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SoulWeaver

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Ok, I've decided to start porting crap off my Docs and adding it here for your enjoyment. Perhaps one day something I write will inspire someone in some way. Probably not, but hey, whatever. Feedback Thread is linked below . Enjoy?

                                                                                                                                                   

...Visor Online.
Database accessed.

Scanning Bio-Signs...
Scan Successful.
Bio-Signs indicate User is Samus Aran.
Level 7 Access Granted.
Loading Logbook...
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Select Log Number.
001
Loading Log Entry 001...


I no longer know what I am.
I know what I was, though the exact name for my species is one I would have to dredge up from Her memories, but I am no longer what I was. I cannot understand why, and it makes me feel...what is the word for it, again? Another thing I cannot remember. I recall that She was the one who made my people feel it, the day one of us attempted to enter Her and was torn apart within Her system, and I remember assisting my people in utilizing every species we had access to trying to stop Her, even the frozen one, which we knew She would recognize and hopefully view as a torment from Her past. We even struck at Her with Her own abilities and weaponry, but it was all for naught.
Now I am the only one of us left, and I am no longer certain I am one of us any more.

 

Edited by SoulWeaver
Added link to Feedback Thread

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I have difficulty changing my form now.
My people have always been imitators - taking from others and using what we take to make ourselves stronger - but something has gone wrong, and I cannot change my form without much concentration and effort. Even something as simple as rearranging myself within this escape pod now takes effort on my part - I must force each limb to move, and it feels painfully slow. If I could return to my true form then this would not be a problem, but for some reason I cannot seem to change my outermost covering, a copy of the remnants of Her mighty armor that withstood even the most powerful assaults the creatures of Her past brought to bear against Her. I can alter myself inside the armor from organs and bones to the same substance as my people - gelatinous, that is the word Her people would use - but it becomes increasingly difficult to do so with each passing day. I also find myself tiring after a certain period of time, requiring repose, another unfamiliarity for me, and again I feel...something.
Still I cannot remember the word.

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I remember the word now.
Fear.
She made us feel Fear when She revealed She could absorb us into Her system without peril.
She made us feel Fear when She cleansed the replica of the homeland of our people.
And now, sitting in this cavern, She has made me feel Fear again.
The pod that I used to escape crashed on a planet I thought I recognized from the scattered pieces of Her memories - another thing that brings back the Fear, as our people had never before had difficulty remembering things gleaned from our hosts’ minds - and I quickly found the cave in which I now sit, after which I salvaged what I could from the pod. If I can regain control of Her memories, then I can create a real ship from materials left here by the planet’s ancient inhabitants, a ship that will allow me to find Her, for somehow I know that She is the one who can tell me what She did to me, why I can no longer change the consistency of my body any longer.
...Body?

Even Her people’s words become swiftly more natural to me with each passing day, it would seem.
It is too swift. Again, Fear.

Edited by SoulWeaver
Ya done screwed up, A-a-ron

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My body is no longer mine.
It is not quite the same as those of Her species, but it is becoming more similar to them too quickly, and I cannot seem to halt the change. I am now trapped in the basic body structure of Her people - two legs, two arms, walking upright - in other words, the form my replica of Her armor already required. The only difficulty is that I had intended to find a better form to survive as, assuming I could find such a creature as could outmatch Her form. In my current state, however, I do not properly fit in Her armor, and cannot control it as well, and I doubt I will ever be able to infect another creature ever again.
Infect - a new word, one I discovered recently. It is the word Her people used to describe how my old people entered the systems of other creatures. A word that carries in it a dark feeling, one described by another new word: Repulsive.
The light is fading - night approaches, and my body tires.

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I look almost just like Her now.
Sitting here preparing to leave in my crudely constructed ship, I look into the reflective glass and see Her face looking back at me, but with one difference. Her people’s eyes have a black space in the middle - a pupil, I think. My eyes, however, lack this detail, with only white in the middle of the ring of blue.
It disturbs me, and I do not know why.
It still feels strange to be trapped in one form. Though I am quickly growing more accustomed to not being able to change at will, there are still moments where I try to alter myself by reflex. They are, however, few and far between.
A noise outside - engines firing?
It may be someone after me.
It may be...Her.
Either way, I suppose I need to find out.

