The book before you is a dusty, old leather bound journal. An ancient ballpoint pen is clipped to the side, engraved in gold with the name ‘Red Hadley.’ The writing inside the journal is neat and easy to read. Date: 4/27 Entry #1 This… This is my first journal since the incident with the cultist. I’m sure this will help me in some way, but since the incident, my minds have been scattered. Tsifira has helped me, as has the rest of the crew, but this is something I’ve got to get through by myself. Or at least, until we get my memory wiped of the event. Speaking of that, I think it’s best that I record the events. I’ve experienced two episodes where I have lost control. One where I thought Omizu Suiyoubi, the ship’s doctor was the cultist who chopped off my arm, and one where I recalled the events to Tsifira vocally. In the first event, I broke Omizu’s nose. Luckily, this was before I had my replacements, or something worse could have happened. As for the second event, all I did was terrify Tsifira, which is painful enough on it’s own, but still better than anything else happening. As of today, my eyes and my arms have been replaced with cybernetic upgrades. I can see all spectrums of light with a switch, though they glow a gray color. Worth the drawbacks in my opinion. My arms, covered in synthflesh, are very robust, and very durable. They can project durasteel blades at the wrist or the elbow, in case of close combat situations. As for my leg, it’s just a leg, also covered in synthflesh. The doctor was a man named Unix, I paid for him pixels and an illegal shuttle. It was very worth it, at least in my opinion. Now that the events of the past few days are out of the way, I’d like to talk a bit about my personal life, and I -know- you find this so, so very interesting Zolin. To start, let’s go with Tsifira, another topic that I know my partner finds absolutely riveting. She said that she loved me today, but… I don’t know if I love her. I care about her, certainly more than I know Omizu and the other’s imply. It’s about more than just the sex to me. It’s about having someone that I can talk to, that I can rely on. Sure, I can rely on you, Zolin, you dirty, privacy invading bastard, but it’s not the same. It’s a difficult topic to approach. She… I did all of this, losing my arm, to protect her and the rest of the crew. And it was worth it. Stupid? Very. But worth it? Yes. It’s brought her closer to me, even if this has driven off Omizu… And Omizu can always be replaced. As for the rest of the crew, I appreciate Sessiel and Mazekial. They seem like good lads, and I’m glad that they’ve decided to tag along. They’re certainly interesting characters to talk to, at the very least. Especially that kid Sessiel, I want to get to know him better. There seems to be more to him than just being a goodie-goodie. Mazekial, I’m not to sure about. I’m content with him being our bottom bitch, at least for the time being. Then there is the topic of Omizu. Initially, I was fine with her joining the crew, but at this point, despite her saving my life, I am regretting allowing her to join. She is just an all around bitch. A pompous, over the top bitch, who think’s that she is better than everyone. She is cold and hard and calculating, and because we don’t act like her perfect ideal crew, we’re all terrible. Fuck that, I say. Despite my apology, it felt good breaking her nose, or at least, knowing I did it. She deserved it. Clearly, it’s my fault for being unstable after watching my own arm get lopped off. CLEARLY, it’s my fault that a man who is experiencing every painstaking moment of the worst experience of his life doesn’t like to get slapped. She’s just lucky that I didn’t have my arm blades when it happened, because she, and likely, some of the others would be dead by now. I have a lot of stuff to look forward to. Tsifira is going to teach me how to shoot. Hopefully we can find a doctor to wipe my memory so that I can sleep at night. Then, hopefully, we can get on with our lives. I should go and visit dad.
Written in the margins of Gray's journel small text written in pencil can be seen. "Are you still going through with that memory wipe by the way? You have not talked about it." "Are you alright about this by the way? You have not lashed out like this in a while. Want to avoid a mind wipe if it's possible. I've been looking into it. That shit is expensive." "Pfft. Dontcha think both arms was a bit fuckin' much? And it sounds like you are fucking showing off with those blades. What an asshole." "Also, keep the fuckin' synth flesh on. That shit is gross." "You fuckin' know i'll be looking through this shit. It's great entertainment." "Also, Omizu isnt that replacable. Seriously. Doctors ain't common. Or cheap." "Also, I suggest not just leading Tsifira on. That sounds like a fuckin' bad idea." "Sessiel is alright. Will get me beers when I ask. But he threw a fuckin' flashlight at me in the middle of a job, that fuckin' cunt." "I actually kinda like Maz, he ain't nearly as bad as I thought at first. Kinda funny. But I swear to christ fucking kleux above, Gray, i'll gut you if you tell him I said that. Seriously. Don't. "Again, Omizu isn't that fucking bad." "Also, don't drink when you have PTSD. It's fucking annoying and makes it more annoying to deal with it." "I also had to pistol whip you. That was fun." "Also, seriously, fuck her. I've been trying to get you to learn how to shoot for years and you never let me. And you let her do it? Fuck you. Die."
