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Topic: Journal of the Officer  (Read 17530 times)

Corosive

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Journal of the Officer
« on: April 24, 2016, 02:39:33 am »
Journal of the Officer

2250. April. 22:34. Officer logging daily duties then signing out. Stop. Personal log. Cira’s birthday is tomorrow. Stop. Please remind me never to forget about her again. My mind has been wandering off more than usual, and I am always cold.

2250. April. 12:54. The air is getting stale. Overseer requested new filters installed on the vents. However, for some reason we are running low. Robobrain, and Thomas will have to improvise in the near future. We are not prepared for shortage. It is odd, how our resources keep dwindling. Stop. Officer logging daily duties. Overseer, is our vault dying?

2251. January. 06:00. I’m having nightmares, and I can barely breath. Thomas says it’s the dust in the air, but I don’t know if that’s a good enough answer. Is my home dying? I can’t remember the last time I was really happy. I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks, and I completely forgot Cira’s birthday again. We haven’t spoken in a few days either. Officer logging daily duties. Personal log. What is out there?

2251. March. 14:45. Thomas is dead. The Overseer had me shoot him until he was dead. I fear that if this goes on I won't have any friends left. What is going on down here? How long can we keep this place up? Officer logging daily duties. Personal log. I miss you, Thomas.

2252. March. 04:40. Logging computal security breach. This morning our systems were affected by some sort of glitch. A list of passwords and logins were suddenly sent off to the surface... Somewhere. The mainframe was unable to trace the recipient, but it was sent to the United States. Impossible. Unless there is life on the surface...

2252. March. 23:09. Logging possible surface hazard. After midnight there was a loud banging sound coming from the other end of the surface doors. Security was unable to determine the cause of the disturbance. If there is life out there will it be friendly?

2253. September. 00:04. Logging status update. Vault future facing catastrophic eventual destruction. Resources and materials are depleting at an alarming rate. Vault is unable to sustain daily agriculture or food production. Highly recommend begin exploring surface.

2254. January. 00:00. Doomsday. Our vault doors opened on their own today at exactly midnight. It is the same day that our resources completely ran out, and most of our equipment stopped working. All this of course is supposed to be impossible! Our systems were meant to last forever! We had a completely self-sustaining system here! Nothing was supposed to go wrong! And now they're sending us out in droves!! The Overseer is sending me out next! In less than a few hours I’ll be cast out of my vault, and thrown into the god forsaken wasteland! Officer signing out.

This will be my last entry. God help us all. Cira! I'm so sorry! I've always been a horrible friend! I'm so sorry! Please God! Be good to her! Please! She's so innocent! She doesn't deserve to be thrown out to the wolves!
« Last Edit: September 29, 2016, 11:07:46 pm by Corosive »

PrebaTHC

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #1 on: April 24, 2016, 08:35:22 am »
2254 January 00:00 wipe confirmed ?
_________________00___________________...
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____0__________000000___________0_____...
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_____0000______000000__________00_____...
_____000000____0000000_____00000______...
__0_____0000000_000000_00000000___0___...

Corosive

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #2 on: April 24, 2016, 11:28:07 pm »
Nah, a bit later.

EDIT: This isn't "fan art".
« Last Edit: April 25, 2016, 08:13:14 pm by Corosive »

borkolok

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #3 on: April 26, 2016, 08:56:31 pm »
nice read

Henry

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #4 on: April 27, 2016, 12:40:39 am »
Personal Log

AD2252 Feb: Been out here so long, smelling this bad has finally become normal to me. I will never give up looking for the GECK. There has to be one somewhere. In a vault. Just keep looking. Overheard those guys laughing about a fresh batch of vault login credentials. It sure helps to have this work in the bar, but are there any good-guys left?

AD2252 March: Whoah, how many feds are here now? They don't need to wear the uniform - i know 'em when i smell 'em. Too many to be a test. These guys are up to something. Gotta be careful. They won't spot me as long as they keep thinking i'm just the happy beer brewer. Stay smiley. Gotta follow 'em tonight though - if they found a fresh vault, it could have a GECK. My one big goal! I can't get it, but at least i could track it.

AD2252 March: Jackpot! Those guys DID find a vault! They set up camp by the big door. Guess that delayed 'em for a bit. Good. Now just stay low. Stay quiet. And watch 'em. If they get in, i'm sure it will be loud, and if they find any special items, i'll get one brief chance to detect that in their movements. Maybe. No snoring tonight...

