critical-insanity

[critical-insanity]

Adrian’s Travel Log #144

It’s day 1 of roaming the wasteland following that catastrophe out at Badwater. Octoburary 30th, 2167. Prior to that incident, we had been on the road for 143 days straight.

Insanity and exhaustion are starting to set in. My back feels like gritty sandpaper, and my legs are killing me. This is the only moment of solitude we’re going to get for a while, so I might as well take this time to write down our descriptions.

My name is Adrian Handforth. I used to be a Soldier for Mann Co. before the… well, event. I’m the leader of this minuscule group of people traveling this hell of a planet, and the only man here, it seems. My life has been utter hell since the bombs dropped. I don’t see any outcome where this shit gets better.

There’s this lanky zoned out looking fella who I can only guess used to be a Scout. Seemed upset when I called them a he, and looked at me stern when I called them a she, they seem to prefer neutral pronouns. Weird. They seem to enjoy being with other people, and they’re a damn good shooter with a sniper rifle. Kid’s got this robotic visor over their mouth that they say makes them “feel comfortable”, whatever the hell they mean by that. Won’t tell me their name, but they seem to go by “Roadie”. We used to beat people up for saying that when I was a kid. And honestly, I wish I still was…. wait, what was I writing about?

There’s this bumbling maniac in a gas mask who acts childish and seems to have a liking for the lanky kid. She gave me a note recently, and the only text written was the name “Beth”, so I’ll assume that’s her name. Based on her appearance, I can only assume she was a Pyro before. She’s a goddamn nut case, maybe even more so than Roadie…. maybe that’s where she got it from? Seems like she can’t read, which is unfortunate but common in this day and age. She always has a double barreled shotgun on her, which makes interactions with other people very hard. Honestly, sometimes I wish that she would either leave, or die. She makes our expeditions hard as shit, and she’s an overall pain in my ass. Sure hope she doesn’t learn how to read.

Lastly, there’s this secluded former Scout who hides her face and never speaks to anyone, not even the other Scout here. She said her name was Rose, if I recall correctly. Despite having a masculine appearance and voice, she, unfortunately? identifies as a woman. I think they called those people “transgenders”? Whatever she is, she’s goddamn terrifying. She uses a sword that I’m sure has a higher kill count than the bombs caused… I think the reason that she likes to be alone is because she has a mental illness. She shakes her hands around randomly, Roadie calls it “stimming”… She also seems to hyperfixate her attention to minuscule or strange things, maybe she has autism? Whatever the case, she’s likely the only other sane person here besides me. I really hope so.

There were many other folks who traveled with me before, but they’ve all either gone their own ways, or have been killed by the wasteland’s unforgiving atmosphere. These three nutjobs are the only ones who have survived longer than a few months, they’ve been with me for about 9 months now.

Anyways, that concludes this travel log, even if it wasn’t about traveling. This log, like the others, will be attached to all future logs in the event of my untimely death, so that any future travelers may identify me and my crew and what we did.

Some advice for you travelers, don’t look the wanderers straight in th-

*The rest of the paper from here on is ripped off. None of the other logs mentioned were found with this one.*