Doc says Rawr!

Amaeren Colby Decker is a character in the Torg universe created by West End Games.  This page includes the entries of her journal starting from sometime in July or August of 2008 until present time (later entries are dated).

I’ve decided that they’re all completely insane. Utterly, totally, completely and irrevocably insane and God only knows why I’m still running around with them because I certainly don’t. Sometimes, I just want to put a scalpel through my eye, so little of my life makes any real sense these days.

In two months, I’ve seen more horrifying, terrifying, utterly insane things than I thought I would see in my entire career. My career. Which, I’m thinking is already over or never going to end. I’m leaning toward the latter, honestly. The odds of me ever making it back to the States are slim to none, if the States even still exist in any sort of recognizable form anymore, and signs are definately pointing in the direction of a big fat no on that count. Everything–every word that came out of there, all of it–makes me believe that none of us really have a home to go back to. Everything is different–wrong, maybe? I don’t know that there’s anything we can do to fix any of it, if it can even be fixed. And I know for a fact that there’s a whole crock of shit that’ll jump up and down in the way of actually fixing things.

I’ve begun to definately question my sanity. I wonder if maybe this is just some huge nightmare that I just can’t wake up from. Might be easier to take if it was, but something–again–tells me that it’s just not the case. Too much (pain) tells me it’s just not the case.

I find myself wondering if my mom and dad are all right, if the rest of the family’s okay. I’m still not sure where Teddy is. Guess maybe I’ll never know, but I could end up surprised. After all, some crazy British chick (excuse me, Aylish chick) apparently associated with Ace, so I guess anything’s possible. She said he’s in Philly. Wonder if I’ll ever find out if that’s true. I guess even if it’s not true, it’s nice to know that he was okay up until a couple months ago. Even if that was a couple months ago and not, y’know, yesterday.

A few weeks later

I’ve decided that Japan is the land of conspiracy theories and I don’t like it (and not just because they were growing the frakking Rikyoto out of the hydroponics equipment! Frakking brown scaly monsters!). Everything is just too clean, almost sterile, hiding the festering wounds, the rot beneath. But we could smell the stink–I could, anyhow.

I just wish that they’d been brainwashing people, like I thought they’d been, rather than using them as mulch (frakking Japanese getting into bed with the frakking technodemons!). I’m starting to hate being three quarters right. I really am.

One of these days, one of these little volunteer exercises (missions? Assignments? Exercises in destroying my sanity or broadening my horizons? Bah), I’m going to snap. Or actually try to get knocked unconscious (though I wasn’t trying to this last time…I’m not going to lie to myself and pretend that it was unwelcome, the whole getting knocked cold by a glance from Rei’s ex…lover? Something. I’m almost glad that I haven’t fraternized with anyone since Mac at Annapolis!). One or the other, anyway.

God, though, sooner we get the hell out of Japan the happier I’ll be (I can’t get the smell of drywall out of my nose, no matter how much I sneeze). It’s not the place I remember from when I was a kid (What is, though, these days? Nowhere, I’ll bet). When I was a kid, there were at least trees, and no plants driving any power armor.

God, it occurs to me that if anyone finds this thing after I’m gone they’re going to think I’m crazy and made this shit up.

Unless it’s another–gah, what’d she call them? Storm Knight? I think that’s it. If another one of those finds this…well, at least they’ll learn something. And maybe not think I’m crazy, or was crazy, or something.

Maybe. Possibly.

Or I’m right, this isn’t real, just some kind of crazy nightmare I can’t escape, which is equally likely. Just not sure.

I think of the guys I left behind sometimes, of the ones who died since the world changed, too. I remember a chilly June day when we buried Lucasi (God, it was cold for June–couldn’t have been more than 55º and it rained for a week straight. Had to bury him twice, rain washed out the grave after the first one). I think about Peter, too. Hope he’s okay. He was pretty far from the affected zones from those stelae, though, so he’s probably fine. It’s just lonely sometimes now. I was in the field too much to really get to know anyone at the new base very well–socially, at least. We all knew each other’s work. That research, I’m afraid, will never be finished. I’m beginning to think that may be for the best, though. The list of bad things grows the longer I’m away. I’m not sure if that should frighten me or not. Maybe it’s both. God only knows.

At least it’s been more than confirmed to me that the pope is crazy–beyond reasonability kind of crazy. A little sad, I think, but I suppose there’s not a whole hell of a lot to be done for it, is there? At least not for most. For most (well, I doubt anyone’s lives are still usual but still) it’s all about business as usual.