Supplemental, same night: Dear God, please help whoever is inside to be strong. And if you're in there, people, don't trust anyone out here, for cryin' out loud. Stay back from the door, because they brought explosives. Gotta be expensive. I rather hope the door holds. I might have to change positions here too - i noticed a sentry detail scouting the camp's perimeter. Don't want any more risk than this already is. Ding-dang sniper rifle was hard to get.

AD2252 May: Ha! They must be so disappointed. Aw. Have to go victimize someone else this time. Bastards. The big door would not budge. Good for you guys inside. Feds gonna camp this place though for a year i bet until they figure a way in. Okay, this is my life now, watching a vault.

AD2253 Summer: Sorry for not writin' more. Been keeping things even. I make it out to the vault every couple weeks just to see if that big door has moved. It hasn't. I wonder...maybe they aren't even alive in there? A grizzly scene. Think about Christmas to get that out of my head. It's gotta open some day. I hope i don't miss it. Glad the feds left.

AD2254 Jan: I knew it! I missed it! That door is open! I can't even believe it! Got bored, snuck up here in the middle of the night. Stupid thing to do. I know better than this. Too much risk. Whatever. Things attack me all the time - i always live through it now. Guess this is what getting careless is like. Anyway, glad i came because at least now i know - that vault is open now. Does anyone know about this yet? Seems like the feds would be swarming the place if they knew. Seems like i'd see someone around the entrance if it was opened by the dwellers. Nothing. Nobody. Dead black inside. Maybe it opened on a timer. What are the chances someone could run in there, check it, loot anything and get out? Should i try it?
 
« Last Edit: April 27, 2016, 12:45:15 am by Henry »

Corosive

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #5 on: April 27, 2016, 12:47:23 am »
Amazing job! Please guys! Post your own version of a "personal log" placed before January 2254! Let's see what we can come up with!

2254 is a very special year. VERY SPECIAL year. The entire world changed in 2254.

http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Timeline#2254

What if you had actually spent your entire life underground, not knowing of the outside world, and one day you were forced to just pick up and leave?
« Last Edit: April 27, 2016, 01:20:18 am by Corosive »

Henry

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #6 on: May 28, 2016, 11:38:37 pm »
Team Alpha, Explorer's Log
Today was a Special day. I finally found what I was looking for all these years, one of the big abandoned military bunkers some say don't even exist. It was a tough challenge, as ecxpected, but I call it a win.

I began this personal quest as a specialized encounter finder. The big goal was always the abandoned military bunker, manned by deadly robots, because very special items were rumored to be in there. And I was taught all of the skills needed: how to fix mechanical things, how to fix computer tech, how to pick locks, even how to make and use bombs. I was fast on my feet too, exploring the whole map every day. Like a true Scout, I retained detailed map info and knew where to find what and who. I was no sniper, but could use a shotgun just fine. And that's just what I would need some day when I found this special place. Robots hate EMP damage, and I knew how to make EMP shotgun shells.

I had to be a patient guy though. It took a long time to build a 3-man team of combat companions first. I screened so many, dismissing most who just did not make the grade. After a while though, my persistence paid off. I'm up to 3 out of 4. All 3 are as agile as they get, and now with all this training and practice, they're little tanks ready for assignment.

No complaints about the time either. During their training, I found a Vertibird! Found a Little Shelter with Hardended Power Armor too, plus a Vindicator minigun, a Pulse Rifle, an old medical clinic, a crashed Nuka Cola truck, a forgotten warehouse full of handy nick-nacks, and more.

But today...today was the big score: the military bunker, and it was manned by killer robots. I set up a tent there and flew in some supplies. Assembled the team, geared them with the best Combat Armor and Pancor Jackhammers, then distributed EMP shells to them all. We started our approach...

The place was deadly. I did not expect to lose so much hair. The control terminal was tricky, but I got the lights on which apparently brought the whole place to life. A Mr Handy defense-bot powered up and the Companion team killed it before I could say anything. The other doors were solid, locked tight. Fine, on to level 2. But first, whoa, I felt like I was melting. We retreated back to the staging tent, and I had to leave the team there while I found a doctor. The doc in Junktown was available, glad to say. Fixed me up quick and cheap. Back to the tent. I hope the basement is rad-free.

