Pasted

G's Journal. 04/14/6543
 Day two in this little town, "Salem". I knew that the places outside the Megacity would be quaint, quiet, peaceful...
I could live out here... Get a dog, start a farm. Maybe herd some cows for extra money...
Sure, I'm young. Probably a little naïve. Actually, very naïve.
But I'm young. Nobody can take that but the man in the office. And there's no offices around here...
 Gonna see If I can chat up some of the locals for work before I decide to spend what I've got left from getting here.
Maybe I can sell some of the tech I've got for room and board in the meantime...
-G.
 G's Journal. 04/16/6543
 Got myself some work, finally. Took what felt like forever, but I've convinced the only Tech-Archivist -goes by "Cogs"- here to let me sort his miscellaneous and defunct or outdated tech so it can be sold for scrap or repurpose.
It's not extravagant, I'm basically a garbage sorter...
But It's the only work that will pay me extra due to hazardous material. Everything else is... Too risky. And I don't have a Hazard-Suit for that kind of work.
Cogs told me there was a run-down library on the opposite side of town next to the lake. I know where I'll be going this weekend. Maybe there's a few good books still left? Who knows?
 I don't think Cogs meant that as a friendly informational tidbit...
Did he call me a Lesser?
...Not like I can tell him to keep his opinions to himself. I need money. And he's the only one offering work that won't kill me...
-G.
 G's Journal. 04/20/6543
 I've got to say; this town shows me more with every passing day...
I met a girl at the library that Cogs mentioned, calls herself "Vulba".
Bright red eyes... Short and messy black hair... Wears a heavy red poncho. Makes her hard to spot against the rocky Plateaus here.
Not a scrap of tech on her. Not even a Holo-Eye. And I thought I was the only one...
At first she was kind of aggressive. Said the library wasn't for Cableheads, probably saw my compass...
She scoffed when I told her wasn't modified. She said it was "Unlikely".
 The face she made when she realized I wasn't kidding was priceless.
Gonna see if I can track her down later...
-G.
 G's Journal 04/21/6543 1/2
 That Vulba girl is a wild creature. She knows this town like its part of her soul. Found me at Cogs' place while I was pulling a Gauss-Piston Assembly apart.
She thinks I'm some kind of Machine-Priest I think...
I'm just good at hardware-related things thanks to my time at Crowley's. 'Ought to shoot him a letter sometime... Old-fashioned, Just the way he taught me.
Back to the girl...
 She wanted to show me something, but Cogs wouldn't allow it. Had to finish the shift- I get it. Gotta make a dollar, so do I...
I'll finish my day here and then wander off to the library, she said she'd be there.
-G.
 G's Journal 04/21/6543 2/2
 Vulba has a completely assembled Material-Driver with a Gauss-Boosting module...
I've only ever seen the diagnostic blueprint Crowley had at his shop. But I recognized it right when saw it...
I think the cows can wait a few years...
Of course I had to ask her where she had it hidden, since Mass-Produced Material-Drivers were damn-near impossible to get.
She slyly told me to ask a different question. That smug cat.
 She explained to me, in perfect detail how the entire assembly works- She's a genius!
...I never wrote any of it down.
Well. I can ask her about it tomorrow, after I'm done at Cogs'.
-G.
 G's Journal 04/22/6543
 I swear, Mondays are out to get me.
Last week it was a raccoon eating my saved rations while I was trying to sleep- and then biting me.
Today? Oh nothing, just dropped my brand new working gloves onto a spill of Corrosive Ferro-Oils that Cogs didn't bother marking from his work yesterday.
Yeah, the gloves are toast. Cogs doesn't take care of his damned shop at all.
I can't wear Paper-Mache when working with material that will literally melt my flesh and bond with my bones...
Sleep for dinner... I need new gloves, plus; I ate well for lunch today, I'll be fine. What's one more hungry night anyway?
I'll have to buy more gloves tomorrow... Hopefully I can talk the clerk down a few credits... Those gloves were a full two-days wage...
