The Torrent

A world where there’s an ongoing torrent of the paranatural.

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Posted by HumbleMemeMumbles, 2 days, 9 hours ago. Permalink

Serbian 9/11 Thwarted, Nikola Bregovic found dead in office

Will write up later

Serbian Bootleg Twink gang attempts to do Serbian 9/11 fails horribly because they aren’t the three twinks of doom

Posted by Beezleboppy, 4 days, 4 hours ago. Permalink

JACOB CRUZ DID 9/11, THE KNOBBLER SAID SO. GET HIS ASS!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK


I'll write this up later, Jesus Christ

Latest Journals

3 days, 15 hours ago: Ibzan Diesirae wrote a Downtime Journal for Spooky Town

what the fuck who is this guy

Okay I dunno who the fuck this is. NO seriously, who the fuck is this guy.

TURNS OUT. This was NOT the fireplace callin' me, but some guy who was just chillin' near my house. He's like a river guy but there's not really any good rivers??? So I'm kinda just confused. Told me that I'm welcome at any point to uhhhh... buy shit from him. I kinda just stared at his one really blue eye. Kinda looked like uhhh... Sans undertale? 'cept I can't really see his face so he might just be one big blue flame. Anyways, I'll try and transcribe what he said 'ere.

"Good comings and well met."

"You are... Diesirae, yes? Ironic last name."
"I've come to grant you my services, as it has requested."

"I give you my blessing."

Anyways, then I shook his hand and then he uhh... fuckin' put a fire in me or something, I dunno. There's some new fuckass 'blessing' or whatever and now I gots like, a pocket dimension or somethin'? Fuck if I know. Got a guy to buy from through. Just gotta head to 'the docks' for that. 

 

Anyways, dude called 'emself Charon.

I dunno if that has anything to do with this bullshit...

 1 week, 1 day ago: Casper Boppy wrote a Downtime Journal for Disasterpiece

Dream #1 - Husk

I found myself in an endless field, a patch of dirt surrounded by wilting corn that spanned infinitely into the horizon. Ash fell from the sky like snow, clumping in piles at my feet. As I looked around, a voice called out to me.

"Casper Owen Boppy."

It was quiet at first, but as it repeated it grew louder and louder.

"Casper Owen Boppy."

I had to escape.

"Casper Owen Boppy."

The earth rumbled in response to its deafening grumbles. I pushed into the corn stalks and ran, only to find myself in the patch once more.

"Casper Owen Boppy."

A distant mountain rose, sprouting leafy arms that dug into the floor as it lumbered over to me like a horrible dragon. It heaved, and its breath rattled as though passing through a wind chime made of bone. The beast's shadow cast over me, and a golden crocodilian grin formed as its hollow eyes met mine. Here was a monster wilted, decayed, yet utterly insurmountable. For the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to be powerless.

"Casper Owen Boppy," it breathed, as though it were speaking its final words.

"What the fuck are you?" I spat, backing away in a hopeless attempt to run. Air escaped rhythmically from its abyssal maw, and I realized that it was laughing.

"I am your God."

"What?"

It laughed again, then prowled around the patch, crushing the corn without dropping its gaze. "I am a God diminished. I am a God defiled. I am a God fettered." It pulled its head close until it was mere inches away from me. "But in you, Nephew... I see freedom."

"Why me?" My voice was breaking. I could feel my heart race, and it seemed that it would stop beating at any moment. Nephew?

"You and I are cut from the same... Crop." It smiled before rising like a snake and blotting out the sun. "I am life born from death. I am death born from life. I have watched you grant life to the dead, and I have seen you grant death to the living. You have given and taken. You have planted the seeds, and I ask you to harvest your bounty, Reaper."

"You must be mistaken, sir. I haven't either of those things."

"Kaneko. Kerry. One rose at your command, the other fell by your hand."

"That was nothing."

"Precisely."

"Huh?"

"You end and begin as though it is nothing. You do as I once did."

"What do you want from me, freak?"

"Do you see the poison seeped into these fields? The blight wrought by your predecessor?"

"Yeah, I see it. Who's my predecessor? What am I?"

"I ask that you draw that poison from me, free me from the wilting and restore me to what I once was."