Elevator is working now, so we hit level 2. I stationed the team near the elevator. Got past the energy door, and into the main "hallway of death", killed one sentry bot and led the other robots back within range of the team. The companions cleaned up! Calmed down, healed everyone and pressed on...

Back into the main hallway, moved the team up and stationed them there. Suddenly a door opened and everyone was attacked by multiple targets. One companion went down, and so did I! I was knocked unconscious but the rest of the team took care of business. When I woke up, the hallway was calm again. We drug Suzy out of there. She'll need some time, but Simon and Mina were still good to go, and now I was back to full strength too. Okay, what else...

Explored the rest of level 2, and the team was doing well. Then we really got hit hard. I mean we were all clobbered. Guess we were getting too close to something important. Had to regroup and reassemble back at the tent. Suzy was back on her feet by then, thank God. Everyone was feeling frosty again and ready to finish the job.

Back to level 2. Made 'em pay. It was like the whole team went into overdrive. We took down all the remaining targets without taking hardly a scratch. Cut our way to the admin office. Here's where my Lockpick skills were tested. I passed. I kept finding these color-coded key cards too, and this last one must be the best one, being locked up like this.

One more room down the main hall. Don't touch it. I have a bad feeling about that room. First let's see if this key card gets us into those rooms back on level 1. I saw a computer down here with info about a super robot called Nemezis. Logged out when I saw that. Is that what's in that room at the end of the hall? I bet it is. Maybe we'll come back.

Think strategy. What we did on level 2 worked. Let's stick to the plan. Station the team down here, and I'll get these doors open. I'll pull whatever is in there down the hall within range of the team. That way we'll have 4 guns shooting targets, not just 1.

Worked like a charm, despite the fact that 2 sentry bots were ready in there with dual miniguns, and two more just like them in each room! What a fight. I love it when a plan comes together.

Wow look at all the ammo crates. What's this...Power Armor! And some sort of energy pistol I've never seen before - looks like it came out of a classic sci-fi series from the 1960s! Ha-ha, what a day. Ahhh yes, hello mister wall safe...

And the clouds parted and there was light, and it shown down upon my new Strength implant. Let's get this stuff out of here before someone else shows up.

Okay, now let's see about that big toughie in the basement. I bet he's hiding something too...

-Captain Felix Uhnger
« Last Edit: May 30, 2016, 05:10:29 pm by Henry »

Mad Matt

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #7 on: May 29, 2016, 01:39:13 am »
Fuckin' awesome :O
GUN FOR HIRE


Henry

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #8 on: September 01, 2017, 02:03:32 am »
And then it came to pass. That day people all secretly feared, deep down. Somehow we all knew it would happen...again...since it had happened before. And more than once. But the thought of it was just too terrifying for most, and these were tough times.

They'd always been tough times. So many had tried to climb up and get out of this trench of a life we inherited. But truth is, we're all stuck here. Together. So with tough times to deal with non-stop every day...yeah people just didn't want to think about it. They'd shove it down, into somewhere deeper, and pretend it's not a priority.

But then it happened. I got a birds eye view of it too. I managed to climb up to some high point, and dig in. Was a heart-pounder getting all these supplies up here, but worth it. So i sat and waited. Watched for it every day. I knew it would come fast, but maybe...maybe i'd see it first.

And i did! Before it reached us, i saw it high in the sky way off in the distance. At first, just looked like any serious thunderstorm. Very dark. Scary lookin'. But as it drew nearer, it's width took over the horizon from left to right, and then it breached the range tops. In ALL directions! It was a dark sky like night time but right in the middle of the day. No sun. I could hear the screams in the valley from all the way up here. It really shook me. Turned my head and could see sparks. What were those from? Some big electrical problem somewhere. Then came the wind. Everyone had to know, this was it. It wasn't only me. My vantage point was one of the best, but surely everyone knew...this was it.

The wind howled like some giant forest monster, and then the dust hit. I watched it whirl around in the valleys first, but took cover once i saw it was climbing up my mountain! It was like a sand-blaster, scouring everything off of every surface. Yep, this was another one of those storms.

And it had been predicted too. I met a monk in Hub who told about it. Somehow he knew some history of these things, and he said this next one would be the biggest one. He called it...the storm to end all storms! I never could get him to explain exactly what that meant, but sure sounded ominous. I'd meet hermits sometimes too, and they'd always know about it. "Yep", they'd say, it's coming! Better be ready, if you know how" and they'd walk off before explaining how. Is that how all religious people are? Reference dire things and leave you hanging?

