The Ravenblack Grimoire

I was reminded I used to own this rag. And then I was similarly reminded that hell I still held the keys to the printing press, the building, the editing software and being the opportunistic bitch that I am I’ve decided to take it back over.

Yes, take it back over. I’m bored.

I’m bored of nothing happening and I’m bored of no one reporting what is going on in the city that can write worth a shit. I can write. I have an opinion and I realise that I have the keys to a newspaper I can use to spam the city with my errant opinion.

Well, and hopefully convince some people to write as well. But that isn’t really high on my ‘to do’.

So Ravenblack has been introduced of a penal system. Funny the word itself should evoke such phallic imagery and it is little wonder God Raven in his infinite (if odd times quirky) wisdom thought it appropriate to introduce this form of incarceration.

Being that God Raven gets to arbitrarily decide who does and does not get themselves thrown into the locker it is hardly likely that a burgeoning system of formal government, a policing of laws hereto unknown is suddenly going to sprout out of this new repercussion.

But it does pose a rather pointed question to our city. What happens when he throws you in the locker? What is the penalty involved? How the hell do you avoid the embarrassment of, god forbid, the black and white striped PJ's you're forced to wear?

It’s no mean feat to piss off a vampire so badly that they’re willing to come off some serious amounts of dosh to see you dead. These ones, apparently did.

What is wrong with the city anyway. Why can’t you just kill your own freaking vampires. Weak ass, that’s what I say.

Yes, there is a birth, deaths, marriages section to this rag. But I’m not interested enough to try and post them all. HOWEVER, if you want to post one you feel requires honourable mention, then by all means feel free.

I’m only going to post the ones I feel are interesting enough to comment on. The rest are just filler fodder for other rags bored bastards to stare at while drool dribbles out of their mouths.

Dead and Buried is the new black. Or the old black or like the sad ass grey black everyone wears because some sick rick told them it was the new black. The sheep.

It’s not the new black at all. It’s just sad and yet another sad ass has raised his head up from the depths of buried-dom to announce his burgeoning presence to the city. Again. Again.

But lets face it. We’ve all missed this particular brand of sad ass. The city was a depressing, more common place place without the pert gentlemen we all fondly remember with his wise cracks, his duelling supremacy and grandiose plans that never came to anything.