Log 05X-4
Author: Rinas Rylos
Rank: C.E.O.
Corporation: Rinas' Raiders
Date: 117.02.25
Mood: Introspective
Weather: None. I live in space. Dur.
Weather in the battles today wasn't actually that great. It's hardly fun being shot at in the best of conditions, but when a veritable sandstorm is raining down on you like the asswipe of an angry deity? No fucking thank you. Normally we don't fight while weather is hitting us like this; Fucks with the electronics, makes it harder to identify FoF (Friend or Foe) signals, and there's the small, but not zero chance that we'll land a drop pod into the side of a refinery or whatever the fuck we're fighting over, ruining the whole thing and pretty much rendering the entire contract invalid. Granted, the fact that it'll change hands in about a week renders the whole thing a massive waste anyway, but, details. The entire contract was...well, imagine a normal one, but with visibility shortened to about ten feet in front of you. Yeah. I dunno how many shotguns littered the ground after that crap, but it's fair to say there's a factory out that's going into overtime to make up for all the ones we wasted.
So I thought I'd give a follow up on some more folks I didn't get to last time. Mostly because I'm writing these just before it's time for bed, usually, and sleepiness tends to claim me when I'm right in the middle of writing, and if I just keep doing that then I'll have a bunch of half-written entries and not actually complete any of them, so sometimes they've gotta be a little on the short side. Anyway! Chime. Do you remember Chime, diary? Equal parts cheerful and screwed up? Had a ridiculous fondness for pink? Yeah, she's become a fucking monster now. Still just as cheerful and sweet, and hardly a day goes by that I don't get an invitation to visit for food or try on some dress she found that she thought I'd like or something like that, but when she's on the battlefield, it's like she's another person entirely; By which I mean she turns into a beast fueled on the blood and fear of her enemies. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally happy to have (mostly) helped her work past her issues, especially since they were pretty similar to mine, but more than once I've been all too glad that she and I have been on the same side of a contract. You wouldn't think a single soldier with a crappy stealth module and a nova knife could inspire terror in hardened mercenaries, but...well, until I saw her go to work, I didn't know the human body had that much blood in it, so it was...educational, if nothing else.
I guess that leaves my family. Proper family, I mean, not that sack of shit sperm donor. They're all doing fairly well, or as well as they can be when I'm spending an obscene amount of money to keep them away from prying eyes. All that stuff about me disappearing from the records? A lot cheaper to do it to civilians, oddly enough. I guess the lack of killing ability means they're not exactly high up on the priority list, though you do have to shell out extra to make sure nobody gets curious about why precisely these random ass civvies need to go off the grid. Still, I have to imagine that there's at least one school admin out there who is confused as hell about why these kids all have different names in the computer. Yeah, I didn't actually pull them out of their lives, they shouldn't have to deal with what I'm doing, but all the computer registries have their names replaced by...I dunno what, I didn't look that far, but the important thing is that no one should come looking for them. Also, I hired some old "friends" to keep watch around the house and if they see anyone that looks suspicious they break their kneecaps. Y'know, never hurts to go that extra mile, especially when you're dealing with the stupidly rich and powerful, like...pretty much everyone that could ever actually become dumb enough to try and strike at an experienced killer for hire.
I will admit, I've never actually had someone come after me, least not anyone that didn't already know me. The old gang tried that shit until they found out that the reason I wasn't dead was because I'd gone from scrappy, mouthy, bitch to trained murder machine, and my Dad tried to fight me once in a drunken stupor. That's not the reason he's in a coma, but he did walk away with a couple shattered ribs. Anyway, I guess it might seem a little paranoid that I've been taking all these precautions for something that might not actually happen, but...I've seen how these corporations work. I've seen how the empires act when they don't get what they want, and it's goddamned frightening. You wouldn't think that these slow, lumbering behemoths of bureaucracy and paperwork could actually get a damn thing done, but you take something they want or had and suddenly they're sending out jackbooted thugs in force and hiring mercs to back them up. The only reason the Caldari haven't tried to off Kaz (once he got out of CCP-enforced space anyway) is because they're too scared to really tussle with the capsuleers out in unregulated space. Plus, they're not about to send their armies out just to off a single dude. I think. The Amarr thought tussling with the Jove was somehow a good idea, so I wouldn't discount any dumb notion on the part of these assholes, whether they're Gallente, Caldari, or whomever.
