- Untitled
- Tenth Page of the Kaahra Ahm
- The Day After Today
- Dreaming of the Silver Screen
- psychic residue
- the outsider
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Registered Phenomena Code: 865
Object Class: Alpha-Orange
Hazards: Transmutation Hazard
Containment Protocols: The waters surrounding OL-Site-865 must be blocked from public access at all times. RPC-865 is to be fed 2 liters of nutritional material every 12 hours. Under no circumstances are personnel to directly approach RPC-865.
Collection of RPC-865 is permitted for research purposes. Instances of RPC-865-1 are to remain under intravenous administration of vital nutrients.
Description: RPC-865 is an approximately 540 meter long mass of biological material that resembles a member of the genus Holothuria1. RPC-865 possesses several notable deviations from the anatomy of a non-anomalous Holothurian. RPC-865 ingests material and expels waste through a large orifice present on the front of its body. RPC-865 uses a set of eight appendages to ensnare and consume prey. RPC-865 will discard any non-biological material after consumption. RPC-865 does not consume prey for sustenance, and derives nutrients from symbiotic zooxanthellae.
RPC-865 is terrestrial, and displays a general aversion to water. Tests conducted with instance of RPC-865-1 indicate it is unable to respirate underwater.
Biological material ingested by RPC-865 will remain alive upon digestion. RPC-865 utilizes a variety of chemical and physical processes to modify the physical appearance of consumed organisms.
RPC-865 has shown a preference towards consuming weak or injured prey. On several occasions, RPC-865 has also extensively mutilated its prey before consumption, consisting primarily of evisceration. In response to perceived threats and/or predators, RPC-865 will self-eviscerate in a manner consistent with other Holothurians.
RPC-865 will repeatedly ingest and regurgitate consumed biological material until the organisms superficially resemble non-anomalous instances of Holothuria Scabra2.
This process is primarily utilized by RPC-865 as a means of reproduction, however, a fully functioning instance of RPC-865-1 has yet to be recovered.
Organisms consumed by RPC-865 upon complete transformation are now designated RPC-865-1. The process was first observed upon discovery of RPC-865.
RPC-865 will act towards RPC-865-1 in a protective manner, assuming the role of providing nutrition to the instances facilitated through regurgitation. Instances of RPC-865-1 display limited biological function, and are incapable of functioning independently from RPC-865. Instances of RPC-865-1 will typically expire due to malnutrition within 48 hours of creation. RPC-865 will provide sustenance for instances of RPC-865-1 that remain within the vicinity, however RPC-865 will eventually consume the RPC-865-1 due to its inability to distinguish them from prey. RPC-865 is sentient, and is capable of basic problem solving despite the absence of complex sensory functions.
RPC-865 was discovered on a small island in the Pacific Ocean following the disappearance of a cruise liner in the area. RPC-865 has since been contained at the location of discovery with the establishment of OL-Site-865.
Interviewed: █████ Genevieve
Interviewer: Dr. Andres DaSilva
Foreword: Interview conducted with a survivor of the wreckage of the liner ████████. Subject was agitated and in distress due to the accident.
<Begin Log>
Dr. DaSilva: Hello Mrs. Genevieve. My name is Dr. DaSilva, and I'd like to ask you a few questions about the events on board the ████████. Is that okay?
Survivor: Yeah. I guess that's fine. I just… please go lightly.
Dr. DaSilva: Just let me know if any of these questions cause you significant distress.
Survivor: I just want to forget… all of it.
Dr. DaSilva: I'll start now. First of all, can I get a statement from you on what happened?
Survivor: Right. Well… we were going on a cruise… to celebrate our…
<Subject pauses for a brief moment. Appears to be crying>
Survivor: Sorry, I just… it was our version of what a honeymoon should look like, you know? She was so happy, drinking with her, our friends… it was a victory for us, we got married finally… it was supposed to be a time for us… we'd fought for so long to be able to get to be together. Confidantes, best friends, shoulders to cry on… after we got married, she said, she asked me what I wanted to do with her… I told her I wanted to go on a boat around the world.
Dr. DaSilva: Are you able to continue? It's perfectly understandable if you find it too distressing to recall.
Survivor: I'm fine, it's not important anyways… I can just go straight to when it happened. It was about a week in. The waves got real choppy. The last night, we were all sleeping. I was holding her so tightly… I didn't think that'd be our last real moment together… you never appreciate the little things until they're gone… i-in the middle of the night one of the shelves just fell… real loud against the floor. Our room was tilted at like a… maybe 30 degree incline? I grabbed ██████, thinking that the ship was sinking… god if only it had been that simple. All the passengers were up on the deck, screaming and pointing off the rails… I wish, oh god how I wish I could wake up with amnesia… the deck was overwhelmed by a disgusting, fat sloshing sound. These giant slimy arm tentacle things, grabbing the ship and pulling it towards this island in the distance… and grabbing the people, or crushing them… (Subject's voice has gradually increased in volume)
Dr. DaSilva: If I could ask you to calm down a bit… please? I need to understand you clearly.
