[Video]

[prophesiedone]

I'm not good at this coding business, so I will leave that to those of you who have the time and patience. [He could make time, but can you imagine how much he fidgets? It's like trying to teach a puppy a new trick.]

If you need what I received, just ask below or send me a message to my inbox.

[Also coffee. He has coffee. This is a bad idea.]

Why is everything pumpkin flavored? I'm not really complaining except...

It might get old? After awhile?

text } from "Images May Disturb You", the blog of Georgia Mason, entry #005

[choosetruth]

I'm not the first person to wonder who sent these mystery texts. But I'd like to pose a new question: why? And why, specifically, were they sent in this format?

It's not a secure way to communicate a secret. It's become quickly apparent that there are several different codes and you need all of them to solve the message, which means working together, which means making a lot of noise. While it's possible that non-imPorts would miss the network chatter, the fact remains that far too many people know to keep this anything resembling a secret, even if there had been any indication that the sender wanted that.

So are they trying just to communicate with us? Why use the cipher at all then? It certainly would have been easier to read if they just sent us a clear message. Is this all just a game? And that's not getting into how unsettling it is that this individual has access to everyone's contact information.

Keep your eyes open. I may not know the ulterior motives behind this move, but I guarantee it exists.

I don't have answers yet. Just more questions. Be careful, everyone.

[Video]

[detectivedwloki]

If you have some kind of healing power, I have a couple of questions.

What can you heal and are there any side effects, to yourself or to others?

⛧ 001; video

[contactsports]

[ The sounds of a deli can be heard in the background: general chatter, the ding of the cash register, the sounds of chairs scraping linoleum. The face in the picture is that of Zelda Spellman, a middle-aged looking woman, her chin held high and the fine black lace of her collar only just visible at the bottom of the frame. Her perfectly curled red hair is held up underneath a netted cap. ]

The jobs we are assigned upon our arrival here are abhorrent. I'm far too overqualified for this insulting position and I demand to speak to whichever buffoon thought this would be at all humorous. [ Somebody dings the bell at the register on camera four times in quick succession, and Zelda's gaze flashes away from the camera for a moment. ] Ring that bell again and instead of prosciutto, it will be your tonuge on the menu tonight!

[ The ringing stops, at least for a moment. ] Now, where was I? Oh, yes, employment. How does one procure something less distasteful? Particularly, not something in foodservice?

[ Her gloved hand raises into the frame, exposing a cigarette ring holder on her hand. She takes a drag from the half-smoked cigarette.

Zelda! I told you, no smoking in the kitchen! ]

I'm wearing gloves, aren't I? [ She hollars back at the manager, her forehead knitting in irritation. ] Please, in Satan's name, someone get me out of this Heaven-hole.