Greetings and Salutations readers,
Allow your humble host, Al(x)ne, to introduce you to the newest member of our loving family. Allow me to introduce the Prey formerly known as Ronald Foster, now Dead Leaf. Say hello, Dead Leaf. Now, I know we said that he's dead, and well... He basically is, on the inside, at least. Ever since the Master finished His work on the boy, he's taken to staring at walls and scribbling in his notebook writing letters to his loved ones as of late. Letters he'll never send. He's also been doing a fair amount of crying as of late.
We could put a mask on him and sent him out there anytime. We could specifically send him out to where the Downsman currently is. What would you do, Liam? Would you kill Ronald in cold blood? Then would you blog "fucked up a proxy" as an afterthought while discussing other, more "important" matters? Oh, how you've obviously chosen the path of righteousness over us depraved servers of the Master. Though, I will admit that it is quite satisfying to feel a life fall at my hand. There is always that delight of the blood flowing out as your victim breathes their last. So by all means. Keep killing gleefully, NAPPA. Soon, you'll be so numb to the weight of a human life you may as well all be one of us.
Now I'll just step aside and let Dead Leaf take over from here.
Then Laugh And Weep
I Bid You All Ado
I Have Found The Master
The Hunt Ends
Well said, Dead Leaf.
You know, it isn't too late for him. Hmm. Now how should I do this? An offer to erase his memories, or perhaps let you put his fate to a vote. No, no, too redlight. The whole Robert thing has gone stale, anyway.
Aha! How about this? If you think you can, come and get him. In the meanwhile, he's the Master's honored guest and will be left at His...tender mercies, until you return to claim him.
If you're not here to get him by the 20th, he will be officially handed over to the Master permanently. If you abandon Dead Leaf...well, I don't need to tell how Theodore faired when Damien dreamed of darkness. The clock is ticking, children. Tickticktick.
Oh look, Dead Leaf is weaping again. Aw, he rocks himself back and forth, held in a tight embrace of his own arms. Hmm? Oh, you want to play with the blogs some more, Dead Leaf? Oh, certainly. I see no reason not. Have fun until it's time to go, then. We'll be waiting.