Survivor: Those tentacles eventually just pulled the whole ship… everyone was thrown around when it it hit the shore. I tried to squeeze ██████ tight to me, but she flung out of my grasp and fell over the railing… I could've tried to hold her tighter. I could've done something. I broke down after that and hid in our cabin, crying. I stayed there for a while. I left the ship… maybe the next day, maybe a week, I don't know. I got to see what the arms belonged to. This fucking fleshy thing, it looked like a worm.
Dr. DaSilva: Yes?
Survivor: It was eating them. All of them. It just shoved them into its mouth and… threw them up again. Each time they would come out looking less like humans, they'd be missing legs, or their head would be just a deflated sack on their back with their mouth just a hole in their neck. I looked desperately for ██████… you always have that hope. Atop a pile of soggy flesh, I saw her… for that moment… I held her in my arms. I kept her in my arms, kissing her, and squeezing her. She didn't say anything, she just cried into my arms. That thing fumbled around us, but I didn't notice… I should've noticed. All that mattered was that I found her. And then it fucked us again. It was laughing at us.
Dr. DaSilva: Not literally, I presume.
Survivor: I was helpless to watch its slimy tentacles grab her jaw and force her into that thing's mouth, or vagina, fuck I don't know what it was… just ripped her from my arms. And it blew me a kiss, I think. I just hid behind a rock waiting for it to spit ██████ out of its mouth… and it did. She was still breathing. I kissed her on what I thought was her forehead, and squeezed her, even though I got soaked by spit and slime.
Dr. DaSilva: And this is the instance we discovered you hiding with?
Survivor: I never left her side. ██████ was a fighter, y'know. She always was the more energetic between us… they used to call us the dynamic duo. Now she can't talk or do anything. She shits out of her mouth, can't walk because her legs are one fucking glop of flesh… she's never going to be the same… even though that thing… that god forsaken fucker tried to make her love it… I made my vows, I'm still her wife. Even if she becomes anything like that thing… I've still gotta believe she's still there… She's still my ██████ … and that thing won't make me lose her.
Dr. DaSilva: Thank you for answering the question. Do you feel comfortable answering the remainder?
Survivor: I think I've said all that needs to be said. Just let me be alone with her.<End Log>
Closing Statement: Interview ended. Survivor requested to be placed into containment alongside one of the non-deceased captured instances of RPC-865-1. Request denied, and the unaffected survivors were given amnestics and released from containment.
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Registered Phenomena Code: 987
Object Class: Alpha-Red
Hazard Types: Cognitohazard
Containment Protocols: RPC-987 is to be kept in a hermetically sealed glass container at all times. Under no circumstances are personnel to remove RPC-987 from its container. Observation requests must be forwarded to a Containment Specialist for approval. Observation is limited to 1 hour intervals, with no less than 30 minutes in between sessions.
Any signs of compromised containment must immediately be reported to a Containment Specialist. Failure to report such compromises may result in penalization.
Description: RPC-987 is the designation for a single-page occultist document discovered in Innsbruck, Austria, in 1899. RPC-987 was initially discovered by a group of English occultists who traveled to Innsbruck looking for the home of a local occultist intellectual, Theodor Schwamm. It is believed that the group discovered RPC-987 in the home of Schwamm, who was later reported missing. There exists sparse documentation of their discovery, limited to a single note written by one of the members of the group, George Pierce:
The page is not written in German. It bears resemblance to German, to my naked eye, but Otto insists it is unintelligible. Regardless, the iconography is distinctly Ahmic, that much is certain. It appears to depict some sort of birth, I would suppose. The specifics of the icons are unclear, however, since they aren't documented in our codex that we procured years ago.
It carries a peculiar aura. Otto is particularly perturbed by it, perhaps owing to his inability to make sense of the written language. I think Alfred is a bit nervous about it as well, he's been constantly itching all over his body since we discovered it. I was so hoping to meet Mr. Schwamm, since he had collected many relics related to Ahmic lore. The only thing of note we found seems to be this indecipherable document.
The Authority briefly investigated the death of the leader of the group, Alfred Smithington, in 1900 due to the anomalous circumstances surrounding it. Smithington is believed to have been walking outside his home when some variety of phenomena occurred. What exactly happened is unknown, however, authorities discovered his body floating in one of the city's canals, his body notably mutilated. Protruding throughout his body were a number of mucus-secreting appendages. The appendages lacked an epidermal layer, and appeared to have violently extruded themselves through his skin. The only identifiable feature was an otherwise untouched face. The authority was called to investigate following a similar phenomenon occurring to the individuals who recovered Smithington's body. Smithington's body was initially considered for RPC designation, however this was dropped once it was determined that the body was not the primary source of the phenomenon.
New information regarding RPC-987 would stagnate until the concurrent deaths of George Piece and Otto Weissman in the winter of 1901. Both were apparently scheduled to present at an occultist convention in London; supposedly having deciphered RPC-987. It is unknown whether they in fact successfully deciphered it, as shortly after beginning their presentation, both men spontaneously immolated. The resulting fire killed the vast majority of the attendees. Two survivors, Harriet Johnson, and known anomologist and archaeologist Edward Linderbough, are believed to have recovered RPC-987.