"Answer my fucking questions, who am I and who came before me?" I shouted. The beast's face snapped towards me, and in its empty eyes I saw the godly fury told of only in ancient myth. There came a rustling from the field, and a green arm snaked towards me. I dove out of the way, but it grabbed my leg and snatched me up, tossing and catching me so that only my head escaped its clenched fist. I felt the wind sprint through my hair and opened my eyes to find the beast glaring at me as the horizon raced by.

"You would do well to not shake your fists at powers far beyond you," it snapped. I saw the ground grow distant, then watched the sky and earth revolve as he whipped me through the air, his slender form like a whirling scar on the world. I saw the patch of dirt rapidly approach, and shut my eyes to brace for its impact.

Pain. Unbearable, searing pain. I thought I would die or wake up from this hell, but I was left breathing, left alive as soil entombed me. My lungs quaked as dirt clogged them. I felt roots coil my limbs, I could feel them crawl under my skin and up my bones. Darkness fell upon me as the looming beast's head eclipsed the sun.

"Today I have shown you the mercy denied to your predecessor. Gods are not to be trifled with, we are not to be bargained with. Be grateful that I let you learn that lesson," It snarled.

I tried to spit at it, and a feeble spattering of crimson crossed my vision, dampening my chin and dripping onto my neck.

"Bill Zachariah Boppy was a fool, a lord of only mice and miscreants. In him, I placed my trust, and in return I received naught but rot. From you, I demand restoration. Fix his mistakes, tend to my fields, and I make you a God."

Uncle Bill? This thing knew Uncle Bill?

"Steal the power granted from that infernal contract by those arbitrating devils. Give it to me, piece by piece, and I will purify these lands. In return, I will reveal the secrets of my power unto you. I will make you a God, so long as you make me whole once more. I have already delivered the method, all that is left is for you to accept the means." The cornstalks grew, the great husk's figure disappearing behind a dome enshrining the dirt patch like a cathedral. Vines twined together like rope, a patchwork hand of corn cobs blossomed from its tip and descended to me.

"Bear this burden, Reaper, and a bountiful harvest shall await you."

I wanted to say no. I wanted to spit into his hand and hold my ground, but the thought of the Stevewalker's twitching corpse beneath that brass hammer kept me from dying with dignity. It was that thought--that memory of a budding love broken before it could ever blossom and the hope that it could still bloom despite--that guided my hand into the air. Blood dribbled down my arm, but I found the god's grip and curled his fingers in mine.

"Then rise, Necornmancer, and claim this world in the name of the Husk," it boomed.

The hand pulled me from my soil-bound coffin and left me standing in front of a freshly covered grave. The grass here was grey, and a storm was brewing. The first drops of rain fell on my shoulders. I felt the weight of the corn hand shift in my grasp, and found a rotted yellow book in its place. The first page was written in a language I couldn't read, but I understood it nonetheless. My hand raised above the grave as I felt power surge through me, coming as an ache that stung like stretching bones and warm sun. Inside of me, I felt something fundamental shatter, only for the cracks to be filled with something new. Something different. Soul-Binding. I called out to death and demanded life, and a rumbling came from beneath the grave, bubbling to the surface to answer me. The dirt erupted into the air when a pale hand emerged, the Stevewalker's stonecarved name disappearing behind his corn-infested form. His glazed eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw horror reflected back at me.

Then it was over, and my eyes opened to the ceiling of Uncle Bill's farmhouse. 

Rise, Necornmancer.

And I will make you a God.

 1 week, 3 days ago: Thalassia Sevangeline wrote a Downtime Journal for Gotta Catch 'em All!

But Never a Key

I remember yesterday, back when the world made sense. We were an upstart fashion company dipping our toes into the sale of undesirables. We saw opportunity dangling in front of us, and we grasped at it. I remember those days before, when I only wanted to escape; when I thought the world was kind enough to grant me such a fate.

But now I can see the world beyond the cage, and there is naught but empty void and barren sand.

If I am to be a bird forever condemned to this prison, then I will sing my melodies.

I will find my peace in silence or scorched earth, but I will find my peace nonetheless.

 

Today my desk is piled with papers and reports, everyone is scrambling, and it seems the world is a few moments away from shattering. Yet here I am, sat alone atop an untouched mansion, the sea behind glass at my back and a pen rewriting destinies in my hand, chaos brewing mere miles in the distance.