Alright. It's way past time for me to head to sleep. Gotta get some more sleep before another day of bullets whizzing past and occasionally into my head. We'll talk more later.
Showing posts with label exposition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exposition. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Log 051
Log 051
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders (R.R.A.S.)
-`Date: 115.08.24
It's weird knowing how a story ends, but still reading through it.
Or at least, that's what I've been telling myself since we managed to decode the documents. Good news and bad news on that front: The good news is that thanks to a collaberation between some of the more tech-savvy folks I reached out to, we have decoded that mass packet of documents! The bad news is that I just partially lied; They don't have more than a few pages of this crap properly decoded, and it's going to take more time (and money) to get the rest of it done. What's more, even the documents they did manage to decode are still censored pretty heavily. I asked them about it, but apparently this is as good as I'm going to get, even for the paycheck I'm putting out. Still, it's a start, and as far as I can tell, they even managed to get lucky and decode the beginning of the whole packet as well.
As for the pages we've got finished, it's an interesting read. Near as I can tell, the whole thing seems to be a series of reports on the initial experiments that were conducted on myself, along with everyone else that got picked for their fucking testing. Actually, come to think of it, it might just be easier to show you. Here:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Report 00*
Date: 114.0*.**.
Author: Dr. K*****.
These are the research logs of Dr. K*****, detailing the experiments surrounding Project ****. Due to the rejection of several subjects in groups L*** and O*** (from hereon to be referred to as groups L and O) initial testing was delayed for several days until suitable replacements could be acquired. Replacements arrived today, and after a brief rundown of their medical histories, we shall began to test without delay. Requests by the research team for further time to study the new technology (from hereon referred to as *****) were denied. Prior to initial surgeries, the groups were numbered as followed:
Group O: 15
Group L: 15
Group T: 15
Initial surgery group was comprised of 7 of group L. Three deaths occurred, either during surgery are during post surgery recovery. The remaining totals are:
Group O: 15
Group L: 12
Group T: 15
Despite the losses, Command has ruled that obtaining more subjects is unacceptable. A reprimand of the Surgery branch was issued shortly thereafter. Further, we are expected to produce a working prototype in each group before the first of **. Orders have been acknowledged, but a request has been put in for additional staff and equipment. Request is pending.
Summary: Final obtainment of subjects for testing Project **** prompted initial testing, leaving 3 dead. Surgery has been reprimanded, and orders for a prototype by date 114.**.0*. have been issued.
-End Log
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frustrating, huh? Honestly, the whole thing looks like a bunch of spooks ran through it with some digital fucking scissors, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers. Besides, maybe I'll get lucky and some of the other ones will be actually have the names and dates of who the fuck all these people are and just what they're doing. I mean, it's pretty obvious what project **** is, given that I was one of those fucking fifteen, but I still want to know more about what happened during the whole thing. Particularly given that there was nowhere near forty-two of us by the time they actually brought me back to consciousness.
I wonder how some of the other folks that managed to make it out are doing.
-End Long
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: C.E.O.
-Corporation: Rinas' Raiders (R.R.A.S.)
-`Date: 115.08.24
It's weird knowing how a story ends, but still reading through it.
Or at least, that's what I've been telling myself since we managed to decode the documents. Good news and bad news on that front: The good news is that thanks to a collaberation between some of the more tech-savvy folks I reached out to, we have decoded that mass packet of documents! The bad news is that I just partially lied; They don't have more than a few pages of this crap properly decoded, and it's going to take more time (and money) to get the rest of it done. What's more, even the documents they did manage to decode are still censored pretty heavily. I asked them about it, but apparently this is as good as I'm going to get, even for the paycheck I'm putting out. Still, it's a start, and as far as I can tell, they even managed to get lucky and decode the beginning of the whole packet as well.