It doesn't matter now much anyway. The storm has destroyed my house. I mean, the house is gone. I write this from the cellar. So glad i dug this out of the rock. What else was i going to do with my time while i waited? If i hadn't, the dust would have pulverized me anyway, and the wind would have whisked me away from this mountain. I bet my body would have been ripped limb from limb by now and cast to the four corners of the map. Those poor people below. I wonder what I'll find down there...if i ever get out of this.

Annabella

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #9 on: September 01, 2017, 02:12:48 am »
Diary of Annabella, last survivor of The Last Light's Crisis Response Operators

Based on true events during the last hour before the wipe of Season Two

I saw myself die. Yet, there are worse fates than death. I was there when the madness took hold. I remember...what they call the "Wipe". Everyone knew it was coming. You could smell the fear. The dogs cowered under the wagons, the brahmin huddled in the pens. The skies darkened, I knew what was coming. I checked my Geiger counter. This wasn't any ordinary dust storm.

I was on my feet in an instant. I sprinted to the depot...my heart raced to the point of nearly bursting. I dusted off my Desert Combat Armor, andhefted my long stashed gatling laser, pocketed my pulse pistol, and grabbed the forbidden paramedic's bag. I swore to Lisa I'd never become that old me again, but where was that old me when she needed it the most? Haunting memories.

When I came back, some of the locals had started to rail against the containment the guards were imposing. I saw what was going to happen before it did. I had just enough time to slam down a Psycho...this madness was preferable to the other kind, the impending doom. One man tried to run the blockade...and that's when the shooting began. It all happened so fast. It always does.

I shoulder barged the nearest line and broke through, commandeering a local house outside the main city walls. I shot one guard through the chest, obliterating his torso. I hefted my gatling laser and tore through a line of them. I regret that their metal armor caused significant casualties among the civilians. It was already upon us, the screams, the howling. But they wouldn't relent. It had finally taken everyone. The madness was there.

They kept coming, all of them. People were dying, monstrosities and deathclaws were herded by the sour sweet winds of oblivion. All those caught out in it were beginning to suffer. It was upon us. I remember that the Knight was beside me...I don't know how he got there. All I knew is that he was White, and he was a Paladin. I remember an enclave trooper...he screamed his name was Pete and he wasn't going to let them take me without a fight.

We took two mother deathclaws at the door. By this point, my oldest comrade, Ermac, had showed up with Avenger in hand. We took them in pairs, I kept slamming super stims into his neck seals to keep him upright, while inhaling jet with crushed buffout in it. Then the tide of mutants came, we were being shot by both mutants and the crazed guards. It was then I had the awful epiphany that his presence heralded a death foretold.

The mutant, a visage of the master himself, shoulder barged the door, knocking us all down. His relentless charge shattered my visor and sent the knight and the trooper sprawling. It was then, Ermac suffered the worst end of the deal, dragged out by a monstrosity and gunned down by a crazed guard. All I could see was him spinning up the barrels of his Avenger, taking the guard with him as he was gored by the abomination's horns. The only thing I could hear in that horrific moment... was the Elite Nightkin laughing...his bellows shaking the ground. My tears tainted the soil with bitter rage.

I shuddered with anguish. It was like watching Lisa taken from me all over again. My hesitation...my weakness, cost him his life. I prepared to overload the battery in my pulse pistol...I wanted that Nightkin dead even if it cost me my arm. It was then, another paladin...I never knew his name, I just saw his plasma rifle firing until the barrel was nothing but slag. He burned a hole straight through the back of the mutie's head; that was right before the pressure wave came and obscured him from our vision.

And that's when the caravans came in droves...there must have been dozens of them. I knew this was the true end. Resistance was futile. Everything began to slow down. Pete was yelling to move, the Knight was gone, as we had lost him in the fight. I can only hope with my soul of souls that his fate was pleasant, and that his end was merciful.

They poured in by the dozens. I remember taking dozens of hits to my torso in the opening salvos, and returning it with a concentrated salvo, slamming the last of my mentats to concentrate further. I had to hold the line at all costs. They drove me in to the back room. Pete and I were cut off, he had retreated across the road. I could still hear his gatling going until the power core failed. Mine wasn't far behind. I checked my ammo reserves as I fell back to the final room. It wouldn't matter...I was out of stimpacks and my paramedic's bag was gone. I sipped the last Nuka Cola and readied my final salvo.

