"I know I'm human. And if you were all these things, then you'd just attack me right now, so some of you are still human. This thing doesn't want to show itself, it wants to hide inside an imitation. It'll fight if it has to, but it's vulnerable out in the open. If it takes us over, then it has no more enemies, nobody left to kill it. And then it's won."
-R.J. MacCready
Spoiler
The date is Jan. 27, 1982. If you are listening to this recording, then in all likelihood I am dead. Or worse.
I found this tape recorder stowed in the sleeping quarters of a pilot who was stationed here at Outpost #31, a pilot named "R.J. MacCready." I have played the tape back and front, but I discovered little of use; most of the tape is blank or full hushed whispers so quiet that I can't make out the words.
There is only one section of the tape that I could decipher, near the beginning. The speaker, who I assume to be MacCready, states that they have discovered the existence of the creature, and ends his report with this phrase:
"Nobody... nobody trusts anybody now, and we're all very tired... there's nothing more I can do .... just wait ..."
I feel somewhat uneasy that by making this recording, as I am in all likelihood erasing a man's final words. Of course, I cannot be sure that MacCready is dead — we haven't accounted for the bodies of all the scientists yet — but the bloodied handprint that rests in the centre of the wall above MacCready's bed tells me that it is unlikely we will find him alive.
At least, I hope not.
Although it's probably pointless, I feel I need to make a record of some kind so that ... if someday our own kind or something else return to this outpost, they will know that ... that we did our best to stop it. That we tried.
Over a month ago, I was assigned to command a special investigation into Outpost #31, an Antarctic research station commissioned by United States National Science Foundation. Days before, a transmission had been received from the outpost stating that the scientists stationed there had discovered something strange in the ice, though the report did not specify what. Further attempts to contact the station failed.
As I read the file on Outpost #13 and the records of the men assigned to me, I noticed that, although I recognized some names, I had never served or worked with any of them.
When I questioned the selection of personnel, the officer who was briefing me stated somewhat hesitantly tha "special operatives" had been assigned to the mission whose identity was top-secret. In fact, none of the soliders selected for this assignment had any previous knowledge of any other, and had been hand-picked for that reason.
I strenously objected bringing operatives on a mission whose purpose I was kept unaware, but my protests were ignored. By digging, however, I was able to glean the name of this group: the "Psi-Nine."
Of course, we had plenty of time on the trip to get to know each other. It took weeks to reach Outpost #31, first by boat and then by air. And as we moved forward, the days grew shorter and shorter until the sun disappeared altogether. It grew so cold, dropping to nearly
Upon arriving at the outpost, we conducted an immediate search of the facility. The place was in chaos; many of the rooms had been seemingly torn apart, and the radios had all been smashed, along with a small helicopter.
There was one survivor, if you could call it that: a white sled dog, who we found curled up in the corner of the kennels, half-dead from thirst and lack of food. Knowing what I do now, I wish to God I had put a bullet in the beast's head.
Our information indicated there were at least a dozen scientists at the outpost. At least eight of them we found in an open courtyard, their bodies dumped into a crude firepit and burned beyond recognition. Some were seemingly human, but there were others ... Although their bodies were badly damaged, the remains were twisted and mishappen, and some had extraneous limbs and body parts that we couldn't even identify ...
We found others in the basement of the facility, where the boiler was located. These were normal corpses, however, although they were beginning to decompose despite the extreme cold. They had seemingly been killed by wounds to their chests and throats; one man had massive gaping holes in his torso that looked to the marks of giant fangs.
We also found a homemade explosive in the basement, and we surmised that the men who had been killed were trying to set off the bomb before they died.
I could feel the men on edge immediately. I would have ordered an immediate withdrawal, but coming into the outpost, we had just barely beat a fierce blizzard. The wind picked up, and temperatures dropped to 40 below zero. We had no choice except to dig ourselves in at what was left of the facility.
For two nights, we had free rein of Outpost #31. During our down time, we investigated further, and were able to make a valuable find: notes made by a researcher named Blair on an invasive virus-like entity capable of perfectly mimicing other biological organisms. The notes were not conclusive on this fact, but they indicated the entity had been found hibernating in the ice.
On the third night, we came face-to-face with the Thing.
I was in the break room along when I heard a long scream coming from the kennels. I leapt up and raced down the corridor to find a young solider that the others had dubbed "KerfuffleMach2" crouched along the floor. His face was pale, his eyes were wide open and sweat poured down his face.
