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29 September 2007 @ 10:40 pm
Somewhat backdated: Isaac comes across an argument in the street, finds himself the center of an odd tug-of-war, and finally shows proof of appalling thoughtlessness. It's amazing he's survived this long, really.

Loggy!Collapse )
A backdated log in which Isaac crosses paths once more with Lucien, the distressingly... blank... person he failed to rob a few days prior.

Loggy!Collapse )
A late night meeting between two foul-mouthed delinquents takes a turn for the angsty.

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25 August 2007 @ 11:10 am
If anyone should happen to wonder where the weird quiet player of Isaac has gone off to, I will tell you: it's into the nightmare realm of wireless internet. I'm at a point where I can't stay logged on for more than two minutes without my connection dropping me, and until I get a hold of someone to either sort this problem out or to offer me a better deal, I'll need to be absent from the game to preserve my own sanity. I hope it won't take long.
Current Mood: frustratedfrustrated
21 August 2007 @ 10:43 am
The Red Light District. I don't know why the hell I even come here. Everything's just... off, with the place. There is so much pain here, so many conflicting impressions, so many smiling faces hiding so many broken souls. Still, the picking's easy if you go for the right people-- the doped up idiots and the rich arrogant assholes who are too busy trying to hide what they're doing here to notice anything else.

That guy, though? He was different. Not outwardly, perhaps, but... he didn't just disguise himself with a fake smile. He hid everything, even from me. Completely. I couldn't feel him. Perhaps if I were to try, I could... But I've never done that, don't know quite how to. Usually everything's just there, in my face, in my head, inside my body, drowning me.

Why the hell would I want to try, anyway? I think it felt... good.

'In that case, yes. I would prefer not walking for a week. How do you intend to achieve this end?' --LucienCollapse )
19 August 2007 @ 01:55 am
... In which Isaac practices his trademark charm and has some problems keeping his fingers to himself. Just another day in Bleaker, really.

'Punks like him are the ones who probably did this.' --ArthurCollapse )