Still not dead

I apologize for it having been so long since my last entry. For those who may have been worried I'm not dead, local events of late have though kept me extremely busy.

You may recall my previous mention that Muskegon Lake was recently replaced by Ink and has become Camper territory. That attracted a bit of attention from what was allegedly an FBI agent, the name Nathan Adler however suggests he may have been SMSC. The upshot is due to "chemical contamination" fishing, swimming, and boating in the lake are expressly forbidden. The people living near by have not however been evacuated and I occasionally catch Camper trying to baptize a new member. Sometimes I manage to save them, sometimes I wind up with two corpses.

The water balloons aren't the worst though. The Slenderproxies we used to get around here were disorganized chumps. Nothing too difficult to deal with if you knew they existed in the first place and were experienced and careful. A couple weeks ago though I found two of the bigger players in my area dead. Garrotted and their masks shoved down their throats. After a few "discussions" with other local Slenderproxies it sounds like that one that rescued me from the Panopticon - Mame I think she called herself - didn't leave town. Instead she decided to organize the local Proxies. The two found dead were an example of what happens to those who wouldn't bow to her rule. They've taken over most of Muskegon Heights and marked their turf with Operator signs.

The reason they decided to mark their turf? To make sure the Timberwolves stay off it. Yeah, they died down after that government crack down but there's been a resurgence. This time from the biker side of their organization. Their motorcycle club is located on third street and they control the portions of the Heights that the Proxies don't. With the exception of Hackley Hospital. Three fucking guesses who has the hospital.

Campers, Slenderproxies, Timberwolves, and Oathbreakers. You'd think that was bad enough wouldn't you? So did I, until someone called the Wooden General moved in. Within a week Norton Shores was tagged with little spray paint drawings of stylized marionettes and his gang, the Wooden Soldiers, had kicked out any local competition. Everybody but Camper and the Oathbreakers seems to be recruiting from the local Crips, Bloods, and Latin Kings as well. I think most of them are kept in the dark about what they're really joining up with and only a select few are actually being made Servants of their respective Fear.

Word on the street is that, while they wouldn't mind my head on a platter, I'm not what they're here for. I have no clue what it is they are after and I hope no new players show up. Recent reports of overly aggressive seagulls at Pere Marquette park have me worried though.