Holotape of the Damned: Moonstone

{Log Entry #[Damaged, Irrecoverable]}
{Time Index: 0714}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Audio Recording=

"It's been a long time since I left tha' mountain. Left all th'pones I ever cared about. Hell, I don't even think I c'n remember th'way back anymore. Not sure 'ef I'd want to . . . "

/silence/

*snnrkt*

*sigh*

"Nah. No peint in thinkin'bout it now, I s'pose. S'not like anypone there abouts is still kickin'. Fakkin' bleedin' hearts, e'rey single one of 'em. Not a brain t'think b'tween any of 'em either."

/static/

{Recording damaged. Skipping to next available section.}

/static/

" . . . w#/n ya figger I got m'self inta /static/ th'first place. I didn't have much choice. Th'damn blasted bird jes wouldn' /static - - -/ so's I turned and told it off. Left me right sick fer a few days, havin' that many rads jes floatin' around in m'body without no meds t'take away th'sting."

/silence/

"Next thing y'know, here I am headin' west t'mam's homeland. Said I c'd find it somewhere beyond th'borders out past /static - - -/

{Recording Damaged. Skipping to next available section.}

"Dunno how much longer this perticular tape's gonna last. Th'recorder's pretty fakked too. Need  t'see about searchin' tha' /static - - -/ . . . nderful. Jes fakkin' great. *sigh* All th'trouble I went to t'lose th'damn thing annit followed me all th'way here."

/silence/

"Prolly shouldn't even be doin' this right now. Th'bugger might hear me if this piece o'junk starts spittin /static - - / . . . una above! Th'fak was that thing?!"

/heavy breathing/

"Th...tha...fak it. Fak this!  Fak th'bloody damn striper it rode in on! No /static/ worth this much trouble! I'll find m'own . . ."

/recording cuts out/

{End of Log}

{Log Entry #15}
{Time Index: 2322}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Playback=

"So...I think I found a better recorder than m'last one. Spent half the day scroungin' in the dumps outside o' this new place I came to 'bout a week ago. They call it "Diablo Canyon". Fittin' name, ef yer'askin' me. Th'locals seem nice enough, but they couldn't help me fix m'old recorder. Lost all but one log entry. Figgers...was th'one about tha' damnable phoenix."

/silence/

"Ef there's one day I wish I c'd ferget . . . it'd probably be tha' one in perticular. Er' since tha' day, I been watchin' over m'shoulder, jes t'see if th'fakkin' thing is still followin' me. Caught sight o'some tracks near an old megaspell launch site th'other day...think it might be around somewhere."

. . .

"Speakin'o'which...tha' megaspell...still seems active. Might wanna try n'see ef I c'n figger out what kind it is. I doubt it's anythin' super-special. Not like m'gonna find a balefire bomb just lyin' 'round. 'Specially not here. Them's striper weapons. Chances o'findin' one o'them puppies is about zero t'get fakked."

{End Log}

{Log Entry #72}
{Time Index: 0056}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Playback=

"Jes found out tha' I'm missin' more logs. Dunno what about these things makes 'em so touchy. Maybe it's all th'rads nearby. Th'town ain't exactly paradise, after all. But, in any case, good ol' Fort Diablo is still up n'running, thanks t'yers truly. Looks like we're gonna be in business fer a while here."

{End Log}

{Log Entry #73}
{Time Index: 0841}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Playback=

"Ugh...been sick now fer 'bout...what? Two weeks? Can' even r'member. Think it was tha' one striper that came roamin' through town a month or so back. Locals call it th'Zebrican Sleepin' Sickness, er somethin' like tha'. M'only awake fer a coupla'minutes errey few hours er so. Jes enough t'get some eats n'use th'hole."

*snnnnnfffffff*

"Feel like a train wreck. C'n hardly move most o'th'time. Had t'have Chief pull m'bacon outta tha' ant fight th'...no. Fak, memory's goin' t'th'hole too...that was weeks ago."

*coughing*

"Ah well. Th'fort's in good hooves fer th'time bein'. Think I'mma get back t'sleep."

{End Log}

{Log Entry #86}
{Time Index: 0001}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Playback=

". . . don't b'lieve it. Not a coupla hours after I finally buck this sickness...n'Chief's dead. Jes...gone. Jes like Red. Stripes says she went peaceful like...but I don't b'lieve 'er. She's a fakkin' striper too, even ef an okay one, I s'pose. But it don' matter no more. This place shown its true colors. Even when it ain't yer fault...it's yer fault. Kill or be killed, jes like anywhere else."

/clattering of unknown objects/

"M'packin' m'things n'gettin' th'fak outta this canyon. Don't care ef it's mum's homeland...still reeks o'unjustified death. Maybe I'll head back t'Questria. See ef th'pasture's gotten any greener since I left. I doubt it...but at least back there, I knew what was what. Knew who t'trust."

"I don't trust anypone here. Don't know ef I c'n trust anypone anymore. Not after this."

/silence/

"M'sorry Chief. Sorry I wasn' there. But...I'll leave y'somethin' special anyway. Jes so's y'don' get lonely over there, eh?"

{End Log}

{Log Entry #92}
{Time Index: 0456}
{Date - #######}

=Begin Playback=

"Well...I traveled far n'wide. Left th'canyon behind. Er so I thought. Seems I can' escape it no matter where I go. Ef I knew it was gonna be this hard t'get away, I'd've never set hoof there in th'first place.

Found a new town called Tumbleweed. Figger'd it was as good a place as any t'set up shop again. Not that I had much t'set up with. Used up ninety percent o'th'stuff I left Diablo with on the trip back t'Questria. Got m'self a nice, cozy, dark cargo container. Put up m'mixin'tables n'chem drawers. Jes settled in when who pops in but Tough Love."

/silence/

"Not sure whether er not t'count m'stars that at least I got one friendly face t'look at. Then again...I might have more, ef I wanna start believin' in some loony-toon's story. Names 'Lessia. Nice lookin' girl, fer sure. Seems t'be a decent enuff sort. Crazy as all get-out tho.

Dunno how she learned th'name...but...an' fergive me fer bringin' this up, may y'rest in peace...she thinks she's Chief. Says she has a way t'convince me, too. Now, ef I were a bettin' pone...I'd say that Tough's tryin' t'pull some asinine prank on me. Bugs knows how much Chief meant t'me. I don' think she's th'kinda bug t'feed on somepone's hopes...but y'never know.

'Lessia did try her damnest t'convince me when we met in th'parkin'lot o'th'grocery store in the nearby city ruins. Can't says as I b'lieve'er though. Didn't get enuff t'speculate on."

/sigh/

"Definitely worth lookin' inta though...if not t'find out tha' she's right...but t'found out if she's lyin', 'an put th'hurt on anypone who'd disgrace tha' name."

{End Log}