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bharkness1 favorited AW: Chippewa, Population: 202.
AW: Chippewa, Population: 202.
over 1 year ago
Amphiprison created the adventure log post Well, that's that.
StalexS favorited AW: Chippewa, Population: 202.
SearchingStones commented on the adventure log post Retrospectives for 11/14!
falkreon commented on the adventure log post Retrospectives for 11/14!
Last Updated: over 1 year ago
Play Status: Completed
Retrospectives for 10/10!
Retrospectives for 10/31!
In the beginning I was shocked and appalled. My righteous indignation burned against the brutish, bigoted, ignorant, savage, troglodytes and barbarians of this holding. I was incensed by their audacity to call this place a society. Rules are arbitrary and enforced with ever – present threats of violence. Power is wielded by the few most violent, intimidating, and selfish. The men demonstrate a nearly pathological lack of compassion and empathy, whether for neighboring clans, or for their own women and children. This despicable place, overrun with deplorable people, vexed me to no end. I had hoped to set a better example, while simultaneously isolating myself from the depravity of this place.
…That was, as I previously mentioned, in the beginning. As is the case with any one outpost or holding, we will not be here forever. My time here is finite. I realize that it was a waste of my resources to even attempt to properly engage these people; especially their leader, Vega. Any amount of thought spent on improving their situation merely reduced thought spent on my research and own survival. It is imperative that I survive. It is imperative that my acquired body of knowledge and experience survive. It is imperative that my lineage survive, intact and unsullied. Trying to reason with sadistic brutes, trying to instruct or set an example, does nothing to further these imperatives. As of this hour, I no longer care. As of today, I am no longer wasting the effort.
Leaders who are not worthy of my respect will not have my respect. Men who are not worthy of discourse or productive interaction will be ignored. Savages who wantonly use violence shall also be subject to violence. Those who deserve to die will not receive the benefits of my medical expertise. As of today, my primary objective is simple; keep my research, knowledge, life, and genetic potential intact.
Addendum: Vega’s illness does not appear to be caused by a typical pathogen. I was unable to culture a bacterial, viral, or fungal colony. In addition, I detected atypically-folded proteins in his blood. I need to conduct explorative surgery on his brain to identify any potential sources of the phenomena, or complications arising from them. Despite having originally requested treatment, the patient has willfully discharged himself from my care. His actions put not only his own deteriorating health and life at risk, but also risk a holding-wide outbreak. Since I am unsure whether the illness is communicable and, if so, what its mode of transmission is, he may be jeopardizing the lives of every man, woman, and child in this holding. Am I dealing with another symptom (impaired judgment), or is he simply being an irrational, irresponsible, ignoramus? Until such a time that he consents to further treatment I cannot know, nor do I care.
Vega felt the cool air brush by as he crested the wall. It was a relief from the oppressive heat during the day. Old Nonno said the weather was different when his grandpa was boss. His descriptions were often confusing, even contradictory accounts of the Good Old Days. But his tales were not a sign of senility – no, Vega knew better, even when he was young. His family had always been stronger than other people, and craftier. Hell, Nonno taught Vega his letters. Nonno’s fond remembrances resembled the old religions, in a way. They didn’t have to worry about contradictions, because they were a truth more pure than simple worldly perceptions.
Vega felt a twinge of excitement as he spotted movement in the darkness – he was here! The assassin that Char had called, the one Vega had seen in his dream! A shot pealed out, reverberating through the darkness, a howl of thunder and fury. The dark figure beyond the walls dropped lifeless mid-run, everything else still. Grunting with satisfaction, Vega clicked the safety on his SKS M59 and slung it over his shoulder. Moving quietly, but powerfully, supporting his own weight, he lowered himself back down the pulley.
It was hard to fathom just what had happened the past couple days. Was this whole sickness just another trick from Char? What reason could she have to suddenly start plotting like this? It went against Reason. Against Sense. That must be it then, he realized. She has, perhaps knowingly, perhaps unknowingly, brought Chaos here. The Maelstrom. And then, in his time of need – weakened, strapped to a table and delirious, he had suddenly felt the Divinity settle upon him. This indeed was his purpose! All this time, watching the horizons, wondering about Nonno’s teachings. It was finally happening!
Of course, Char would have to be dealt with. Dealt with most severely. Vega spat and grinned as he walked back to his building. Well what are we, carefucking bears? Vega had surrounded himself with the dirtiest, most vicious hyenas he had ever seen, short of the Greenman (who never did see Reason). “It’s time we paid Nipples a little visit,” the voices whispered gleefully.
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