The hacker names that correpond to file extensions are given in parentheses. These names were not included in the original files; in fact, most of the names remained unknown until the end of the game.
Wed,
19 Nov 2003 07:51:56 GMT to-night.jpg (Caesar) |
Prepare you,
generals:
The enemy comes on in gallant show; Their bloody sign of battle is hung out, And something to be done immediately.
I have been making lots of apologies today. My next one is to you all. I think it's pretty freaking obvious by now that I've had ulterior motives in all of this. The goose chases from site to site - it felt like a game to you probably, some organized piece of brainwork to pass the time, but I was hoping for some real detective work. I wanted to see if maybe all of you could come up with some piece of evidence I had overlooked. I've been looking for my parents for so long now I can't even remember the last time I slept in a real bed, or felt I could trust my surroundings to be safe for longer than a week or two. I used to think I was going crazy, on the worst nights. I've never been a paranoid kid, but the very nature of what I had done made me think that the world itself was literally after me. In some ways, I think it's amazing how this all shook out - bounce's smarts and tracing of the network I needed to focus on, mello's protections, texel's records and pattern-matching, hell, even scratch's animosity towards me were all keys to get me here, now. I've got my answer. I'm not happy, in fact, I'm freaking confused, but I do know one thing: I have to take responsibility for all that I've done. You're all in danger. Somehow, I wasn't careful enough, and there could still be some trails left out there in the world that lead to me, and, by extension, all of you. This whole thing is very, very big. I don't even know what this all looks like in perspective - I don't have any to spare. Tonight is one of the most terrible nights, ever. It's hitting me over and over again. There is safety in numbers, though. There is safety here, now. I am angry that I've been pushed into iambic pentameter. I'm changing this context, and this construct - I am NOT in a play, I am NOT just some character to be pushed into the next scene. I reject this script. I'm writin' a new one. The sooner you can get here, the better. Not kidding. +++ O,
pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, |
Wed, 19 Nov 2003 17:31:03 GMT to-night.txt (Texel) |
i've gotten
a few communications through other channels, but if i could get a show
of hands, it'll help us determine some of the parameters, here.
no time to explain right now, but i think we can make this happen. |
Wed, 19 Nov 2003 18:30:38 GMT to-night.graffle (Omni) |
Wed, 19 Nov 2003 20:35:47 GMT to-night.kbp (Mello) |
hay wtf tell me tell me! ok, so is it like ummmmmmmmmmmmm a big bat cave, and we can take sekrit elevators and get into our masks and live underground? eatin big turkey legs, gnaw gnaw gnaw, no napkins in teh underworld, sleepin on stalagamites or or or oooo its all h gee wells time machine and stuff!!!!1 hahahahahaha, vroom vroom whoah its 1970! nice bellbottoms caesar!! texel has feathered hair! oh no! its 1985 and i cant find my devo mix tape!!! i don't like being in danger. :( i dont know if i can come there, if its bad juju. :( |
Wed, 19 Nov 2003 23:20:06 GMT to-night.goo (Spawn) |
Thu, 20 Nov 2003 01:55:42 GMT to-night2.jpg (Caesar) |
Thu, 20 Nov 2003 02:10:30 GMT to-night2.txt (Texel) |
see, the thing
is, if we must, we must.
we've dug ourselves a hole, we've made our bed. i guess we never really know the consequences of our actions in a world like this.
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Thu, 20 Nov 2003 02:18:29 GMT to-night.doc (Breakpoint) |
Thu, 20 Nov 2003 02:26:55 GMT to-night.m_u (Double) |
Thu, 20 Nov 2003 02:39:13 GMT to-night.bh (Leak) |
Thu, 20 Nov 2003 04:02:33 GMT to-night3.txt (Texel) |
spawn just called
to say that he'd rather -not- be in the frying pan, so he's coming here.
excellent.
you're right, caesar, this is not unlike music. the form, the syntax, the overlay of melody to bassline - it's all there. the dissonance is the only blip in this landscape that gives me the wrong kind of shivers. are we fighting ourselves? have we been, all along? i can see more of us arriving now. what a vortex this tourist trap turned out to be! perhaps this is the last time i will ever be able to communicate in such a manner again. i have a sneaking suspicion that lots of changes are in store for us, after a time. new tasks, ways of coping. i am scared to death. my heart is pounding so hard i can feel it in my eyeballs. the collector is beautiful and awful and amazing. i can't wait for you all to meet him and to see what he can do.
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