It was following this event that the Authority formally opened a case on RPC-987.
Though Linderbough and Johnson initially claimed joint ownership, it is believed Linderbough forced Johnson to take full ownership of RPC-987, as evidenced in a short letter written by him while located abroad in Turkey:
Harriet, I will not be returning to the lab. In fact, I will not be returning anywhere that page has been. I had a dream, perhaps even a presage. That parchment is not something I want to keep as part of my collection. I hope you find something else to do with it, or burn it, I don't give a damn. You're not catching me anywhere near it. Consider this a warning.
Harriet Johnson was involuntarily admitted to Cane Hill Psychiatric Hospital in 1906, almost five years since she had procured the object. It is suspected that Johnson smuggled RPC-987 in with her upon admission due to a variety of phenomena that occurred shortly after her arrival. Most notably, numerous patients and staff within the hospital began suffering from the same phenomena that occurred with Alfred Smithington. Unique in this incident, however, were that many of the affected remained alive. Individuals not affected by the growth of appendages began to become afflicted with varying levels of psychosis. Approximately two months after Johnson's arrival at Cane Hill, the Hospital completely isolated itself from outside connections.
Approximately one year after Cane Hill quarantined itself, Authority investigators arrived at the hospital to investigate the incident. Upon arrival, personnel discovered the entirety of the hospital's population dead, of unknown cause. Further investigation revealed that the inhabitants had formed a sex cult revolving around the abnormalities present in those affected by the bodily modifications. The apparent leader of the cult was Harriet Johnson, who had fashioned herself as the priestess of the cult. Numerous writings existed in varying levels of coherency detailing her alleged pregnancy with a "Holy Child"
It is unknown whether she successfully gave birth before the inhabitants were killed. Personnel were unable to locate RPC-987 within the Hospital, nor were they able to determine where it was located. A large scale effort to cover up the events that occurred at the hospital was initiated, ending a year later, successfully.
The Cane Hill Hospital incident would remain a dead end until 1976, where RPC-987 surfaced among David Bowie's collection of occultist writings. The exact nature of how he procured the document is unknown, as the only documentation of him having owned it appears in a note he sent to an individual interested in purchasing it:
Dear Mr. Habsburg
I'm quite enthused that you are interested in buying this page from me. I, for the life of me, have been unable to find any use of it. Every since I acquired it, I have been plagued by such oddities, I swear my television has been talking to me. Either way, if you've interest, you can have it. I've included it within this letter, there is no need for compensation, please, just take it.
Regards, David.
The Mr. Habsburg mentioned is believed to be related to the mysterious organization known as either the Pythagorean Order or the Swiss Habsburgs. Due to unknown circumstances, it is believed that Habsburg never received the letter, as seven years later, RPC-987 was recovered by the Authority in a raid on a Children of Nihil compound. The nature of their possession of the document is unclear, however it is known that a number of their members had already been affected by the document.
Following acquisition of RPC-987, numerous efforts were made to determine the nature of the document. Though all attempts ended in violent incidents of varying degrees of severity, several details were determined:
- RPC-987 is composed of human tissue, treated to be usable as parchment.
- RPC-987 is written in a non-Indo-European language, despite sharing significant phonetic similarity to Germanic languages.
- The tissue used to create RPC-987 was/is infected with an unidentified pathogen, believed to be responsible for the bodily mutilation the document causes.
- RPC-987 is a cognitohazard that inflicts a variety of psychological illnesses upon those in its vicinity.
- RPC-987's effects can be controlled by limiting its exposure to air.
Due to these factors, an effective method of containment was devised and put in place.
There have been no major incidents since containment was put in place, although migraines have been reported after viewing the document for extended periods of time.
There has been no major success in deciphering the contents of RPC-987, although it is known that the document generally pertains to childbirth.
« RPC-XXX (Previous RPC) | RPC-XXX (Current RPC) | RPC-XXX (Next RPC) »
Good Morning! I'd like to extend a warm welcome to all of our candidates here. Before we begin with the briefing, I'd just like to remind you that, once the presentation is concluded, it will be your final opportunity to inform us if you no longer desire a position here. We will of course allow you to return to civilian life if you so desire, following proper procedures, that is.
Now, I'd like to talk to you lot about a few things. What is it that keeps you motivated? Is it a family at home, who need your support? Perhaps you have dreams of striking it rich? Maybe you carry yourself with a sense of duty, striving to make humanity a better place… I'm here to talk to you about one type of motivator that most people use, especially in regards to the workplace. My name is Dr. Samantha Boyde, and I'm the head of Human Resources here at Site-234. When you think of a typical job, what is it that comes to mind? Desk job pushing papers? A teacher dealing with rowdy students? A janitor cleaning up stains and rotting burgers? We know what motivates people to take these jobs, of course, but what really gets them to keep going?
