Clarity.

Our little Indoctrinated friend is mostly coherent now. He's still using no contractions, but he hasn't tried to get out of his bindings and he doesn't got batshit whenever we mention the looped apartment. He's still vomiting but less frequently and in very small amounts. Here's a transcript of him talking to Vieve.

V: You okay there, kid?

M: Yes. I am better than I have been in a while. What was that stuff?

V: The cure.

M: What is in it?

V: You really don't want to know. Now, if you don't mind, we want to ask you a few questions.

M: I shall try and answer them, although I cannot guarantee that I will not have another...episode.

V: We'll risk it. Were you the proxy that broke into our apartment?

M: Yes. I was.

V: How did you get the alarm codes?

M: Leah White knows your alarm codes. She wrote them down so she would not forget them in case she needed them again. She keeps all passwords et cetera in a spiral-bound notebook kept behind her computer screen. She also leaves her windows open at night.

V: Oh, Leah...Can you tell us anything about the looped apartment?

M: Two layers. Change one, change the other- spill coffee on the carpet in one, suddenly there is a coffee stain on the other. However, still seperate, and cannot interact with another person directly even if they are standing right in front of you. Also cannot see items anyone on other side is interacting with, so no flying coffee mugs. Moving doors, yes, washing machine suddenly full, yes, but no mysterious flying objects.

V: I see. What did you mean by "Resisting, too happy, too familiar, cannot be stable" and how was it related to the lights?

M: It was not related to the lights. The lights were just nice. What I meant when talking about that was that you two are a threat because not only have you made it this far, you are dispensing advice to others. You are not threatening in term of being ...bad...I cannot think of the word.

V: Badass?

M: Yes. You are not threatening in terms of killing but threatening in terms of that while you are still sane you will aid other bloggers, and breaking your sanity will be difficult as one of you will slap some sense into the other, so to speak.

V: So the "divide and conquer" was about separating us so we'd be easier to break.

M: Yes.

V: Well, if Slendy can still get into your head, tell it [EXPLETIVE REDACTED] up his [EXPLETIVE REDACTED] up his [DATA EXPUNGED] with a drill.

M: Will do.

Well...that was interesting. We're hoping that Mike will be A.O.K. by tomorrow so we can return him to his family.

In other news, Vieve has found another way of remembering the people who have passed on since she joined the blogs that she knows of. You know those friendship bracelets?

She has four on her wrist right now. One for Zero, one for Amelia, one for Melody and one for Fizzy. The latter two's statuses are unkmown but neither of them have updated in over a month so we presume they went down at the Solstice. She's in the process of making another, for Jeff's family.

Jeff, our hearts are with you. We're sorry for your loss.

--Chester

nightmares and butterflies

We both have the day off work tomorrow. And Monday, for Anniversary weekend. Should be plenty of time to deal with our little junior Masky. He's just a kid, he deserves better than this...this shit.

Fuck. Just a kid, that proxy. He...he knows just how to get to me. Claustrophobia, Kaylee, now this kid. I don't know what he's going to pull out against me next, how he's going to get to me but I keep having nightmares about Mum, Dad, Elaine, Jon, Kathy, everyone just dying and dying and dying and it doesn't stop, it's never going to stop and Chester in just standing there with his back to me and I reach out to him and he turns around and there's no face and I wake up and I lie there awake for hours trying not to cry. I'm not the only one kept awake by nightmares either. Chester gets them too. Sometimes I'll be trying to get back to sleep and he'll be thrashing around and mumbling in his sleep and then he'll wake up and I'll be able to see the fear in his eyes and I'll be glad, so glad, that he's with me and I can see he's okay.

When this was just starting I was okay with just me and my cat but now what with my own home becoming a prison and the fact that nothing seems to be for certain any more, it's good to have him around. I'm glad we're together, even if it makes us an easier target. Kill one, watch the other sink into despair. It would be so easy to crush us if they really wanted to try. We both have our weaknesses, both physical and mental, so easy to be exploited. We're fighting against potentially millions of proxies, with only a score or so bloggers.

Everywhere I look I see things falling apart, people dying. Nothing too awful has happened to me so far, but it's worse than watching people fall around me and being so powerless to help.

I have to hold on to something, a hope, a dream, laughter, love, anything I can think of, so I don't go mad.

I hear a little proxy, sneaking in the window. Do you think I'd leave the window open if I didn't want you to come in?

Yeah, I'm talking to you. I know you can see this. I can see you in the mirror. You only just noticed that, didn't you.

Not too bright, are you?

What we know so far...

This post is basically a collation of everything Vivi and I have found out so far through our experiences with Slendy. Most of it is unconfirmed (seeing as Slendy seems to like being inconsistent) but it's a start. We're no scientists, we just note stuff down. We don't know if we're members of the Keeper Alliance or whatever, but we'll do this anyway. Don't need to be a Keeper to want to help. I feel like an older brother to a lot of you, that's motive enough for me.