As for the pages we've got finished, it's an interesting read. Near as I can tell, the whole thing seems to be a series of reports on the initial experiments that were conducted on myself, along with everyone else that got picked for their fucking testing. Actually, come to think of it, it might just be easier to show you. Here:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Report 00*
Date: 114.0*.**.
Author: Dr. K*****.
These are the research logs of Dr. K*****, detailing the experiments surrounding Project ****. Due to the rejection of several subjects in groups L*** and O*** (from hereon to be referred to as groups L and O) initial testing was delayed for several days until suitable replacements could be acquired. Replacements arrived today, and after a brief rundown of their medical histories, we shall began to test without delay. Requests by the research team for further time to study the new technology (from hereon referred to as *****) were denied. Prior to initial surgeries, the groups were numbered as followed:
Group O: 15
Group L: 15
Group T: 15
Initial surgery group was comprised of 7 of group L. Three deaths occurred, either during surgery are during post surgery recovery. The remaining totals are:
Group O: 15
Group L: 12
Group T: 15
Despite the losses, Command has ruled that obtaining more subjects is unacceptable. A reprimand of the Surgery branch was issued shortly thereafter. Further, we are expected to produce a working prototype in each group before the first of **. Orders have been acknowledged, but a request has been put in for additional staff and equipment. Request is pending.
Summary: Final obtainment of subjects for testing Project **** prompted initial testing, leaving 3 dead. Surgery has been reprimanded, and orders for a prototype by date 114.**.0*. have been issued.
-End Log
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Frustrating, huh? Honestly, the whole thing looks like a bunch of spooks ran through it with some digital fucking scissors, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers. Besides, maybe I'll get lucky and some of the other ones will be actually have the names and dates of who the fuck all these people are and just what they're doing. I mean, it's pretty obvious what project **** is, given that I was one of those fucking fifteen, but I still want to know more about what happened during the whole thing. Particularly given that there was nowhere near forty-two of us by the time they actually brought me back to consciousness.
I wonder how some of the other folks that managed to make it out are doing.
-End Long
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Log 049 - B
Log 049 - B
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: Awesome
-Corp: Vacatiooooonnnnn.
Right. So, while dealing with Chime for a day was tiring but interesting, Kaz is...something else entirely. Still just as tiresome, mind you, but in a vastly different direction.
For starters, he's Caldari. While my Gallentean education taught me that this makes him inferior scum that I should immediately stab in the jugular the second I see him, I managed to resist the impulse long enough to learn that he's not inferior because of his heritage, but because his k/d ratio is better than mine, and clearly he's been gaming the system somehow. Bastard. But yeah, heading off to Caldari space was...tricky, given that I was essentially a Gallentean mercenary seeking access to space owned by the empire my former one is at war with, but liberal application of ISK lubed up the process fairly well, and it wasn't long before I managed catch a transport to his station. After a bear hug that I'm fairly sure could've killed an actual bear, we stopped off at his place for him to change clothes (he'd been working out, which explained both his colossal physique and rank stench) before heading out onto the town.
Now, I imagine it depends on where you live, but Gallente society is pretty fucking focused on materialism. Or at least I thought we were, until we traveled into a commercial area on this station and I pretty rapidly realized that we had a looot to learn about being a bunch of consumerist whores. I was bombarded with more neon advertisements than in a red light district, and I'm only half-sure I didn't suffer some kind of seizure from their blinking in tandem. I actually wound up being mildly grateful that most of the areas I fight in are nowhere near like this, if only because the simple act of locating an enemy would be damn near impossible in such a shitshow.
But I'm getting off track. Whereas Chime wanted to go shopping for most of the day, Kaz wanted to go...shopping. Not for makeup and girly clothes, though that arguably would've been even more interesting than doing so with Chime, but mainly for new weapon accessories and guns. Unlike most of the mercs I'd dealt with, Kaz had been interested in weaponry and the military before being implanted, due in no small part to a capsuleer relative he kept in contact with. Ara..Ama..Amakato, I think his name was? Ara...something, maybe. Anyway, he'd maintained an interesting in warfare long before getting an implant, but had been smart enough to realize that enlisting would've likely meant pissing away the one life he'd had. Instead, he had opted to become some of a military enthusiast, learning about tactics and weaponry from across the four empires as well as indulging in a crazy amount of war-themed vids and games.