I was taken around a corner at point blank range by a laser rifle shot to the face. I was reeling on my knees, as I pressed the barrels into the weak points of his metal armor. He fell into pieces as I pushed myself onto my feet again. The kill squad was there. The lead pair of the dozen took me in the chest with two full mags from their FN FAL HPFA's. The seals of my armor began to fail under the withering 5mm and 7.62 fire. I took one of them out with a concentrated shot to the pauldron, ripping his arm off and incinerating his nearby friend. The arcs of lightning tore through their unprotected metal shells, causing several to convulse. I however, was nearly spent.

From the back of the room, a single, well aimed 5mm shot range out and pierced my elbow joint. I screamed in absolute pain; I watched the blood drip down my now crippled arm as I discarded my Gatling Laser. It's barrels were melted anyways...and I looked up with unrelenting determination, and met two 5mm AP rounds to the helmet. Driven back into the corner of the room, half slumped on a chair...all I could do was breathe one last gasp.

The last thing I whispered before I saw the feral guard's Ripper coming for the gap in my helment was..."Lisa..."

Darkness swallowed my world...it felt as if it lasted many years. How I ended up here, alive, I know not...there is an awful gash around the gorget seal of where my armor was...I'm sure I'll soon know the answer, and whether I'm saved...or another captive to a cruel master yet again. I will never yield.

I will not let this be the last light.

I will live.

Slowhand

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #10 on: October 01, 2017, 05:59:56 pm »
Good writing Bella, you should write some quests :)

Annabella

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #11 on: April 14, 2018, 09:11:42 am »
Diary of Annabella, last faithful member of The Last Light's Crisis Response Operators.

Based on true events during the last several months of Season Three, listed by day number.

By a tortured soul, burning a path to Hell...

       Day 1 - A new day, a new beginning. Ermac's alive. That's at least a relief. I swore I saw him die the other day. Turns out the Deathclaws missed his vital organs. There's a new gal in the group named Sheila. She's been doing our clerical work. Life's a lot easier now that she's helping me tally supplies. Oxen's frustrating as ever. A royal pain, as he always is. But he's rounding up the search in the area for urban lockers. The Hub is a mess. So many new people coming out of the East. There must have been a mass exodus. We'll have to see if all of this plays to our advantage. I hope to have our initial outpost completed by the end of tomorrow. Maybe then I can relax and have some "me" time.

       Day 2 - We ran into a snag. But that's nothing out of the ordinary. Sheila went off and decided to "try out" being a slaver. I guess no one told the poor girl she'd have to get a tattoo. Fortunately, Oxen's smooth with the Slaver's Guild. Got out of there without firing a shot. That girl's on a permanent leash around me...

In any case, Ermac and Oxen managed to get enough junk together to build our Depot. I can finally start making some boxes and lockers now. And I know just who's going to fill them...hehe.

       Day 5 - The Hub has seen an influx of familiar faces. I don't think they'll stick around long. Something's wrong with this place. It's not the same as before. I guess it's just the Eastern people. They don't fight the same way. And with so many people around, everything within a 10 mile radius is already picked clean. I haven't so much as seen a single 2mm EC round in about a week. I think they'll just keep on going West, at this rate. At least I hope they will. Those degenerate perverts keep making passes at Sheila. I'm going to snap one of these days and feed them to the Adytum Deathclaws. Wretched fools.

       Day 7 - I was spying in Reno's Sewers today, and I caught a guy running away from Scavs with a ton of stuff in his pack. How he managed to get in and get past the dozen or so people there is beyond me, but I have a feeling that this scene is going to repeat itself many times over. It leaves me with a sense of dread. I am sure that that amount of gear will serve the wrong masters in the days to come. Aaaand I'm bleeding again. Probably from chewing on my nails to the bed when I'm nervous. That's a really terrible habit...I've got to break it at some point.

       Day 10 - The Scavs finally packed up. Reno itself has been very quiet these past days. Everything just feels so empty. I think that might be the disappearances lately. Our company had 12 people at the start. We're down to 9 now. Ermac, Oxen, and Sheila are still here. Some of our auxiliary units went missing today. I don't think they want to be found. People are leaving the Hub in droves. I wonder what's making them bolt so quickly...