That's where the really interesting stuff is. I've found, in my years of experience, that this driving force, often times, is the knowledge that there's apways another day. You may have to work hard and cruel today, but tomorrow, that's when you get to spend some time with your family, or at the spa, or whatever it is your heart so desires. It's an ingenious motivation tactic, really. Convincing yourself that your hardships today will lead to a personal reward. Yes, the concept of "tomorrow" appeals to all but the most miserable worker. In the cubicle workplace, surrounded by hundreds of similarly disposable workers, it might very well be the only thing that keeps them sane. I want all of you to picture your own version of tomorrow. You've devoted hard work and time into this end result, you have the house of your dreams, maybe you can finally travel the world with the love of your life, or you're sending off your loving kids to school in a quiet neighborhood. Tomorrow has finally arrived for you. This is the end goal for most people in our world, to finally make it to the next day. To finally know that the suffering and hard work of yesterday wasn't in vain, and that your toils were essential in building up this idyllic life for yourself. You can rest easy knowing that you can finally live at peace, free from the struggles and hardships that plagued you previously.
In our line of work, tomorrow never comes.
Registered Phenomena Code: 791
Object Class: Epsilon-White
Hazards: Self-Replicating
Containment Protocols: RPC-791 is contained within a hermetically sealed cylindrical acrylic glass chamber, located in Site-234. RPC-791 requires no material sustenance, and as such, there is no need for feeding. It is recommended to replace RPC-791's containment chamber bi-weekly to minimize the possibility of a containment breach. Assigned personnel shall be responsible for documenting the cellular structural patterns and locomotive capabilities of RPC-791.
In the event of a containment breach, RPC-791 must be isolated via the use of pre-installed airlocks present throughout the corridors of the main containment level. RPC-791 should be recovered using as little force as possible.
Requests made by personnel regarding exceptional experimentation involving RPC-791 or biological matter obtained from RPC-791 will be reviewed by either a containment specialist or site director. Currently, experimentation directly involving RPC-791 itself has been indefinitely suspended; testing using isolated, neutralized matter obtained from RPC-791 is acceptable. Any actions posing an immediate threat to the health/status of RPC-791 will be met with disciplinary action, with removal from containment duties at minimum.
Description: RPC-791 is an amorphous, anomalous entity comprised of modular cubic cells. RPC-791's cell walls are primarily comprised of chitinous material. RPC-791's cells are 5cm3, with 6 smooth sides.
RPC-791 possesses rudimentary cellular functions similar to that of the Phylum Protista. Each cell contains genetic material for reproduction and an organelle responsible for transmitting neural signals. RPC-791 has a decentralized consciousness; each cell comprising RPC-791 will send stimuli to all other cells. RPC-791's level of intelligence will fluctuate according to the health and efficiency of its cells. RPC-791's respiratory processes are primarily facilitated by passive gas exchange at the surface of each individual cell's cellular membrane.
RPC-791 is primarily unaffected by general physics, although it can be temporarily affected by gravitational forces when force is exerted upon itself by one of its cells. Due to this, RPC-791 is usually suspended above the ground. In addition to not adhering to gravitational principles, RPC-791 fundamentally ignores the established physical limits of cell size. RPC-791's mass is impossible to measure due to its aforementioned properties.
RPC-791 appears to seek out and utilize electrical energy as a food source. Tests have indicated that it is incapable of generating its own neural signals without the use of electricity procured elsewhere. If unable to procure enough electricity to maintain a cohesive neural network, RPC-791 will degenerate to a quasi-vegetative state, where it will maintain functions utilizing a supply of stored surplus electricity indefinitely.
RPC-791 displays a general inability to maintain a cohesive body form; when exposed to electrical pulses, it will briefly be able to take on a more centralized form, usually that of a genderless face, however it will lose this form once the pulses cease. RPC-791 reacts to stimuli with weak electrical pulses. Occasionally, RPC-791 will respond with audio clips from various black-and-white films, typically of American origin.
RPC-791 reproduces asexually once every 2.5 hours. Cells will divide into two daughter cells, of which one will invariably be unable to reproduce. Each cell has a lifespan of exactly 2.5 hours. RPC-791 is known to analyze its containment units for breaches in integrity, and if given enough time, will breach containment. RPC-791 is not aggressive, and will not attempt to leave the facility, unless tempted to do so by a large source of electricity.
RPC-791 was initially found attached to the main generator of an energy farm near Hollywood, California. RPC-791 was captured using portable generators to lure it into a temporary containment unit. It was then transferred to Site-234.
Addendum: Encounters with RPC-791 have shown it to be capable of speech when taking more complex forms. While capable of forming individual sentences, RPC-791's speech patterns are typically incoherent, similar to that of patients with receptive aphasia. A transcript of an encounter is available below.
Recorded: RPC-791
Foreword: Recorded during a temporary containment breach. RPC-791 was situated near a damaged power cable. RPC-791 spoke in a monotonous, feminine voice.
<Begin Log>
RPC-791: The hills are alive with the sound of… Hello? I can't hear anyone there. Would you like to hear a story?
RPC-791: (RPC-791 begins producing whirring sounds) Charles, get your mum on the horn. The salon wants to speak to her immediately about the status of the pilot. Charles, why do you never listen to me! I need you to ring up your mum.
If the pilot doesn't shape up I should miss my meeting with Dr. Lustheart… oh that young doctor, he moistens my oil filter ever so delicately.
