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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4766023" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Angular Gods: Part 1 – On the Morrow</strong></p><p></p><p>The sleepy old colonial town of Partridgeville was small and decaying, and had a New England air about it. There was a village green, narrow winding streets, clapboard cottages, and a white-steeple Congregational church. Out from the center of town, the streets broadened and straighten, and the yards were deep and shady. Out even further were housing developments and a shabby industrial area. </p><p></p><p>From the outside, Morrow’s house looked perfectly normal. It was a small, two-storied, country house with what appeared to be an attic, and was made from stone with a thatched roof. A van was parked outside. There was no sign of movement about the place, and all of the curtains were drawn closed, except in the attic where it looked as if the small gable windows had been painted over. The garden was well-trimmed, with several small rose-beds and a tall hedge enclosing it from outside observers.</p><p></p><p>“Phone line’s been cut,” said Hammer, pointing at where the wires would normally connect to the house. </p><p></p><p>They made their way inside, pistols out. Guppy disabled the alarm system and then unlocked the door.</p><p></p><p>Inside, the house was well-made, with thick stone walls and new wooden floorboards. All of the rooms combined to create the image of someone who was intensely house-proud, but at the same time loved old worn and used furniture. There were numerous antiques about, many of a simple, pine design. All of the floors were carpeted, and all the rooms were based around a central chimney which had fires in each of the three main ground floor rooms.</p><p></p><p>The entire house was curved. All the interior walls, windows, and furniture were formed without angles. It gave the normally rustic house a retro space-age look. The filling material was not part of the house proper, a sort of filler foam that clashed with the otherwise attractive home.</p><p></p><p>Archive looked around. “This is…this is very strange.”</p><p></p><p>“Spread out,” said Hammer. “Jim-Bean, Archive, see what you can find. Guppy, you’re with me.”</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean called into the comm. link from downstairs. “Just a bunch of PlayPals networked together in the basement.”</p><p></p><p>“Playpals,” said Hammer. “The same kind Tucker was trying to find at WeeBee Toys.”</p><p></p><p>“The Navi chip,” said Guppy. “The same kind of chip that ran the Dreamweb. The Crystal Matrix AI created by the Greys…”</p><p></p><p>“Destroy them,” said Hammer.</p><p></p><p>“Already did,” reported Jim-Bean. “Going upstairs next.”</p><p></p><p>Hammer stopped short at Morrow’s study. </p><p></p><p>The study was a mess, in contrast to the rest of the house, with files scattered all around the twin desks, coffee spilled across reams of computer paper, and a chair pushed over onto its side. </p><p></p><p>“Someone’s been in his study,” said Hammer. “It looks as if someone was either searching for something or was surprised and subdued after a brief struggle.”</p><p></p><p>The main desk was dominated by a PlayPal 611. The vast majority of books in the book cases were scientific journals, computer manuals, with the occasional out of date local paper or copy of MUFON. On the desks themselves are much the same thing, as well as a large number of fact files on CCS products such as all their new hardware lists, peripherals, and the like.</p><p></p><p>“Jackpot,” said Hammer.</p><p></p><p>There was a stamped package addressed to Morrow, posted four days before the night of the storm. Hammer tore it open. It contained a DVD and a note. Hammer read it to the team.</p><p></p><p>“Looks like a warning from Wang-Li Gi, Morrow’s coworker, talking about a conversation with some sort of alien intelligence.”</p><p></p><p>“Warning about what?” asked Guppy.</p><p></p><p>“An experiment that CCS was conducting without Morrow’s knowledge: PROJECT RELISH.”</p><p></p><p>Guppy pulled out a portable DVD reader and plugged it into his cistron. Then he pushed the disc into the player and hit play.