Don't hate us for our Hiatus.

And so, here we are again, the cruelest month. I once knew a girl named April, who wasn't cruel at all. She was so nice, in fact. Ahhh, sweet April and the inconsistencies of youth wasted on the way by.

But getting back to cruel ... as I'm sure you are all aware now, the capital gains never materialized on my end. The two sent up I just couldn't elevate to that exalted stage. Alas, the monkey grows restless and unsure. Indeed ... who can touch the monkey anymore? Perhaps the irrepressible (or is that detestible?) Terrnace want to blame it on the system of a downer. Did I spell detestible correctly, may be the more important point to be bandied about. Alas. If I may say so, "the system" has worked in regards to such superlative CG's as, most recently, AIMS AND OBJECTIVES OF THE AMERICAN CRIBBAGE CONGRESS and YEAR OF OUR LORD'S FAVOR just fine, thangyouverymuch. So I shan't be changing or overhauling anything [except, maybe, my adult diaper when I stand front row at a Justin Beiber concert] in the near future. Some crowd surfing, maybe.

Oy vay, it's been a quarter, eh? Lalo seems to have left the building. I'm getting some readings on the long-vanished H3K over the vintage Defender console that has miraculously materialized in the Terminal in place of dear Lalo's desk. The implications are puzzling and somewhat disturbing. It makes me feel like one of the Home Erecti before the planar delineations of the obelisk in Kubrick's 2001. I still do not grok when or if I'll have a bone to throw, and what such an obvious homage will segue to. Could Terrnace be a prophet of change, then, or just another faux usurper to the throne?

Time will tell, mein froinds. As it always does. Meanwhile, TQR shan't dally in its cups or down time, either. Follow @tqrstories at twitter for updates on the current state of affairs and some tasty tidbits from the vaults and the back channels, dare I mention the catacombs where Boligard saunters down the game trails of his dark fictive fancy? Which begs a question. Dunbar? Yeah. What exactly do you mean by dark fiction? And with that, I must bid you all adieu for now. I have a lock to pick about a man. Wherefore art thou Terrnace? Good night, sweet blintz.