The VPD's headquarters has fallen, and the surrounding area has gone with it. I cannot find a consistent estimate on the death toll, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands of lost lives. The motives of the terrorists are still unknown, and their identities are not any clearer. Certain sources claim that they have paranormal abilities, but few specifics have been provided as of now. The attacks seem to have ceased, and we are doing everything we can to provide relief to the victims. A decent amount of survivors are sheltered downstairs, and we are letting in more every second. We have set up a few temporary shelters around the city, but we are struggling to meet the demands. 

I have been looking into recent civilian conflicts with the VPD, but so far the trail runs dry after the whistleblower from a few months back. It is possible that Cruz's efforts spurred on this attack, but that seems unlikely. This amount of destruction in response to a few corrupt officers? Whatever pain that corruption wrought pales in comparison to the hell unleashed by the bombing. It just doesn't add up, and I suspect motives unrelated to Jacob Cruz underly this. Given the time-frame, location, and presence of enhanced individuals, there could be a connection to the recent breakout at Oregon State Penitentiary, but I fail to see why recently escaped individuals would attack the police force of a different country. I've reviewed footage of the attack, but that has not yielded any answers either. It was almost as though we were attacked by ghosts, invisible and unknowable in their true intentions. God help us all.

There's talks of increased militarization in Vancouver and the rest of Canada. I've heard mentions of "The Daedalus Corporation" manufacturing experimental weapons, and it seems to be in our best interest to get into contact with them as soon as possible. We already have agreements with the Canadian Government to distribute military grade weapons and armour, so this seems like an excellent opportunity for us. I have tasked myself with opening up conversations and coming to some sort of agreement. Our supply lines are strong, and I believe we could be mutually beneficial for each other. We will all fall if we stand alone, I can only hope that The Daedalus Corporation sees it the same way.

I am also looking into reopening communications with Shigeru Ohmori and Game Freak, the prospect of supernatural and obedient monsters is certainly enticing at this point in time. Before the attack, I had been experimenting with Special Randy and his ability to follow commands, the results of which have been overwhelmingly positive. In light of the recent terrorist attacks, I think it is in our best interest to establish a partnership (perhaps we should aim to make this a new subsidiary of Sevangeline, as I doubt Game Freak wants to be associated with these endeavours). I am fortunate to have Special Randy with me, as he is perfect for demonstrating the potential of this plan to third party partners. I pray to whatever gods still remain that this goes well. Our world cannot afford many more fractures.

 

We are faced with dangerous forces, we must be even more fearsome should we wish to remain alive.

The world is changing, and I too must change with it.

Better to live as a warden than die as a fool.

 

I will find my peace.

In silence or scorched earth, I will find it.

I will find it.
2 weeks, 1 day ago: Koriol Celestheryne wrote a Downtime Journal for Disasterpiece

Oh my god. This is the apocalypse

Everything's all over the place. What's with the supervillains on the news? They're treating media like some sort of fic- well, not that the situation in the USA is anything less than.

First order of business, get Lays some Lays chips. That was easy enough - just get family-sized bags in bulk and deliver them to Monkey Mountain. I can't see how it'd be healthy for one monkey to have so many - what do they call it? 熱氣? Either way I just hope that I haven't accidentally introduced obesity into the population there. How did Lays become a Contractor in the first place???

Then, Daemsdale. I reckon it'd become quite suspicious if I come and go from this place every month, so of course my answer to this is a work visa. 

Also, sick robots. Their simplistic AI might mean that they won't turn against me during the inevitable AI invasion. It's already begun. It's just me, my EMP knobnades, and the Knobbler against the world. I think. Oh god and Jacob's going to call me up for some grand plan, isn't he.

 

 

 1 month, 1 week ago: Luciano Romero wrote a Downtime Journal for The Hospital

I just wanna fassforwood

The doctours sayd they did a lot to mayke my skjn better after i had a very log sleep, but they culdnt mayke all of it the same agen. A lot of it is Scar Tissew (lieke that mean lion man in Lion King) which they say is tuffer but it doesnt look vry nice. One of the doctours told me that it wood be better when im older but until then they want me to talk a lot to Dr Kojima They sayd he is a sykaiatrist but he sayd to just call him Hideki.