I asked him what was wrong, and he recovered enough to point a trembling finger at the door to the kennels.
"I don't know what the hell's in there, Captain," he whispered, "but it's weird and pissed off, whatever it is."
Several others had shown up by then — Kay, "pankake", JMK, Ramebriz and others — and they crowded around me as I pushed open the door.
One of the men under my command was a young technician named Frederick Oliver Emping who the others had dubbed "Face." He was lying on the floor, writhing in pain and yet unable to cry out, as a mass of rubbery tentacles was thrust into his mouth and down his throat.
Hovering over him was the sled dog, its paws planted firmly on his chest. But it had undergone a monstrous transformation. Its sides and back had literally split open, revealing the thing's organs thundering in its body, and from those gaping wounds emerged seemingly dozens of thin tentacles that were piercing his lungs, his stomach, his wrists ... everywhere.
As we watched, we saw the Thing changing, morphing somehow. As Face's convulsions slowed, it seemed to grow larger and larger, and its head began to shift into a more humanlike appearance.
When we gained our wits, we opened fire on the Thing. It let out a piercing, inhuman wail as the bullets slammed into it, but it did not budge from its position atop Face's chest.
What happened next was a blur. I had emptied my clip into the dog but it had barely flinched. I retreated from the door and saw Eksar Lindisfar moving towards the door, hauling a flamethrower. I recall shouting "MOVE!" as Lindisfar moved to the door, and a second later, flame was spurting out in front of me into the kennels, engulfing Face and the Thing alike. It struggled and writhed for some time, but finally the dog collapsed into a burning heap. It did not move again.
Patting Eksar on the back for his quick thinking, I went to examine the bodies. Face was dead, of course; there was nothing we could do for him. He had been choked and pierced in nearly two dozen places.
As we examined the smoldering corpse of the dog, young Lindisfar pointed at the body and said fearfully, "Captain ... this Thing ... it's almost starting to look like Face."
I saw that he was correct. Most of the dog's feature had disappeared except for a long jawline, and what remained looked lik a mixture of Face's features and the animal's, frozen in the midst of transforming.
"I would say you're correct," I said. "It looks like ... like it would have looked just like him ... if we had given it more time."
Finally I realized the implications of what we were facing, and what had happened at Outpost #31.
I called a meeting in the main break room, letting it be known that anyone skipping would be considered a threat.
I updated those who weren't there of the situation. I let them know that we were potentially dealing with a lifeform they had never seen before and who could mimic anyone.
And then finally I asked: who came into contact with this dog over the past few days?
Everyone whispered to each other, but remained silent. Finally, it was KerfuffleMach2 who spoke up.
Voting will now commence for Day 1. The day shall end on Wednesday evening at 10 p.m. Mountain Time. Good luck.
Da Rules:
Spoiler
There will be a Day and a Night, just as in Werewolf Games. One player will be lynched each day, and special abilities will go off at night (though the Medium can use his/her ability at any time.)
Players are split into three categories: Grunts (Villagers), Psychics (Special Roles) and The Thing (Werewolves).
If a player is 'scanned' by a Telepath, only their class will be revealed, NOT their special role.
Each Thing has the ability to 'infect' other players, and any player may become a Thing with the exception of the Assassin. However, a maximum of 1-3 players can be infected each round (the maximum will start at three, and may decrease as the game progresses).
Anyone who does not vote for two rounds will be auto-lynched.
The Grunts and (most of) the Psychics win if all the Things, the Traitor and the Assassin are eliminated. The Things win if they outnumber the Grunts and Psychics. The Assassin wins if he's the only player left standing.
Grunts:
Spoiler
Most of the players will be ordinary Grunts, the guys caught in the crossfire. They have no power except to vote.
The Thing:
Spoiler
The game will start out with three Things. While the Thing is the same entity, each 'part' of the Thing is an individual being, and as such, they have no knowledge of other Things except those they infect.
The three starting Things vote during the day and have an optional ability to 'infect' other players at night. Again, this is OPTIONAL — the Things do not have to use their ability each night, or any night.
Each Thing has the ability to infect THREE other players. Once these abilities are used up, the Thing can no longer infect other players. Infection has a 100 per cent success rate except for the Assassin; any Thing attempting to infect the Assassin is KILLED.
If a Thing attempts to infect another Thing, the attempt results in failure, but does not use up one of the Infections. It does, however, reveal the existence of both "Things" to each other.
