I HAVE RETURNED!!!

Well, sort of. I've created an account on Avatars United, a proto-facebook clone purchased by Linden Labs. As it stands, it's a total frontier out here. From what my twitter friends such as @ordinal and @rivenhomewood are telling me, anyone else can create an account and call it Darien Mason as well, or even as @SecondLie dared to jest, DarienMason Linden! (I gave up on that plan a long time ago...)

Now, let's sit back and watch the chaos...

only heaven's silence for an answer

sputtering green glow and showers of sparks as the Scientist argues with himself, sprained ligament and tools clattering to the floor in a string of curses

My apologies, my friends.

androids fumbling with emergency power sources, dodging tentacles as a planet's core chimes mournfully towards critical mass

black and red tail arcing from rooftop to rooftop, jungle instincts and borrowed dreams lead crimson eyes over polluted sprawl

I'm just tired. Tired of second-guessing myself over what to disclose. Tired of wondering how long the Stalemate will last. Tired of fretting over what to write and who it's going to piss off. Too much time, not enough energy. A cast of characters arguing over the script, but the spotlight's broken and the costumes are shredded and the theater's roof is leaking.

a school of fish surround the clouded orb, then scatter as a pale hand slams against its inner wall

Another epic, thy want. Grittier and more gruesome than the last with no shark-jumping. All while supposedly hiding in the shadows and Invitation Only.

red wings soar from dream to dream, whispering warning to old allies

Let me get the financials under control first. Then I might shine the flashlight into that corners where the Masons have been hiding.

a glass of bloodwyne poured under a pale mountain moon, ageless hands idly unrolling watchmaker's tools

"All in good time, mein Herr. All in good time..."

triage and ultimatum

(NOTE: Reference made to Spoilers in the Shadow of the 13 Saga feel free to skip.)

There was a case of spontaneous human combustion today in Babbage, the death toll has yet to be fully counted. I was so busy tending to the wounded I did not have to consider how the flight of this "Willard" so closely resembles my own. Will I meet his fate as well?

And still my work is hampered by reality enforcement devices! I could have saved at least one life with an alchemical compound that will not mix while the citizenry play with these toxic radiations! As we can see from the case of "Willard" above, the devices seem to have minimal effect on Necromatic furmulae. That may explain why I'm still standing.

I am done trying to get it through the Clockwinder's distracted skull that these devices are even more harmful than the soot he loves to roll in like a chazer. It is time to take matters into my own hands.

Wren's been up to something

I haven't actually slept since the Return. The stasis chamber I used for the gargoyle was...restful, but more of a meditative state than a subconscious one.

What, then, caused me to collapse and lose consciousness last week? One minute I was unpacking some recovered artifacts from Mason Labs that Ama had put in storage (I hear she's engaged? I have to meet the lucky fellow!), the next Wren was crouched over me, terrified. She's been evasive on details.

I need to speak to Wren about the dangers of electricity. The silly girl got herself struck by lightning! She's lucky she didn't blow herself to pieces, I need to replace her frame and her entire cog array! She's lasted longer than some of my other Dolls, true, but at this rate...

London Stolen by Bats!

And it all goes downhill from there.



A rather entertaining Victorian horror-punk game, played from your browser and linked to your Twitter account. I'll be watching for you.