The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge

The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Printable Version

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The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 10-05-2016

<<<Initializing audio log feed>>>

<<<Adjusting volume levels>>>

<<<Name: Death Warrant>>>

"Date? September, Fourth day. A Tuesday. 823 A.S., my what... Sixth day or second week as a Congressman? I lost track."

"If anyone can hear this, don't expect this to be consistent or really very pleasant to listen to."

Violent coughing can be heard in the background, as well as the sound of the user pounding his chest in an effort to clear the supposed congestion.

"Christ, figures. I get congested at this hour of the night. Things aren't too pretty, had a run in with some unknown Kusari vessel, who got angry with me because I dared travel on her secure territory with the rest of the boss' convoy. Not to mention my friend finally revealed herself to the guy looking for her. Not her best work. Blue's still roaming elsewhere, haven't really spoken to it since.... Ever. I didn't sign up for this giant blazing hunk of irradiated scrap pulled right out of Omega-41."

More coughing and chest slapping ensues.

"At least the MND chose to be unusually understanding and actually gather intel rather than demand the boss' convoy to drop their cargo or they get shot. That's something new, an intel branch not going full pirate on us and actually desired an explanation rather than gunfire and cloaking devices. Nomad incursions increase in number at Puerto Rico, from what I've polled, it's always been about the Rift, our resident proto-black hole. Thing's a magnet for all sorts of weird junk. Everyone wants a slice of it, saying it's unnatural, all that jazz. Well, a slice of that and Ari."

The user breathes deeply for a few seconds, before resuming.

"How do I put this... Ari's someone who is very heavily desired by an unknown party that has contacted me and the Congress on 2 different occasions. This guy wants Ari so bad that he's willing to get my friends killed to get at me, in order to get to her. That's how bad he wants Ari. Now she's revealed herself to him over communications channels and has basically given herself away, location and contact info-wise. So much for a former Lane Hacker, huh? Ah, well. At least I can get my brain shoved into a Gammu-built cruiser, if I pay enough and wear their IFF tag. More guns always works, I hope. Same with her, too. She'd probably be more.... Simple to transfer, for reasons I am not willing to specify."

"I've pretty much spewed my stream of consciousness in it's entirety, I'm gonna sleep."

The sounds of a chair creaking as the user gets up is heard, as well as footsteps.

The footsteps are interrupted by the sound of a metal object being dislodged from it's original
location at high velocity, impacting a body in it's trajectory.

What follows is the sound of a body slumping to the floor.

In the distance, a muffled honk can be heard.

<<<Log End>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 10-06-2016

<<<Initializing audio log feed>>>

<<<Adjusting volume levels>>>

<<<Name: Haze>>>

The user sits, as exclaimed by a chair creaking in protest of their weight.

"I feel followed."

The sound of a glass bottle being set on a table is heard, before the user resumes.

"Everywhere I go, it's Nomad this, Nomad that, ever since that trip into Kansas with Cory. I always keep seeing them, too. Their speech continuing to lurk at the back of my mind, like an itch I can't scratch."

"So here I am, with a Daumann side-arm, a bottle of gin, and my coherence slipping. Insomnia, too. I keep checking back over my shoulder, only to see stacks of cans and the occasional bike horn littered around the inside of every ship I own."

"I keep getting this image in my mind. Various groups put a bounty on my head for saying too much or defending the wrong people, ending in being cornered and shot, passing as the target of many others, a plague."

"That's not the troubling part. It's the fact that I always see how it was my own hand that killed me."

"I need some sleep."

The chair, protesting again, is relieved of the burden that it had to carry. The user proceeds off into the background, before a hatch bursts open, and the user is buried under a pile of cargo, all the while spewing obscenities and cursing one 'Chen.'

In the distance, a muffled honk can be heard.

<<<Log End>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 10-23-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: Voices, I can't hide.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

[Image: NPC_wmask_b.png?version=83a806e07c42c0d0...182493a189]

Silence is heard for the first 10 minutes of the log, as the pilot simply stares at the camera, holding his head.

"Well, here I am. Gibbering madness one moment, trying to make sure I'm not completely forgotten the other. Sirens. I hear the sirens. They won't stop. Alcohol helps shut them out, though, only barely and briefly. I know I haven't updated this in a while, though, that's because contemplation hasn't been a terribly common practice recently. Ari's gone, taken, her last sound? Click. A singular, unceremonious click. The ship's under new ownership, a Bretonian from a long line of Mollies, hasn't given me his name yet. His speech is unique, to say the least. He knows of the prior owners and the effects of combined long-term Nomad exposure and trauma, shared over exploration and obtaining Azurite Gas. Said effects as well as the fact that I appear to have caused some fairly major political strife has caused me to genuinely consider resigning for the sake of them not having to deal with the turmoil that comes with my presence. It also hasn't helped that participation in the defense of New London from a Nomadic incursion seems to have intensified the mental effects I have experienced."

