Journal of Luciana Crawford
((The following is written in red ink inside a mundane unmarked composition book. The handwriting is in cursive and rather eloquent looking.))
This is a journal to contain my thoughts. I do not know how well this will turn out. I am not adept at transferring my thoughts into words.
However, I find myself unable to sleep again. So, I will try writing. It is less painful than my other outlet.
It would probably be more efficient to use a computer or record my voice, but the motions of the pen are soothing.
My name is Luciana Crawford. I am not sure if this is my true name, but it is still an identity.
I am a survivor of the destruction of Galaxy City. My body was broken. I should not have survived, but I am still here.
My mind was also broken. It did not survive as much. I remember little prior to awakening in a hospital in Atlas. I remember how to fight. Why was that not taken too?
Through a series of circumstances, I am now an agent of the FBSA. My partner, Agent Ravenhawk, tells me I was employed with them before my accident.
I do not know what to make of him. he talks a lot, yet says little. He has me at an advantage and knows it. I know it too. However, he has given me a purpose. For that, I am thankful.
We are both currently assigned as liaisons to the Liberty Force; a group of advanced peacekeepers. Very advanced. I am unsure where they acquire the backing necessary for such lavish operations, but it is a point of interest.
Most of them do not enjoy our presence much. I am trying to change that.
However, I lack my partner's charisma. I envy him for that.
Today was eventful. Earlier, my partner and I joined Liberty Force member Bex Brooke. Unlike my partner, she is very direct. She also thinks and speaks very fast. I wish I could put my thoughts into words so quickly.
At one point she asked me what I wanted. It is the first time someone has asked me that without malice. She is a curious woman.
Together, we operated in Atlas, striking against criminal hideouts uncovered though a contact gained in the FBSA. The missions themselves were standard, save for the last; a trap by Doc Quantam. In the end we captured him. He is probably free by now. He has good lawyers. I dislike lawyers.
Later that evening, I assisted Major Tanis Vajara in tracking down an energy signature. I have much respect for her. More than I can convey in a notebook. She saved my life today. I was prepared to die, but I am still here. *A section here is scribbled out*
We were also joined by Miss Albedo One Hundred; a scientist who can manipulate a variety of weather-based powers. I believe she was also drawn by the odd energy signatures. This was not my first time meeting her and it was fortunate that we encountered each other. Her mind is sharp.
Around other scientists, I usually feel uneasy. I do not know why.
The facility we were in was heavily damaged when we arrived. There was much fire, and it smelled like rage. There was also a drumming sound in the distance.
We fought our way though many demons. At least, I believe they were demons. I am not unfamiliar with demons, though the ones I usually fight are personal.
As we made our way through the halls, I entertained thoughts of striking out against Major Tanis Vajara. I believe these were induced by the demons. They were unsavory thoughts. I feel ashamed.
Due to my state, I cannot give an accurate description of the events that happened when we reached the room in the back. That is beyond the scope of this journal in any case. I have already filed a report.
There was a woman; Monica. I believe she was a former Liberty Force member gone Rogue. It is no wonder they distrust strangers.
There was also a green demon which I attacked, but it was shielded. It then summoned a bigger demon and fled.
At this point I remember red. Pain. Rage. Lots of blood. All of it my own, I believe. If not for my comrades, I would not be here to write in this journal.
The giant demon of fire; I continued to attack it even when I knew it was futile. Even when my body cried for me to stop. I could not stop. I did not wish to stop. I was not frightened during the battle. Now, several hours later, I sit here in a small room and scrawl into a notebook and I am frightened.
The demons can induce rage. However, I cannot truthfully determine where the demon's influence ended and my own began. Even now, I sit here and think unsavory thoughts. I wi*several sentences are scribbled out*
I was wrong. This is not soothing. Perhaps a more familiar method will work.