Each Thing can only use its ability ONCE EACH NIGHT.
Newly-infected Things retain their memories as humans. They do not, however, retain their powers if they were Psychics.
If one of the starting Things has been killed, any remaining infections he has will pass to the others, preferably to any Things he/she has infected.
Psychics:
Spoiler
The Psychics are split into several types. As stated before, Psychic scry as Psychic and may be Infected with the exception of the Assassin. They consist of:
Three Telepaths: Each Telepath has the ability to scry one player each night.
The Twins: The Twins share an empathic link; they know who each other are from the start of the game. The experiences of each Twin is shared by the other; as such, the two players should work in concert.
If one of the Twins is infected, killed or lynched, the surviving Twin is given one free 'Kill' that may be used at any time, day or night. The idea is that the Kill will be used against one of the Twin's killer, or against the other Twin if he is infected.
The Assassin: A pyrokinetic. Cannot be converted by the Infected; he/she will always kill whichever Infected attempts to convert him. They may be lynched, however.
The Assassin MAY choose one person to kill each night, and regardless if they are a Grunt or a Thing, they will be killed. This will be done by PMing the Narrator. He/she continues killing even if the Traitor and the Things are dead.
THE ASSASSIN WINS IF EVERYONE ELSE IN THE GAME IS DEAD.
The Traitor: A fourth Telepath who has been driven mad by his ability. Sees the Thing as a "perfect beings" and will attempt to aid them by getting fellow Grunts and Psychics lynched.
May scry once a night by PM'ing the Narrator. The Traitor can be infected and turned into a Thing WITHOUT USING UP AN INFECTION ABILITY.
The Medium: The Medium may make contact with the souls of dead humans if they are lynched or killed in the night. The dead are compelled to tell him whatever they know without lying ; this may be names of fellow Grunts, Psychics or known Things. He cannot contact dead Things, as they have no souls.
The Medium can either PM a player directly or PM me; if the dead player is a Telepath or the Traitor, I will be keeping track of their scries and relay that info to the Medium. I will also relay the list of names known by the Commander.
The Commander: He's the lead officer in Psi-Nine and knows the names of who all the other eight members, THOUGH NOT THEIR ROLES. (This is done to protect the Traitor and the Assassin.)
The Commander may choose one player to protect from lynching. This is done by choosing the player the previous night and PM'ing the Narrator.
The Player List:
Spoiler
Darth Solice
Freshmeat
Raiser Blade
Keris Rain
Bushranger
Vavaara
Travelling Angel
Ominous
Mustiado
Fleeing Coward
Haruki-kun
Mordokai
Onasuma
Banjo1985
Emperor Demonking
topher
Aemoh
Irbis
I'm da Rogue!
Doseki
Darkbane
coolgaelbert
Lord Fullbladder, Master of Goblins
KerfuffleMach2
pankake
MadHatter
Dr. Bath
Eita
Eksar Lindisfar
Eldritch Knight
Kay
JMK
Someonenonotyou
Zombie pixe
DemonicAngel
Fin
Ranna
Ramebriz
gnome4ever
Dom
LeoMan
Calm down Fin, we aren't even inside yet. Your shooting at shadows... in the snow? erm, anyway just relax and start shooting when you see something real!
Ok but it was a really scary shadow... I'm frightened.
With that Fin slinks off to the back of the regiment, where it safest. On his way some of you here him mumble something about meatshields?
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Waiting for that day, when we all have the time.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dirk Kris
I'll never trust you again. Even if we're on the same team. Even if the narrators tell me to.
Looking around at the rest of the crew, Topher realizes that he can’t trust anyone, as any of them could be that thing. Raising his automatic weapon to his eye, he looks down the scope at his comrades, moving from one to the next, trying to find anything that may be unusual. His heart beat quickens; if this thing has taken any of them, the duplication is perfect.
Topher never really was one to let his fear get the better of him, but nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Stuck in this desolate wasteland, tasked with hunting something that cannot be seen and his only allies can never be trusted. Fear, it’s either his perfect enemy or perfect ally. He didn’t know what role it was playing today but neither did it matter, it was about to be in control regardless.
Not knowing what else to do, he finally comes to rest with his weapon pointed squarely at Ranna.
“You! You were always hanging around with that dog, like it was some sort of pet. You must have noticed something, and yet you never once said that you thought anything was wrong. I also recall that you conveniently weren’t present when it killed Face! Care to explain why that is!”