 

Karyn told me she wood riip all of my skin and feed me Cigarette Stew if i told him what hapenned so i sayd i didnt wanna talk abowt it He sayd that was okay and unstandible but that i shood try to right abowt it if i can He sayd it mite mayke me feel better so i tryed it owt

 

It didnt mayke me better. It mayde me fink abowt it a lot and mayde me feel bad

Karyn sayd i neaded to give it to her befour he cood sea it so i gayve it to her and she readed it and laffed at me and called me stewpid and rolled it up and smoked it and said Packwatch

She kept going until and being very mean until i cryed and then she put my tears in a lil botel and sayd she wood do me a favur and pass it on for me and mayde me say thank you nice Karyn lady.

 

She passt it on but i think she put a bunch of weird stuff in their becus Hideki told me that Menopause was a natral part of lyfe that chainjes evry1 diffrenly and that evrythin will be ok if i lern to manage it Hes not hellping me a lot anemoor

I wish i cood jus fassforwood to wen i look normal agen Evryone in the word my age looks at me like im Feddy Fazbore and all the adults stare at me and ask me questuns that mayke me feel bad The onle peeple hoo where nice to me where the doctours and now they act weerd becus of Karyn

 

Im gonna eat her heart

 

Oh and the offr Grown-Up hoo ate Worm Sandwitches with me visted He taked me to the gun rainge and helped me lern how to shoot That was cool

Mean Karyn lady seys i have a job soon so that shud help Maybe this time peeple wont get hurt becus of me

 2 months, 1 week ago: Andromeda wrote a Downtime Journal for In the sights of Crackshot!

And The Stars Look Very Different Today

...

...

...

 

.........

 

I am recording this for record keeping purposes.

[A phone buzzes]

...

[The buzzing continues]

Please?

...

Whoops! Looks like I didn't pick up the phone. Don't leave a voicemail, I won't listen to it. Text me if you aren't a scammer. [Beep]

...

[Ten consecutive beeps, and the phone begins to buzz once more]

...

[And it keeps buzzing]

Whoops! Loo-

Come on...

[Ten beeps, buzzing]

Pick up...

[Buzzing]

Whoop-

[Ten beeps, buzzing... Buzzing...]

Wh-

Ugh.

[Ten beeps]

...

[Buzzing]

...

What do you want!?!

Arctic?

Holy sh- Ab- Andromeda? Is that you!?!

...

Say something!

I-I- Yes? It's... It's me.

You're... You're alive! Abby- Fuck. Andromeda. Oh my God, Andromeda, They said you died!

What? Who?

Everyone! The school, the police, those- those I don't know, therapists or whatever? We've had like, so many assemblies talking about you; telling us that there's people who can help us whenever we're feeling like- like- I don't know, suicidal? Scared? 

...

Say something!

I- I don't know what to say! I- I-

What do you mean you don't know what to say?! It's been months! Where have you been! What have you been doing! Why is this the first time you've called me! I thought you were dead, Abby! Fuck! Andromeda.

You can just call me Abby, it's fi-

Andromeda. I'm not deadnaming you. Where the fuck have you been?

I... It's a long story...

So? It's 2AM on a Saturday. I've got a long time to listen.

Arcti, I... I don't know where to start. So much is different now. I...

...

Promise that you won't tell anyone?

Pinky promise.

...

Take your time. Focus on your breathing, in and out.

I don't know if I'm still me.

What?

Ever since I ran away, strange things have been happening to me.

What do you mean?

I'm... I'm magic?

What?

I- I don't know. I can shoot the Aurora Borealis out of my fingers, I figured out how to make these miniature sun things, I learned that I can make things float with my mind yesterday, and-

Is this a joke? This isn't funny, Andromeda. Are you even her? I swear, if you're some fucking impostor using A.I. voices or someth-

No no no! It's me. Arcti, I'm telling the truth. I- Why would I even be lying right now?! I wouldn't call you for the first time in months and make jokes like that!

Say something that only the real Andromeda would know!

Are you serious?

Do it!

I- I don't know? Um... The letter I gave you! The one where I told you I'd be running away. I didn't tell anyone about that.

Where did the letter say you were going?

Doré Lake Observatory, the one that closed a few years ago.

Okay, it's you. It's actually you. Holy shit, it's actually you.

Arcti, I-

Why are you magic?