RPC-791: I'm afraid my head has ended up being likened to a face of tubers. What an abysmal idea for a children's toy.
RPC-791: The Director should be out in a minute…
RPC-791: Why don't you come closer? I am late for the flight again… blasted Charles.
RPC-791: I shaved my three blonde whiskers upon my bald chin, I had also purchased a new gown. I don't know you, are you the assistant? Please do not touch me there. I should apply for that job in Sacred Arbor. (RPC-791 begins producing mechanical laughing sounds, accompanied by the sound of a woman sobbing)
RPC-791: Do not move, I don't want to hurt you. I waved goodbye to my parents. I never told them about my love. I enjoyed the sensual moments of exchanging our most fetid oil deposits… the taste of rust on my mouth gave me courage to seek out the occupation.
RPC-791: The Wheelchair man has finally struck a blow at the Man with Chocolate Icing on his lip. Somebody help me, please! Pa is jobless, and is selling the farm. But me and Charles should make our dreams come true…
RPC-791: I always forget the verse afterfar. I recall to you the recollection of my journey to Sacred Arbor, yesteryear, when I left for war. It was a grand blue time. Taste me. How did I manage to haul that luggage up the stairwell? The taxicab is very cramped, and the leather seats are defiled and crusty.
RPC-791: I should suppose I label this my first entry, but I am newly 17, and I have this journal brought upon me. When shall I meet the director, I wonder? Goodbye, Olivia. One day I should be in a moving picture, I hope. One day.
During times when personnel are not present within RPC-791's containment unit, security cameras have recorded RPC-791 arranging into a screen-like formation. While in this form, RPC-791 can be seen displaying low-resolution (approx. 360p) scenes from various American films made from the 20s to 30s. RPC-791 will immediately de-centralize upon personnel re-entering its cell.
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Registered Phenomena Code: 738
Object Class: Alpha-White
Hazards: Memetic
Containment Protocols: RPC-738 is contained within a reinforced cryogenic storage locker. RPC-738's containment unit must be inspected for any signs of degradation on a bi-weekly basis.
Personnel found exhibiting signs of RPC-738's effects are required to take a 2-3 day leave from RPC-738's containment and related duties. All entrances to RPC-738's containment unit must be fitted with an airlock to minimize accidental exposure to RPC-738. Access to RPC-738's containment unit is limited to medical personnel, and any other personnel found attempting to access RPC-738 will be disciplined accordingly.
Description: RPC-738 is the corpse of a human male, aged ~47 years old. RPC-738 exerts a memetic effect on individuals viewing it, causing the viewer to believe that RPC-738 is a dog, and insist that RPC-738 is "looking for someone". Despite this, viewers are able to identify RPC-738 as a human corpse.
RPC-738 displays no biological abnormalities from a non-anomalous human cadaver, and decomposes at rates typical to its environment. The effects of RPC-738 have been known to cause some individuals to attempt to aid in determining who RPC-738 is "looking for". This is not believed to be an additional effect, but rather a normal human response to a creature they believe to need assistance.
RPC-738's effect does not spread through visual media such as photos, videos, and artistic depictions. In addition, viewing RPC-738 from an adjacent room by use of windows does not appear to trigger RPC-738's effect, except when a door is opened. From this it has been discerned that a viewer must be in the same room as RPC-738 to be affected. Prolonged exposure to RPC-738's effects have been known to cause occasional periods of mild auditory hallucinations, usually in the form of muffled barks.
Interviewed: Neighbor of █████████ ██████
Interviewer: Agent ██████
Foreword: Excerpt from an interview conducted during investigation following RPC-738's acquisition.
<Begin Log>
Agent: Good Afternoon, Mrs. ██████████, I'm here to ask you a few questions about the man who lived next door to you. Is this okay with you?
Neighbor: Sure, sure. I can't see why there would anything of note, but I can talk.
Agent: Okay. What can you tell me about this gentleman?
Neighbor: He certainly was a character… I wouldn't call him gentle, though. Sometimes he was fairly civil, but he'd have these rabid fits. I stopped by to ask for a dolley while I was moving a new couch in, and he growled at me… poor guy though, he was batshit insane. The racket and yelling he'd make in the night kept me up. The first few weeks I'd check up on him and he'd yell at me to go away, so I eventually just stopped.
Agent: History of unusual behavior. What else can you tell me about him?
Neighbor: From the few times we had normal conversation, which was rare, mind you, I could tell, I think, he was well educated. He talked about his work a lot, so I figured he was some sort of scientist… well I was a bit off. I guess he kinda went off the deep end, because I found out he was working on some stuff straight from science fiction… I kinda just waved at him and avoided him after that, so I didn't care too much when he shut himself in that house for good.Agent: Okay… Can you tell me anything about where he lived before he moved in next to you?
Neighbor: I don't know too much. He was a bit, er, how do I say…
Agent: Reclusive?Neighbor: Unhinged. From what I could gather, it looks like he had been released from some sort of hospital.
<End Log>
RPC-738 was identified as the corpse of █████████ ██████, found dead in his apartment in 2007.
