Blind Man's Gifts of Observation, Useful Means of Inanition.

Apparently, certain wordage featured on my previous post attracted someone's attention.

I mean, granted, I hinted at Starman getting the meaning behind certain words I've used in that post and there was a possibility that he would come out of hiding (Probably busy stuck doing his corporate crap) yet again to either try and probe my brain as to what I actually know, or he would skip all that and immediately start trying to track my ass down to have a round three (And in all honesty, for all I know he could possibly be doing that as I write this).

Who I didn't expect was a messenger, sent by The Blind Man. And here I thought our Creepy Crawlies were too busy warring over who humanity is terrified of more, right now. Then again, it shouldn't surprise me, after all, The Blind Man's seeming purpose is to document as much information as he can possibly muster, occasionally using that knowledge to intimidate his pawns and play around with them as he sees fit, you know, the usual Creepy Crawlie shabang.

If you're unfamiliar with The Blind Man, basically he is a creature much like our Tall Friend, only instead of constantly playing around with his victims, he only does it on occasion, sometimes for the purposes of recruitment, sometimes for the purposes of unknowingly doing his bidding (Suzie Kingston comes to mind) and sometimes, for absolutely unknown reasons, much like our Tall Friend. He also has his servants, probably the most organised, yes, even more organised than the proxies. I mean, come on, sure the proxies have had influence on a governmental level at some points, but they reached that level of influence numerous times over the years and overtime, they folded in on themselves, every time. Whereas the Blind Man's servants, The Archive are a bit more organised, influentially staying on about the same level, sometimes they would appear to the public to seemingly share their collected knowledge (It would only be bare bones and I suspect the reason they did that, is because they wanted certain knowledge to reach certain people, so they could uncover more information for them), most of the times they would remain hidden, documenting various historical events from the darkness of their Catacombs.

Then again, it's not hard to be that organised, when your only stake in the conflict is to sit on the sidelines and just document pointless crap that ultimately has no meaning. So it makes sense that The Blind Man would notice my little activities on the side, during the various pandemics that are striking the world right now, he tries to get his wrinkly fingers into all of the orifices he can possibly manage and yesterday, when I was out and about, doing my thing, observing the city below and thinking about things, this guy intrudes on my solitude.

"You need to cease your pursuit, you know not of the powers you toy with."

The striking accent was what really threw me off guard, what you read up there, was my best ability at transcribing what this person had said to me, if you want a more accurate sounding representation of what was said, then here you go, feel my pain:

"Yuh need fi cease yuh pursuit, yuh kno nuh of di powas yuh toy wid."

However, once I turned around to face my fellow, rooftop vagabond, I was even more confused as to this man's appearance. Now, granted, I haven't encountered a lot of the Blind Man's servants, I definitely never encountered any of his Gifted servants and I must say, if this is how they all dress, then I'm imagining the Catacombs to look like some sort of weird crossover between Gothic, Hood and Carnival culture.

So let me try and describe this specimen to the best of my ability: The gentleman was of African-American descent, judging by his wild accent, I'd say he was Jamaican. The only way I could see his skin colour is because he had this weird, white, mask on, that had very slit eye holes and had black lines cut into it, kind of representing a bird of some sort and the mask was only covering the top half of his face, everything from nostrils down was visible. He had a black, goat patch beard and whenever he talked, I noticed the street lamps reflect off his teeth, dude had gold teeth. And I believe his hairstyle would be described accurately as long, laid back dreads. Now his outfit, was some sort of black, cult-looking robe, why cult-looking? Because the edges of the robe (the buttoned placket, edge of the hoodie, sleeves, etc.) were covered in some weird ass, white writing, at least, I assume it was writing, since there was spaces between the symbols, indicating text. Black gloves, black dress pants and black boots. Only other weird thing was, that from the belt of his pants, you could see a bunch of chains hanging off down to his knees, the end of each chain had some sort of symbolic pendant attached to it.

So yeah, you can see what kind of circus show visited me the other night, so of course, I responded appropriately:

"Well, you're new. And what exactly are you supposed to be?"

He stood there for a second, looking around, his stance was stoic, with one hand behind his back and the other inside his robe. So you can understand as to why I didn't entirely let my guard down, he might not have been in a battle ready stance, but the hand in his robe could be gripping anything.

"It does not matter, what does matter is that you heed my message and cease your pursuit."

A message huh? Of course I would press on that part first.

"Wow, my very own messenger, interesting... And who sent you, might I ask?"

Another few seconds of silence, after which, I swear I could see his iris, underneath his mask turn white/gray, mainly because prior to that, I couldn't see his eyes behind the slit eye holes of the mask. After which he began to pull his hand out from inside his robe. Of course, in response, I formed a sharp edged sleeve around my hand, preparing for a possible attack. But an attack did not come my way, because all he pulled out was a musky, old, ripped in places book, yet another weird ass symbol on it's front cover. At this point it's kind of obvious that this goon was sent by the Blind Man, no question about it.

"He has observed you since your return, thing, he is convinced that you know something, but not everything, I repeat, cease your pursuit."

I did not remove my sharp edged sleeve, who knows what kind of voodoo The Gifted can pull off.

"Thing? Rude, not a very smart idea to try to convince someone to do something, by being rude to them."

The rudeness didn't stop there, because immediately after my statement, he started pointing at me with his other hand.

"You are an aberration and your actions run the risk of muddling in events that are out of your control, granting you an eternity of suffering, so spare yourself and cease."

At this point, I started to get excited, I'm not sure if this "messenger" realised what he was doing, but by saying stuff like that, he was only proving to me that my thinking process was on the right track, so there is no way I would heed his worthless warning.

"Oh really? Somehow I doubt that you, or the blind man are concerned about my suffering, I mean, it must not be that serious of an issue as to what I'm doing, or going to do, since the Wrinklemeister didn't decide to show up himself and instead sent his errand boy."

I was trying to provoke Masquerade over here into a reaction, I was curious as to what The Gifted were capable of, other than sitting on their asses and collecting information. And I thought it worked, because for a short period of time, his chains began to clang around, despite him not moving an inch and there not being any wind to move them around, but then they stopped and he put his pointing hand behind his back.

"My duty here is finished, thing, you have received your message. If you choose to ignore it, the consequences you face in the future will make you regret ever being brought into this plain."

And before I could mutter a response, he flung his book open at me, sending pages upon pages right into my face, there were so many of them and they were coming at me with such force, I thought he was trying to push me off the building, but just as I felt myself tipping over the edge, the pages stopped flying at me and began to fall to the ground. Once I was able to see again, he was gone without a trace and when I tried to pick up some of the pages, all of them quickly dissolved into dust and were blown away by the wind.

So there you go, looks like I'm doing something right, if I even got the Blind Man to get off his ass.