GENERAL:

Slendy has not gotten into our apartment once except for when Vivi was stuck in the loop. Not sure why. Could be that it's seven floors up, could be some other factor.

Vivi has seen him close up, and says that also he looks humanoid his "walking" is very odd, as though he lacked bones.

He seems to be able to see despite his lack of eyes (at least, he "looked" at us a few times over the past month, etc). So either he does have visual input (although perhaps not on his face?) or he has some other method (sonar? some kind of vibrissae? anyone know or have any other guesses?) of 'seeing'.

THE LOOPED APARTMENT

Vivi could go through any door in the apartment except for the main one. She also attempted to climb out the window, but found herself just coming in through the front door. She also says that she saw the doors open and shut several times while she was in there. Which is odd, because the same thing happened to us (doors opening and closing of their own accord) during the period she was missing. We have entertained the prospect that it was a hallucination or dream of some sort, which doesn't explain several things.

1) Jeff, Cheska and I ate dinner fairly early, loaded the dishwasher and then put it on. The next morning when we went to have breakfast the dishwasher had been emptied and partially loaded again with a plate, a mug of coffee or cocoa, and some cutlery as well. While we were talking about how odd this was, Vivi went "Oh, I wondered what those dishes were doing in there. I emptied it and put that stuff in there."

2) During the course of her stay in the looped apartment, Vivi got changed into clean clothes, partially because unless you want to flash your opponent or are wearing bike shorts/leggings/whatever underneath skirts are not good for fighting in. When we found her she was wearing the clothes had changed into and her old clothes were in the laundry.

Also, she began to feel nauseous shortly before Slendy appeared and threw up when he arrived. Also, she felt more and more sick the closer he got until she was exhibiting symptoms similar to "the mother of all fevers" at which point she stood up and grinned at him because semi-delirious Vivi is absolutely fucking crazy.

(I love you too, Chester~ --Vivi)

After her encounter with Slender Man, the says she felt the walls "closing in" and then fell unconscious. When she woke up she was in that cupboard we found her in and promptly freaked the fuck out. Did Slendy know about her claustrophobia (which she has NEVER spoken about to anyone) or was it just a lucky guess?

On that note, was there any specific reason why he targeted Vivi as opposed to me?

PROXIES

When fed the cure, proxies throw up. A lot. Most of it is this odd Slendergoop, which appears to have some...interesting properties. Ava of The London Librarian has a list of properties here.

They also appear to have difficulty with speaking (more specifically, with pronouns and contractions), although this will pass within 24/36 hours. Between giving them the cure and their regaining full use of their language centres it's a good idea to have them restrained somehow as they will suddenly come over all violent at random times. Also, DONT give them food until they can talk properly. No matter how hungry. It will not end well...

And that's just about everything. We saw Masky Jr again this morning, just standing there. At least the weather's good, so he's not cold, but proxy or not I keep wondering if he has food, clean water, a place to sleep...stuff like that. He's just a kid. I can tell Vivi is similarly worried, probably worse. She loves children.

We have the day off on Friday. We'll start planning how to catch him on Thursday evening, which is tomorrow. For now, rest.

--Chester

Masky

Guess who's found us? Yep. Our little friend from the the looped apartment. He (we now know it's a he) spent most of this morning standing outside the house. He hasn't tried anything yet, but we're wary. Jeff and Cheska left us plenty prepared, and although I have problems with harming women and children, this kid probably has information about what happened with the looped apartment. If we can question him, we may have a way of figuring out what the hell happened that day.

We know it's a he because there was a missing person report in the newspaper. Our little Masky is a 13-year-old boy named Michael. He's been missing for two weeks. His family are worried sick about him.

Just a kid, Slendy. Just a fucking kid. Hell, he tried to pet Cassy at one point. She ran away, smart little cat.

How low can this THING sink?

We just have to move forward and hope for the best. It's how Vivi and I have made it this far. We may be walking into the darkness of the unknown, but we can bring light with us. We're not alone. We can help each other. Hell, we already are. Bloggers are co-operating, banding together. We're one big slightly dyfunctional messed up family, and if Slendy messes with one of us the rest of us all jump in to help them, just like a real family rather than just a group of people all being stalked by Slendy.

It makes Vivi and I smile. The more we work together, the more information we pool, the better off we will be. Keep collaborating, bloggers. And if you're ever in trouble, you can expect some serious protective-older-sibling shit from the both of us, because we love you and stuff.

--Chester

Summertime

We're saying our goodbyes to Jeff and Cheska right now. Having them visit us was wonderful, and they were model guests. We're sad to see them go, but they have places to go and asses to kick. We're sending them home with hugs and some vegemite and hopefully some good memories. Something to hold onto when things get shitty.

Today is my favourite kind of weather. Sunny, yes, but really windy. The sort of wind that tears at your hair and clothes, rips leaves from trees and sends them dancing through the air. There's a window on the second floor tall enough for me to stand in, so I just stand on the sill, grab the frame and stand there. There's a deck/balcony thing outside (the next room has a door out onto it) so if I slip no harm done, but it's an amazing views. Streets, trees, houses, a sprawling city of 1.4 million people going about their everyday lives, unaware of the undercurrent of destruction in their everyday lives. It's influence, stripping people of any identity they have other than in relation to It.

