The Diary of a Survivor: Olivia

by KRicci93

I haven't written in my diary since after Nate got home from deployment. Seeing the world like this is just... painful. I've returned to my diary. Writing about my day to day life out here is therapeutic in the absence of my family. Like someone I can come home to. To whoever this falls into the possession of, I hope my life was meaningful. I hope I found my boy. Be well.

8. Chapter 8

Olivia Remington.

11/01/2287.

Tuesday.

12:00PM.

Dear Diary,

I don't know what's more fucked, the fact that I woke up to Diamond City Security MURDERING SOMEONE for accusing his brother of being a synth, or the fact that seeing a man's head blown off didn't even make me flinch. It was disgusting, but I've just grown numb to it. I've been here a single night and I'm already sick of hearing about the Institute and their synths. Poor guy though, first being accused of being a synth by his own brother, then watching said brother's head get blown apart by security. The guards were being assholes about the whole thing. It's like these guys are emotionless to the situation. This Institute sounds like a serious threat, and they just have their emotions shut off and put down anyone that makes a scene about it. I'm appalled at how they handled it, resorting to murder immediately.

The sky was very green all morning. It was very cloudy and gloomy, and green. It caused everything to have this faint green hue, and I have a feeling it's related to that heatwave from yesterday. It's radiation, it has to be. It made me feel very sick very fast, and Radaway and Rad-X were the only things that made me feel better. It cleared up late in the morning, I sat down and read the paper Nat gave me yesterday, and these people are right to be scared. It's a horror film come to life: who is and isn't a synth? You can't tell unless it's one of those combat synths that I've fought before, and that is FUCKING terrifying. Piper detailed the "Broken Mask" incident from 2229, and compared the circumstances around that to the Mayor sitting down and eating noodles. Piper's point is that it could happen again at any point, and no one would see it coming. Using the Mayor as a comparison is kind of a dick thing to do, regardless of their personal issues. That type of thing is usually done to deliberately invoke fear. I still don't like him though. Her article talked about how he banned Ghouls from the settlement in 2282, and that tells me that there are Ghouls out there that AREN'T feral monsters. That also sounds like racism, and that's not okay.

I made my way around town, met all the shop owners. And YES, doctors are still a thing! I mean, Dr. Sun seems like a miserable jerk, but at least he's a doctor. Solomon runs a pharmacy of sorts, and there isn't a restriction on the types of chems he can buy and sell. Honestly, it gave me flashbacks of my father all strung out on drugs. I didn't hang around and moved on swiftly. Myrna is a nutcase, the embodiment of paranoia. She asked me if I was a human because she wouldn't serve a synth. And my first thought was "how the fuck would you know if I was telling the truth". Whatever though, I perused her shop for a few minutes and was really hoping to find a toothbrush because I NEED ONE. And she didn't have one, bummer. Arturo is a sweetheart, handsome too. He called me the "new girl", so my presence in the settlement is already public knowledge. But then he gave me a rundown on weapons, and I tinkered with the service rifle I picked up on my journey. I sold some stuff too, guns I didn't need, and some animal hides to Myrna. Moe is a trip, he sells "Swatters", which are literally just baseball bats. Becky Fallon is a cranky widow, but how could you blame her? Her husband disappeared, supposedly taken by the Institute, and NO ONE would help her. I certainly can't blame her, because I'm a widow too. John, the town barber, touched up my hair at his shop. It's a functional little town, but these people think of it as this glorious city. It's all they've ever known, unlike me, and I have to say I'm impressed. Oh, and I met Polly, the town butcher. Those two headed deer are called Radstags, Brahmin are two headed cows, bloatflies are those big flies I mentioned before, these creatures have mutated drastically over 200 years and it is WILD.

Among all of these people I met, not a single person would even TOUCH the idea of helping me find my son. The Institute paranoia is BAD, and I don't feel like I'm going to get anywhere in this place. I was putting off seeing Piper until last, I was dreading it considering the town's overall negativity towards her, but I was pleasantly surprised when I finally talked to her myself. She has a good heart, but a lot of people tend to interpret that negatively on account of the content of Publick Occurrences. She knew I was a vault dweller right away, and she called me "Blue" as a sort of nickname. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I don't think she's gonna stop any time soon. She wanted to interview me, to get an outsider's perspective of the Commonwealth, to me, a new world. It was pretty straightforward, people will definitely love the fact that I was frozen in a vault for 200 years. That ALONE will probably triple her paper sales. I explained that I'm looking for my son, and that this world gives me hope. It's horrible, but people are, and have always been, a resilient species, and this is just another endurance test for us.

After all that, she offered to tag along with me after she got her paper all together, so I'll finally have someone to talk to. I love you Dogmeat, but you don't make a great conversation. Piper also pointed me in the direction of Nick Valentine, Diamond City's private investigator. She said people shy away from him and try not to talk about him, but he's the only person in town willing to help anyone, so I wonder what that's all about. Probably all circles back to the Mayor's orders to DC Security not to investigate missing persons cases. But he's my only shot, so that's my next stop.

I feel like an idiot, and ashamed. I was feeling really off earlier, so I figured I'd use a Stimpak just in case, and instead of a Stimpak, I grabbed a syringe filled with Psycho. I didn't look because I forgot I had collected a bunch of chems that I planned on selling if I could. I'm not gonna use them. But now I just feel stupid, that was a shitty experience. They say you're supposed to use Psycho in combat situations, and I was just sitting on a bench. So I had a violent, aggressive high that I needed to suppress because all I wanted to do was shoot shit, and I don't need to burn my bridges with this place the first day I'm here.

