((I am but one thing first))
"I'd hate for this stuff to rot on use," ALexis said as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Ooh, I know!"
Purchase a large container and several bags of ice. Place the organ into the container and pour ice over them. Put the container in a hidden spot in the lab and go home to Hubby.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d10
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: 4
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d6
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
$339
Purse
You carefully place the organs in a styrofoam cooler and fill it with ice (-3 dollars). You then slip the cooler into a hidden corner of the lab and further hide it behind some boxes and lab manuals. That done, you head home.
Helen went through the routine of maintaining her camera, recharging it and preparing it for tomorrow. She was using it a lot more with this cult business, so a little extra attention to it was warranted. Plus it helped take her mind off this overwhelming fear and help her relax enough to go to sleep. Despite that she still felt uneasy as she headed to her bed. She decided being paranoid was better than being dead, so she searched for some precaution that would put her mind at ease.
Put a glass bottle or a jar or something in front of my bedroom door as an improvised alarm, a last line of defence. Better safe than sorry.
Set the alarm for early in the morning. Gonna pay a visit to Mr. M. Santana tomorrow, so I better get there as early as possible.
Name: Helen Hywater, though she insists on calling herself "The Recorder" during cult related activities
Appearance: A young girl (that looks more like she's in her late 20s) with short dark hair and green eyes. Tends to wear a dark brown trenchcoat and fedora during cult related activities to avoid suspicion.
Backstory: Has a fascination with recording stuff for posterity and specifically cameras. Makes her way through life doing odd jobs and videotaping things, sometimes things she probably shouldn't record. She's even managed to make some short films. She's a bit weird and she knows it but she doesn't care. As for why she's with the cult, she mostly just wants to record stuff and then sell them for fame and loads of money. Maybe she can make the world's first real found footage film.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d10
Endurance: d8
Awareness: d12
Guile: d8
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: d8 (The Scholar in Red)
World Stats:
Connections: d10
Possessions: d4
Money: d4
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Clothes
A high-end handheld camcorder with flashlight and infrared nightvision capability
Rented grey sedan (6 days left)
1 tape copy
3165$
You place an empty coke bottle against your bedroom door and then set your alarm clock for early the next morning.
Head for home and bed.
Name: Alexander Sill
Appearance: A well-built man in his late thirties, who walks with a slight limp.
Backstory: A career soldier, though that career was brought to an abrupt end after the invasion of Grenada left him discharged with a shiny medal and a leg wound which will probably never fully heal. Since then he has struggled along, through a series of short-lived, dead-end jobs, searching for a new purpose in life. He now seems to have found one.
Physical stats:
Strength: d10
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d6
Endurance: d12
Awareness: d8
Guile: d6
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d6
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favour: 1
World Stats:
Connections: d8
Possessions: d6
Money: d6
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Murphy's Shotgun (Remington 870, shortened barrel, pistol grip; loaded), pocketfull of shells.
Toolbox (wrench, pliers, jeweler's saw, tire iron)
Kaiser Jeep M715 (dark blue)
Newspaper
$376 cash
Cue the sun.
Time to head home.
Name: Richard Reed
Appearance: A well dressed man in his mid-twenties, he sports short brown hair and a well kempt mustache.
Backstory: Richard discovered the cult when one of his less prestigious connections informed him about otherwordly beings and of the knowledge these beings possess. Intent to learn this secret knowledge, he set out to join the cult.
Physical stats:
Strength: d4
Dexterity: d6
Speed: d6
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d8
Guile: d12
Knowledge: d10
Willpower: d8
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: d12
World Stats:
Connections: d12
Possessions: d4
Money: d6
Standing: d8
Inventory:
Notebook
Pen
Drawing of the sigil, my visions and the visions from the bookshop lady.
Borrowed anatomy and medical books
Sedatives
$759
Go home.
Name: Ailn
Appearance: Wrinkly, frail, and raggedy. She's actually not very old, and much faster than she looks, but certainly has an unhealthy look about her. Dark hair and eyes.
Backstory: Child of wealth, persistent illness, oddly unbreakable will. She left, of course. She doesn't see much use in money, though her family makes sure she has plenty of it. She'd like to be able to cure her illness, and maybe make some sense of this crazy world. Maybe going a little crazy will help, if that's what it takes.
Physical stats:
Strength: d6
Dexterity: d8
Speed: d8
Endurance: d6
Awareness: d6
Guile: d10
Knowledge: d6
Willpower: d12
Occult stats:
Corruption: 0
Madness: 0
Favor: d10
World Stats:
Connections: d4
Possessions: d6
Money: d12
Standing: d4
Inventory:
old messenger bag
coffee mug
pair of dice
notebook
pen
key ring
key to a Chevrolet Camaro
surgical tools (v. sharp and professional!)
regrettably fuzzy handcuffs
trash bags
$294
Everyone goes to bed. And they all dream the same thing: Running. They dream of running from some unseen horror which nips at their ankles, through dark and monolithic trees that loom down over them. Every time they look over their shoulder to see what chases them, they get a glimpse of nothing but a seemingly ordinary human face atop something wholly inhuman. A different face each time, anonymous men and women, none familiar, stretched over the hunting maw of some terrible beast. You see scattered corpses of other men and women off to the side of the forest path, the familiar sigils of the other hidden gods carved upon their foreheads. Just as the beast bounds forward in a leap that is set to crash down on you, the forest melts away and you find yourself in a void of red. The void splits and opens into an eye, staring directly at you. Your fellow cult members fade into being around you and you feel a profound feeling of protection and safety.
And then, as you move to be with them, something flashes through your memory, fragments of past images: A Library sign with "Silence is golden" on it, a fence with "Beware of the Dog", and others like it. They fracture and come together like words cut from magazines and pasted on a ransom letter.
"BEWARE THE SILENT ONE. THEY SEEK YOUR END. TRUST NO ONE."
Author
Topic: CULT (Read 76402 times)