I've gotten maybe four hours of sleep in as many days. There's this insane, huge-ass roaring noise coming from somewhere on the station. (Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, must have had some bad chili.) It almost sounds mechanical, like gears grinding, but I can't think where we stored a couple eight-hundred-ton gears. It's keeping me up at night. And the rest of the crew, too, except Nosemeal, who's basically in a coma. I don't think it's any kind of medical issue; he's just locked down from fear.
And Iron Man's been returned to us. He looks, uh, not that bad, actually, except for one tiny little flaw in the overall image of perfection. His eyes. They're gone. Not clean empty black sockets where his eyes should be like you see in the movies, but like someone took a chainsaw to his skull and ripped out his eyes. The scary part is, from what he's frantically mumbling and the way his hands are trembling, I think he gouged them out himself. Meaning that there's some serious shit hitting some serious fans right now.
Huh. Maybe the noise is coming from a big old fan?
Red October, over and out.
Showing posts with label Nosemeal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nosemeal. Show all posts
2 July, 2011, 10:58 CDT - Tricks and Traps
It's been a tenday since I posted, but not because I blacked out. Iron Man has completely disappeared. All our cameras are shut down and the only thing we're getting by way of communications is static. Nosemeal is laying in his bunk, curled up and whimpering. Bonesaw and Curry Fan are about as calm as I am - or should I say sane? But they're devoting their attentions to keeping this hunk of junk metal running. Lastly, Top Notch is trying to get in contact with someone. That leaves me to look for Iron Man.
We know he's still on board, because things are being moved and food being eaten that the rest of us didn't do. There's also the matter of this weird guy in a suit possibly being around, but I'm not sure that he's not just a figment of my imagination. I've asked Bonesaw, Curry Fan, and Top Notch, but they swear they've never seen him. Nosemeal is too panicked to talk, and obviously I can't question Iron Man.
Sheesh. I always wanted to be an astronaut, but holy fuck...Я не подписаться на это.
Red October, over and out.
22 June, 2011, 18:21 CDT - Recovery and Righteousness
Yesterday was the summer solstice. The longest day of the year.
We got something.
All that lost video - well, actually, most of it is still lost. But yesterday, at around six in the afternoon, Curry Fan dug deep enough into the systems and pulled out a file. The tape's timestamp was for six o'clock exactly. It lasts for about ten seconds. It starts out in complete blackness. Cuts to the moon. Didn't look like a familiar area to me, but I haven't been on the moon. Someone else has, apparently.
Yeah, that's right. Some fucker was standing on the fucking moon. Or that's what it looked like, anyway. Camera didn't give a clear shot, so it honestly seemed more like an ink smear than a person. But I could've sworn that it was some guy wearing a suit.
And fucking Nosemeal's praying for salvation.
Red October, over and out.
We got something.
All that lost video - well, actually, most of it is still lost. But yesterday, at around six in the afternoon, Curry Fan dug deep enough into the systems and pulled out a file. The tape's timestamp was for six o'clock exactly. It lasts for about ten seconds. It starts out in complete blackness. Cuts to the moon. Didn't look like a familiar area to me, but I haven't been on the moon. Someone else has, apparently.
Yeah, that's right. Some fucker was standing on the fucking moon. Or that's what it looked like, anyway. Camera didn't give a clear shot, so it honestly seemed more like an ink smear than a person. But I could've sworn that it was some guy wearing a suit.
And fucking Nosemeal's praying for salvation.
Red October, over and out.
30 May, 2011, 12:43 CDT - Gloom and Gluttony
Yes, I ate your last chocolate truffle, Top Notch, but to be fair I didn't know it was yours and they are really good. Do you know how long it's been since I had a chocolate truffle? Or chocolate of any sort? Nine. Months. A whole nine months. Девять fucking месяцев! I could have had a kid in the time it took for me to find and eat a chocolate truffle.
The shadows around here are screwing up. Sometimes they're not there at all and sometimes everything looks like a spider or the branches of a dead tree and sometimes everything is covered in shadow. I'll be honest - I'm a little scared. Burning up on reentry? No big deal. Getting disconnected from the space station? Might be a fun trip. But shadows, man, shadows...these shadows. I'm not scared of the dark or anything, but these shadows are...they're something else.
Most of the computers are still pretty fucked up but I've scavenged a single scrap of video from the junk pile, as it were. All it shows is a dark trip through the halls of the station and about half a second of some guy in a suit. Again, I showed it to Nosemeal and he told me he doesn't even own a suit. He says the last time he ever needed one was for his father's sixth wedding - about six years ago, actually. I was there, too. Man, was that a fun night. I remember getting drunk as all hell and riding on the chandelier until it fell and set everything on fire. Damn. I wish I could have nights like that out here.
But that's right - we don't have nights at all.
Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, is telling me there's something going on with my bunk. Not telling me literally, but there's a security feed here and even though it's dark as, well, outside, I can tell that there's something there. I'll check it out, I guess.
Red October, over and out.
The shadows around here are screwing up. Sometimes they're not there at all and sometimes everything looks like a spider or the branches of a dead tree and sometimes everything is covered in shadow. I'll be honest - I'm a little scared. Burning up on reentry? No big deal. Getting disconnected from the space station? Might be a fun trip. But shadows, man, shadows...these shadows. I'm not scared of the dark or anything, but these shadows are...they're something else.
Most of the computers are still pretty fucked up but I've scavenged a single scrap of video from the junk pile, as it were. All it shows is a dark trip through the halls of the station and about half a second of some guy in a suit. Again, I showed it to Nosemeal and he told me he doesn't even own a suit. He says the last time he ever needed one was for his father's sixth wedding - about six years ago, actually. I was there, too. Man, was that a fun night. I remember getting drunk as all hell and riding on the chandelier until it fell and set everything on fire. Damn. I wish I could have nights like that out here.
But that's right - we don't have nights at all.
Platinum DJ Bentley D, MC, PhD, King of Games, is telling me there's something going on with my bunk. Not telling me literally, but there's a security feed here and even though it's dark as, well, outside, I can tell that there's something there. I'll check it out, I guess.
Red October, over and out.
23 May, 2011, 20:30 CDT - Chess and Chafing
It's not quite what you think.
I twisted my ankle on the spacewalk. Don't ask me how, but I did. It's lucky I don't have goddamn hemophilia or I could be dead by now. No, twisting your ankle does not automatically constitute bleeding, but I was bleeding anyway.
On to the more important part. Just before I went to sleep last night, there was this really tall guy standing over me. I couldn't really see the details, but he might have been wearing a suit. Judging from the build I had guessed it was Nosemeal, but when I asked him about it the next day he told me it wasn't him. I asked the others and Iron Man suggested that it was a magical being from another dimension.
Fuck that. Science > magic any day.
If only my dad could see me typing that...he's rolling in his grave right about now.
All our data is still gone, by the way. Even the backup disk I installed got wiped. So we're basically screwed.
Red October, over and out.
I twisted my ankle on the spacewalk. Don't ask me how, but I did. It's lucky I don't have goddamn hemophilia or I could be dead by now. No, twisting your ankle does not automatically constitute bleeding, but I was bleeding anyway.
On to the more important part. Just before I went to sleep last night, there was this really tall guy standing over me. I couldn't really see the details, but he might have been wearing a suit. Judging from the build I had guessed it was Nosemeal, but when I asked him about it the next day he told me it wasn't him. I asked the others and Iron Man suggested that it was a magical being from another dimension.
Fuck that. Science > magic any day.
If only my dad could see me typing that...he's rolling in his grave right about now.
All our data is still gone, by the way. Even the backup disk I installed got wiped. So we're basically screwed.
Red October, over and out.
16 May, 2011, 20:47 CDT - Fussiness and Fun
Apparently I can't even roll out my punishment right. Iron Man has told me I should be using our call signs instead of our real names, so I've gone back and fixed that.
In better news, I found that deck of cards. They had gotten wedged behind one of our ansibles. No, we don't have faster-than-light communications - that's just what I like to call it, ever since I read Ender's Game. Although, now we don't have a rubber band to keep them together. In even better news, I beat Nosemeal, Bonesaw, and Curry Fan in a game of poker. Since we weren't actually betting anything, Iron Man's fine with it, which is good, or else I'd probably be the one punished and the others would get off scot-free. Not that I'm bitter or anything. I deserve it. I'm an asshole. And these guys are my crew. My friends. If they didn't do shit, why shouldn't I be the one in trouble? Besides the obvious fact that these punishments are ridiculous.
I had a dream last "night" where I just sank right through the walls and floors and floated out into space. Eventually I hit the sun and burned up. For a split second before I caught fire, the stars above me made a constellation that looked like an old, dead tree.
Red October, over and out.
In better news, I found that deck of cards. They had gotten wedged behind one of our ansibles. No, we don't have faster-than-light communications - that's just what I like to call it, ever since I read Ender's Game. Although, now we don't have a rubber band to keep them together. In even better news, I beat Nosemeal, Bonesaw, and Curry Fan in a game of poker. Since we weren't actually betting anything, Iron Man's fine with it, which is good, or else I'd probably be the one punished and the others would get off scot-free. Not that I'm bitter or anything. I deserve it. I'm an asshole. And these guys are my crew. My friends. If they didn't do shit, why shouldn't I be the one in trouble? Besides the obvious fact that these punishments are ridiculous.
I had a dream last "night" where I just sank right through the walls and floors and floated out into space. Eventually I hit the sun and burned up. For a split second before I caught fire, the stars above me made a constellation that looked like an old, dead tree.
Red October, over and out.
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