I think I finally found a home. Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight.
Zero, if you want to reminiscence about good (and not so good) times around the Mare Magnum, I sometimes drop by here on slow mornings.
Mr. Collins
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Have a care, Mr. Collins. No one has yet been able to control the berserk rage generated by two untreated Immortals in close proximity. Any meeting is likely to end in tears. Hang on a little longer, and keep yourself safe. I anticipate good news shortly.
Other Pendragon
Knight
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Zero:
Thank you for your reply. After Other’s description of your encounter, I worried that we could ever find common ground. You give me hope.
I apologize if I seemed patronizing. I spoke from the heart, and I truly believe what I said. I’m neither innocent nor naive. A millennium and a half will knock that out of you right smartly. (I could tell you stories…) But my experience has been of a world where it is possible to get along, and I gather yours has not. That does not render either experience invalid, but I believe you may have absorbed too much of the aggressive impulses of those you have killed. I swear, some of the Immortals I’ve met seem to have spent their long, long lives as fourteen-year-old boys.
I’m sorry, but I really can’t accept your generous invitation at the moment (Dorsia, eh? Drool. Rain check?). I’m currently out of the country, but I expect to be back soon with some news that will be in your interest, no matter what your views on peaceniks.
Regards,
Myfanwy
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Looks at empty space on social calendar
plans trip to Metropolitan Museum of Art
or possibly Wales
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O my brothers and sisters, the time is come! This morning I nailed the following declaration to the door of Castle Messana, home to the tyrant @messana.
To the Tyrant Messana:
Sir:
Too many good people have died already. We the undersigned cannot in good conscience continue to fight our fellow Immortals for your incomprehensible purposes. We hereby withhold/withdraw our stances for the Gathering. Note that this declaration does not preclude our acting in our own defense in the future, individually or collectively.
Signed,
Other Pendragon @teknocholer
Mr Collins @David_Falkayn
Jane @MalevolentPixy
I call on all Immortals to join our cause!
Hier stehe ich. Ich kann nicht anders.
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I didn’t get into this business to have any relationships! I don’t want to join your goddamn union.
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What’s that martial beat, that somewhat bloodthirsty tune, that wafts on the breeze like an exhalation from the mouth of Hell?
What is this voice from beyond the veil?
Oi, oi, oi
Oi, oi, oi
Oi, oi, oi
Oi, oi, oi
Oi, oi, oi
See me ride out of the sunset
On your color TV screen
Out for all that I can get
If you know what I mean
Women to the left of me
And women to the right
Ain’t got no gun
Ain’t got no knife
Don’t you start no fight
'Cause I’m T.N.T. I’m dynamite
T.N.T. and I’ll win the fight
T.N.T. I’m a power load
T.N.T. watch me explode
I’m dirty, mean and mighty unclean
I’m a wanted man
Public enemy number one
Understand
So lock up your daughter
Lock up your wife
Lock up your back door
And run for your life
The man is back in town
Don’t you mess me 'round
'Cause I’m T.N.T. I’m dynamite
T.N.T. and I’ll win the fight
T.N.T. I’m a power load
T.N.T. watch me explode
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
I’m dynamite (oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
And I’ll win the fight (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T. (oi, oi, oi)
I’m a power load (oi, oi, oi)
T.N.T.
Watch me explode
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[Meanwhile, outside Forte Gonzaga in Sicily, two men approach the main door to discover a note with a conspicuous black spot has been stabbed into place. As they investigate, they begin to gesticulate and speak in an increasingly agitated manner.]
Salvatore: “Ehi! Stugatz! Che cos’è questo scherzo?”
Paolo: “Fanculo. Chi diavolo ha fatto questo?”
[Paolo takes the note down from the door]
Salvatore: “Pensi che Giacomo sia stato ubriaco di nuovo?”
Paolo: “Cazzo, hanno graffiato la porta. Che cazzo è questo, un pugnale?”
