The Handsome Goat

From Leonard:

It's been a long time--a few years, I think. We have met, but I seriously doubt you remember me. My name is Leonard. I am in charge of a major portion of the social engineering within Scritch City. That said, I have grown to be a sizable celebrity here.

My biggest and most recent investment is the Tailhole Club. It is a place where you spent more time than I think you want to remember. You were there. You were there under the control of not one... but two Baphomets. You played there. You were fucked. You were treated like a whore, a slut, and an all around societal outcast. But they still accepted you... and used you.

The thing that always springs out to me about you... is your submissive side. We've seen it a little with Dakota. Your book illustrator, CB634, seems to be highly aware of you and her (in reference to his most recent post.) But Dakota was the tip of the ice berg. You really have a very strong submissive streak.

The argument here is to get you somewhere where you will be happy. Don't knock happiness. You seek happiness in everything you do. Everybody does. Your story about your wife was clearly an attempt to seek happiness for yourself. Perhaps you have found some of it in Vixxy. The blogs concerning her have been very interesting to read. You are clearly dominating her, even encouraging her to pursue hypnosis as a hobby.

But I noticed something very peculiar when going over the security footage at the Railroad Club. You seemed to be acting in the service of your friend. You were also clearly dressed in the attire of a servant. It leads me to ask you a very serious question: Are you presently serving someone? Are you not the man in control? Everything appeared to be that way.

When Jason ordered that attack on you--the one with all the vehicles and the guns--you did everything you could to save him. You suffered so much, far more than you wanted... just to save one of billions within your multiverse. Did you create the multiverse only to be its servant? This is something I am very curious about, and I really hope you will explain it to me.

These actions of yours have formed the basis of my argument to accept you back in Scritch City as a permanent resident. I'm not angry with you. I sincerely think you will be happier here than wherever you seem to be living at the present time. That's it really.

That said, there is only one more person left on the council that has not yet gotten a chance to write you. After that, there will be a special writer, another communication from Jason, and I think there is a good chance after that in which you shall have your blog's password returned to you. We've frankly had our say. I hope to see you again, and this time perhaps we can develop some sort of friendship. That's all.

Naughty Foxy

From Officer Dakota:

Jeez. I have to write a thingy. This is something new. Aren't you that weirdo that was always wandering off? How ya been? Still wandering around? That what everyone seems to be saying.

Man, I am sorry I missed whatever the fuck that was uptown. I got the call way too late, but it probably would have been a blast putting a couple of slugs into ya... even if it wouldn't have meant a damn. Seems like everyone else has all the fun around here but me.

They say you look like a goat now. Got tired of having no fur? Not sure if I care to fuck an old man.

Actually I'm kinda just rambling right now. I don't even know what to tell you. "Get back here," I guess. Maybe we can put you or your friend on the run again, and we can look for new and creative ways to make the blood come out. Heard you bled quite a bit for a living person.

Whatever. I don't really care. Never really did. If you wanna come back, go ahead. I'll come by and see ya. Just promise me you'll cause a little trouble. I hate being bored.

Dragon Business

From Xavier:

Look at me being clever with the title of the blog. My name is Xavier, Buddy. You know me and I know you. I got you nice and set up in that back room when nobody else would take your drug-addled ass. Could have propped you up somewhere in the Pavilion, but let's all be honest, you don't look that great.

Real estate is the name of the game. I'm all about giving people a place to stay. Who says everything has to look like polished silver for it to be livable. Everyone has their place. Everyone's gotta live somewhere, and as long as they aren't pissing on the streets, we got ourselves a city!

Let's face it, Buddy, you had it real good in the Railroad Club. That place is ground zero of everything wonderful about this city. If you can stay five minutes within those walls then you got what it takes to make it big. And you, Buddy, were there day and night for nearly a whole year. Goddamn, but you should be begging Miss Silky to take you back, but you can't get over all that nonsense you got going on.

Yeah, I get it. Seems kind of high and mighty for me to talk to the guy called God this way, but hear me out, I'm a fucking self-made dragon in this city! I know a thing or two about what it takes to make it big. I've seen enough to know that you fucking walked out on the best life you ever had, and what did we get in return? A whole lot of broken buildings! Those were my buildings, Tippet!

Yeah, I gotta agree with Jason and the boys that you need to get your divine ass back where you ain't gonna be causing me any trouble. You'll be happier if you do. We all know you have the hedonism bug just like all of us. Don't claim to have any more morals than the rest of us. This town was build on every goddamn nasty idea you ever had. All of it, right here, Bud.