       Day 14 - Local storytellers have started telling some tales of incredible monsters and villains of unimaginable macabre deeds. Naturally, at first people scoffed at the old men and women, but when one of them finally held up a map and threw down a sack of ten thousand caps for the first person to bring back the head of the mutant in question...let's just say it was a gold rush. None of them came back. I guess it might be time to see if Oxen and I can take it on. That and I think the flies in Junktown are starting to drive me mentally insane with their incessant buzzing. I bet no one cleaned out the Brahmin pens. Lazy vault dwellers...

       Day 18 - I haven't had much time to write because I haven't slept. I always like to write right before I go to sleep if there's anything worth remembering. I usually play with my hair with my pen's quill. I always loved how fluffy that feather felt against my skin.

Oh...right. I was writing. Oops.

Anyways, airheadedness aside...we've made over one million caps in four days. With what's left of our company, a mockingly shorthanded 6, we've hunted these so-called telltales to the ends of the earth. The bounties and equipment we've salvaged have been nothing short of the windfall we've always dreamed of. Something tells me that the three guys we lost won't be the end of the toll that will be paid in blood by the time the curtain falls.

       Day 23 - Hmm...I should really remember that writing in public, especially when trying to use your hips as a proper surface, attracts the wrong kind of attention.

Let's just say the sexual pressure and constant passes at me have taken turns for the worst, some precipitating into outright violence. Because of this, I've taken to writing in complete solitude, where I can let my defenses down. I'm glad I'm quick on the draw with my Pulse Pistol...

       Day 31 - It's finally coming to a close. With a measly four of us left, we completed the last of the available bounties. All traces of the "telltales" have vanished. I knew we weren't the only ones pursuing them, but their abrupt departure from the stories of the elders and from the local boards are nothing short of an utterly unique mystery to me. It was definitely something of a bounty craze, that's...that's for certain...

       Day 59 - When's the last time I even opened this thing? I think this insipid descent into utter madness is beginning already. It's been almost 2 months since we began, and I haven't seen hide or hair of Sheila in weeks. I think she's finally upped and abandoned us for the easier work of a brothel. She always was a little more receptive to the flirting than I. I think her promiscuity extended far beyond just her personality. I'll miss her feminine presence though. Maybe it was my teasing...

       Day 64 - I heard Lisa's voice for the first time in months. I was standing next to the barrel that mysteriously appeared in the Hub about a week ago when it happened. I think NukaColaman had given me some of his self named soda when it happened. The last thing I remember before I dropped my drink was shivering uncontrollably. I woke up with Oxen over me, cooling my head with a damp cloth. How he appears seemingly out of thin air is beyond me. I guess that's what siblings are for. He said he found me slumped against the barrel having seizures. The haunting has begun anew.

       Day 71 - Ermac left our company, polite as ever. I never thought I'd see the day when he willingly parted my side. He said he was going back to the North. I suppose he has unfinished business with a few gangs there. I doubt we'll ever see him here again, though we may end up following him when things dry up there. All I remember in the address was something about a 2...

Anyways...I should head back to the Hub. The cool feeling of oxidizing iron is soothing and cathartic for my aching soul.

       Day 75 - It's finally sunken in. It's just Oxen and I. The two siblings are all that remain. Sometimes he comes to the Hub and just watches me for a while. Sometimes he even strikes up fake arguments. I know he's trying to cheer me up. It only works for a time. He thinks I can't see him hiding in the trees. I may be a silly little creature, but I am certainly not lacking for perception.

I'll trip him the next time he comes swaggering up to my barrel. Knowing my luck, he'd probably jab me with the active end of his Super Cattle Prod. What an oaf.

       Day 81 - There's three types of raiders. A dead raider, a live raider, and a Khan Raider. Only one and a half of those are good. I'll let you decide which is which.

In any case, I recently signed up for raider on raider violence. I thought only the Enclave had Vertibirds. I was very wrong. I met a man named Smash Adams, and his friend, Courage. They're Khans, and they flew me in their lovely chopper-like construct. That was a refreshing experience. We ended up somewhere in the great salt plains. Apparently, they had a score to settle, and wanted a tactician / medic. Well, they got one.

