[ I will be adding more to this later. This is just the first audio log, and the start of Baileaf's diary. There's a lot I gotta go through and flesh out!] [Edit: Renamed the Thread Title since I may expand out of Audio Logs for the victims.] Log: 0891 Ship: USMC Entourage Crew Log: Coporal Mitchelson Sirens blare loudly throughout the Audio Log, a frightened voice garbled through the static. A young man from the sounds of it, maybe in his early or mid-twenties. "This is the last audio log of Corporal John Mitchelson of the USMC Entourage. Earlier today at 0800 Hours, our Captain--, against standard procedure for a civilian vessel, intercepted a Glitch distress signal. Me and a team of engineers beamed down to the planet, the glitch ship was heavily damaged, and all but a single member of the crew was dead." The Corporal gulps, the sound of a metallic panic door being bent and buckled screeching in the distance as he stammers. "The single Glitch alive, named Junkheap, was very unresponsive. She refused any treatments, and pleaded that the corpses of her kin were bought aboard, stating that it was some kind of... Glitch ritual. Yeah, at the time it seemed like a legit thing. Right? Just some weird alien death ritual--" A loud, vibrating explosion pierces through the log, chattering voices emit from a nearby radio, mixing with a plethora of garbled hissing and screeches. "Oh god, oh god help us all... No time to explain. Look! If anyone ever gets ahold of this. Don't trust the damned Florans, don't trust the damned Glitch. The fucking flowers HID inside of their CORPSES like fucking parasites hitching a ride on a goddamned--!" Loud pistol firing is accompanied by the more subtle shots of a Floran needler, sizzle, pops, and crackles of corrosive poison emitting from the ship. "This is Mitchelson, signing out. For the last ti--Hrrrkk!" A thin splattering sound, a pained groan followed by a few stray shots and more splattering noises. "Ssstab ssstab! Floran ssstab meat! Ssssh! Thisss ssship isss Floransss now hsssss!" The log clicks off with a few beeping noises. ---------------------------------------- Deeer Dyare, Floran iz plezed wif ju-unkheep. Floran will miss her lots, she wus vary nice metahlmahn. Taut floran how to reed and right when 1st crashed onto Florans hoemm! Tribe wus scarud becuz plahnet was running out of meet, when Floran told ju-unkheep, ju-unkheep kame up wif bri-, brr,, smahrt plan. ju-unkheep wuld sind for halp, and floran wuld hide in mehtalman, thun we-hen peepol tri to hulp, floran would suh-pri-zzz thum. mehtalmahn wus gud frind, askud Floran to rite for her. sayed tha-at mehtallmahn lykid to right. So floran will muhke wurds pre-teh for ju-unkheep. will rite moar laytur, coz thanks tu ju-unkheep, Floran has meet and shep! luv, Bayleef ...Sssometimesss, Floran wondersss...
Log: 001 Ship: Avian Shuttle Crew Log: Unknown The screen flickers to life, static flickers along it before simmering down. An Avian twirls about within his seat, his plumage the color of the open sky, speckled with patches of cloud white. He's smiling, as best as someone with a beak can smile. "Today is the day!" He beamed proudly, raising his feathered arms skywards. "The day we get away from it all... Felix said he was going to nab his own shuttle. I would... Have liked if we'd just shared one but, heh. Guess he was getting nervous too..." There was a single moment where the Avian's finger brushed against his beak, his feathers ruffled as he spoke. It was obvious that the boy was just trying to keep himself calm. "I mean, I know it's just a shuttle and all. But, I'm sure he didn't get caught... I mean, he couldn't have. Hah, yeah.. Yeah. I'm not at all worried about it. We've been waiting for this day for.. Forever." The youth muttered, twiddling his fingertips, rambling on to his personal log. He stops suddenly, glancing out of one of the ships window. "Annnnd there it is, heh. One USMC Vessel, just like he promised. I'll just pop open my hailing frequencies and--" His fingers flew across the shuttles console, an automated response echoing throughout the small Avian ship. Permission granted, enjoy your stay. Within minutes the ship docked, the Avian teen was far too distracted. Guiding the shuttle carefully into the opening of the human ship. A loud cluttering thwump, and the ship had successfully docked. In his rush he forgot to shut off the video log! Leaving it to stare at the empty cockpit of the shuttle. Minutes passed, a soft shuffling approaching the shuttles entryway. A figure stood there, twin daggers in hands, the leafy Floran glancing about with a wide grinning mask. Its head tilted towards the console. The Floran stepped closer, staring into the console's recording camera and raising a finger to the masks toothy grin. "Sssshhh..." It said, sliding beneath the bed, the beady red eyes reflecting off of the screen. A mass of echoing steps broke the deafening silence, the Avian from before bursting into the shuttle cockpit. Once glossy blue feathers was smeared with patches of crimson, an arrow sticking from his shoulder. A Floran burst in after him, only to earn a surprise blow from the Avian's closed fist, sending it sprawling out of the camera's feed. He worked frantically upon the console, the airlock shutting tightly with a loud hiss. Distraught and afraid, he raised his hands against his face, blocking all but his beak. Soft choked sobbing. Unbeknownst to him was the shuffling from beneath the bed. The subtle movements of the masked Floran. The daggers within its grasp glinting off of the dim light. In the background the sounds of Floran aimlessly smashing and pounding away at the shuttle doors filled the room. "Husssh now, little bird, isss time to go to bed.." The Avian's eyes jolted open, a simple stray motion of a feathered hand inadvertently disrupting the feed, static filled the screen for a few seconds. When it returned, the shuttle was silent, crimson smears danced along the wall, both Floran and Avian blood marked it, pieces of strengthened bark and leaves besides torn feathers and plumage. The Avian layed halfway out of the shuttles doorway, only to be grasped upon by an unseen figure and slowly dragged away. The video feed remains on for a few hours longer, a few flashing warnings about the power being drained as the sounds of something fiddling with the shuttles exterior, only for the log to abruptly end. A generic monotonous voice of an AI speaking. "End Log." ---------------------------------------- Dear Diery, Floran has wrighten in you a lot lately. This one has even surched meny of the ships rooms to find more and more books. Floran thinks Junkheap would be pleased, becos Floran can now wright better then Floran has ever wrightten before. Then again, Floran used to draw pictors instud of wrighting. Not that Floran minds new way. It is fun. Today Floran went through burds ship and found a log thingy. Floran likes callectyng them. Other Floran think this one is strunge for et, but Floran pointed out that Bird-Skinner luvs to wure burd clothing. So, Floran is not so strunge. Floran thinks tribe undurstandz. Floran is doing good thing by wrighting. Makes sure Junkheaps wishus are ful..full. f..uh..ill..ed. Fuhfullied? Floran will surch up word tomorrow when Floran is not tired. After watching log thingy, Floran met wif chiefton. Floran had to tell, it felt... Sad. Chiefton say that Floran shuld not feel bad for prey. But, prey wus happy in log?? Floran tried to xplane how Floran felt. Chiefton said et wus bad thots, and made Floran hurt until they went away! Now Floran is not sad. Burd was meat. Meat is food. no ned tu be sad over food. Floran will wright more in yu soon diery. Luv, Baileaf ...About the thingsss thisss one hasss done...
