Peridot here. Day seven.
Against my better judgement, I have decided to bathe in the pool nearby my hopefully temporary domicile.
While the water has soaked my hair, and has caused it to wilt rather comically and impede my vision, this is far more preferable to the constant feeling of dirt, and mud, and microorganisms that had covered me before. My skin crawls at the thought of it. Every other day I think will be enough to keep my body from shutting down due to foreign contaminants. I'd rather not go the way Obsidian did. Dear friend of mine, had joint lock happen to her on a desert world, couldn't move. Took Homeworld... Six years. Six years to find her. By then, she didn't even want to be conscious anymore.
I've been gifted with a method of cleaning myself. Hopefully, that shouldn't happen to me. Six years...
Perhaps the Crystal Gems aren't looking for me. I wish I could say that with some sort of satisfaction, but it honestly worries me more than anything else. Homeworld doesn't know where I am, and likely will take a while. I know how they look, this place will be the last spot on their list. The Crystal Gems, as much as they'd likely beat me senseless, would present a welcome change. Maybe I'd be able to have some decent conversation with them. As it stands, I've been looking over my Robonoids, day and night. If one happens to pop, that's an entire quarter of my vision. They are my eyes. And to think I had been so wasteful with them...
Speaking of eyes, I've noticed some variety of organism peering out through the crops. Initially, I assumed it was simply the stars, or, given the range of motion, some sort of crude human satellite. However, satellites do not cause the crops to rustle, or blink. Whatever this thing is, I will assume that it is not harmful. I was at my weakest on day six, its presence being noted to me on day four. Earth predators typically strike when they see weakness, after all. However, that's simply from what I've learned during the mission briefing I half slept through, this one being potentially being an exception.
Thankfully, I possess no organic matter on my person. If it decides to attack me, it will find there's nothing to eat, exactly. Maybe it'll leave me alone then?
Great, I'm waiting to be eaten. But hey, what else can I do? It's not like I have any weapons. No, that would require Chalcedony to have something resembling 'thought' to her actions, and we certainly can't have that, can we?
If... When I get out of here, I'm sending in a Class C complaint against her. Every single thing about this has been her fault, and her fault only. It probably won't do anything, but it sure as hell will make me feel better.
Peridot out. I'll check in whenever something interesting happens. I'm steadily starting to believe the whole, 'you'll go mad from thinking too much', thing. Oh well, I suppose I have a companion, at least.
Woo! Chapter three. Now, exactly none of you have been asking, 'what kind of music makes you write such a mediocre fucking story, whybot?', but I'll answer that question regardless. This chapter, and later chapters in planning, have been influenced by works such as Mush-Room by the Residents, And, Geogaddi by Boards of Canada. Eerie, spooky, ambient, synthetic yet natural sounding, they're pretty strongly recommended by me, myself, and I.
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