Lots of fucking proxies.
It seems that, now that I've shown Mr. S. that I'm no longer playing ball, he's sending as many as he possibly can to kill me. Of course, it hasn't worked, but it means I can't write as frequently. So, to those who have sent me messages, I will contact you, but right now, I'm on the run. The Glass Man is on the run.
3 shells left. I'm going to have to improvise more.
As a bonus for your patience, here's some personal info: I speak fluent french.
The Glass Man, Esquire