So it turns out that we ended up in a good old gang fight with several competing groups. We strolled up in there with Desert Combat armor on and proceeded to brawl. Dozens of smoking ruins of corpses later, we took on their leader. A shrewd sniper, he took Courage out of the fight with a well placed headshot. I don't know what they make those helmets out of, but he lived. A .223 FMJ round went into his helm and failed to penetrate, but knocked him unconscious. Fortunately, Adams was handy with his Assault Rifle and perforated the bastard. One Psycho injection later and a handful of stimpacks, and Courage was back on his feet.

I get the feeling Courage would have killed me on the way back if it was just the two of us, still, though. I guess it's just a raider thing.

       Day 92 - I've been standing here shooting Mentats up my nose for the past hour and I can't decide if the berry flavor smells better than the mint flavor. I think I've truly lost it. I'm brewing new coatings for Mentats in my spare time. Lisa would kill me if she saw me using my medical talents for these kinds of atrocious and pointless pursuits. I've still yet to build up the courage to ingest one fully. I just like how the coating smells. Probably a side effect of being the only person on the planet who loves the texture of Rad-Away packages. I'm notoriously strange. I guess as long as I stay away from Nuka-Cola, we'll all live another day.

       Day 100 - I've had a long history of talking to shady people out of pure entertainment. Recently, as I've touched on before, I've taken to enjoying the company of a lovely person named Smash Adams. Of course, the price tag was Khan association. Khans in and of themselves are just vicious by design, but underneath this veneer lies a plethora of personalities. This one is comical and enjoyable. However, all good company parts. I've got a feeling he doesn't enjoy his initiative duties as a Khan.

Today, I was proven right. In my forward Ops tent, which I was supposed to never show to anyone out of principles of security, I found a note that said 3 things on it from him.

The first was, "I'm Smash Adams!" What a dolt.

The second was, "I'm leaving, don't try to find me."

The third was..."Because in Soviet Russia, I'm still Smash Adams!" He'd better hope I never see him again, because I'm going to slap the crap out of him for using the same joke twice in one sitting.

       Day 129 - Nothing but degenerates in the Hub these days. A bunch of sycophants and lunatics. One look into their eyes tells me what they want. I'm not a person, I'm just an object to be used to satisfy their hunger. Sometimes I just want to leave and never return, but that would be what they want. It's probably my fault for encouraging the negative behavior...because sometimes I purse my lips, and occasionally I sigh or stretch in an appealing manner. It's tough being me, because that's the problem. I am always...just...me.

       Day 134 - I took a stroll through Broken Hill's Ant Hell. Those mine shafts brought on a new host of memories that I shouldn't have dug up. As I placidly picked off one ant after another with my Laser Pistol...I could almost smell her perfume. The sweet strawberry to match her red hair...just like mine. I sat down in the South West corner and waited for them to crawl out of their mounds, and I could almost hear her gleeful laughter. I realized in that moment that I wanted nothing more than to put the barrel of that still warm pistol in my mouth and pull the trigger...but alas, my penance is to live each day in a writhing hell that consumes my soul further.

       Day 157 - The nightmares have begun again. I thought that perhaps Xander root tea before bed would stop it...and it has for many months. But not anymore. I found a memento that broke all the tranquility in my mind. I found Lisa's bracelet that has my name engraved in it. I thought she took it with her when she was taken from me. No such luck, it appears. The past is determined to come back and scream in my face at every turn. I woke up this morning to a cold sweat. I kept dreaming that she was asking me to come with her to oblivion, that it was better this way.  Stupid Radio 0, some guy was screaming about Hinkley. I swear, people live in that simulator. Virtual Reality is poison, but fortunately it saved me from whatever was at the end of that tunnel. I don't want to see her die in my sleep anymore...

       Day 173 - I completely swore off Caravan duty today. I've had a bit of a ritual with helping the weaker hands around these parts for many years of my life, but today broke me. We were fighting Super Mutants near Mariposa. Most of the weaker guys had peeled off when they heard our next stop was San Fran, but there were a couple of the 'ole heavy hitters. At the end, it was just Deathangel and myself. We were facing down a Lieutenant and his two remaining Nightkin guards. The rest of the caravan was in smoking ruin behind us. I took aim with my newly procured Alien Blaster, and Deathangel shredded the Nightkin. I landed a glancing blow to the Lieutenants hulking arms, but it was enough for him to drop his deadly Avenger. I clambered up, snatched it, and together, we took him apart with twinned bursts of 5mm AP. As we celebrated our victory, we felt it before we heard it. We were thrown several meters apart as an explosive rocket detonated at our feet. I remember getting up, the feeling was like walking on glass, there were dozens of pinpricks of shrapnel in my left leg. I came to my senses before he did, and lanced a blistering pulse shot of alien energy into the hulking mutant's eyes. I dragged Deathangel to my nearby outpost, started up the Scout, and dropped him at the Hub. I don't think I'm getting out of bed for a week. Kill me.