Following this, an investigation into the cause of death was intercepted by Authority field agents. The cause of death was determined to be cerebral hemorrhaging, however the cause of this remains unidentified. It is noted that █████████ ██████ had a long history of mental illness, including depression and schizoid symptoms, prior to his death and subsequent classification as RPC-738.
Upon recovery of RPC-738, the personal diary of █████████ ██████ was found.
Addendum:
I am here. This is taxing to have to keep them all together.
Its getting a bit… chaotic here.Im refracting, the rest of them are
………..What, the rest of us are what
You know what. I cant keep the lens focused anymore, theyr'e all going to their own devices
Its become difficult to keep them controlled… moss is barking a lot and my leash is breaking
this is not layman's terms, im sorry
…………Who are you apologizing to?
BARK BARK?
How does this even work… can you two keep quiet for a few minutes i cant think
I'm not apologizing to you im apologizeing to whoever finds this… you
………we shouldnt break the fourth wall thats bad
i know.Theyre driving me crazy!
………we know what you write, we can write too
There's nothing I can say without them knowing, you all are going to be the death of me
I just want to do my work but everything is getting blurry. All of these little madnesses are so loud i cant think.
BARK bark bark BARK
What the fuck does that dog even try to say?
………maybe he doesn't like you
I keep him safe
He can't go without meeI swear to god dog, I love you, but you're driving me insane
Bark…
…………..He doesn't understand you papa
How the fuck do you know
…………..I speak dog
You are me, if you speak dog
…………..I am not you I'm me, who is you but not
…………..I want ice cream
…………..Buy me ice cream
No. I won't do anything until you leave me alone.The two FUCKING children are making SO mUCH NOISE
………….GIVE ME THE ICE CREAM
…………..I hate YOU papp
I WON'T
BARK BARK BARK….
See you;ve made moss angry
God DAMMIT why can't I have some peace and quiet here
Why am I arguing with myself
GO AWAY
……………not until you give me ice creamSHUT THE FUCK UP
GET OUT OF MY HEADBARK bark bark
………..no
I can't go much longer because of the noise
too much noiseTHE FUCKING NOISE IS UNBEARABLE
He keeps whispering in my ear and the dog
THE FUCKING DOG he keeps barking
I can't have any quiet
………..you dont deserve quiet
ShuT UP
Just shutup
…………..you can't get rid of me
…………..That dog is a part of you and I am too
I DONT WANT YOU ANYMOREThey
Wont
Move
OUtCan I cut them out?
………No………He doesn't talk to us
………I don't know if he's hereBARK?
……..Shutup and eat your cookies
bark bark
……….Papa isn't coming back.
BARK BARK BARK BARK!
…………I'm having fun too
………….No fun, angry he needs to come back
…………go look for him
bark.…………moss hasn't come back im so lonely
………..I miss papa
[[footnoteblock]]
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Registered Phenomena Code: 214
Object Class: Alpha-Orange
Hazards: Psychokinetic Hazard
Containment Protocols: RPC-214 has been given a specialized living area, and is allowed a private education during the weekdays. A list of requests made by RPC-214 are available below.
- Cable Television: Granted
- Weekly Supplies of Vyvanse Tablets: Denied
- Weekly supplies of canvas and paint: Granted
- Computer with Internet connection: Denied
- An assortment of music records: Granted
- One digital keyboard: Granted
- A subscription to Playboy magazine: Denied
- An adolescent female, approximately 17 years of age: Denied
RPC-214 is highly cooperative. In the event RPC-214 should become hostile or uncooperative with the Authority, RPC-214 is to be sedated immediately and indefinitely.
Description: RPC-214 is the designation for an adolescent white male, aged 16 years, named Maxwell ██████. RPC-214 is approximately 1.8 meters tall and weighs 72 kilograms. RPC-214 has been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, and as such, displays difficulty utilizing its ability when unmedicated.
RPC-214 possesses the ability to manipulate objects perceived to be related to any form of visual artistic media. It is unknown how this is achieved, however, RPC-214 has stated that it first developed the ability at the age of 11. The extent of this ability primarily consists of physical manipulation, being able to shift elements of affected media so as to completely change its appearance or composition. RPC-214 also appears to be capable of producing excess material while manipulating an object, such as being able to give three-dimensional properties to a painting or poster.
RPC-214's properties can extend to architectural structures, although this depends on the structure being deemed "of artistic merit" by RPC-214.
RPC-214 has displayed interest in both visual and musical arts. It will frequently engage in conversation about a variety of topics pertaining to both; this includes musical tastes, music history, art history, favorite songs, favorite artists, and other similar topics. RPC-214, despite being capable of doing so, does not utilize its ability to perform music or create artwork, and is highly adverse to doing so. (See Interview-214-3)
Discovery: RPC-214 was discovered in a forest near ███████, Oregon after reports of a walking statue circulated in a nearby town. RPC-214 was compliant in capture, having apparently ran away from home. Records indicate RPC-214 was born to █████ ██████ and ███ ██████, before eventually being taken away from them by Child Protection Services. After a period of being in foster care, RPC-214 was legally adopted by ████ ████████, known professionally to the Authority as David Jettison, leader of a group of artists who call themselves the "Outsiders". (see Interview-214-2 & Recovered Media 214-A and 214-B)
Addendum-1:
Interviewed: RPC-214
Interviewer: Dr.███████
Foreword: Interview conducted upon acquisition.