Had I heard all this coming out of the mouth of anyone else, I'd have likely called them fucking crazypants. It sounded halfway similar to the survivalist bullshit you hear from the nuts on Gallentean vids that claim the Jove are coming to exterminate us all but it's okay because they're in a bunker with a bunch of water and protein packs and other food! But, given that Kaz tended to lug around HMGs and forge guns for my own benefit and actually had a similar understanding of placement and tactics to my own, I wasn't about to say anything; As far as my own perspective was concerned, he was simply a hobbyist that managed to take his leisure activity to the next level, along with getting paid for it. So..good for him. Bad for everyone he points one of those giant fuckers at, but good for him.
At any rate, rather than looking at eyeliner and dresses for three hours, I instead got to learn about scopes, trigger guards, proper gun cleaning and handling, and all sorts of other shit we don't actually have to consider out on the field. Aside from technique, most of what I was taught was more along the lines of proper handling and reloading, though the latter is easily the most idiot proof bit of the guns they sell us anyway. It wasn't the most enthralling lecture I've ever been given, but it was still pretty interesting to learn about the civilian models of some of the shit we use out in the field, along with the actual mechanics of how they work. Not that I'll ever likely need to learn how to eject the chamber of a duoville hunting rifle, but I suppose it's not like I've got anything more interesting to learn about, and Kaz was way too enthused in his explanations for me to turn him down.
Still, even he could only go on for so many hours about his favorite guns, and that's when we went out for a bit of food and drinking. I'm not normally too big on booze, but every once in a while I'll make an exception, and as it turns out, when Kaz takes you drinking you make a big fucking exception. Five hours and an extreme amount of liquor later, the two of us had gotten fucking plastered. I'm fairly sure that the amount of synthetic Caldari booze I imbibed would've had me branded a smuggler if I'd tried to leave their space, to say nothing of how much of that putrid shit Kaz managed to chug down, but thankfully it wasn't so much that I wasn't able to stumble my sorry hide back to Kaz's place while also providing a shoulder for his giant ass to lean on. Being the sophisticated lady that I am, I somehow got his ass back to his bed before crashing on his couch, knocking over a glass figure and I think something else in the process.
The morning after was a mixture of bizarre and unpleasant. Despite downing enough beer to kill a regular man roughly two times over, the experience gained from building up a tolerance for the stuff left the effects of a hangover on a relatively low scale, leaving him to wake me up with a smile, more or less. I was not quite so lucky, and just thinking back to that godawful morning leaves me with a mild headache. A quick shower and some coffee left me feeling slightly better, but by the time I departed I was still a fairly large wreck. Thankfully, the rides home were pretty quiet, and I was allowed to pass out once again upon getting back home.
So that was my vacation! Shitloads of makeup, dresses, lectures about gun handling, and a hang over large enough that I could probably wield it out on the field. Not too bad for someone with only a couple friends, though I have been left wondering what I'd go do with people if someone actually tried to visit me. Get them some coffee, probably.
-End Log
-Author: Rinas Rylos
-Rank: Awesome
-Corp: Vacatiooooonnnnn.
Right. So, while dealing with Chime for a day was tiring but interesting, Kaz is...something else entirely. Still just as tiresome, mind you, but in a vastly different direction.
For starters, he's Caldari. While my Gallentean education taught me that this makes him inferior scum that I should immediately stab in the jugular the second I see him, I managed to resist the impulse long enough to learn that he's not inferior because of his heritage, but because his k/d ratio is better than mine, and clearly he's been gaming the system somehow. Bastard. But yeah, heading off to Caldari space was...tricky, given that I was essentially a Gallentean mercenary seeking access to space owned by the empire my former one is at war with, but liberal application of ISK lubed up the process fairly well, and it wasn't long before I managed catch a transport to his station. After a bear hug that I'm fairly sure could've killed an actual bear, we stopped off at his place for him to change clothes (he'd been working out, which explained both his colossal physique and rank stench) before heading out onto the town.