 I didn't see that Vulba girl in town today... Like usual. Always tomorrow I guess...
I'm starting to wonder if she even lives in the town's boundaries?
She always appears -and disappears- like a ghost...
-G.
 G's Journal 04/24/6543
 I could kiss this girl. I really could.
She gave me- GAVE ME- new gloves. Said she had a few extra pairs.
Before I could even ask her where or how she gave me an answer I never thought I'd expect out of some border-town...
"Cableheads don't care about the little guy."
She's right as well.
Cogs is over half-machine. Probably over a hundred years old. It's unnerving to look at him. Even just a little.
Vulba, though? She's a gem. A Ruby.
Of course I asked her how she knew I needed new gloves... "A magician never reveals her secrets." S'what she told me.
 Am I thinking about her normally? I don't think writing my thoughts down about her in this journal is wrong... But something about it doesn't feel right.
-G.
 G's Journal 06/02/6543
 I thought I had lost this damned Journal, I really did. Cogs had it, said he found it by the storehouse.
The way he held my arm when he handed it back... I think he's read some of the pages, if not all of them.
I wouldn't be surprised If he's read the whole thing. Bionic eyes and a half-machine mind.
Going to look for someplace else to work. Getting tired of pulling scrap apart with these sore fingertips.
Cogs can shove it, he won't buy tools for me, and I'm not going to spend what I don't have.
-G.
 G's Journal 06/03/6543
 That bastard Cogs was reading my journal from the second I met him.
How do I know? He told me, right after he shot me with a Material-Driver. Then he called me a Lesser -to my face- before leaving me to presumably die.
I thought the damn Tech-Utopic Fascists were holed up in the Megacity spires but I guess I was wrong.
Are their offices really not enough for them? They step on us "Lessers" every single day and they still aren't satisfied. I left the Megacity to get away from these... Cableheads.
I swear I'm going to kill him with my bare hands.
I can barely walk with this cauterized hole in my leg... The burning hurt... But this situation hurts more.
-G.
 G's Journal 06/04/6543
 He shot her. Right before I could stop him.
Cogs. He shot Vulba right in-front of me before I could stop him. He's a lousy shot though. Hit her shoulder, missed her three other times. Left shoulder I think? I don't know, she ran off into the wooded canyon behind the Lake.
She always ran back there when it got dark out.
She's a survivalist, a real skilled one. 'Told me her folks were too, that explains why I never see her in town...
 Cogs is dead. Good riddance... Tech-Utopic Fascist- Cablehead.
 Managed to wrestle him onto the ground before he could follow up the first shot with a second effective one...
I won't go into the details... But he's no different than the scrap back at his shop.
I need to gather my things and head Vulba's way... She'll find me before I find her. I hope.
Can't stay in Salem now that I've killed the only Tech-Archivist around for a few-hundred miles...
 So much for starting a farm...
I'm pretty bitter about that... Angry. Really angry.
-G.
 G's Journal 06/05/6543
 We found eachother.
Well, it was more of a mutual stumbling-into. She said I'd probably have wandered past her hideout If I hadn't caught her out and about, looking for herbs.
And I am really, really glad that our paths crossed then. Because I absolutely would have stumbled past this...
She's got a bunker out here- a genuine, honest-to-God bunker. One of the Tech-War ones. A Valung-EG5 type. That explains why she had that Driver... These things were built to hide their inhabitants from pretty much any kind of prying eye and store an arsenal... If I was a betting man, I'd say the Valung Corporation forgot where this one was. It'd be pretty Ironic. They were big on surveillance and tab-keeping when the Tech-War was in it's infancy...
 It's hard to ignore the pain coming from my leg... But It's not infected... That's good... Still, I wish I had reacted quickly enough not to get shot at all. But, better the leg than the chest. Need to stay positive.
I am stupidly lucky that the Driver-Slug didn't hit my femur, or that huge artery...
 Thanks to me, Vulba's shoulder is patched up... I used the last of my sanitary alcohol to clean her wound. The round just grazed her, left a nasty wound, but still...
