jeffrey jones

mounting the rhythm again,
i push.
stamping out fear through the soles of these feet.
a devotee screams, and shivers out;
a base bass of arrhythmic proportions.

in my blood in my blood in my blood.

i sing a song so old, only stones understand the sound.
the fires beneath, toss, and coil,
and i am alone in this time, this rhythm, this heat.
existing only for Mad Gods,
and the serpents...
writhing through the chambers of my heart.

Azoth:The Alchemical Jihad

Elder_Godspawn:You're being reactivated, old son.

NinetySixand2: I was never *deactivated*

Elder_Godspawn: Your name is on the books. Red File to Black.

NinetySixand2: Hold on there, I was just a bloody consultant. You can't simply just flip me like a switch.

Elder_Godspawn: We can, and we have. You're an asset now. What you do with it is up to you, but you're back in the game, #693.

NinetySixand2: Seriously?

Elder_Godspawn: Deadly. Go looking for MHB. It's of interest. And lose the implants.

NinetySixand2:...shit.

Elder_Godspawn: Indeed. BCNU.

Elder_Godspawn has signed off at 03:33

NinetySixand2: ...Be seeing you too...dick.

- Chat logs recovered from a laptop found in a burned out car, Liverpool, England - 17^th May.

“We find ourselves often wondering where things start, when the truth is, they never do.” Thus spoke Richard Latimer, back when I was someone else entirely. We were in an anonymous Starbucks, somewhere in Manchester. It was September 12^th, 2001.