call_me_spooky: (Now I can only trust you)
[Private; HACKABLE]


[x - 40253]
current location; unknown
present: (city date)
- 04.01.09
- 07.04.09

- actual nature, whereabouts, & temporal situation unclear
- appearances coincide with a semi-regular City occurrence wherein assorted, apparently unrestricted 'outsiders' visit for a 24-hour period; documentation here


[x - 73317]
current location; unknown
present: (city date)
- 01.19.09 through 04.16.09 [realtime approximately 1997?]
- 04.30.09 through 07.28.09 [realtime unclear - presumed after 1999]
|

[/Private]


Two weeks.

For anyone who knows her, Agent Scully has once again left the City.

Yesterday was far too reminiscent of the mushroom thing for my tastes. Then again, I've been waiting for this place to dissolve into a pile of green goo since October.



[ooc; i've been having muse troubles with him, but he's not gone quite yet >>]
call_me_spooky: (An act of faith)
[ Private; Hackable with effort ]

I have chased truth to the exclusion of all else; risked and sacrificed everything I held dear. My career, my life; those I loved; all casualties in the pursuit of some inexplicable explanation, a tangled web whose ephemeral strands I've sought to grasp without thought to the cost or the consequence.

And now I find myself the agent of secrecy, the architect of my own small conspiracy; not because I know the end is coming, but because I know it is not. I have seen the end of the dark passageway my partner is walking; have been blinded by the light of day that lies beyond. I've lived the days she doesn't dare to hope for, in these moments when her faith in science rallies its forces against her faith in herself, her belief in God.

Is it possible-- is it wise-- to bridge the years between us, the distance I attributed to shock? Would it drive her away, to know how close we have yet to come? Or will it do more harm to keep these things from her; a future she cannot fight, waiting upon her return to the real world.

I can't keep this secret... But I don't know how to share this truth.
[ /Private ]

[ Filtered Away from Scully ]


So. Question of the evening-- who comes from a world where they've figured out to cure cancer? Better yet, who can do it themselves?

Yes, there is a certain amount of urgency involved here.

[ /Filtered ]
call_me_spooky: (Default)
Dear Santa,
I want Christmas to pass without any crazy and/or embittered ghosts trying to use pop-psychology crap to force my partner and I into a festive murder-suicide pact. That would definitely help. I mean, on one hand it was awesome, because
there were definitely ghosts there and I'm not the only one who saw them, but on the other hand, she shot me.

I want sunflower seeds. That's an easy one.

I want to know the truth. About everything.

I want Scully to show up here, because after the City she'd never think
I was crazy again.

I want my action figure to be cooler next time. Maybe laser eyes? I think laser eyes would be pretty awesome.

I want... well, okay, aside from the ghosts-murder-suicide thing, I'd like this Christmas to be like last Christmas.


I'd normally call it an exercise in futility to write a letter to Santa, but who knows? The fat man in the red suit wouldn't be a huge surprise here. I don't know. I was never the sort to leave milk and cookies out as a kid, and our parents weren't the sort to convince us that we ought to. And... well.

Here's a request that doesn't require magic reindeer or obese men, which might be for the best since we don't have a chimney, anyway: Who can tell me something about this City's mysterious clock, other than the fact that the ticking is a major pain in the ass? Why's it here? What does it do? I'm curious.

Profile

call_me_spooky: (Default)
Fox Mulder

call me Spooky

I'm the key figure in an ongoing government charade, the plot to conceal the truth about the existence of extraterrestrials. It's a global conspiracy, actually, with key players in the highest levels of power, that reaches down into the lives of every man, woman, and child on this planet, so, of course, no one believes me. I'm an annoyance to my superiors, a joke to my peers. They call me Spooky. Spooky Mulder, whose sister was abducted by aliens when he was just a kid and who now chases after little green men with a badge and a gun, shouting to the heavens or to anyone who will listen that the fix is in, that the sky is falling and when it hits it's gonna be the shit-storm of all time.

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