Well, hers is definitely going to heal faster than mine.
 There's a surprising amount of space in the sleeping quarters, a twelve-person room. Vulba says I get half of it now...
After all that... I wouldn't be surprised If I sleep all day tomorrow...
-G.
 G's Journal 06/07/6543
 One day of rest later and I'm proving my worth to Vulba. Got no choice really. And I mean really.
Way better than working for Cogs though. By leagues. I take stuff apart, Vulba instructs me in reassembly and repurposing, shows me how to do it, explains how and why it works, I explain as best I can the stuff I know, rinse and repeat.
And of course I write the steps down. She's got a lot of empty books in here...
 And there's no highly-corrosive chemicals! Well- There's a few. But nothing care and attention can't handle.
 Who knew being a fugitive would teach me how to strip and reassemble a Coil-Gun in a forgotten Tech-War Bunker?
Well. I guess nobody.
 Vulba's taken a shine to me it seems...
Seemed to start when I lost my journal that handful of weeks ago. She's also taught me how to fly-fish.
I knew I was slow but... Am I really that slow? With people- not fishing. I think I caught that fairly quickly.
...The lures are weird, though.
Well. I guess I'll find out if she ever reads these pages...
 I'm glad there's a river-fed pond just outside this bunker. Wish it was a lake though...
-G.
 G's Journal 06/12/6543
 This is going to be a long entry... Hell, might be a full page.
According to Vulba; there are whole communities of Vagabonds out here. Networks of bunkers and tunnels.
Of course I asked her "Why not live in a larger community?" She said she prefers the quiet. Can't blame her, in all honesty.
I Hope I'm not disrupting that quiet...
 But the mention of the bunker and tunnel networks made me realize a couple things...
 One: Crowley, that crazy old War Veteran, was talking truth during his drunken ramblings. When he'd drink himself half to death, wailing on and on about the horrors of the Tech-War... He'd babble about all kinds of -frankly unbelievable- things. Massive Artillery-Walkers the size of Citadels... Bristling with cannons... "The thunderous bells of annihilation cry out for us..." He'd say that in his sleep... A lot. Other things as well... but I digress.
 Two: There's a real chance that the Tech-War never ended... It's just on hold. Nobody's shooting each-other right now...
But that's just it- Nobody is shooting at each-other... *Right now.*
If word in Salem gets around that some Techless-Vagabond -myself- killed the only Tech-Archivist for a couple-hundred miles...
That could break the peace.
 But that's just it- Did anyone see me? Was I being watched by a survey drone? Am I in the background of some obscure photo??
 It's a low chance. Astronomically low. I think... Salem is small, the townsfolk kept to themselves for the most part... Never saw a Survey-Drone... But what if a Survey-Drone somehow finds this bunker- not even this one! There's- I don't know how many exist, there could be thousands- the Tech-War lasted a few hundred years... It turned into a siege... The cannons just... faded.
 If my extremely paranoid suspicions are correct; I can't go anywhere from this point forward without potentially endangering other people out here. Especially if I run into a Survey-Drone... The Tech-Utopic Fascists never overlooked a thing when their rule over the Megacity was threatened...
 I don't want to be the cause of something I can't control...
But I may have already cast the die...
-G.
 G's Journal 07/04/6543
 It's getting hard to keep track of time in this bunker. Life is pretty uneventful down here, save for the daily back-and-fourth questions. 
Vulba says getting comfortable around me being here took shorter than she thought. The first night was rough... But the following days and nights weren't so bad, I think... I snore, apparently. But Vulba doesn't seem to care.
 I've been asking her a lot of questions. Questions about the bunker, the surroundings, the other vagabonds. Anything I can think of that isn't too personal... Well... When you live in a bunker with one other person for any extended amount of time you catch onto their routines fairly quickly.
Vulba's shoulder seems to have healed in record time... Lucky cat.
