Broken Earth-Closed

Who knew walls could hurt so much

I had guests today! Well… maybe not guests so much as uninvited visitors, but Mr. Pickles was excited to see them. Alas i was unable to experiment on them due to a minor… OK major miscalculation with the wall. I thought the one with wings would get through in only a couple swings so i was going to surprise her for destroying my precious wall and all. It pains me to see my wall in such a state, it was like a father to me.

I don’t really remember what happened after that except for Dr. West patching me up. That dude is crazy, his crotch talks… I must investigate and obtain this skill for myself. For science…probably….maybe. They set off my traps and blew up my precious house when all they had to do was ask if they could come in.

All they had to do was ask…

Dammit Mr. Pickles that isn’t a toy get down from there!

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At least it wasn't the legs...

Why is it every time Ashe hits a landing pad, she picks up a new batch of strays? Can’t she ever just resupply and move the fuck on? This time it was another Dog Boy and a lunatic with one metal arm, and another arm with some kind of device. Both arms seemed to do a lot of flailing, either way. The other Dog Boy seemed grim enough to have been through a fight or two, but judging by the longarms on his back, nothing up close. He’s quiet, though. I appreciate that.

Oh, and apparently, we’re now into picking up strays from outside the fabric of reality as well. Some big pale bitch with an axe just appears inside the ship just after takeoff. Ashe, being Ashe, just kept on like it was normal.

For the first time in six months, I had to listen to someone who actually talks as much as Tecca. AND TECCA DIDN’T REALLY TALK AT ALL. Seriously. New people on board, and Tecca was unbelievably quiet. Of course, then Mr. Flailybits starts going on about how his sleeves are alive or some shit. Woohoo.

So, once again, I find myself in the wonderful position of sitting on a crowded ship with another gaggle of Short Term Contracts. Only this time, it’s not some treasure hunter or vendetta-seeker. Apparently, the other Dog Boy, I think his name was Syrup or something, I wasn’t really listening. There was still some spider-goo in the PMP’s barrels. Every time I think I got it all, I find more. I swear, that gun’ll never be clean again.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, Syrup had some shit to do. Long story short, we pull up on a Coalition facility to wait to ambush a prisoner transport, but, [sarcasm] and here’s the real surprise, [/sarcasm] shit went wrong. People got shot at, but I didn’t get to help ‘cause after OUR PILOT decided to leave the ship, I was the only one there to keep an eye on ’er. In the end, we got the guy we were after. Some spaghetti-noodle-lookin fuck by the name of West that says he can make an inoculation against Rift Sickness. I’ve heard some Dogs say stupid shit like “I’d give my right arm to not get these damnable headaches.” Well, now I get to say that I GAVE my right arm. He better make it worth it.

Though I’m not likely to say it, I’m kinda glad little Moon decided to stick around.

Oh, and Commander Grey was there. That was fun.

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Friday 2.17

Quote:
“Someone turn ground on!”

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When Fear Awakens

Hell.

I don’t think there’s any other way to describe it. Oh sure, it was called ‘The Nightmare Realm’, whoopty-shit. It was Hell. If it was a nightmare, I would’ve woken up. I would have snapped out of it the moment I felt pain, but I didn’t. The pain just kept going. And going. And going.

And when I couldn’t take any more…

…it didn’t stop.

Whatever that thing was, it wanted me. It wanted me and knew how to take me. It knew how to track me, how to hurt me, and how to scare me. It knew everything in my life that I had buried. Every piece of fear, every bit of regret, every last tiny drop of sorrow I had, it knew. And it used. The moment I dropped that tan nudist fuck off, I knew I’d made a bad choice. “Whatever,” I thought, “it’s for the team.” And it was.

That didn’t help.

Vichama went running off into the snow while I tried to jump back. Then I tried again. Then, I met the worst fear I’d ever experienced in my life up to that point, and trust me, I’ve had some doozies. But it didn’t stop there. Every single moment I spent in that place got exponentially worse until I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. I know there’s a moment where the fear got so bad, I lost the ability to think. I always wondered what people meant when they claimed to have experienced an event so bad that it was like it wasn’t even happening to them. Like it was some event that they were just watching like a shitty movie with no happy ending. Now I know. When I hit that point, found that place, when I was dragging my own broken body across the ground, I lost thought. I wasn’t planning, I wasn’t looking for options. I was a lost little child in desparate need of escape from something that couldn’t be stopped. Once I got to that point, there was nothing I could do but watch myself struggle and cry and beg for an end. It was like watching it happen to someone else.

I realize now that it was that bad because it wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to be there. All the terror and pain and suffering was meant to happen only in my dreams, but I was there. I could be hurt, but I couldn’t die. I could run, but I’d never escape. It was all of my worst nightmares at once and there was not a god damned thing that could happen to make it stop.

Hell.

That’s what it was.

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