I didn't want to write this.

Then again, I don't want to do a lot of things. Like, you know, hanging out with the Monster Squad and fighting for the very existence of reality. But I do it anyway.

And so here's an entry.

I try to keep at least vaguely up to date on the goings on of other Cells when I can. And a lot of the time, I can at least say “wow, that place sounds fucked up, I'm glad the Cavalry has their shit together.”

And after Saturday night? I can't say that. And I know people outside of Houston read this blog (Hi F13!) so now I'm pretty much telling them “yeah, well, shit is kinda fucked.”

The silver lining (I'm feeling optimistic because I'm only two beers in) is, as fucked up as things were on Saturday, at least it was a kind of low-scale fuckup. Nobody's dead, at least. Seriously, I'm trying to be nice here. That's about the best I can say about it.

First away team went off after the vampire-baby of a former cell member (some vampire who died before I even signed up, which says something). Long story short, things went to shit. The vampire baby guy (who's actually a grown man. Vampire, whatever) got shot in the head by a sniper, and then there was the kind of clusterfuck that resulted in some of our people shooting each other. On purpose. Yep. Second away team fared better, I guess? Nobody got shot, but from what I've gathered, it was still fucked. Not as fucked as the first one, but still. I hear it was bad.

And y'know what? As Cell Leader, ultimately, this kind of shit was my fault, one way or another. See, I've made a horrible, horrible mistake.

I assumed you guys were FUCKING PROFESSIONALS.

Because, you know, there are horrible, unknowing monsters from another dimension clamoring to eat our (literally) goddamned souls, and yet half of you like to play around like this is a fucking game. Some of you? Some of you I can (and do) trust and respect to get the job done. But when the first thing I hear out of a new werewolf recruit's mouth is “I WANT TO EAT YOUR FACE,” it's not exactly encouraging. Shit, there are cells out there that would've put someone down on the spot for that kind of talk. I'm still vaguely wondering if I should've gone for the silver bullets anyway.

As much as I'd just love to run away and hide, or let a bunch of you idiots kill each other, I can't do that. Because for every one of you that dies, the Truth gets stronger, and that's a step closer I get to a horrible otherworldly oblivion that I really, really don't want to know.

Yes, I know, I'm a puny mortal. Yes, I know, I'm pretty much clueless when it comes to your spirit magic bullshit. But you know what? Over these years, I've gone from a terrified mortal with a press pass to a slightly less terrified mortal with a press pass and a shotgun, and goddamit if I haven't actually DONE SHIT. You wouldn't have made me Cell Leader otherwise. Unless you voted for me as a joke, in which case, fuck you.

I'm gonna make lemonade out of these fucking lemons, and then I'm pouring in a shit-ton of vodka. If you can't pull your head out of your fuzzy supernatural ass and treat me with some goddamned respect, you can get the fuck out of Houston now and go fight the Truth in some shithole like Brussels. Oh wait, Brussels (wherever that was) got Quarantined and doesn't exist anymore. OOPS. I wonder if their cell had to deal with a bunch of petty infighting bullshit.

 I want all of you to sit down and think of just what you've done for the Accord lately. (Except for Dr. Watts, because I don't have the time to sit down and listen to his latest heroic ballad. Not that there's anything wrong with viking ballads or whatever, but I'm fresh out of mead). I'm not saying you have to go out and kill abominations- but we're going to need each and every one of you to be an asset to the Accord, whether it's as a fighter, a healer, an investigator, a resource guy, whatever. If you can't think of a simple sentence to say how you help the Accord, fix that shit.

I don't expect you to be military-level spit-polish drill sergeant, but I expect you to act like fucking adults who are here to do a goddamn job. So, I'm laying out some general rules on how we do Missions and shit.

Check it:

NEW GUY'S RULES ON HOW NOT TO BE A FUCK UP

1. LISTEN TO WHOEVER'S IN CHARGE

Each mission will have a designated Away Team Leader, as appointed by myself, or whoever I put in charge of the evening in the event that I can't make it. Whoever's in charge of a given mission will likely vary, depending on who's around, who has experience, etc. Volunteering is encouraged. Hell, I'll probably wind up leading some of these myself. Either way, the Away Team Leader will be the one responsible for the mission. What they say, goes. If you have a problem with how a mission goes, bring it to my attention, and we'll deal with that shit when you get back to the Citadel. Either way, you better not go off fucking half-cocked just because you think your awesome mojo bullshit can solve all problems ever.

2. HAVE A ROSTER

Just as the Away Team Leader has to be approved by me (or whoever I leave in charge), so's the roster. Because SOME of you can't get along for whatever reasons, I'm gonna start separating you. On top of that, this is a good way to make sure that the most qualified people go on a given mission. Like, if the mission statement is “We're going to Hell to punch some ghosts,” then I personally would be woefully unqualified to lead, or even to go on such a mission myself, because of my puny mortalness and lack of ghost-punching skills. It's usually good to at least bring one person who can fight and one healer on a given mission, just in case. Sometimes you even luck out and your fighter/healer is the same guy. But at least know what everyone's niche is before you go do a thing.

3. HAVE A PLAN

I know nothing ever goes to plan, but seriously. At least figure out what the primary goal of an encounter is. Preferably in a one-sentence statement. “We're going to investigate this creepy house,” or “we're going to kill this Servant,” or whatever. If you've got more in-depth ideas, great. Run them by me. But “let's do whatever” is not a plan.

4. DON'T BE AN ASSHOLE

If your mission goes well, you may get your bloodstained claws on a creepy Truthy artifact, or a Servant prisoner, or even some poor bastard who's gotten caught up in the crossfire. In which case, I'm laying out the following guidelines:

Creepy ass artifacts and Black Metal cubes and other weird objects go in the Vault, where Jacque can poke them with his science stick.

Servant prisoners are to be kept in the brig at the Secondary Citadel, until an interrogation team can question them. Based on availability, some combination of Apophis, Dr. Jones, Sasha, or Penny should be our go-to people for that.

We should offer refuge to any Believers caught in the crossfire- but if they don't want to take it, let them the fuck go. Immediately beating the shit out of someone 'for their own good,' doesn't do much to make us friends. However, I know some of you can be very persuasive, so this is definitely something that our talkers can do. Once we have them tucked away somewhere, let me know, and I will interview them personally. If they're a Servant, I'll know. And if they're not, hopefully I'll be able to convince them to help us.

Hope you read that, because I may quiz you on this shit later. Of course, I'm sure some of you are nitpicking and finding loopholes already, but I'm just trying to lay out some simple guidelines that I wish I didn't have to.

We can do better than this, Houston. We're going to have to do better than this. If just one wizard, vampire, werewolf, or any other singular supernatural thing could've defeated the Truth, we wouldn't need the Accord. But as it is, we're all in this together, and it'd be really fucking nice if we could act like it. I know for certain I can't fight the Truth all by myself, so I'm counting on the lot of you to get on board with me so we can theoretically, someday, piss on the Truth's proverbial grave and then bugger off so we never see each other again.

Don't fuck this up.