November 13, 2287 – Goodneighbor had the illusion of being a tucked away protected area in the middle of the city. It was walled off on all sides, only accessible by the main entrance off what was now an alleyway eventually leading to the Common. But even as I tried to sleep, there were constant sounds of Vertiberds overhead, firefights in the distance, and explosions. Hancock might have controlled what was going on inside the borders of this town, but outside, there was a still a war, apparently now between the Brotherhood and the various rogue forces that were competing for resources and political control. Even the Minutemen, stuck in the northwest corner of the Commonwealth, were involved in that battle, as Preston and his crew tried to eke out their version of freedom for the expanding array of settlements that allied themselves with the faction. At first, it seemed to be good guys vs. the bad guys. But it was getting increasingly difficult to tell who was who anymore. I had a feeling if I got to someone representing the Institute at some point, they’d probably think they had a good reason for doing what they were doing as well. Maybe they would feel they were trying to protect mankind somehow, or maybe they’d feel mankind wasn’t worth protecting.
November 13, 2287 – As Nick and I headed to the lower level of the Memory Den, where Dr. Amari set people up in egg-shaped pods where they could live out parts of other people’s lives, I asked him a question I had been wondering about for quite a while, especially in light of my conversation with Hancock. With so many in the Commonwealth openly hostile toward the Institute, and synths in general, how was it that he was on such good terms with so many people? He said it hadn’t always been this way. He had never hidden who he was, and in a time when the real terror of synths came from them inhabiting friends and family, he had always just been Nick. That transparency – which was mostly forced by his facial appearance – had been vital in getting people to trust him.
November 12, 2287 – Whenever I spend some time in what passes for civilization these days, I start getting complacent. The northwest suburbs of the Commonwealth are now largely controlled by the Minutemen and the Brotherhood. Diamond City and its surroundings are pretty much under control of the Diamond City guards, or at least there’s an illusion of control outside the gates, finally. But I keep forgetting how necessary it is to stay on high alert once outside those pockets of stability.
November 12, 2287 – Has someone ever told you something about their past that completely changed how you perceived them? Reason I ask is because I just had a very interesting chat with someone back at Diamond City, and something she told me revealed a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she’s so aggressively trying to get the word out about a danger she sees threatening the entire Commonwealth. OK, you know who I’m talking about, but I’ll get to that story in just a moment.