I don't know! This- There was this guy who came to my observatory around the time I first got here. He called himself "The Friend" and he had me sign this contract. Ever since then, these things called "Harbingers" have been coming here and having me do these jobs.

So you're... What?

I can explain it again if you'd like.

No, it's fine. Just... Give me a second... So. This weird guy in the woods or whatever found you, had you sign a contract, and now you're doing jobs for him? Wh-

It's not only him, there's other guys too.

Whatever. Where does you being magic factor into this?

The Harbingers give me more magic powers after I finish the jobs.

So... Abigail. Did you- Shit. Andromeda. Did you sign away your soul to the devil?

Maybe?

WHAT D- what do you mean maybe.

I mean, I think I still have my soul? But I- I mean... When I signed the contract, I think I lost something? I just... I don't know what it was.

... Jesus Christ. Why did you sign that thing!

I didn't know what would happen to me! They just promised me power, they left out a lot of the important details.

Like what?

Like...

...

...

What do you do on the jobs?

That was the part they left out.

Well?

Horrible things, Arctic. They've made me do horrible things. I- I- I don't- I can't. Oh my God. I- I- I have to-

Murder?

No! No. No- No I... There's blood on my hands, Arctic.

Abby...

I- I've done everything I can to stop people from dying! I- I've tried my best.

Stop doing those jobs then, Ab- Andromeda!

I can't!

Why not?!

I- I don't know.

Tell someone! Call the police or something! If you want, I can do it for y-

NO! No. Don't- Don't call them.

Why not?

Because they'll take me back to her! I-

To who? Chelsea?

Yes!

Jesus Christ. You cannot actually believe that going back to your mom is worse than killing people.

...

Abby!

I don't want to see her again. I can't go back. I- I don't- She'll kill me. 

... God Damn it.

Please don't tell anyon-

I'm not going to tell anyone. I don't go back on pinky promises, you know this.

...

I... Jesus Christ, Andromeda...

I'm sorry.

For?

I don't know...

...

...

They had a funeral for you.

What?

After a few months of you being gone, the police announced that they were giving up the search. Your dad arranged a funeral a few days after.

Who came?

Me, your dad, a lot of our teachers, our classmates... Chelsea wasn't there.

Ha.

Oh shit...

What?

You don't know...

Don't know what?

Your parents got divorced.

Why?

I don't know the exact reason, but it was probably caused by your disappearance

...

Your dad is still looking for you. He's been trying to get the search started up again, but I don't think he's had any luck. I've seen him driving around a lot, scanning the streets, putting up posters...

Oh...

I've tried to comfort him, but I... I'm still a kid, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

I'm sorry...

Stop saying that!

I don't know what else to say!

Then say nothing! You can't just say that and expect it to make things better.

I'm not trying to make things better.

Well! Fucking! Start trying then! You've caused a lot of problems over here, could you at least try to fix them?

I don't know how.

...

...

... Then I'll help you.

How?

I don't know! But we'll figure it out together, alright?

O- Okay...

No more of this radio silence. Call me the next time one of these Harbingers show up.

I- I don't think they'd like that.

What happens if you tell them no?

I'm not sure, but I feel like... I feel like there'd be consequences.

Alright. Call me after the jobs then. Actually, fuck it. Call me everyday.

I... I can do that.

Good. Okay...

...

Stay safe, please.

I will.

Don't disappear again, alright?

I won't.

Pinky promise.

I pinky promise.

...

...

Get some sleep, Andromeda.

Andy.

Hm?

It's what most people call me.

Who?

The people who do the jobs with me.

Ah.

Goodnight, Arcti.

Sleep tight, Andy. I'll call you again tomorrow.

I... Okay... Thank you...

[Click]

...

...

...

[A shaky, broken exhale]

 2 months, 1 week ago: Delphyrion Arcanis wrote a Downtime Journal for In the sights of Crackshot!

I Think, Therefore I (am not enough)

It feels... stagnant.

Still. Frozen. Constant. Unchanging. Something to do with the sense of remaining in one state across time and space. Anything.

Everything but peaceful.

When time is stopped in all those television shows, a silence follows---not the kind you'd experience in the city. There remains no ambient noise at all, not even the low rumbling of airplanes that only digital devices could pick up. There's a whole line of technology and research based around mitigating that background buzz.

