Oct 17, 2025
Log 7: Rations
our petition for better energon rations got denied again. megatron said we should “feed off ambition.” sir i’m trying but it’s not very filling.
seen from Spain
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seen from Vietnam
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seen from Singapore
Log 7: Rations
our petition for better energon rations got denied again. megatron said we should “feed off ambition.” sir i’m trying but it’s not very filling.
Log 7. 10/27
Good news! 2b has agreed to communicate. This is the conversation, transcribed;
“So…” The scientist began, Lucas didn't recognize him, “can you tell me your name?”
Lucas nervously chewed at his nails, “Lucas” he muttered.
The scientist creased his brow, “do you know your name here?”
“That is my name…”
The man across from him on the floor just shook his head and wrote something down on his clipboard.
“Do you know how you got here?”
“Where is my brother..?”
“Do you know how you got here.” the scientist repeated.
Lucas curled in on himself, and brought a hand up to head. It was almost hidden by his hair, but he felt it. It wasn't there before he got here, before Claus turned into that. He never woke up anymore.
“2b.” The scientist's words snapped Lucas out of his trance.
“...there was a forest fire…” Lucas went back to biting his nails, “and my mom…”
“And?” The scientist pressed for more, but Lucas wasn't ready.
“I don't…” Lucas just shook his head.
“Alright, we don't have to talk about that.” The scientist wrote down some more things on his clipboard, before looking back up at Lucas, “tell me about yourself, how old are you?”
“I'm… seven.” Lucas curled into a sitting fetal position, wrapping his arms around his legs. The scientist wrote something down.
“What about your family? Who do you live with?”
“My dad n’ mom… and my brother, n’ my dog.” Lucas internally shook off any thoughts of them, he didn't want to think about that right now, not now and not ever. The scientist wrote something down.
“Do you have any friends?”
“Fuel… and Nana.. and… Claus.” Lucas wondered how they were doing, wondered when Claus would wake up. The scientist wrote something down.
“Could you stop?” Lucas asked, and the man looked up from writing.
“I'm sorry?”
“I don't… I don't like the noise,”
The man just raised an eyebrow, before putting two and two together, “you don't want me writing?”
Lucas shook his head.
“Well I need to keep track of our conversations, would you rather me type it?”
“I don't… I don't know what that is… I… I'm just so hungry.” Lucas grabbed at his hair. It was all too loud.
“Right… well-”
“Please stop talking, you're too loud.”
Past this moment 2b would not respond to any more questions. Some interesting points I would like to bring up is his lack of knowledge of the term ‘typing’. Porky had told me this time was behind us on a technological scale, but I wasn't expecting it to this degree. Besides that, it seemed to have gone well.
Tomorrow is another day.
So, I'm sure you're not really supposed to play favorites, but which servants do you like the most?
[Log 7 - Favorites]
Kazue: No need to call me out like this…!
Abigail: Heehee.
Edmond: Would you like more coffee, Master?
Kazue: I— I-I’m alright, thank you…
NEVERMIND I'M NOT GOING. Today I learned that it can storm radiation. I hate it. It's my least favorite thing in the world, and now I want to get out of here even more. I basically had to run back to the ship while my radiation meter was just going up and up and up--it basically DOUBLED by the time I was inside, and it was already bad! So I'm staying in the ship. I'm gonna work on fixing what I can while I'm stuck in here, because there's no way in hell I'm stepping outside in that.
Log 7
Days without communication: 1
Days without crying: 0
It's so sad. It seems like the universe only grants us a couple of seconds to be together. Only a couple of centimeters away, so close, so far...it's like we're inside some kind of coffin, begging for air while we slowly suffocate, looking at each other through a small window. Our souls bleed, because sometimes music is not enough, sometimes love is not enough and we plead for being able to touch our skins, our lips beg to be together, burning out slowly. Faith is a strong light. But this will never stop being difficult. We won't stop crying ourselves to sleep while listening to our songs, betting we can feel each other behind our backs around our waists...
For how long...?
November 17, 2025: Log 7
knitted more for december market
1hr-ish evening walk
today's art
The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson
The book opens with a guy getting a gun modded right in to his skull, meanders through fairytale in an interactive book and ends with an underwater nanotech-carrying orgy. What a ride. And through it all, the book carries the tale of a young girl and her coming of age story with such tender grace while a world of mirrors and violence unfurls around her. Her mother doesn't want her, the brother who cares for her gets robot-induced TB, and through quests both internal and external she becomes the princess her interactive book - The Illustrated Primer, narrated by a very dedicated Miranda - promises her she has always been. It's a book of the possibility and pitfall of technology, of the connection of story and education and the power of nurturing those who are so often overlooked
Sleeping With Sirens - How It Feels To Be Lost
I put this on to build some energy so I wouldn't fall asleep too soon, and needed to be comforted by a familiar voice. I had heard a few songs off this album before, but not the whole thing in full. It was an easy listen, both energetic and comforting, but far from what I would consider the best or a memorable SWS release
I don’t remember writing this. But it’s in my hand. I found it in the altar floor. Wet. Screaming. It was screaming and it still is. I think the hymns learned how to bleed. I think I swallowed one. It’s been humming in my teeth ever since. I tried to ask them to stop. But the choir smiled. Their mouths had no lips. Only tongues. And scripture. "WHERE WERE YOU?" they asked. "WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THE GRAVES STARTED WHISPERING?" I answered with my marrow. I bent my ribs into words. They read it wrong on purpose. — I begged them not to write back —
YOU ARE MY WAY OF L̸̨̟͓̅́͊̄̊̈́͆͛͌̀̑̅̚͠I̸̢̢͔̗̟̜͈̰͍̳̯͎̝͌́̔ͅͅF̷̯̝̐̈́̉̀̂̆̔̋̈́͘͝Ë̴͚̲͙̹̥͈͈̜̺̗̘̩͕̮͘ I wrote their names on the walls in: teeth, nails, and breath. Now the walls are writing back. . . . Don't follow the sound. It isn’t singing anymore.
bunny feels: catharsis