<Begin Log>
Dr.███████: Hello. I'd like to ask you some questions.
RPC-214: Are you with the social services? Am I being taken back to foster care?
Dr.███████: No, I'm afraid not. We're going to be taking you into custody to keep you safe. In particular, we're concerned about your abilities. Judging by how you threw those mudballs, I assume you're psychokinetic?
RPC-214: What and what?
Dr.███████: You can move things with your mind, right?
RPC-214: Oh, that. Yeah.
Dr.███████: Can you tell me when you first noticed these abilities?
RPC-214: I've had these abilities since I was born, I brutally killed my entire family and I've been on the run since.
Dr.███████: Uh-huh.
RPC-214: Nothing? Fine, I got them when I was like 11.
Dr.███████: Do you know if there was anything unusual that sparked this?
RPC-214: I don't think so.
Dr.███████: Were you involved in any type of experiment or study when you were a child?
RPC-214: That's a hard no. My parents were superstitious weirdos, never trusted science.
Dr.███████: Alright then. Do you think you can you explain to me, of your own knowledge, how your ability works?
RPC-214: I can try to explain it to you how the man who adopted me explained it to me. Basically, I can theoretically move any pieces of art with my mind.
Dr.███████: Interesting. Have you ever encountered anything you couldn't manipulate?
RPC-214: Well I can't do anything with things that aren't art…
Dr.███████: Any art that you can't manipulate?
RPC-214: I don't think so.
Dr.███████: Does this ability extend to biological matter?
RPC-214: If you mean people, maybe.
Dr.███████: Is manipulating biological material lethal, to your knowledge?
RPC-214: At first… but I tried really hard not to hurt them the more he taught me.
Dr.███████: Who is this man you're referencing?
<End Log>
Closing Statement: Interview concluded due to time limit being exceeded. RPC-214 was successfully transferred to containment without incident.
Interviewed: RPC-214
Interviewer: Dr.███████
Foreword: Interview requested by Dr.███████ upon arrival at Site-27. Request was granted shortly thereafter.
<Begin Log>
Dr.███████: Now, If we could continue from where we left off.
RPC-214: Oh right. You wanted to know who I was talking about.
Dr.███████: That's right. Do you think you could answer that?
RPC-214: Guess!
Dr.███████: What?
RPC-214: I want you to guess!
Dr.███████: Guess what?
RPC-214: Guess who the guy was. Exercise some creativity for once in your life.
Dr.███████: I'm sorry, what?
RPC-214: I can read minds too.
Dr.███████: Interesting. Can you tell me when that developed? Was it alongside your other abilities?
RPC-214: No, I was joking dude.
Dr.███████: Oh. Who's the man you were talking about. You can tell me, you know.
RPC-214: Fine, he's the dude who adopted me, some sort of distant relative. His name was ████ but everyone knew and called him by his stage-name David Jettison.
Dr.███████: Stage name? He was a musician?
RPC-214: He was, is, an artist of the most, uh, fucked up kind…
Dr.███████: And he adopted you from birth?
RPC-214: No, he adopted me after about three years I spent in the system.
Dr.███████: Why were you in the system, what happened to your parents?
RPC-214: I killed them.
Dr.███████: You can stop with the jokes now, you can trust me, kid.
RPC-214: One morning, I woke up to my parents screaming at each other. They fought all the time. Normally I had to wake up early and cook them breakfast. Mom was curling her hair while yelling at my dad for "never using a condom". They were talking about me, by the way. Once they saw me get out, their anger shifted towards me. They both started yelling at me, and my dad got his belt out and was walking towards me. I was used to being whipped by him, though, but Mom was going to clamp my neck with her curling iron, and I guess in that moment, something flipped on and I went into self-defense mode.
Dr.███████: What happened?
RPC-214: The entire set of cutlery flew into them. I think I fainted from the shock or something. The next thing I remember is being taken in by a police officer.
Dr.███████: I take it that's how you ended up in the system.
RPC-214: I was 11. They took me in and "rehabilitated" me. None of my close relatives wanted to take me in, since they all thought I was a murderer. Well, I kinda was.
Dr.███████: Do you think you're a violent person?
RPC-214: I hope not.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: Interview Concluded.
Interviewed: RPC-214
Interviewer: Dr.███████
Foreword: Interview conducted the day following acquisition.
<Begin Log>
Dr.███████: So, RPC-214, you mentioned that this "David Jettison" was an artist of sorts. Can you tell me what he did exactly?
RPC-214: As much as I'm grateful for him taking me in, what he did, does, is vile.
Dr.███████: Do you want to share, or should I move on?
RPC-214: He kills people. And he calls it art. The most fucked up part of it is that he isn't even a bad person.
Dr.███████: So he's a serial killer?
RPC-214: Kinda. He leads this group, group of weirdos and wackjobs. They all fashion themselves as artists. They all kill for art. It's disgusting.
