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I Am Monster
 
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Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in Monsters, Abominations, and Redshirts' LiveJournal:

Friday, December 23rd, 2005
4:47 pm
Subbasement 4A
Ready or not, there's work to be done, and whatever state subbasement 4A is in, Liz Sherman, Abe Sapien, Henry Sherman-Townshend, and St. John Allerdyce are the lucky souls charged with restoring it to semi-working order. Liz, less than thrilled, leads the way, trying out a number of codes harvested from scraps of paper scattered around the basement areas investigated and cleaned thus far.
038294249 Nothing.
448201748 Nothing.
100284527 Still nothing.
942884631 Fourth time's the charm. With a hiss and the scraping of long-neglected gears, the magnetic seal disengages, and the doors slide open.

Feeling around on the wall on the other side of the door does yield a set of light switches, but flipping them has, sadly, no effect. Mmm, cleaning while blind. Yes, God apparently does hate you that much.

Well, all right, it turns out to be not quite that bad. Oddly enough, the "EXIT" (and, in smaller letters, "Ausschußloch") sign above the door you've just walked through is still in operation, throwing a low level of red light on the room. That little bit of light and your flashlight beams reveal the source of the problem. There probably isn't any electrical problem, there are just no lights to be operated at present. All the bulbs of the ceiling lights have been smashed, and those of a couple desk lamps have been unscrewed and set aside. On the bright side, somebody must've been kind enough to clean up all the broken glass back before the place was cleared out. The only shards glittering in the light are those still attached to the destroyed light sources.

As for the room? Maybe the other guys went through their hole in the wall and found a chamber of fabulously bizarre and incomprehensible machinery, but you guys seem to have lucked into... an office. File cabinets line the walls, a couple of desks stand dusty and abandoned, drawers ajar and damp old files and papers stuffed inside. The labels on the file cabinets are all in both English and German. "Personnel - Personal A-Af" "Medical records - Medizinische Aufzeichnungen K-Ll" "Psch. Profiles - Psch. Profile Mi-Mo" Most of the documents are in English, written about individuals with names like Karl Tauboeck, Franz Strauss, Friedrich Hoffman, Gerhart Schubert, Dieter Strang, Hans Jürgen Werner, and Arthur Demnitz. The names of the authors and examiners, on the other hand, tend towards the likes of Edgar Bloom, Thomas Gustafson, Barry Edwards, and Alex Demarais.

There's another magnetically-sealed door on the other side of the room with another keypad set beside it, but there's plenty of work to be done to make what's between here and there a respectable working environment. The place is damn musty, dust over every surface broken only by the tiny tracks here and there of rodents or roaches scurrying about. A couple of the file cabinets have fallen over, their drawers upturned on the floor and their contents scattered. Opening one of the desk drawers reveals a high concentration of rat droppings amidst a nest of shredded post-war documents. The ceiling lights are probably a loss for now, but the desk lamps might be operable given bulbs and safe outlets.

(( I shall be here no later than 11 PM EST, at which time we shall begin. I'm thinking we can also try an AIM chatroom for OOC chatter and coordination, if that works with all y'all. We'll see! In the meantime, feel free to putz around in the room and chat your characters amongst themselves as you wish. ))
4:47 pm
Subbasement 4B
If not for a piece of red tape slapped on the wall, you would've had a hard time figuring out exactly where you were supposed to be going. Some agent or technician cleaning up around here must've had a hell of a sharp eye. With the location marked, though, you can see what caught their attention. The concrete wall here is just a few shades lighter than the surroundings, a bit rougher to the touch, and occurs in a vaguely rectangular shape some 8 feet high and 6 feet wide. You can't hear anything from the other side, but have been assured that a quick scan of the area showed that there is indeed open space on the other side of this wall where there ought to be solid rock.

Whatever's on the other side, it's fallen to Hellboy, Roger, Warren Peace, and Hatoko to find out and report back on the viability of transforming it into something conducive to regular Bureau use. Oh, and to clean up, though whether that means moving fallen blocks of stone, sweeping up dust, or throwing out mouse carcasses is anybody's guess. Ask not what your country can do for you...

(( Hey guys, sorry that I don't have more description for you at present. This area will be owned and operated by the excellent Mr. NPC #B, and I do not know all of his plans for you! However, until the show gets on the road, feel free to hang out outside the hole and/or create the hole and chat your characters amongst yourselves as you wish. Have a pleasant evening! :D ))
4:45 pm
Radio Contact
Click, click. Channel 2.

Static...



(( Liz Sherman and Roger are in possession of short-range walkie-talkies. This post is open only to them, or whoever they should find it necessary to hand the radio off to. ))
Wednesday, December 21st, 2005
12:43 am
(( Whut up! First post, testing testing, blah blah blah, Heil Lord Boogieman.



P.S. If my Interests are lacking in some specific fashion, speak and I shall devour your brain last listen. ))
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