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You haven’t got a womb. Where’s the fetus gonna gestate; you gonna keep it in a box?
Don’t fear the darkness, fear what it hides.
Believing that he is feeling what everyone must be experiencing (complete and utter fear), Dos looks round to find a friendly face. Instantly recognising that a friendly face doesn't mean a friendly spirit, especially that MadHatter he almost looks like he has a hunger in his eye.
Right... I am going to find... someplace... your not. I think its time to find a place to barricade myself into.
DA looked around the group, trying to see the look in there eyes.. the look of a beast.
but all of them were trained killers... why would they look any different now then they were before? he heard the what Topher said, and quickly launched a comeback in the defense of Ranna.
"isn't it odd that you, from all people, start blaming others? the thing wants us divided, no? so... how do you know she was all the time with that dog unless you were with her?!"
Ominous carefully watches the others. He begins talking out of the side of his mouth to keep the large cigar he is smoking from falling out. "I recommend we remain calm and think about this logically. Killing one another is only going to help it, whatever it is." Ominous then points his rifle at Aemoh. "Don't feel like I'm singling you out. I'm only pointing at someone that no one else has pointed at to keep from killing an innocent jarhead." Ominous inhales deeply causing the cigar to light up.
__________________
May your last breath also be your mintiest.
Darkbane looks around at the rest of the team, speaking in a low, growling voice. "Ominous is right. We start trying to kill each other, and that Thing is just going to slip through the cracks. It'll spread, it'll stay alive--if we don't stay together, it'll get out. That's what we've got to stop, at all costs."
He leaves the main room, calling behind him, "I'm going to keep looking around, see if there's any more trace of the people who were here before. I'm not going to vote unless I have to, to stop you all from killing somebody innocent."
"Of course not, after being in as many fights as I've been, you're surprised when a rifle isn't being aimed in your general direction. I would have been suspicious of you, if you hadn't responded in kind." Ominous inhales the smoke from his cigar and exhales slowly.
__________________
May your last breath also be your mintiest.
Looking at the people around her, Vavaara's eyes flicked around until they settled on Fin. The twitchy man didn't look like he'd so much as let men from his own unit near him without shooting, much less a tentacled monstrosity, but one could never be too sure...
*Vavaara points at Fin*
__________________
Big thanks to Kwarkpudding for my Gladiator Tam Avatar!
"Accusing someone, raising the possiblity of death without giving any specter of evidence? Kay, now more than ever we must utilize our logic to the fullest extent.
What is even more stupid is lynching on the first day. No lynch.
((Indeed. On Something Awful, they always start with a Night Phase, so the Mafia(s) get a kill in, and it gives the villagers some evidence to back up their points. It just sucks for whoever gets killed.))
__________________
May your last breath also be your mintiest.
((Indeed. On Something Awful, they always start with a Night Phase, so the Mafia(s) get a kill in, and it gives the villagers some evidence to back up their points. It just sucks for whoever gets killed.))
Starting in the night is the best way to go though. That way at least there is some info to go on.
((I had considered this point myself, fellas. But if someone gets killed during the Night phase without getting to act, isn't it just as lame for them? I had debated whether or not to do sort of a "story round" in the first phase that would have a bearing on the rest of the game and no one got killed ... but I decided not to screw too much with the Werewolf formula.))
((I'll note that, just for flavour reasons, while there is a "day" in my game, you are actually playing in perpetual darkness. ))
A quiet, white-haired young man looks the group over carefully. He manages to stay calm, despite the rampant hysteria; this might, or might not, have anything to do with the fact that among his belongings is a book whose cover is emblazoned with "DON'T PANIC".
Not seeing any clear leads on who may or may not be becoming a Thing (and not seeing anything or anyone that looks remotely like Ben Grimm, anyway ), he shrugs, and raises a finger in the direction of KerfuffleMach2.
Eksar holding tightly the flamethrower looks at everybody around blaming each other, decides to wait and see what happens
No lynch for me tonight
__________________
Aoki Neko avatar by Quinsar (thanks a lot)
Eksar avatar by Shades of gray(thanks a lot)
Full-plated Eksar by Qwernt (thanks a lot as well)
Thanks to Meynolds for additional avatar
Thanks to all those who nominated me for Leeroy ITP
and for the votes =P
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The Thing: A Werewolf Game
))
), he shrugs, and raises a finger in the direction of 
