((These logs are OOC info unless you manage to pickpocket Drige's datapad from him and acces it)) ((OOC questions or comments welcome)) Entry 1: My ship has crash landed on this desert planet. I do not worry though, I have set an automated distress beacon and my friends or anyone are sure to pick up on it soon. In the meantime, I will build a crude shelter by a small oasis.
Entry 2: *1 week later* They seem to be having trouble picking up my signal. I have tried to reach out, and nobody responds. They surely must just be having issues getting here.
Entry 3: *3 months later* Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where am I? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Why won't they come? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Please come back... Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? They were never coming... Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they? Where are they?
Entry 5: *one week later* [Video Feed] *Drige sits in front of a camera, visible chest up with his hands in his lap* Hahahaha... I was a fool. Nobody was ever coming. I was just a troublemaking kid who ran from home. I managed to find something to oocupy my time beyond survival here though. I made two rather exquisite guns. *he raises his left arm revealing a gold-plated revolver, modded for a hair trigger and places it near his head* I call this one Mania, it has a little partner *he raises his right arm revealing a long-barrel high caliber silver plated revolver and places it to his other temple* Dementia... Two names for mental disorders, fitting for a hylotl who is losing his grip no? Well... I am sick of barely surviving each day all these years... I am sick of watching myself lose my grasp on reality itself. *he begins crying as he raises the revolvers flush with his head, proceeding to sob, which continues for 2 minutes as his arms drop back down to his sides dropping his guns* *He then begins to chuckle before laughing hysterically, picking back up his guns and spinning them around some before looking into the camera at his own image being displayed* Hello there little fishy, my name is Drige Thosto!! Would you like to learn of the great cabbage god? No? Well that's alright, I have cultists to face anyway. *he runs off into the distance as the film times out and auto-uploads* [End Playback]
((Thought it high time I updated this)) *months later* -Drige's voice is heard, quiet strained whispers- I don't want to remember... The things I did, that they made me do... The loneliness... All those years. It doesn't hurt when I don't have to remember, when I get to wear the mask I thought I got rid of this bottle, I don't want to accidentally take them again. People don't seem to care about the mask, when I let go, if only they knew. Heh, if that girl knew, even she would find hate in her heart. *a clattering is heard as a pill bottle is thrown across the room* I need to sleep, when I wake up I can go back to the mask, I don't even know my own recordings as myself then... *a rustling is heard and the audio clicks off*
*timeframes are 1to1, you know the drill* -His voice is monotonous, tired- The fools- My... Friend died. The Floran known as Petaldancer, a rare pick among her race. One who always put up with my insanity with gentleness and a smile. Murdered by some backwater gang. I can't hide from reality anymore, death is a thing, there are terrible people in this world. I should know, I was one of them. Helping to devlop the bio-weapons we used in the first war against the florans. Their screams still haunt me, the things we created and tested on the prisoners we were able to take. Herbicides that made their senses stop working so we could slaughter them like unresponsive sheep. Or in the later days, chemicals that caused their entire body to dehydrate and wither in minutes, like starving within an hour. I'm glad these things were lost, they never held any place in our society. But I cannot forget. And now, I cannot retreat back into my own insanity. Madness is a bitter mercy, but it seems the universe has no more for me. Sanity is worse, far worse, when you hate what you are. The affections the fool held for her are a part of me now. Maybe I can help her fiance seek some revenge against those who killed her. It won't fully atone, but it may be a start. -the recording ends-