 She knows little about the bunker's origins, so we traded knowledge there. Crowley was a Subcontractor for Valung, and I worked for Crowley. Lots of hand-me-down knowledge. Lots of hands-on experience...
 I owe that man a drink.
I hope he's still alive...
-G.
 G's Journal 07/08/6543
 Monday. Always a freaking Monday. I swear this day hates me.
I wake up, it's one in the morning, and I've got the worst headache I've ever had in my life.
Felt like someone hit me over the head with a pipe...
I checked myself, all over, no abnormal markings on my head, neck, legs, stomach, chest, shoulders or arms- Save for the scars. I've heard stories about people dying from red lines that crawled from their wounds to the heart.
I'll be damned if I let a little crayon-line take my life. That's for sure.
 I didn't wake Vulba up during that process, I think... She shuffled a bit, but that was it.
The sound of her breathing was easy listening. Put me back to sleep pretty quickly...
 Nothing interesting happened during the day. More of the same. Needless to say I've gotten used to this. I just wish I could walk around without a cane... "Old Man Gus" Vulba joked at me.
It was a good joke. I'll need to think of a comeback later...
 I guess my time at the pond really makes me look old, the way I'm constantly slouching my shoulders.
But it really is this stupid cane. Twenty-six is way too young for need of a cane...
 G's Journal 07/10/6543 1/3
 Vulba woke me up early yesterday. Said we're going on a trip to the nearest Trading-Hub.
A very casual Two-Hundred-and-Forty miles... All by Airboat.
 It took us seven hours. Vulba says she's only had to make this trip a few times before. I can't begin to imagine how mind-numbingly boring that must have been... -Don't get me wrong, Airboats are awesome- But a seven hour trip, all by yourself? With a fan to your back that could turn you into Lasagna Slices?
 No thanks.
 I'm writing this at 9:40AM in a rented room Vulba and I bartered for. The Trading-Hub reminds me of the sub-levels of the Megacity. Dark, grungy, full of shady characters. I need to look around for a Weaver's Shop. Get myself a Poncho like Vulba's. I'm getting tired of these sweat-stained t-shirts...
-G.
 G's Journal 07/10/6543 2/3
 Walking around the hub has made me realize two things...
One: I don't miss the cluttered streets of the Megacity one bit.
Two: I forgot my cane at the bunker...
 I'm not trading a damned thing for another cane. That'd be a waste. I'll just hobble around. My leg doesn't hurt that much anymore, it's just important I keep weight off of it as much as I can.
 The Weaver's Shop was easy enough to find. Sparing the details and mundane; I've got a poncho, new belt, new boots, new shirts, new pants. Even a Belt-Satchel. All for half of what I originally expected. Phenomenal.
 There are other shops as well; a Gunsmith, Blacksmith, Machine-Priest, even an Alchemist. All crammed into a little round-about surrounding an underground freshwater spring... Lots of signs posted about the place, most of them warnings: "Don't swim, lest ye be hanged."
 I'll say this much: Anyone crazy enough to swim in a place like this probably never saw a lake before...
I'd be a fool if I didn't buy this Slug-Driver from the Gunsmith. It's pretty measly, but the shooting-range -as cramped as it was- proved it's got a punch to be respected.
 Shady place like this? Better safe than dead.
-G.
 G's Journal 07/10/6543 3/3
 There's an old watering hole in the Trading-Hub. Should have guessed to be honest. How else would this place be standing? Pure trade? Fat chance. I checked it out, not a bad selection. Lots of seedy characters though. And plenty of faces not worth trusting. I left just as quickly as I came...
 I'm writing this as of 7:22PM. Rented room isn't far, but I swear I can feel someone following me. I've been in enough untrustworthy places to keep looking around, subtly of course. A glance here, a head-turn there. The occasional shoulder-check. I haven't made any direct eye-to-eye with anyone potentially following me yet...
 I hope Vulba knows this place better than I do...
-G.