</p><p></p><p>There was a crackle and hiss of a tape as it started, then dropped into the sounds of people moving about a room. In the distance, a humming could be heard, along with several muffled voices talking in whispers.</p><p></p><p>“The system is on-line and running, doctor,” said a woman with a French accent. “We should have fully tapped the subjects in less than thirty seconds.”</p><p></p><p>An old man’s soft voice responded, “How are they holding up?”</p><p></p><p>“I think that’s Lisa Patterson.” Guppy scanned the note. “The man is James Morton.”</p><p></p><p>“At present, just as expected,” said Patterson. “Heartbeat down, along with blood pressure, and reduced brain activity, just as in the previous trials. The tapping method seems to create a form of tiredness that can’t be explained by the presence of fatigue poisons. It…wait. The PlayPal is up and ready. At your command, doctor.”</p><p></p><p>“On my count?” asked Morton. “What will see this time, eh? ‘The glory of Him who moves all things soe’er impenetrates the universe, and bright the splendor burns, more here and lesser there. Within that heav’n which most receives his light was I, and saw such thing as man nor knows, nor skills to tell, returning from that height.’”</p><p></p><p>“I’m sorry, sir?” asked Patterson. “I didn’t catch the reference.”</p><p></p><p>“Never mind Lisa,” said Morton. “Just do it now.”</p><p></p><p>“Yep, that’s Lisa Patterson,” confirmed Guppy. </p><p></p><p>There was a series of rapid clicks and an increasing hum, like enraged mechanical bees, until suddenly a vast roar broke the cacophony, along with the creak and groan of metal under stress. From far off, someone gasped, and a dreadful hissing was audible, broken by the noise of something lashing back and forth. After a moment of this, a mechanical voice spoke.</p><p></p><p>“<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">WHO ARE YOU THAT YOU SHOULD DARE TO SUMMON ONE SUCH AS US THROUGH THE ANGLES?</span>”</p><p></p><p>“Forgive me, Lord, if I have caused affront, but I had wished to speak to you as seeker to boon granter,” said Morton.</p><p></p><p>“<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">BOON GRANTER?</span>” said the mechanical voice. “<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">YOUR SPEECH IS AS MUCH AN AFFRONT TO US AS YOUR THREE-SHAPED FORMS. WE SHALL TEAR AND REND WHAT REMAINS…VIRGINAL WITHIN YOU, LITTLE SHADOW.</span>”</p><p></p><p>“God, that face, it’s like –“ began Patterson.</p><p></p><p>“<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">GOD?</span>” asked the voice. “<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">YOU SPEAK OF OUR MASTER? OR DO YOU TALK OF WHAT YOU GROUNDLINGS HAVE MADE IN YOUR TEMPLES AND OFFERED PRAYERS TO? THE CREATOR WAS MADE IN YOUR IMAGE?! SUCH ARROGANCE! TO THINK YOU TIME-BOUND CREATURES ARE THE SUM OF ALL! YOU ARE NOT. YOU ARE THE SCUM ON THE SURFACE OF THE DARKNESS, THE</span> (pause) <span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">FUNGI WHICH NEEDS TO BE SCRAPED CLEAN BEFORE THE POOL IS CLEAN AGAIN.</span>”</p><p></p><p>“So you have a master?” asked Morton. “One who lies at the heart of the angles?”</p><p></p><p>“<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">OUR MASTER IS NOT FOR ONE SUCH AS YOU TO HEAR OF. NOW RELEASE ME!</span>”</p><p></p><p>The sound of metal being stressed increased and more roaring was audible.</p><p></p><p>“<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">HOW CAN YOU CONTAIN US? HOW DARE YOU? NONE OF YOUR SORCERERS HAVE DONE SO!</span>”</p><p></p><p>“Man must not rashly scorn science, eh?” asked Morton, bemused. “Simply choose and read with care to find true power, which lies in the grapes surrounded by thorns. Well, I have plucked the grapes, and they lie within my hand, as do you. Now, we do not bind one such as you without a gift. They lie there, enthralled at your presence. Their…virginal limbs, as you put it, are yours, in return for answers.”</p><p></p><p>There was a strange noise, like mechanical laughter. “<span style="font-family: 'Fixedsys'">THEN OFFER THEM TO USE AND WE SHALL SPEAK FURTHER, OF TIN’DALSOS, YOUR LIVES, AND OTHER BLOODY THINGS.</span>”</p><p></p><p>The tape ended.