Salvatore: “Franceso sarà incazzato. Cosa dice la nota?”
[Paolo holds his head as he reads and re-reads the note, trying to make sense of it.]
Paolo: “Alcune stronzate di immortali che combattono … o non combattono … o merda come quella”.
Salvatore: “Segaiolo. Quel ragazzo deve smettere di bere così tanto.”
Paolo: “Vafanculo. Andiamo a lavorare.”
[The two men enter the fort and start their labors for the day as Paolo wads up the note and tosses it over his shoulder.]
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So be it.
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Several of us, especially Zero, know this place well – even if the current structure is but a recent folly
So the archivist has (at least) three friends out there.
And they’re a bunch of old Italian men that really don’t appear to give a fuck.
Lovely. We might get better luck getting their attention asking Jane to chase them around their compound with her jade axe. While I remain committed to the peaceful path, if more us of forced to fight against our will, we might want to consider to expanding our, “conversation,” to include them. After all, they’re apparently immortals, too. How do they resist the madness? Do they, really?
Even if we were to just camp out there, The Kurgan would find… all of us.
While waited, the food would be fantastic!
Your In Truth,
-Mr Collins
p.s. This site is ancient. It contains multitudes. Zero has memories. I have records. and we’re not the only ones.
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Forte Gonzaga, also known as Castel Gonzaga, is a bastioned fort in Messina, Sicily.
– Wikipedia
DAMN Google autofill!
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I forget my manners. Welcome to the Gathering, Comrade Kurgan. How convenient of you to show up just in time to make threats on behalf of your master.
You’ve always had good success picking off lone Immortals, especially from behind. How do you feel about facing three working as a team? Yes, my companions have been given the Mirror, the medication that blocks the receptors that drive us mad when we are exposed to the pheromones of other Immortals. We can still detect them, but they do not make us berserk.
We have no intention of fading away. (You do know what “immortal” means, right?) We have plans. One of which involves you.
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FTFY, sweetie. No way you’re going off Kurgan-bashing without me. I am sworn never to kill an Immortal, but it’s always okay to punch a Kurgan, I say.
[oils chainsaw]
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“Fool. I am my own master as well you know. Your pathetic sense of persecution at the hands of mysterious agents hasn’t changed in centuries.”
"You cling to these petty lies even now as you continue to deny what you are. Still upset that your big brother got all the glory?
"You know full well it’s not rage but ecstasy that drives us and you’ve never made peace with that. Made excuses. Concocted lies. Every Quickening is a blessing that allows us to see more, know more, understand more. And yet you persist in denying this fundamental truth.
"And now you’ve managed to convince two more that your delusions are real and promised them snake oil as their salvation?
[The Kurgan laughs uproariously]
“No matter. In the end, there can be only one. Choose to die on your feet or on your knees, my blade will take your head either way.”
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That’s why it’s called a union, asshole. Meet your new labour uprising. Ain’t solidarity a bitch?
P.S. Tribes beat solitary hunters all the time. That lone hero thing? It’s called a myth for a reason.
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[The Archivist continues to scribble ragged verse in the ledger before him. Blotting the page and futilely attempting to wipe the ink stains from his fingertips, he continues]
Like the salmon to spawn, like the moth to a flame, like the gambler to the game, all patterns of life obey a fundamental impulse - even when it may spell danger for that particular incarnation. This primal focus drives all life toward a transformation of self. When closing the last seam of the cocoon, does the caterpillar know it will become a butterfly? Or does it merely know it must perform this task with the utmost of urgency?
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Dear Archivist(s?),
May I suggest you expand your reading list? You seem frustrated by the question “what does it all mean?.” It doesn’t. The question itself is absurd.
As for any me, and perhaps my fellow mutineers, I choose this guy’s book
and this guys’s viewpoint
That is, I choose to persist, and to pursue my own “meaning.”
Yours in Truth,
–Mr Collins
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