 G's Journal 07/11/6543 1/2
 Woke up extremely early. 3:29AM. Five hours of sleep isn't too bad... I suppose. Vulba made it back to the rented room last night before I fell asleep. I was tossing and turning before that... But she made it back safe and sound. I was relieved...
 We talked for a while when she got back. She said we can make another trip south for some two-way personal radios, since there's no Tech-Trader here. I'll admit, the idea of going further south concerns me with all the "shopping" we've done. That dinky Airboat is going to be loaded...
 I'm not arguing though. Especially after last night's events she has a solid point. We need some way to communicate when we're not close-by to one-another.
 ...I pretty much admitted to Vulba that I felt guilty for not being with her when she was out and about... As I've come to understand: she's usually pretty reserved. Which made the hug a huge surprise. She held on for a while- I don't think she's actually had any kind of meaningful interaction with anyone besides myself for years...
 If that's the case... the feeling is mutual.
-G.
 G's Journal 07/11/6543 2/2
 Pretty much the hour Vulba woke up we were back on the Airboat. A much shorter trip though. Only about two hours. Maybe three.
 Never in a million years would I have thought I'd run into a familiar face outside the Megacity. Karl Vanak. An Diesel-Mechanic apprentice I met during my time under Crowley -I officially owe that man more than one drink- is way out here. Of course we were way younger. He was fourteen I think? I was barely a year older.
 Of course we got to talking right away, we recognized each-other pretty much immediately. Turns out he left the Megacity a few years before I did. Took two years to get out here. Granted it was a lot of walking. It took a bit of mutually-conscious effort to cut the conversation short.
 Vulba seemed to be equally surprised with Karl. Probably because he also didn't participate in tech-enhancements. That doesn't surprise me at all though. He's big on engines and hates bodily modification. "Hate" might be a strong word for it, but he's definitely negatively-opinionated on the concept...
 Finding the two-way Radios Vulba and I were looking for was easy, Karl directed us to the Tech-Trader.
 G's Journal 07/11/6543
 We were followed...
 I was *mostly* joking in my previous entry's about being a fugitive. One of the shady faces from the previous Trade-Hub followed us out here- how? No idea. Why? Said I've got a bounty on my head...
 Of course he started to monologue. So I took advantage of that- I asked him what kind of bounty, of course I extrapolated from the encounter that it was related to Cogs -the Tech-Archivist that I killed in self-defense- this fella proved me right when he said the bounty was from the Salem Tech-Archivist board.
 That means two things to me...
 One: Cogs had some kind of surveillance on me both when I worked for him, and when we fought.
 Two: My face is absolutely being advertised around Salem's bounty-boards...
 I guess It's time to stop shaving, and grow a beard.
 One shot is all it took. Of course, a lot of people came running, Vulba was one of the first on the scene, I called her up right away... Good thing we got those radios. Thanks Karl.
 I figured out pretty quickly that Karl is this Trade-Outpost's law. But he's not willing to turn me in to the Tech-Fascists for any price. He actually announced that anyone that shares information about me isn't welcome at the outpost and needs to leave... So of course there's a lot of mutual respect and honor involved in our friendship now.
 He took Vulba and I back to his place for the night. We got to talking and of course I asked him about Crowley -I never got the chance yesterday- Karl said he's still kicking. Still in the Megacity, though. After a bit more talking both of us agree that it's unlikely that Crowley will stay, since the Tech-Fascists will probably be looking for people acquainted with myself...
 I hope the old man's ahead of the curve...
 Before everyone retired for the night Karl pulled me aside, told me; "Cableheads don't care about the little guy."
Vulba told me that...
 -G.
 G's Journal 08/11/6543
 It seems that the shady individual from yesterday was the exception to the rule out here. This minor outpost that Karl's got is full of like-minded people.
 Nobody uses tech-enhancements on their bodies, everyone keeps to themselves. Hell, there's a few people who actually removed their own tech-enhancements. I've heard its a painful process though. Going under doesn't help, because whatever addition's interface is linked to your nervous system, so it feels like you're tearing your own arms off without painkillers - for instance.
 (WIP)