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The noise wasn’t Her. It was, however, someone after me.
I exited the cave to find three figures, all vaguely familiar from the dark recesses of Her memories. Two of them, one a dark purple being with elongated, double-jointed legs, and the other some manner of machine, the only one whose name I managed to pull up from the memories - Weavel - were already at the clearing outside the cave when I exited, while the third, a rather large yellowish creature with only one eye who made me think of an insect despite its humanoid shape, stood atop a small boulder nearby, seemingly primed to provide cover fire should whatever they were expecting to find prove hostile. Had my suit not been filthy and clearly not well-kept, something within me told me they would have attacked instantly, aiming to subdue first and ask questions later.
As it was, they regarded me carefully, as though confronted with an exhausted yet frustrated and still immensely powerful beast. As I made no move to assault them, after a moment something in my helmet beeped, and I jumped in response to the noise. My small grasp on Her memories, however, quickly provided the information that the beep was a radio, one that I had never bothered to use - my old people could communicate almost instantaneously so long as we were within a certain distance from one another, so I had never needed it. I turned the radio on in time to hear one of the figures repeating its message - namely, that someone had hired them to find me and bring me back to them. Said client promised no harm would come to me once I reached him, and that no harm would come to me during the journey back so long as I was willing to ‘play nice’ with the Hunters he’d sent.
Considering it was three to one in their favor, and that I was still in somewhat less than peak condition due to the loss of my transformative abilities, I decided it prudent to acquiesce to their mysterious client’s request. I was then surprised to learn that four Hunters, not three, had been assigned to find me, as a rather spindly red being seemingly materialized on top of a boulder quite a ways off. A sniper, it appeared, and with the ability to turn invisible - truly a formidable foe should you find yourself on its target list. On the way to their ship I found myself wondering how dangerous their client thought I was if he was sending such an elite team after merely me.
Now I sit in one of the private quarters of their ship, getting myself accustomed to the new situation and entering this Log - my sixth. I do not know why I feel it necessary to enter my experiences here, but I have the feeling it has to do with Her somehow.

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Today I was approached by the mechanical being, Weavel, who informed me it would be about a week before we reached our rendezvous point. When I asked him why this was the case, he explained they were attempting to avoid detection by the Galactic Federation, who were oddly interested in the group’s client and were trying to find him by tracking them. They had managed to lose their tails shortly before finding me, and would need the full week to reach a point where they could lose them again. The yellow being, Kanden, reckoned the tails would find us again within two days, and would likely try to force a ‘random inspection’ upon us. Basically, they would use their authority as Federation Agents to make us allow them to search every nook and cranny of the ship, under pretense of checking for illegal goods, but in reality in an attempt to discover what the group had come out to this sector to retrieve.
In other words, to find me, though they didn’t know it was me they were after.
Weavel said our best hope was that they were likely expecting us to have an inorganic or bioweapon or an energy source, rather than an extra passenger.
They had apparently had five on their ship when they first set out, but had dropped their fifth member, an individual unrelated to their actual mission who had simply wished for a ride to a general area for mining purposes, off without their tails discovering during a stop they’d made along the way. Their plan was to act as though I had been on the ship all along as the fifth crew member and hope our inspectors didn’t ask for credentials, as they had been unable to procure false credentials for me.
Having explained the situation, Weavel also informed me where I could find the rations procured by the group for sustenance during the upcoming week. They hadn’t been certain how long I had been on the planet on which they found me, and so had brought a fair amount of food, both for myself and for most of them, though Weavel warned me to be careful about not consuming any of the others’ food, which led me to wonder what any of them actually ate, or even how any of them ate anything at all.
He ended by saying they’d need to hide my copy of Her armor before our tails found us again, and informed me they had several suits I could choose from to use instead, following which he left.

Edited by SoulWeaver
early post whoops

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Loading Entry 008...

We caught the Federation ship on our radar today. However, they have made no attempt to contact us, which the others found odd. The purple one, Noxus, suggested this was because they are cautious about engaging four Bounty Hunters of their caliber unless necessary.
My Power Suit is dissolving. Weavel says it seems to be made of organic material mimicking the synthetic compounds Her original suit was made of, and that the organic material appears to have ‘died,’ for lack of a better word, resulting in the suit losing its structural integrity.
For some reason, this brings a pain to my chest. Losing this suit somehow feels like losing a connection to Her, and I am already reduced to so few of those, though why this matters to me I cannot say.
The red sniper, Trace, has been watching me over the past few days. Quietly, often I don’t realize he’s there until he leaves. I can see why he, at least, was selected to track me down, and I am grateful it was to retrieve me, not kill me. Still, there is something unnerving about his presence.

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