And if you really wanna know what it's like to be a real whore, I can still set you up in the Pavilion. That dark neon hallway calls to a lot of people. Why do I get the feeling it calls to you once in a while. No matter. I've had my day. Get your old ass back to Scritch City where you belong!

The Wolf

From Goshi:

Greetings, Buddy Tippet. I am Goshi. I am yet another who has not formerly met you. I was rather new to the ranks of the council when you were roaming about. I am, shall we say, in charge of tourism here in Scritch City. I arrange the orgies, as the joke is commonly made among the political representatives of Nevada.

Despite having our own unique currency and planted quite firmly within the landmass that is known as the United States, we have never suffered any ill financial set backs save for when unusual incidents we cannot control come barreling our way. We have to then find remarkable ways to make everything work out. I believe you are familiar with one such venture perpetrated by our dear Miss Silky and ♥Garry♥ in order to assist in dealing with your former nemesis. All very interesting, I'd say.

Aside from these occasional financial uncertainties, it is the tourism that keeps this unique and wonderful city-state alive. Humans and furries come here because they know they will be free to live out their greatest fantasies. We encourage it. Indeed, many of these fantasies are dangerous, but, if they were entirely safe, they would not have attracted as many people as they already have.

To the United States, Scritch City is an evil place where much blame has been placed. We are the sinners, for we live always in sin. But to the citizens of Scritch City, we are the saviors that free the slaves of a truly oppressive government. The only control we exert is in the name of keeping this place what it is without falling into the ways of those surrounding us. The council oppresses, but we do so in the name of our founding principles: Passion, Pride, and Indulgence. We are what we are, and we intend to keep it that way.

There's another thing that I have come to understand about this city. Please read this carefully so that you understand: You created it. Because of these three simple words, I cannot help but admire your good taste. Although it was created in a failed effort to gain something more akin to the deceptively innocent years of the U.S., I know that it was your true feelings coming out. You wanted Scritch City to be as it is, and I cannot help but give you great praise and thanks for making it happen.

As to the matter of you coming back and living with us, that is not for me to decide. I am not fully in agreement with the majority of the council. I will say that I would like to personally meet you and simply talk. I do not wish to trap you or do anything more than simply ask you a few questions about what inspired you to make this place. That's really all I have to say. Thank you for everything, Buddy Tippet.

The Golden Jackal

From Anput:

We haven't really met. Although I was a part of the council when you were here, I was busy trying to handle the affairs between Jason and Ra. I've asked my questions, and I suppose if they are wise enough to believe in you then there is no reason I shouldn't do likewise.

The thing about Scritch City is that it is extremely stable in what otherwise seems like chaos. It is built upon the very concept of liberty, moreso than the surrounding United States of America. Although many of our populous seem and often express ideals related to oppression, they are, as a matter of truth, freer than any other people on Earth. We make sure that they know this. It is the same liberty of will that comes from Ra.

Although I dislike the idea that Ra is a creation, your creation, I am being given little choice but to accept it. The idea of it makes me uncomfortable and often makes it difficult to make decisions. Despite this, the council and I do not like you as a god. We prefer Ra. Ra has given this city the strength to thrive; you have given us unnecessary trials, one of which was purely to protect your own existence from an interdimensional monstrosity called Ixus.

The latter creature seems to have been absorbed by a stronger creature, and Jason believes it happened because of your own personal actions. Need I remind you that Ixus is a problem for all people across all dimensions? You are taking extremely bad risks with us, and we have done nothing to deserve these things. I'm not trying to be hostile with you. I don't even really know you. These are simply my opinions based on what I have heard from the other council members.

As to the object of you returning to the Railroad Club with your wife, I understand how difficult it would be for you to make that decision. There is what seems to be a fallacy in the argument that a god can become beholden to one of his creations. But I do think that, despite your needlessly rash decisions, you are a fair man. You can exist within your creations as an avatar without overpowering yourself simply because you have the human spirit of a god controlling you.

And let us not forget that you once stayed with us before and were likewise beholden to Jason and even Ra. This did happen. They tell me you were quite relaxed much of the time and enjoyed a life of indulgence and pleasure. If it can happen once, it can surely happen again.

The idea of it is simply that you take a time away from your creations to relax. Think of it like an extended vacation. Perhaps the time can be used to make you better, and, once better, you can leave.

We of Scritch City are the children of Ra. We love liberty and the right to live our lives by our own desires. The U.S. hates us, but we are better for our differences. We of the council are not just the ones in control; we are believers in the cause. I urge you to return to us to once more experience this wonderful place which you seem to have created to begin with. And for you to have created it at all must mean something to you deep down in your immortal heart.

