How unprofessional. Find the cleanup guy and demand an explanation. After taking out all the trash of course. And bringing the blood to the workers. Seriously, the nerve of that guy.
(3)
You get a shoggoth by the name of Fred to haul the paperwork out of the building, but he gobbles up the bloodstained rags before you can offer them to any of the workers in accounting. Oh, well. A skipped lunch break isn’t really your problem, even if people are more likely to decide that the janitor would make good a snack.
You find the viscera cleanup guy outside the shipping department, contemplating a very suspicious pair of r͚̖̘̕u̠b̜̰b̫̗e̩̼r͎͉ g͉̬͞l͖͘o͔͔v̢͔̦̳e̜̕s̞͔. You’re not sure what he’s up to, but he definitely hasn’t been putting severed body parts where they belong.
"Is the black pharaoh at it again? Stay put Bob, and give a screech if someone starts causing trouble."
Check to see if Eshe needs some help dealing with nyarlathotep again. He frequents often due to his innumerable incarnations, and is one of the few capable of generating this much paperwork, Not to mention the love-hate relationship after she beat the metaphorical socks off them and got hired as one of the forward facing accountants.
(1)
The cloud-thing flashes you a look of complete and utter terror, then floats down the hallway at what you think might be its top speed.
Was that Eshe? Things made of sulfurous gas are pretty hard to tell apart.
That’s about when the tide of paper gives way to a tide of giant cockroaches. You’re really not sure whether that’s normal, but it’s probably safe to assume that the swarm of insectile horrors is out for blood.
Look into one of the emails that aren’t translated into unholy runes to figure out why the fuck does he keep spamming me
(5)
You have been randomly selected to receive a free .pdf copy of the Necronomicon (530 BC, Hastur Edition)!
Please CLICK HERE to receive your prize! Name: Soh
Appearance: A giant, floating smiley face. It can somehow manipulate objects just like a creature with hands could and pass through doorways.
Position: Therapist
You’re a part of EMBR’s newly-formed Mental Health Office, which is simultaneously gigantic and understaffed. Working with patients who have witnessed the unthinkable is a little touch-and-go, but as a giant smiley face, you can very confidently say that you are the man for the job.
The next patient on your schedule is John Smith, a human who’s suffering from “a sense of complete irrelevance on the cosmic scale.” Join the club, buddy.
Be as nice as possible, but make the procedure as unnecessarily complicated as possible; if it's nigh impossible to submit complaints, then I should never have to worry about complaints being submitted!
And if he wants to complain about that, who will he complain to? Muahahaha...
(1)
Niz’thur falls silent as you talk him in circles, and his maws begin to contort into a thousand grimaces and snarls. The columns of steam billowing from his face turn into a choking black smog.
“DOOO NOOOOOOT CRRRRROOOOOOSSSS MEEEEEEE, HUUUMAAAAAN!”Name: Joe
Appearance: Tall, Blond, covered in scars from defending his position over the years, slightly substandard number of fingers... wears a pair of blue overalls and black shoes.
Position: Coffee and other fluids guy
According to EMBR, you are the “official beverage distributor,” which really means that you go around getting people drinks and replenishing the blood coolers in break rooms. It’s an unforgiving job at the best of times, but everyone seems to want lots of coffee, water, and nutrient slime today. You’re going to have to get ahold of enough fluids to fill their orders, and fast.
Save the juicy bits for bribes! Bribes for better equipment: bigger mops, sturdier buckets (with wheels!), better protective gear, genetic and metaphysical upgrades. The usual.
(6)
You mop up the blood, throw out the nastiest parts of the entrails, and deposit the remaining viscera in buckets from a nearby janitorial closet. The bigwigs might not want this stuff, but you know a guy from shipping who will definitely be interested. A bottle of dinosaur blood here, three kilos of human flesh there, and he’d be happy to send some contraband your way.
You can’t quite remember the ensuing negotiation, but you soon find yourself with a heavy duty pair of r͚̖̘̕u̠b̜̰b̫̗e̩̼r͎͉ g͉̬͞l͖͘o͔͔v̢͔̦̳e̜̕s̞͔, fresh from some cartel in the outer realms. You can’t seem to look directly at them, but they have a reassuring presence at the edges of your mind.
Name: Cole Wheeler
Description: 5'4", 24 year old male college student. The kind of guy they put on brochures.
Position: intern, hired to help IT convert the office to digital. All that paper means a very expensive waste company contract.
Since the day it came to be, the IT department has dreamed of eliminating EMBR’s massive paper trail. What they didn’t realize was that doing so required them to create digital versions of all 10^98654 types of forms. A team of underpaid interns was hired to process the record-breaking quantity of paperwork, and the rest of the department decided that they had another,
very urgent pile of reports to fill out.
You are one of the unlucky interns. Having just completed the 10^36th digital form, you have several hours of free time before someone remembers to send you the next load of papers.
Complete paperwork at incredible speeds attained through the benefit of long practice and myriad extra hands emergent from the void.
(3)
You call upon the bureaucratic powers of the void, summoning up a thousand disembodied hands to fill out your mountain of paperwork. Binders are opened and filled out, reports are annotated, and at least ninety different varieties of form are neatly organized on your desk.
Everything seems to be going smoothly until you actually look at the completed papers. What info you can puzzle out is mostly sound, but the handwriting is completely illegible. There’s no way you can send this stuff out to your boss!