Now, I imagine it depends on where you live, but Gallente society is pretty fucking focused on materialism. Or at least I thought we were, until we traveled into a commercial area on this station and I pretty rapidly realized that we had a looot to learn about being a bunch of consumerist whores. I was bombarded with more neon advertisements than in a red light district, and I'm only half-sure I didn't suffer some kind of seizure from their blinking in tandem. I actually wound up being mildly grateful that most of the areas I fight in are nowhere near like this, if only because the simple act of locating an enemy would be damn near impossible in such a shitshow.
But I'm getting off track. Whereas Chime wanted to go shopping for most of the day, Kaz wanted to go...shopping. Not for makeup and girly clothes, though that arguably would've been even more interesting than doing so with Chime, but mainly for new weapon accessories and guns. Unlike most of the mercs I'd dealt with, Kaz had been interested in weaponry and the military before being implanted, due in no small part to a capsuleer relative he kept in contact with. Ara..Ama..Amakato, I think his name was? Ara...something, maybe. Anyway, he'd maintained an interesting in warfare long before getting an implant, but had been smart enough to realize that enlisting would've likely meant pissing away the one life he'd had. Instead, he had opted to become some of a military enthusiast, learning about tactics and weaponry from across the four empires as well as indulging in a crazy amount of war-themed vids and games.
Had I heard all this coming out of the mouth of anyone else, I'd have likely called them fucking crazypants. It sounded halfway similar to the survivalist bullshit you hear from the nuts on Gallentean vids that claim the Jove are coming to exterminate us all but it's okay because they're in a bunker with a bunch of water and protein packs and other food! But, given that Kaz tended to lug around HMGs and forge guns for my own benefit and actually had a similar understanding of placement and tactics to my own, I wasn't about to say anything; As far as my own perspective was concerned, he was simply a hobbyist that managed to take his leisure activity to the next level, along with getting paid for it. So..good for him. Bad for everyone he points one of those giant fuckers at, but good for him.
At any rate, rather than looking at eyeliner and dresses for three hours, I instead got to learn about scopes, trigger guards, proper gun cleaning and handling, and all sorts of other shit we don't actually have to consider out on the field. Aside from technique, most of what I was taught was more along the lines of proper handling and reloading, though the latter is easily the most idiot proof bit of the guns they sell us anyway. It wasn't the most enthralling lecture I've ever been given, but it was still pretty interesting to learn about the civilian models of some of the shit we use out in the field, along with the actual mechanics of how they work. Not that I'll ever likely need to learn how to eject the chamber of a duoville hunting rifle, but I suppose it's not like I've got anything more interesting to learn about, and Kaz was way too enthused in his explanations for me to turn him down.
Still, even he could only go on for so many hours about his favorite guns, and that's when we went out for a bit of food and drinking. I'm not normally too big on booze, but every once in a while I'll make an exception, and as it turns out, when Kaz takes you drinking you make a big fucking exception. Five hours and an extreme amount of liquor later, the two of us had gotten fucking plastered. I'm fairly sure that the amount of synthetic Caldari booze I imbibed would've had me branded a smuggler if I'd tried to leave their space, to say nothing of how much of that putrid shit Kaz managed to chug down, but thankfully it wasn't so much that I wasn't able to stumble my sorry hide back to Kaz's place while also providing a shoulder for his giant ass to lean on. Being the sophisticated lady that I am, I somehow got his ass back to his bed before crashing on his couch, knocking over a glass figure and I think something else in the process.
The morning after was a mixture of bizarre and unpleasant. Despite downing enough beer to kill a regular man roughly two times over, the experience gained from building up a tolerance for the stuff left the effects of a hangover on a relatively low scale, leaving him to wake me up with a smile, more or less. I was not quite so lucky, and just thinking back to that godawful morning leaves me with a mild headache. A quick shower and some coffee left me feeling slightly better, but by the time I departed I was still a fairly large wreck. Thankfully, the rides home were pretty quiet, and I was allowed to pass out once again upon getting back home.
So that was my vacation! Shitloads of makeup, dresses, lectures about gun handling, and a hang over large enough that I could probably wield it out on the field. Not too bad for someone with only a couple friends, though I have been left wondering what I'd go do with people if someone actually tried to visit me. Get them some coffee, probably.
-End Log
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