The pilot begins consuming Liberty Ale, consuming approximately a quarter of the bottle before continuing.

"Ari, Cory, if you can hear this, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to end up like this."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-06-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: No control.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

The pilot faces the camera, the mask giving off a blank, emotionless gaze.

"She slipped right through my fingers."
"I had her, right then and there. Omega-52, UNS-Revenant."
"It kept sending SOS signals in Morse, that should have been my first clue."
"The captain of the Revenant kept denying it was Ari, just kept saying 'It's the ion storm.'"
"Eventually, we drew the attention of two SCRA Typhoon-class Destroyers."
"After the encounter with the Revenant, one of the Destroyers felt the need to escort me out of Omega-52, we stopped to pick up a load of Volgograd Ordinances, in order to mend any potential relation damage caused between the Congress and Revolution."
"I notified the captain of the Typhoon that the Revenant entered Omega-52 from Omega-58, and that he should inquire concerning Ari, not mentioning her by name, of course."
"Ari, if you ever hear this, I'm coming for you."
"We'll see each-other soon."
"I hope."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-11-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: Acceptance.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

The pilot walks to sit in the captain's chair of the vessel, mask a more bleached white than prior, though, a few dried flecks of blood can be seen, despite the notable bleaching.

"I... I went over the edge."
"Lost, confused, and frightened. They took me in, despite all of my past transgressions."
"Trespassing, murder, and grave-robbing."

The pilot begins to laugh hysterically, for a few moments.
He then begins to lower himself to a more... Sober condition.

"So, bleeding and confused, I finally managed to wrench this thing off."
"... I'm starving."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-13-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: Status.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

The pilot faces the camera, the brownish-red, rust-like flecks on his mask are dull, and largely scratched out. Hidden, is a smile of contentment.

"They call me 'Child,' or 'Carrier.'"
The pilot shrugs, before continuing.
"Can't say it doesn't fit, I have much to learn, and carry one."
"This one seems to have a... Sense of humor, so to speak."
"Decided to cause my diaphragm to spasm in front of several Liberty Navy vessels.
The pilot rolls his head and taps the lower sections of his torso, around the Xiphoid Process of the Sternum.
"Regardless, I'm now inseparable from it."

"Incubi produce Cardamine, it seems. Something that was sorely unknown to me, until embracing."
"Looks like I'm the Vagrants' eyes and ears. For now, at least."
"I'm going to love my new job."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-16-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: The end.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

"Misplaced trust. That's how I die."
"Say the wrong thing, and they tell that to the Order."
"I'm tired, and I dread to hear from anyone."
"If I make another entry, it's either a miracle, or this book is closed."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-17-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: A double-edged sword.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

"I did say if I made another log it would be a miracle."
"It is."
The pilot gets up, stretching. He sits down, a brief lavender light can be seen flickering behind the mask.
"Other than the Order divulging that they know, they're rather lax for knowing who I am."
"I honestly expected them to show up in Omega-55 today, telling me I have 5 seconds to run."
"There's one minor issue, though."
"My benefactors have been oddly quiet."
The pilot shivers, before continuing.
"Dread begins to make itself apparent, as I have to explain myself to them."
"I hope for the best."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-22-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: Unfortunate circumstances and incompetence.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

"Kill me."
The pilot makes several different gestures, indicative of suicide.
"Because, thanks to the glories of hindsight, I've come to realize that... Well, I'm brutally incompetent at nearly every single task I do."
"Join Congress, cause large amounts of political turmoil just from the way I act and speak. Become the eyes and ears for an alien collective, manage to blow my cover."
The pilot then proceeds to start clawing at the back of his head.
"And now, not only do I feed information to the Order just by being at the wrong place at the wrong time, I get shot at by other Nomads for next to no real reason, and this thing's sense of humor just kills it for me."
The pilot starts tapping the center of the mask with his middle finger's knuckle.
"We gotta shape up, or get lost in the dust."
The pilot shrugs briefly.
"Get a name change, eh? Why not?"
"Just gotta think of one."

<<<LOG END>>>

RE: The Audio Log of a Bullet Sponge - Typrop - 11-22-2016

<<<INITIALIZING AUDIO FEED>>>

<<<INITIALIZING VIDEO FEED>>>

<<<LOGTITLE: Identity.>>>

<<<LOG BEGIN>>>

The pilot can be seen rubbing the area of the mask where one's mouth traditionally would be.
"Well, I did it. Ship designations changed yet again. This time, it's in reference to the ancient Terran species of fish, Barrel-Eye Fish. I thought it fit."
The pilot experimentally tugs at the mask, it does not respond or give way.
"Anyone that speaks to me in public, I insist they refer to me as 'Scraps.' I need to make up for my failures somehow. It just so happens that assuming a false identity is one method of doing so."
"Kapheira, if you can hear me, I won't be so open this time."
"I promise."

<<<LOG END>>>