</p><p></p><p>“Whoever Wang-Li was,” Guppy held up an employee data sheet. “He’s dead now.” </p><p></p><p>The data sheet contained a complete listing of all twenty-three CCS employees, from the janitor to James Morton. Three names, Wang-Li Gi, Edwin Walker, and Alexander Holcroft were scored out, with the words DECEASED written by them. Eight of the names were starred with an asterisk stating, “Access to military room granted. Why?” It was accompanied by a set of security passes all stamped with a digitized picture of Walter and all bearing the CCS logo. </p><p></p><p>“We found Morrow,” said Jim-Bean. “You’d better take a look at this.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4766023, member: 3285"] [b]Angular Gods: Part 1 – On the Morrow[/b] The sleepy old colonial town of Partridgeville was small and decaying, and had a New England air about it. There was a village green, narrow winding streets, clapboard cottages, and a white-steeple Congregational church. Out from the center of town, the streets broadened and straighten, and the yards were deep and shady. Out even further were housing developments and a shabby industrial area. From the outside, Morrow’s house looked perfectly normal. It was a small, two-storied, country house with what appeared to be an attic, and was made from stone with a thatched roof. A van was parked outside. There was no sign of movement about the place, and all of the curtains were drawn closed, except in the attic where it looked as if the small gable windows had been painted over. The garden was well-trimmed, with several small rose-beds and a tall hedge enclosing it from outside observers. “Phone line’s been cut,” said Hammer, pointing at where the wires would normally connect to the house. They made their way inside, pistols out. Guppy disabled the alarm system and then unlocked the door. Inside, the house was well-made, with thick stone walls and new wooden floorboards. All of the rooms combined to create the image of someone who was intensely house-proud, but at the same time loved old worn and used furniture. There were numerous antiques about, many of a simple, pine design. All of the floors were carpeted, and all the rooms were based around a central chimney which had fires in each of the three main ground floor rooms. The entire house was curved. All the interior walls, windows, and furniture were formed without angles. It gave the normally rustic house a retro space-age look. The filling material was not part of the house proper, a sort of filler foam that clashed with the otherwise attractive home. Archive looked around. “This is…this is very strange.” “Spread out,” said Hammer. “Jim-Bean, Archive, see what you can find. Guppy, you’re with me.” Jim-Bean called into the comm. link from downstairs. “Just a bunch of PlayPals networked together in the basement.” “Playpals,” said Hammer. “The same kind Tucker was trying to find at WeeBee Toys.” “The Navi chip,” said Guppy. “The same kind of chip that ran the Dreamweb. The Crystal Matrix AI created by the Greys…” “Destroy them,” said Hammer. “Already did,” reported Jim-Bean. “Going upstairs next.” Hammer stopped short at Morrow’s study. The study was a mess, in contrast to the rest of the house, with files scattered all around the twin desks, coffee spilled across reams of computer paper, and a chair pushed over onto its side. “Someone’s been in his study,” said Hammer. “It looks as if someone was either searching for something or was surprised and subdued after a brief struggle.” The main desk was dominated by a PlayPal 611. The vast majority of books in the book cases were scientific journals, computer manuals, with the occasional out of date local paper or copy of MUFON. On the desks themselves are much the same thing, as well as a large number of fact files on CCS products such as all their new hardware lists, peripherals, and the like. “Jackpot,” said Hammer. There was a stamped package addressed to Morrow, posted four days before the night of the storm. Hammer tore it open. It contained a DVD and a note. Hammer read it to the team. “Looks like a warning from Wang-Li Gi, Morrow’s coworker, talking about a conversation with some sort of alien intelligence.” “Warning about what?” asked Guppy. “An experiment that CCS was conducting without Morrow’s knowledge: PROJECT RELISH.” Guppy pulled out a portable DVD reader and plugged it into his cistron. Then he pushed the disc into the player and hit play. There was a crackle and hiss of a tape as it started, then dropped into the sounds of people moving about a room. In the