Currently all of Sid's personal data is stored on a encrypted segment of their RezoTouch Data Tablet. This includes pages upon pages of source code for various projects, dated photo albums, personal memos and reminders, and neatly cataloged video diary recordings. [Video Diary Entry: "Disaster"] The camera flips on although it's hard to tell at first. Only the soft sound of someone's breath manages to cut through the darkness. Slowly the balance adjusts and from the inky blackness vague shapes appear. "I don't think anyone really expected it to turn out like this." A hollow voice whispers. The silhouette of a body begins to form, lit by a digital blue glow. They are laying on their side, draped in a sleeping bag. It's Sid of course. "Uh, I don't really want to talk about it. -Tabby, reference news articles titled 'Collapse’ written now, uh, range one month." "Mew." The synthetic reply rings out, seemingly from within the recording device. "Anyways, I made it out, barely. Sis made it too. She's uh, she's on her way back to Nubejing. To live with mom and dad. Yeah… Me? I'm in some refugee camp out in the middle of nowhere Antares. Like, in the middle of a jungle, nowhere." Sid pauses, their eyes widening. It's dead silent but their sleepless eyes dart back and forth searching for something. “Um. The people here... ta ma de, they freak me out. There's a lot of scars and guns and bad attitudes. I feel like I'm locked in that room with Mr. Yamatta's crew again." After a nervous swallow and another wandering glance, Sid wiggles closer the the camera. The audio is flooded with the sound of rustling nylon. "Not everyone, though. Silky is here and, uh, he's pretty close to one of the chicks running this hole in the ground. So right now, well, I'm trying to be useful and not get on anyone's bad side. I've kinda resigned myself to the role of, uh, electrician. -It beats chopping trees." Sid’s head flops onto a pillow; their hair follows obscuring their face. After about five minutes of silence they shift their head, peeking between their messy locks to stare at the camera. "... I don't think I'm getting much sleep again tonight. I'm out of painkillers and I forgot to pack those sleep aids. Hrnn... Better get some work done. Tabby, end and archive"
[Video Diary Entry: "Claire"] The low rumble of machinery and the whine of electrical generators can be heard as the camera focuses in on Sid, standing before a workbench covered in electrical scrap. Their hand draws back from the camera as they continue to poke and prod components with a soldering iron. With the scene bathed beneath a flickering yellow light, it’s difficult to see much outside the workshop other than a few twinkling stars on the edge of the horizon. “Ni hao… So uh, we got a real workshop set up, which I’ve been spending a lot of time in. You know, it’d almost be kinda nostalgic. ...Well, if any those memories ended pleasantly. It’s more, uh, uncomfortably familiar.” Those sleepless eyes bounce up and down from iron tip to camera lens. They stifle a yawn with the back of their hand, poking their soft cheek with the tip of unspooled solder in the process. "Ow. Uh. Right. We opened camp to the public. I was a little apprehensive because, well, I heard bad things about the rest of the sector. It could have gone better but, overall the new faces are an improvement.“ Sid sets the iron back in its stand and peeks over their shoulder. Their sharp brows perk and relax. Returning to face the camera, they rest their chin in their palm as they lean forward over the bench. “The thing is, well, drama as it always is. So there’s Claire. Huge blond chick who likes to collect scars, apparently. I’m working on some electronic stand assist for this wang ba dan. Some hunk of junk armor that’s gonna keep her -and us- safe from the United Systems. Cause they are threat? Like, I dunno.” Sid’s eyes loop up and back down again skeptically. “But uh, we are talking about a chick that plays with miniguns like they are toys. I’m not gonna say no… Hrnn. At the same time, I just get this really bad feeling. That if she gets what she wants she’ll pick a fight and drag all of us into it.” Try as they might, Sid cannot not stop an incoming yawn. Their jaws wrench open as the shrill whine escapes. “Ta ma de, I’m so tired. I hardly sleep anymore, just toss and turn. If it’s not the rain or the wind, my leg starts throbbing. But, I dozed off during the day today, right after dinner. Maybe I’ll actually pass out here soon. But I got to DIY a few more tip switches. Um. But that’s all I got for you, Tabby. You can stop and archive now.”
[Video Diary Entry: "Friends?"] The camera clicks on to immediately be bathed in a shower of bright white light. A sudden blur of brownish black races across the screen until everything stabilizes around Sid’s face. A reddish crease lines their forehead from an afternoon spent with their face slumped onto the table. The deserted camp pavilion fills the background. The silence is only occasionally disturbed with intelligible sounds of labor in the far distance. After pressing their flaked, dry lips together a few times, Sid’s narrow eyes lock to the camera. "Nihao. I've, uh, finally started to get settled in. Well, as much as I can. This place is still a shithole, but it's not so much a lonely shithole. I've managed to make a few friends and establish some, uh, contacts. Like, I got a roommate, Jay. Uh, Jay Zed rev Eee, I think? Neat jiqiren, one of his primary directives is to be helpful sooo… he's good to keep around. Trying to not swindle the guy too bad, I mean I did open my tent to him." Sid’s hand slides along the side of their neck settling just below their chin. As their shoulders slump forward, they keep their head propped up in the palm of the hand. Meanwhile their other hand creeps toward the camera lens. The image shakes, as their finger tips reach just below the camera's view. "Then there’s Fritz. She got flushed here from the Grid too. 'Diskette be whiz.' And, yeah, looks like she hardly speaks common. Sometimes it's a little hard for us to understand each other but, like, at the same time we /understand/ each other. More than any other wang ba here, at least." Sid’s gaze floats downward. Their shoulders rise and fall as they pump a jet of hot air out of the side of their mouth. After twenty seconds or so they withdraw their outstretched arm, bringing it up to support their chin as well. Their eyelids flutter and their lips part into a small ‘o’ shape. "Hey, Tabby, put this on my to do list." "Mew," the ever vigilant q-t-kyat avatar replies. "Get my high cap lithium pack back from McKenzie, uh, low priority. He seems cool enough, it probably won't be a problem. And, um, while you are at it, replace that 'repay Sol for coffee’ with 'get coffee pot’. Annoy me about it." Sid’s fingers rap on along their jaw bone. Their fair brow wrinkles. After another brief silence, they right their posture and give the camera a hasty nod. Their arms fold tightly across their chest, stressing the fabric of their tight fitting jacket. "That's good, Tabby. Uh, as for other camp news, there have been a few cases of, uh, guns getting pulled, florans being… florans, and food poisoning. But I'm somehow still alive. Yep. Actually, I might need to do something about my leg soon. It hurts like zhuore di diyu. Buuut, right now I really need to make some dosh. I've got a plan, I just need some time and a few more scrap servos. I'll upload the details later. Tabby, end and archive."
