

Except maybe not to think fire won't hurt if you stick your hand in it.

To those of you who are pursued by these creatures, chin up.

They may have all the power since you long ago gave in to fear.

But do not go doggedly into the night, scraping your last meal from garbage bins, succumbing to the inevitable clash when Slendy takes you to the Phantom Zone.

Chin up, Defender.

The world is watching.

-Agent Wraith

Let's Begin

You have something to say?

Anything at all?



...


...

No?


Ask Agent Wraith
agentwraith@gmail.com

p.s.  how about now?

Terrible Thoughts

This is to my little owl.

The things you have spoken to me, the thoughts, confessions, and reasoning are still held in my confidence.

I do not disclose them.
I am, however, going to reveal some things.
Brace yourself, I fear no reprisal.
I will lament a loss of communication.

When you were young (naive) you were taken in by (supposed) leaders.
You were entreated to their protection and their declarations of safety.
You were one of them.
Among them.
In a circle where everyone faced each other as equals.

What did it get you?

Betrayal.

Humans are proven to be more than capable of this on many occasion.
Some relish the opportunity.
Some live for it (re: sociopath).

But, what did they do to you?
They not only betrayed you, they violated you.
They tore down the best parts of you, sundered your mind and body, left you for dead.
I know of only this world where that is possible.

I do not doubt your claims.
I do not doubt the sincerity in your voice.
I may be a gullible ghost, but I am in no way incapable of empathy.
And I do honestly feel for you.

What troubles me is a lack of trust.
I have shown you my true face, abashed and bare, for you to acknowledge me as not one of your tormentors.  I did not ask to see your face (although you didn't hide your teeth, always bared) and did not see your face.
I have no accusations to throw at you.

I do have a question though:

Why not bring this to light?
Why not show the world how pathetic these 'heroes' are?
Why not stand firm on the pillar of villainy with villains?

You stated your intentions.  They are villainous.  In certain circles, vigilantism.
Were it not for the glaring justice you seek, I would almost cast you aside and worry not; the authorities will get to you soon enough.
But, since your first communication, I have seen no proof.  No evidence (except the scars) of what they did.  I'm not discrediting them.  I'm not discrediting you.

But these are SERIOUS claims.  Very serious allegations.
It begs to reason that this is why you have not come forward.
Because it is all lies.
Are you a little snitch, little owl?
Do you desire my identity to reveal to the world?
Are you stockpiling information on me, my subordinates, my henchmen, for your own gain?

We will need to talk again.
We will need to meet again.

I did not ask for names before, I will this time.
I did not ask for proof, I will this time.

And you will show me your face.

By doing these things you prove to me your sincerity.

Only on facts do we stand triumphant.

Good nite, little owl,
Agent Wraith

p.s. That's right.  I said it in labels. Real Life Super Zeroes.
RLS0

(X)

the number you have reached:

212-###-####...
..has been disconnected.

Circumstance.
Wanting.

Fading.
Resistance.

Trials.

Testing.

Waiting.

Seeking truth.

Searching for answers.

Walking in darkness.

-wArRiNg-
-In-
-sHaDoWs-