Date: 4/28 Entry #2 Second day of my new journal. Hooray. Boring notes that only Zolin finds interesting! I could respond to some of her notes, but that would be me acknowledging her directly. More directl- Fuck it, she and I know what I mean. Today was decent. I managed to make up with Omizu, expand the ship a bit, and punch through a door and nearly kill my feather. My one episode wasn’t so bad, as luckily there was a door in my way. And the fact that I installed those fast-shutting bulkheads prevented me from getting sucked out into space when I punched out the window in my room. I moved the door from my bathroom, because I don’t even really need one of those in the first place. Not much more worth writing. Crew don’t trust AI. AI seems nice enough, and is giving us a job. Maybe I’m wrong in being so trusting, but meh. Only time will tell. Also, I’m very impressed with my cybernetic arms and leg. I ate through that door like butter, and I’ll only be even better once I get my hands on those wired reflexes that I contacted Unix about. Maybe then I’ll be able to stand up against those drugged out cultist. I will not be caught out in the open again, not after last time Not much else to report today- I already wrote this above. To lazy to erase. And this is pen. Pen doesn’t erase. Bah- Tomorrow will hopefully be more eventful.
"Yep! You fucking know it." "Your fucking feather? That is the cringe worthy thing I've heard in a while." "Also, seriously, get a new door. That shit is annoying." "Your damn fucking straight I don't trust that AI. We're gonna regret that damn thing being installed." "Quit being such a cunt and space the god damn fucking thing." "Ugh, more cybernetics. Greeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaat." "Fuckin' asshole." "Boring. Christ, do more interesting things Gray." "You seriously need a hobby."
Date: 4/29 - 4/30 Entry #3 and #4 The entry starts off with a mess of quickly scrambled down notes: Tsifira: Likes: Shotguns, pistols. Grew up on a farm, boring. Family killed (Not a like), got first gun. Mostly self taught. Loves steaks, likes fruit juice, and cocktails. Guns, traveling, carving, movies, electronic music. Rubies, robes and dresses. Not too religious. Likes warm HATES: Oranges, cold, torture, EGGS Underneath these notes, the actual journal entry begins: Today was a pretty decent day, all in all. I may have gotten drunk off of several of the Liberty Mills Nukes, which are delicious by the way, and gotten into a fight with Sessiel, but it lead to something good. My feather - I’m going to refer to her as that from now on because it bothers Zolin - and I got to know each other. The notes above are information that we learned about each other. Yes, Zolin, I took notes, because I actually care about her. Surprising, I know. Everyone seems to think all I care about is getting into that feathery butt, but no. I actually want something meaningful with her. So we actually talked to each other. Got to know each other. And it was great. She also saw my PDW-9, which I was afraid would cause more of a problem than it did. But I don’t have any bullets, so I believe that took away some of her worry. Besides, I’ve got a grenade launcher coming soon too, and that should be far more concerning. I’m going to bring the ‘Cult of the Forgotten,’ to it’s knees. And then I’m going to execute it. I’ve got Zolin to stand with me, which is good. I’m going to need her skill with guns in the coming battles. And I know Tsifira is going to stand with me. Which is also good- She’s quite skilled as well. Though I do worry about the rest of the crew- Mazekial, Sessiel, Omizu… I don’t think Omizu will have a problem with it. I think she’ll get behind the idea, see it’s value, at least. I’m unsure of Mazekial and Sessiel however. On a more pleasant note, I also got my hands on some money from the folks over at the Rez. Armada. Which is good. Because our funds were down to zero. And now they’re back up to 2600 pixels. Which is good. Because money. I’m not entirely certain about them still, but it’s nice to have a steady supplier of work. I should invite Tarl Hollow to the ship, if he’ll come, and converse with him. Get a better feel of the faction. Of course, he seems like a busy man, so who knows. But still- We should speak to him, especially if we’re going to be working with him. Today has been a fairly normal - Though the logo that I’m getting commissioned was finished, and it’s fantastic. I’ll paste a picture below. View attachment 1259 ((Credit goes to Lucian, who is fantastic.)) I also put out an advertisement, trying to get us more money. God knows we need it, considering that we’re fairly broke. Some smugglers we are- Taking on a cult. For free. Without profit. It seems like I’ve drifted from my roots, but… Well, Red always told me to do what felt right in my gut. So I’m doing that. And this feels right. That’s all for now. Gray out.
"Holy fucking shit I thought the last entry was cringe worthy, this is just fucking silly now." "Also, fuck yourself with a rusty chainsaw 'my feather' isn't funny. Makes me wanna puke." "Also, the fact that you have to take notes is kinda pathetic." "If you buy bullets for that gun, i'm taking it away from you. Seriously." "Also, your welcome for helping you out with this stupid idea." "Also, without me you'd be totally screwed." "FINALLY. MONEY. YES." "Tarl seems like one of those up-tight stuffy all-business cunts. I don't like him." "That guard he had with him was kind of cute hilariously fuckin' stupid though." "Again, finally, we can actually start making money!" "Though, you still are going to get us all killed." "ALSO. 'Gray out.'? Fuckin' really? It's a journal not a fuckin' radio transmission. Dipshit."
A new page is started. The words below are very messy. So tired. I'm so very tired. I just want to rest.