8.17.2013

A decision.

There's very little to send back to the cat-obsessed barracks we call the Internet, except that we've come to a solid decision. Pascaline was working on ways of breaking the loop, she seems optimistic. It (unfortunately) takes priority over research into the Crazy Bint.

Zwielicht likes to try and rustle my jimbobs by talking shit to me in German. How do I know it's talking shit? Well, tone of voice is a universal language. I called Matvei over. "You're German; translate for us."

"I'm not German."

"Oh. Then where the fuck are you from?"

"We've been over this, I'm from-"

"That's wonderful, please go find us a German teacher."

Matvei did not find any German teachers, but he did find a pupil, a friend of Felicity's actually, a nine-year-old German girl called Karolin. At his insistence, we covered up the Crazy Bint with a light blanket, so Karolin wouldn't have to go through the trauma of seeing the wounds and the dress.

After a while we decided it wasn't good for Karolin to be in the same room as the Crazy Bint. So, we're keeping her (AraBINTa) in the blanket and pooling everything into getting the fuck out of here.

Where the hickory-dickory-dock is Matvei from again?

-Talmzebub

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