The. Fucking. Worst.

I know this is a lot to write in a diary, but I don't expect to survive out here. So if I die, I'd like to at least leave behind my story. I'll check in later, it's FUCKING RAINING again, I hope umbrellas still a thing. God dammit!

Later Diary.

10:10PM.

Why does everything have to be a fucking process? Ever since I left the vault, nothing I've done has been remotely easy. I go to see the detective, and I wind up having to rescue him. The irony. Detective Valentine's secretary, Ellie, was the only person at the office. When she told me that he hadn't returned from a case, I sighed internally, but told her that I'd hunt him down. Vault 114, built inside the old Park Street Station. That's where Nick Valentine was, but of course I had to fight my way to him. This gang of thugs run by a guy called Skinny Malone, made up of normal humans like me, and Ghouls. The hunch I got from the Synthetic Truth turned out to be factual. These Ghouls weren't feral, they were sentient. And I understand that Ghouls live a long time, some maybe as old as I am. I wonder if I'll run into any. Off topic though, I had to shoot my way through the subway station, into and through the vault just to get to this man.

And, because of course in this world, Valentine isn't even a man, he's a Synth, just like the ones I fought with Paladin Danse at ArcJet. Only, Nick behaves like a human. He doesn't talk like a Protectron, he talks like a person. I felt rude asking him what he was, but Nick didn't react like he was offended, he must get that question a lot. Nick, Dogmeat and myself fought our way back outside, only to run into Skinny Malone himself. Darla, his girlfriend, was with him, and apparently Nick was tracking her for her father, which is what landed him trapped by Skinny's goons. I convinced her to leave and go home. I didn't want to kill some impressionable young girl that was caught up with the wrong people. Skinny let us go after this. Probably feeling dejected because I convinced Darla to leave, or this mysterious history between himself and Nick, or maybe a little of both. But we got out safely and headed back to Diamond City. We got separated along the way thanks to a group of Raiders. We pretty much got ambushed, and I decided, instead of running, to just wipe them all out of then and there. A week ago, I wouldn't even CONSIDER killing any of them, but now because I've grown so numb to this violent world, I didn't think twice about it. Raiders haven't proven to have any sort of competence, which makes them easy to kill. Of course, after all that, I found myself separated from Nick. Figured I'd meet him at his office since that's where we both were headed. Around the corner of Fenway Park, Nick and I met up and got back to his office together. Ellie paid me for finding him too! I wasn't even looking to get paid since I needed Nick's help, but I appreciate it.

The next part was… difficult. Nick asked me all sorts of questions. I told him I was looking for Shaun, that we were in a vault and cryogenically frozen for 200 years. When he asked me about the murder, I started tearing up. I described that bald piece of shit and his two lab rats and what they did. Nick said the description matched a man by the name of Kellogg. He lived here in Diamond City shortly before I arrived, and had a 10 year old boy with him. I have a feeling that's my son. Bald asshole takes my son, then Kellogg, a bald asshole, has a boy with him. It just makes perfect sense, and I just missed them.

We investigated Kellogg's house, picking the lock on his door was ridiculously difficult. I almost couldn't do it, but finally I stumbled upon the right angle, and click! Inside his house was compact, but Nick was sure there was another room. And he was right; hidden door activated by a button underneath his desk. Inside, a mercenary's closet. Ammo, Nuka-Cola, Beer, even some heavy gear labeled "New California Republic", and a REALLY COOL looking revolver. This gun is a work of art, and I can't wait to see what it can do. But I digress, I found a box of cigars and some beers he likes, and Nick suggested I have Dogmeat sniff the cigars to track Kellogg. He offered to go with me, but I told him I wasn't sure. This is personal, and I don't want to drag anyone else into my revenge quest. Besides, it's getting late and I'm too drained after Vault 114 to go out mercenary hunting in the middle of the night.

I'll have Dogmeat start tracking him in the morning. Since I am essentially homeless, and my only safehouse is MILES away from Boston, I've decided to crash at Kellogg's place. Sitting in bed in my underwear, trusty Dogmeat curled up beside me, arsenal of rifles and pistols I've collected on the stands beside me, pen in hand, writing to you, Diary. This sounds unsanitary, but at this point, I don't give a damn. I don't feel like heading back down to the Dugout Inn when I'm perfectly fine right here. Ellie said security doesn't come up here anymore, and besides, I'm already undressed and comfortable. And I'm too exhausted to get re-dressed and haul all my shit across town.

A few things I need to keep in mind; I overheard two guys talking about something called the Railroad earlier. "Follow the freedom trail" is apparently some sort of code phrase. It sounds to me like they're a shadow-organization who fight the institute. If the institute IS behind the murder and kidnapping of my husband and my son, this Railroad might be a worthwhile lead to investigate. Aside from that, the "New California Republic" label has me intrigued. It sounds like there might be a large functioning society out west, I'll have to try out this gear at some point. It's heavy, a long brown coat, pants, chest armor, two helmets and a visor that locks into the helmets. And this revolver, I just can't get over how beautiful it is. It has a 5-round chamber, all black aside from the handle, gold engravings. The phrase "Against All Tyrants" is engraved on the barrel, and the bear and star of the California Flag is engraved in the wood on the handle. Again, it's a true work of art and I can't wait to use it.

Now, with all THAT out of the way, I'm going to brush my teeth, because I FINALLY HAVE A FUCKING TOOTHBRUSH AND I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED ABOUT IT. Some random trader sold it to me outside Diamond City, and I couldn't be happier.

Well, I could, but that's beside the point.

Goodnight, Diary.