I've done this before and I'll do it again.

Assertion. Thank you, Jean.

My name is Genevieve Marianne Sullivan. I am twenty years old. My favourite colours are blue and green. My parents are Marianne O'Flaherty and Benjamin Sullivan. I have an older brother, Jonathan, and a younger sister, Elaine. I was born in Rotorua, raised in Auckland. I work as a cook in a restaurant. I'm a college student, just about to enter my final year. I love cats, always have, can't comprehend life without them, not really a dog person. I had a shitty time at school until about halfway through middle school when I plucked up the courage to make some friends. High school was awesome and I have fond memories of it. I'm in love with   a guy I found trekking to school a while after the start of term covered in mud and looking like the most lonely person in the world nearly five years ago. I read, write godawful eldritch poetry, dance, and cook in my spare time.

(My name is Chester Matenga-White. I don't have a middle name. I'm nearly twenty-one. My parents are Janine Matenga and Lucian White. I'm an only child, and an Aucklander through and through. I hated school until 5th Form, when after nearly 16 years of reaching out someone finally reached back for me. I met a bunch of people who weren't stupid, weren't rascist, and had the same interests as me. I work as a waiter at the same restaurant as Vivi. I love science, I have a massive collection of science documentaries, although my love for science is closely contested by my love for the performing arts. I'm not afraid of the unknown, because all there is to combating it is to have curiousity, which I have in spades.)

You can't take this away from us.

This is why were aren't running. If we run, fleeing from It will define our lives.

Chester and I went into work today. Tried to keep things fairly normal.

(Everyone noticed something was up with Vivi, at least, if only because her being stoic is a very odd occurrence so naturally something was up.)

We told them as close to the truth as we could- that a good friend of mine had passed away. They were very nice about it. Even Max, who doesn't like me very much, joined in the group hug.

I love my friends.

I think today did me a bit of good. Fizzbomb is gone, but the rest of the world isn't. While she was alive she was a good friend and someone to look up to, and I will miss her. When I was feeling down, once, she sent me the song "Lean On Me."

I have that song on my iPod now, and every time I listen to it I will remember her.

Everyone stay safe.

--Vivi

The Isabel Initiative/Strength

Chester here. Today, we said what will probably be goodbye to one of the most memorable bloggers currently around. I didn't know her too well (I don't really know anyone too well, having only been around since just before the solstice) but she seemed not only like a good person, but like a complete and utter Bad Ass. I'm not just talking about her Crazy Survivalist tendencies either, I'm talking about the fact that she was a good friend to Vivi and to everyone, which in my eyes is just as valuable as all the badassery in the world. In short, about as badass as they come.

We're going to fight in your name, Fizzy. The Isabel Initiative. I like it. We're fighting for you, Fizzbomb.

Vivi would be making this post in my place as she knew Fizzbomb a damn sight better than I do, but she's had a tough time lately and the events of this weekend have been a bit much for her, I think. She might say something once she's finished using up all the tissues.

Goddamnit, I need a tissue too. It always hurts when you people die, you know that? Whenever someone goes off, and you know the likelihood of them dying is high, it hurts. God knows I'm deadly afraid of all you people dying around me, so many more people just flooding in only to just die and die and die and even though there are always more, you feel more and more alone.

There, I admitted it. Seeing as Vivi never told anyone, not even her parents, about her claustrophobia and they still managed to exploit, I'll come clean. The thing I'm afraid of most is being alone. I spent most of my early life being a total social outcast, to the point of attempting suicide at one point. I transferred schools for the last three years, met a certain quirky redhead on the way to school a couple of months into the school year and never looked back.

I'm terrified of something like that happening again. I don't mean sitting in a room by yourself alone, I mean having no one who you really mesh with, no one to confide in, just yourself and a bunch of science documentaries left to you by your dead granddad. That kind of alone. The kind of alone that makes people like me, who thrive on light and colour and noise, go crazy.

The thing I'm not afraid of however is admitting it. The first step to overcoming fear is to acknowledge that it exists, because if you sit on something like that it's bound to emerge somehow, probably at the worst possible time.

Vivi wants to say something. I'm handing the laptop over to her now.

--Chester.

Fizzbomb.

You were a friend to me. An awesome, badass friend. You called me Vivi, a name that's spread like a virus and now everyone calls me that.

It's a name I'm proud to bear. It's mine, a reminder of you. I'll wear it proudly.

Thank you for everything, Fizzbomb.

If you're reading this by some miracle, whether alive or up in Heaven (where you most definitely belong) we love you. We'll never forget you. I don't care if I give up and take Redlights offer a thousand times over, somewhere in my heart I will remember you.

R.I.P., Isabel Dorter.

--Vivi