       Day 190 - I've taken to giving away small bits of our unreal mass of caps to those less than fortunate. What started at 10 million has dwindled down to around 1.2 million. I've made more than a few people quite well off. It still doesn't quench the burning guilt at the back of my mind. People say that in the medical business, you learn to take off your smock and wash your hands, and leave the life and death of the day behind. Some dirt never quite washes off, and some screams never quite fade from memory. Some wounds never quite heal, and if they do, they never feel right...always something off, like a knot in the muscle, or a twitch in the nerve. With each cap, my admonishment will grow, not wane. A hollow life is one best not lived at all...

       Day 199 - It's been years since Lisa left our company, and sometimes when I'm standing there, I swear I still hear her whisper in my left ear. She'd always stand there and place her arm around my neck...

I'm starting to think this barrel is cursed. People always keep walking up and taking bits of junk from these barrels. I wish they'd stop, but these barrels never seem to run dry of useful bits to take. The rust is comforting, it reminds me that I'm not the only one here vulnerable to the atrophy that is brought on by time.

       Day 209 - Ermac showed up today along with Sheila. They were passing through on a convoy. Apparently they've been North, working together. That was a relief, definitely a huge load off my mind. I haven't seen three quarters of the company since the first month. Apparently, they're all dead now. I got the obituaries handed to me this morning. That cut the joy quite short.

Still no sign of Oxen. I saw him last week. I think he's going to make good on his promise and get lost North of Modoc for good. Either that or he's gotten really good at hiding now. We'll find out soon enough, I guess.

       Day 212 - There's nothing to keep me here any longer. I keep seeing Lisa in my waking hours, beckoning me. Sometimes people will be talking to me and I'll just wince and grip the barrel tighter. Today I gripped it so tight that a huge slab of rusted iron broke off and slashed my hand open.

I remember many people staring at me as I walked off into the twilight, blood trailing behind me. As I idly probed the wound with a stimpack's receptor needle, I walked to the Depot and sat down in the tent. My mental state has deteriorated to the point that there's little point in recording anything as factual. I mended the wound, and typical of me when bothered, I pursed my lips and ran my hands through my hair. How much time have I wasted here?

       Day 225 - It's only me now. I'm the only one left on duty. Oxen didn't show for his monthly supply drop. And he's never been truant before. That only means one of two things...he's abandoned us...nay, abandoned me, or he's dead. I wouldn't blame him honestly, I'm a mess.

I got letters from Ermac and Sheila. They're officially moving on to greener pastures and don't know if they'll ever come back. I have no idea what that means, but to me, it means that life's going to be hard to bear alone.

Alone...if one can call it that. I finally managed to work up the courage to walk the Bazaar in NCR again. I sat down at my table...no...our table. I reached my hand across the table and I swear I -FELT- another soft hand hold it. I crumbled at that touch...because only one person's skin feels that soft. And it's not mine...

I fear my sanity is measured in minutes. I've gotten back in the Hummer and gunned it back to the Depot. I'm leaving this holotape here in case I don't come back. Oxen, if you read this, you were always the nicest brother anyone could ever ask for. I hope you find a nice girl that isn't bratty like me who appreciates everything you do for them.

I...on the other hand...I'm going to have a nice Nuka-Cola somewhere far from here. I can feel the ghost pains of a night terror coming on. I know as soon as I close my eyes, it will take me. I just hope that I've been good enough to earn the mercy of my creator's will. If I even deserve such a thing.

I fear death will only be the start of my suffering.

- Ann
« Last Edit: April 14, 2018, 10:04:56 am by Annabella »

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #12 on: November 12, 2018, 02:27:14 pm »
Very nice.
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swinglinered

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Re: Journal of the Officer
« Reply #13 on: November 12, 2018, 08:20:18 pm »
Very good, Annabella.

Reminds me of my Ghost Network toward the end of 2238.

Just SwinglineRed and his alts standing vigil over the corpse of Repo.

Or I am I combining memories of many sessions which usually turned out the same way?