That's all I have to say, Buddy Tippet. I hope you read this carefully and understand the things I am trying to say. I am sorry that I never got a chance to meet you in person.

[For reference, Buddy, I am a seven-foot-tall female jackal with gold around my eyes. How do you look at the moment?]

That Angry Dragon

From Jason:

I do find it queer that you have been ignoring your two commenters. We haven't been blocking your ability to reply to them. I'm curious as to why you've been focusing entirely on us. One of them, a Shawn O' Toole, seems to, in the past, have been rather important to you. His last post was rather defiant and differed a bit from his earlier posts. Sounds like he might be role playing a little. Would you care to tell me what his real relationship to you is?

---

From Ryoko:

God, I'm almost sad we even have to deal with you like this. You just had to show that ugly face here again. Although it didn't quite look like that last time I saw you. Why an old goat? Why not just be a human like you were before?

I'm not gonna mince words with you: I really just fucking hate everything about you. I admit to being curious at first. You were weird, and I kinda like weird. But goddamn it, Buddy, you've given this city hell!

I don't even understand half of the story. I keep asking and asking one question after another about who the fuck God is, and why the fuck does this city had to be constantly plagued with a steady stream of stupid. A giant fucking mouse?! Are you fucking serious?! DID YOU GET BORED?!

If I had it my way, I'd never let you back in here, but I'm pretty much outvoted. Do you even remember me? You probably don't even know me by name, do you? Heck. you were pretty out of it the one time I walked in on you anyhow. What am I, Buddy? Male or female? Does the name clue you in? Are you smart? Here's the answer: both. I'm a mean and angry dragon shemale, and I'm constantly infuriated by your very existence.

I know I'm supposed to support the council, but I kinda hope you just go off and fuck yourself. Leave Scritch City alone. Leave all of us alone. Let us run this place without any interference. Fuck off.

---

From Miss Silky:

She had a right to say what she wanted, Buddy. That said, the majority of the council wants you back in the Railroad Club. She'll do you no harm if you decide to do so. Ryoko is never not cranky. If you saw the package she carries round with her, you'd understand why. At the very least, I thought that might cheer you up a little. Know what I mean, darling?

Remember Me?

From Sever:

It's been a long time, Buddy. You used to tell me a lot of things, and I remember all of them. You remember this dragon bitch? Hope you haven't tried to forget me. It would make me pretty sad since we really got along so well.

You should know something. I'm the reason you lost your blog. You told me the password way back in that room in the Railroad Club. You told me a lot of things, Buddy. You told me a lot of important things. In fact, I am not fully convinced you know all the things you told me. You were really out of it.

Jason and the council are letting me say a few things to you in this blog, so I hope you'll pay close attention. You don't have to do anything for me, but I would advise you to try and be less defiant this time around. You're talking to someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

You once told me that you were weak. You were frightened of the world you created and that it was going to squash you one day. You explained that you were only an avatar, but you knew that the one controlling you felt the same way. I spoke with him through you. I even talked to Vox one time. He was extremely charming. He's a lot like me in a way.

I want you to know that I believe in the you that once lived here. I believe that he still exists, and he's afraid of himself and the world that he created--the world that is reaching back out to him with rage. Our rage is reflective of the fear you have for your own life. You're lost. You have created Gods to do half of the work for you... and they create demons like me to regulate and manage their kingdom.

I'm thinking about you, Buddy. I'm thinking about those times where we engaged in such filthy activities. Messy activities. Painful activities. We were rotten together. We died and decayed together. You stopped caring and simply let the creature of your own making utterly control you. You loved it. You didn't want it to stop. But you got scared and ran the fuck away from me.

You may be the God of the multiverse, but you once gave yourself to Ra through me... and you fucking loved it. I know you loved it. I remember you even saying it. You cried, Buddy. You cried that you wanted all this to be real. And I cradled your head, looked you in the eyes, and I called you my pathetic, little baby. And whatever you call yourself these days, you can only ever be what you were at the lowest moment in your life.

I've read the comments of your two friends. They really believe in you. They seem to think that you are strong because you are God. And you are God. But you're too tempted by your own creations to properly deal with your own reality. You want to come back here and let your creation rule over you. You want Ra. You want me. And no matter how many defiant things you write down in the comments, that will not change the truth about who you are.

We're not giving your blog back until everyone on the counsil has had their say. And you're going to read their words. You're going to read them... and remember exactly who you were... and who you still are.

See you later, Buddy.