Here are my thoughts on what should happen after Innocent Shilo leaves the Genetic Opera...keep in mind I'm a total Newbie...Cheers

Shilos Journal:

So I finally get to go out and what happens? My father is unmasked as a dreaded Repo Man, Nathan Wallace will forever be remembered as a murderer, I think my decision
to no longer go by my last name is a good one; it worked for those ancient singers in the 20th century right? The one who mocked that Virgin from the Bible and who was that one guy....Stung? mm it was something to do with a bug that's all I remember. So yea not only that, which will so give me a reputation on the street which will now be my stomping grounds, but I find out he murdered my mother AND poisoned me. Great what a wonderful night, at least I don't have to take those nasty tasting pills anymore, maybe eventually my hair will grow back too. I had Rotti's driver take me back to my tomb, of course I mean my home. And it is MY house now isn't it? Odd I guess I don't have to sneak around anymore I still might use the old tunnels though, they feel more like home than the sitting room does. I'll have to get some help making it seem homier. First things first, time to look up a friend; I wonder where he is right now?

Two days after the Opera News Headline:

Amber Sweet takes over GeneCo. Will she use all its profits for "cutting edge" services?

Tagline reference: Zydrate Addiction meetings held every Thursday

Walking around this city is a guessing game of what's in that puddle? I purposely wear the highest boots I can manage to walk in without breaking an ankle. I still don't know how Amber walks around in those tiny stiletto heels without falling on her face, to bad she wouldn't fall and poke a hole in that vacant head of hers....the added air flow might just circulate any last decaying brain cell into triggering. Right, since she had to pick her face up off of the auditorium floor she's been a lot less public, maybe actually going through her fathers' papers and doing real business. Who knows? Not that I care. She's not who I'm searching for anyway. I'm looking for GraveRobber, to ask his opinion, maybe ask him if he wants some company. After all out of my small circle of acquaintances he's still alive. My mother died the night of my birth, my Godmother was killed by Rotti (even though she pulled out her own eyes, he's the one that impaled her on the rode iron fence), my father was killed by Rotti, and Rotti himself was killed by an illness that ate at him.

Oddly prophetic, he was a cancer to those in his life; he infected his children with his own evil. Not that I don't blame them for their own stupidity but really, look at what they had for an example. I had only my father, the part of him that he allowed me to see in my sterile and hospital light bedroom, and later when he laid covered in blood in my arms letting me feel his love for the first, truest, and last time.

I turn down a dark cloaked alley. It's almost time for the Zydrate Addicts Support group to be finished, I assume GraveRobber will be there he gets his best sales after meetings. There's nothing like longingly talking about a drug to make one want to buy it as soon as you see it. I think its sick and horrible of him but even I laugh at the lengths an addict with go to get their fix. One time I saw a beautiful blue haired girl crawling around on her hands and knees barking like a dog to get her fix. GraveRobbers convoluted logic makes me laugh and laughter is in short supply for me....so I'll get MY fix anywhere I can. Hm I wonder who is a worse addict.

My musings are stopped by the sound of raspy laughter and a sickening mewing sound. Ugh, I believe I found him. He can cause women make all sorts of sounds, so I've been told...shutter. I back up so that I'm in the deepest shadow of the alley and let him conclude his business. He's standing across the street talking with some simpering addict whose running her long talon like fingernails up and down his jacket. Ick, I'll have to
offer him some cloth spray to take out the scent of whatever is under those ugly claws. They are at least 2 inches long and curl inward a little, painted red with tiny jewels on them. The rest of her is pretty trashy, her hair looks like it hasn't been washed or combed in a year and is hanging around her face in a puffy halo of tangles. Looking at her face I wonder if her nails are the reason that her makeup is so thick and clashes. I would say that Clash would be my nickname for her. She's wearing a lime green fur coat with purple spots, a black corset that shows off her chest replacement scars, and neon blue leggings topped off with Hot Pink 4 inch Heels that I'm sure Amber would be envious of, snicker, that tells you about Ambers personal style (or lack there of).Apparently my snickering caught GraveRobbers attention because he looks up from his hood eyed client and gave me a sheepish grin. I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. Waiting for him is going to be a huge past time I'm betting.

I lean against the brick wall and study my own black painted fingernails. Flawless as usual, when you are locked up as much as I used to be you get to be pretty perfect at small vain tasks like nail painting and boot lacing. I smile at the though I might not have a lot of life experiences but at least I still have all of my original organs. I hear GraveRobber smother a chuckle in my direction and then the tell tale swoosh of a certain mechanical object injecting glowing blue heaven into Clashes "anatomy". She moans so low even I blush and I hear GraveRobbers heavy footsteps coming up to me. When I open my eyes he's standing in front of me with a sly smirk on his face. "Hey kid. I was wondering when I would get graced with your presence again." I'm about to reply when I hear a boom behind him, we both look in the direction of the noise. Oppsie, Clash is face first in a deep puddle, she's bubbling nicely.

I roll my eyes and growl, "Lets get out of here. You did your job." I pull on his hand and drag him behind me ignoring the fact that he's laughing at me. I'll get him back for that later.