distance, a humming could be heard, along with several muffled voices talking in whispers. “The system is on-line and running, doctor,” said a woman with a French accent. “We should have fully tapped the subjects in less than thirty seconds.” An old man’s soft voice responded, “How are they holding up?” “I think that’s Lisa Patterson.” Guppy scanned the note. “The man is James Morton.” “At present, just as expected,” said Patterson. “Heartbeat down, along with blood pressure, and reduced brain activity, just as in the previous trials. The tapping method seems to create a form of tiredness that can’t be explained by the presence of fatigue poisons. It…wait. The PlayPal is up and ready. At your command, doctor.” “On my count?” asked Morton. “What will see this time, eh? ‘The glory of Him who moves all things soe’er impenetrates the universe, and bright the splendor burns, more here and lesser there. Within that heav’n which most receives his light was I, and saw such thing as man nor knows, nor skills to tell, returning from that height.’” “I’m sorry, sir?” asked Patterson. “I didn’t catch the reference.” “Never mind Lisa,” said Morton. “Just do it now.” “Yep, that’s Lisa Patterson,” confirmed Guppy. There was a series of rapid clicks and an increasing hum, like enraged mechanical bees, until suddenly a vast roar broke the cacophony, along with the creak and groan of metal under stress. From far off, someone gasped, and a dreadful hissing was audible, broken by the noise of something lashing back and forth. After a moment of this, a mechanical voice spoke. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]WHO ARE YOU THAT YOU SHOULD DARE TO SUMMON ONE SUCH AS US THROUGH THE ANGLES?[/FONT]” “Forgive me, Lord, if I have caused affront, but I had wished to speak to you as seeker to boon granter,” said Morton. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]BOON GRANTER?[/FONT]” said the mechanical voice. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]YOUR SPEECH IS AS MUCH AN AFFRONT TO US AS YOUR THREE-SHAPED FORMS. WE SHALL TEAR AND REND WHAT REMAINS…VIRGINAL WITHIN YOU, LITTLE SHADOW.[/FONT]” “God, that face, it’s like –“ began Patterson. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]GOD?[/FONT]” asked the voice. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]YOU SPEAK OF OUR MASTER? OR DO YOU TALK OF WHAT YOU GROUNDLINGS HAVE MADE IN YOUR TEMPLES AND OFFERED PRAYERS TO? THE CREATOR WAS MADE IN YOUR IMAGE?! SUCH ARROGANCE! TO THINK YOU TIME-BOUND CREATURES ARE THE SUM OF ALL! YOU ARE NOT. YOU ARE THE SCUM ON THE SURFACE OF THE DARKNESS, THE[/FONT] (pause) [FONT="Fixedsys"]FUNGI WHICH NEEDS TO BE SCRAPED CLEAN BEFORE THE POOL IS CLEAN AGAIN.[/FONT]” “So you have a master?” asked Morton. “One who lies at the heart of the angles?” “[FONT="Fixedsys"]OUR MASTER IS NOT FOR ONE SUCH AS YOU TO HEAR OF. NOW RELEASE ME![/FONT]” The sound of metal being stressed increased and more roaring was audible. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]HOW CAN YOU CONTAIN US? HOW DARE YOU? NONE OF YOUR SORCERERS HAVE DONE SO![/FONT]” “Man must not rashly scorn science, eh?” asked Morton, bemused. “Simply choose and read with care to find true power, which lies in the grapes surrounded by thorns. Well, I have plucked the grapes, and they lie within my hand, as do you. Now, we do not bind one such as you without a gift. They lie there, enthralled at your presence. Their…virginal limbs, as you put it, are yours, in return for answers.” There was a strange noise, like mechanical laughter. “[FONT="Fixedsys"]THEN OFFER THEM TO USE AND WE SHALL SPEAK FURTHER, OF TIN’DALSOS, YOUR LIVES, AND OTHER BLOODY THINGS.[/FONT]” The tape ended. “Whoever Wang-Li was,” Guppy held up an employee data sheet. “He’s dead now.” The data sheet contained a complete listing of all twenty-three CCS employees, from the janitor to James Morton. Three names, Wang-Li Gi, Edwin Walker, and Alexander Holcroft were scored out, with the words DECEASED written by them. Eight of the names were starred with an asterisk stating, “Access to military room granted. Why?” It was accompanied by a set of security passes all stamped with a digitized picture of Walter and all bearing the CCS logo. “We found Morrow,” said Jim-Bean. “You’d better take a look at this.” [/QUOTE]
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