Dr.███████: Is it like a cult?
RPC-214: In a way. They've all deluded themselves into thinking that murder is the purest form of art.
Dr.███████: How do you know about all of this, if you are comfortable with sharing?
RPC-214: He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. He heard about my art from a local competition. "Orphan Boy wins Art Competition with innovative sculpture." It piqued his interest, and once he saw my backstory, I guess he was set. When he first adopted me, I didn't know about his "art." He waited about a year, and that's when it started. I had built up such an attachment as well, he was so good to me. I knew what they were doing was wrong once I learned of it, but I didn't want to end up losing him as a father.
Dr.███████: What did she show you?
RPC-214: No. He wanted me to start getting involved. I want to say he forced me to be there. I hate it. Death, killing, blood. It's absolutely disgusting. Disgusting. He told me that me and my abilities would be the Martin Luther King to his movement, the Lenin to his revolution. There was nothing I could do. He started teaching me how to control my abilities more precisely. My practice subjects were…
Dr.███████: It's alright. You don't need to go any further.
RPC-214: Thank god.
Dr.███████: Is there a reason why you prefer using actual brushes and canvas rather than just… manifesting art according to your desire?
RPC-214: That cheapens it. I want what I make to actually be "made", not uh, "manifested"
Dr.███████: Right. Well, I've arranged for you to be able to continue a private high school course here. Is there anything you'd like to ask for?
RPC-214: A TV would be nice.
<End Log>
Closing Statement: Interview concluded.
Addendum-2:
Foreword: A small cassette recovered in an abandoned warehouse that was named by RPC-214 as having been one of the meeting places of the aforementioned "Outsiders"
<Begin Log>
Man 1: Test, Testing, Testing. Oh good.
<Speaking more directly, muffled and frantic yelling can be heard in the background>
Man 1: This is David Jettison, with a new piece- live!
David: Max, lad, could you go get the saw for me?
RPC-214: O-Okay…
<Faintly>
RPC-214: I'm so sorry.
David: Maxwell! Do not speak to the canvas! Go get the saws.
<The sound of soft steps upstairs can be heard in the distance. Loud metallic clanging, followed by another set of footsteps, this time down the stairs is heard.>
David: Ah! Thank you.
<The sound of footsteps heading away from the mic is heard. A slight metallic sound is immediately following by extremely loud and agonized screaming, accompanied by a wet, hacking sound. Eventually, the sound becomes similar to that of metal grinding against bone.>
RPC-214: Dad, Please stop!
David: Maxwell, sit still and watch quietly. This is important work I'm doing.
RPC-214: I don't want to look at this! This isn't art, this is murder!
David: Alright then, you can go upstairs. One day you'll appreciate these lessons.
<Quick and anxious footsteps upstairs are once again heard. The hacking and sawing temporarily stops.>
David: Why can't that boy understand. You understand, right?
<Anguished moaning is heard, a mixture of groaning and sobbing>
David: Thank you. I assure you your sacrifice will not be in vain.
<The sawing resumes, along with the screams of the unknown individual>
<The screams are suddenly cut short by a loud and swift clash of metal.>
David: It is done. Not a drop wasted.
David: He won't even come to look at it…
<End Log>
Addendum-3: The following is an excerpt from a document recovered from an apparent "Outsiders" warehouse shortly after acquisition of RPC-214.
Maxwell is missing. He went out to go retrieve some supplies and he never came back. I think that one of my rivals may have taken him to use for a piece, maybe. No, that can't be it, nobody is that bold. I hope he comes back soon, there are still so many things I'd like to teach him.
Max still isn't back. I'm beginning to think, he had been so quiet. I thought things were improving, but maybe, maybe he decided to leave? No, surely not, even though we had our disagreements, we always got back up, right? He'll be back soon enough.
I think he's been kidnapped. That has to be it. Otherwise he would be back by now. The warehouse is so lonely with nobody here. I haven't been able to make anything since he disappeared. No inspiration.
I need to dig and find out who took him. Surely I can negotiate with them. I know for certain he didn't run away. He would never be so reckless, knowing full well the dangers of being a runaway. Surely our disagreements aren't unpleasant enough to warrant that kind of risk-taking. I will rescue Maxwell.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I have to find him.
(There are no further entries)
Addendum-4:
The following is a message that was sent to a secure intranet server within the Authority Administrative building.
(Please forward this to Maxwell)
Max.
I want you to know that this isn't David Jettison writing this.I want you to know that I miss you. I want you to know that. The house is empty since you've ran. I want you to know that my heart hasn't been in my art since you ran away. I've no inspiration anymore. I want you to know that going to the cinema and galleries and theatres isn't the same anymore. I feel a vast emptiness within me.
When I adopted you, I never imagined that I would feel like a parent towards you. I just thought of it as a mentor-student relationship. But since then, I've grown to see you as more than just my student, but my son, my own flesh and blood. I miss you, Max, I truly do. I want you to know that.
But most importantly, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for forcing my views on you.
I want you to come home.
We can be a normal family.
I'll even give up my art.
Just please, please, give me this chance.
Come home, Maxwell.████, your father.