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[DolosusDoleus]

Elder Signs
OOC
”Evil never dies. Darkness never retreats. In the cracks and the crevices of our society there are monsters undreamed of by the rank and file of humanity. I’ve been there. I’ve seen them. They exist in the spaces between things, in the folds of existence where we can’t find them. Sometimes they cross over, sometimes they manifest, and all Hell breaks loose. Only this is not Hell, nor Heaven. This is like nothing anyone has ever understood.”
Dearthwater, New Jersey
February 16, 1986
06:46:23

A grubby white box with two doors facing each other. The ceiling is too low for comfort, the room too brightly lit by blinding fluorescent lights. Damp creeps out of one corner and the plaster has erupted with flaking blisters, speckled with black mould. Someone had tried to scrub a long bloodstain from one wall, but hadn’t tried nearly hard enough.

In the center of this room sits an old man, his finely pressed suit somewhat clashing with his unkempt, grizzled demeanor. Perched upon a metal stool, behind a steel table, he peers down at a messy assortment of papers, files, and documents. He grumbles to himself, occasionally running his wrinkled hands through his patchy, unkempt white hair.

The deafening silence permeating the room is suddenly broken, as a speaker on the far wall crackles to life. ”Colonel? The contacts are here. Sending them down to you now.” As the sound dies away again, the old man slumps back. Haphazardly, the papers get sorted into messy piles as the sounds of five pairs of footsteps grow louder and louder. When the door finally opens, there is only one thing left on the center of the table: a large manilla envelope embossed with two words: DELTA GREEN.

”Sirs. Madam. Do please come in. Time is of the essence.”

[Maximum Spin]

Neil enters quietly.

[Glass]

Jackson’s got... something in his hands that he’s messing around with. It looks to be made of paper clips and not much else. When he lets go of it, it flies up, like a helicopter, before hitting the ceiling and falling to pieces above his head.

He’s whistling the whole time. William Tell Overture, by the sound of it.

[Hibou]

Will steps gingerly over the wreckage of the flying machine before giving the colonel a respectful nod and assuming his place next to Neil.

[Stirk]

"Time is always of the essence in this line of work." Dr. West fixes her glasses before standing next to the others.

[bloop_bleep]

PTW

[DolosusDoleus]

As the group shuffles in, the old man stares with piercingly blue eyes at each newcomer until the next comes through the door. He makes no sound, not at the flying machine clattering to the ground nor to  Will’s nod, but for a slight grunt at Dr. West’s comment. He goes over all of you once more with a steely gaze before finally opening his mouth once more, a deep gravelly voice emerging from his throat.

”Let’s dispose of the pleasantries, you all know why you’re here.

There’s a town called Hatchwick, a few hours drive away from here. Yesterday, a construction worker by the name of Arthur West and a thirteen year old boy named Justin Evers were rushed to the hospital there, each with gashes from the claws of some unknown animal, the wounds infected by a strange black bacteria. What caught our attention was that the germs were spreading too damn quickly, and the doctor’s reports said that the crap looked like it was eating the poor bastards alive.”

He pauses, pushing the envelope across the table towards all of you.

”That’s pretty much everything we know. We’re sending you in under the guise of being CDC officials and doctors, there to investigate the disease. You’ll find everything you need for that in this envelope. Some fake IDs, some official looking documents that should hold off any questions, and a summary of everything we know so far. If it turns out to all be a wild goose chase, report back here. If not, find the source of whatever it is that’s going on, destroy it, and get out. You’ll only have a few days before the actual CDC gets wind of this and shows up.”

He pauses once more, slowly looking around the group and scanning each of your faces.

“This goes without saying, but be discreet. You’re all lucky that Hatchwick isn’t too big, and some strange things can get written off as crazy stories from the local drunk. The CDC cannot be allowed to know if something alien is going on. Same thing for the press. If things get out of hand those Majestic bastards’ll be on the case faster than you can even think. They will be able to sniff you out.

If you have any questions, now is the time to ask them. You won’t be able to get in contact with us once you’re on the scene.

[Maximum Spin]

Should we take suppressive measures to try to stall the spread of the story?

[Hibou]

"Are we going to have access to any lab equipment for analyzing this bacteria?"

[Glass]

*Jackson isn't really sure why people want him involved with this, but is willing to go along*

[DolosusDoleus]

Should we take suppressive measures to try to stall the spread of the story?

”If you feel you have to. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with anything like that.”

"Are we going to have access to any lab equipment for analyzing this bacteria?"

“Your CDC clearance should give you access to the hospital labs. But besides that, no.”

*Jackson isn't really sure why people want him involved with this, but is willing to go along*

The old man seems to notice your confusion, and raises an eyebrow at you.

[Hibou]

Will nods. "How about ordinance? If we're doing this quietly, we can't waltz in there with rifles over our shoulders. Do we have any contacts in the town that can cover that?"

[Stirk]

"Arthur West....Would he happen to be a relative of mine?"

[evictedSaint]

J.J. Lewis rubs a hand over his face and contemplates the implications of the rapidly-spreading infection. "Do we have any labwork on the bacterium?  If we have some idea of what we're up against it we would be able to plan accordingly.  Silver rounds aren't cheap, and it'd be nice to know if cold iron would work just as well."

[DolosusDoleus]

Will nods. "How about ordinance? If we're doing this quietly, we can't waltz in there with rifles over our shoulders. Do we have any contacts in the town that can cover that?"

”You’ll find a few pistols in the car we’re giving you. If all goes well you won’t have to use them.”

"Arthur West....Would he happen to be a relative of mine?"

”I don’t believe so. Not unless you have family in Hatchwick.”

J.J. Lewis rubs a hand over his face and contemplates the implications of the rapidly-spreading infection. "Do we have any labwork on the bacterium?  If we have some idea of what we're up against it we would be able to plan accordingly.  Silver rounds aren't cheap, and it'd be nice to know if cold iron would work just as well."

”Nothing that we know of. It’s possible that the hospital’s done some research already, but we don’t have access to it at this time.”