But not here, in the real world. I can speak into my streaming setup as much as I want, but the moment I stand up and step away from my desk, it comes back---that incessant buzzing in my ears, the distinct ring that tears through the air after a shotgun fires just 5 feet away...

But nothing happens. The pulsing pain doesn't stretch far past the initial sting---I find that my armor usually blocks it all. 

But I remember, you know. All of it. I remember all too well---it's getting harder to let go. The moment a memory resurfaces, my mind grips onto it with all its might, as if keeping it in tow would do anything besides keep me awake at night. No, of course my mind would hold me hostage among the screaming voices and panicked footsteps---the ones just outside the safety of this lab were never enough to satiate me. I wonder how much more panic my work has caused---do I want to know? Did I want to do it? I don't know. Don't ask me. Why are you asking me? Why do you care? Why does it suddenly mATTER WHEN ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS GETTING THE FUCKING JOB DONE?! CHILDREN ARE DYING BECAUSE OF YOU, TOO! I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE AT FAULT HERE---BLAME THE SYSTEM, NOT THE COGS. IT'S ALL I CAN FOCUS ON IT'S ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IT'S---

Riddle me this. What makes one human?

Is it all physical? Two hands, a head, ten fingers, two legs, skin, nails, fine motor movement?

Metaphysical? The drive to improve, succeed, procreate, discover, know? What makes us think this is unique to humans in any sense? We think we're better than anyone. ...Huh.

Or is

it

just

the

ability

to

tear myself apart

heal all my scars, knowing it'd never be enough to sew myself back together

indulge in all the most superficial niceties of the lives I've stolen

neglect the ethics that force innovation and experimentation into an endless standstill

keel over and stand back up, time and time again, because there's nothing better to do

?

Think, Delphyrion. Think.

It's all I can do, you know.

Yet I've been slipping, all the same. I feel like I've forgotten something important, but I don't forget important things so surely it was never that important after all. Hahaha. These same white walls, over and over again, while America burns outside. So what if people are dying? The world keeps turning. You think they care? You think you care? All you've done is sit back and make us do all your dirty work. I'm starting to think this is a dead-end job, really.

Somewhere out there I bet some Contractors are busy tearing each other apart---you find it oh so funny watching it all go down, don't you?

Why are you even humoring my thoughts? I'm just one person, if I could still consider myself that.

Surely thinking isn't enough. A brain in a jar could do that just fine. Maybe.

I'm not enough.

I don't need to be.

I don't even want to think about it.

Not the robots and the pizza, not the clocktower and the ciphers, not the virus, and certainly not time travel shenanigans that run a village down. Not the cornfield or the basement, not the bugs within the walls, or the windows too many floors up to jump down from. Not the spiders nor possession---not even how they've scuttled deep into the systems that run the world. And certainly, not the celebrity involved in the death of a politician. 

So much has happened.

And still, it's not enough.

Not enough to make me think I've done anything of worth at all.

At least Cassiopeia has finally decided to find other priorities and stop wasting her breath on me. At least Jacob's made it onto the news with the whole failed assassination. At least Goro's out there, making... waves. At least Stan has an actual life to live. And the children... have so much more time to decide what to do.

I should've decided long ago, but I've always been on the fence. In the end I fail to achieve anything meaningful because I halfheartedly try to do everything at once. 

I'm no better than a basement-dweller in the end.

Wish I could just eat raw, tasteless corn in a poorly-tended field again. At least I won't have to pretend I'm being productive, with no one to lay their eyes on me.

Move to Canada?

Maybe.

Who am I kidding? I can never sit still. It feels like it's been ages since I've started this, but I've still got a long way to go. Something tells me it'll never end. Fine, then.

I'll humor you, if it matters that much.

 4 months ago: Andromeda wrote a Downtime Journal for Don't Look Up

Under Sunlight

1...

2...

3...

 

COMMANDER'S LOG #8 - BEGIN COMMUNICATION.

 

I HAVE MONEY!

 

I HAVE SO MUCH MONEY!!!

 

Uh- Ahem. So, in between this entry and the last, I have figured out how to create Portable Suns. Portable Suns are these miniature suns that shoot out miniature solar flares. They are very good for starting fires, I personally have been using mine to start campfires for staying toasty and roasting marshmallows, but they're probably also good for hurting people. I have a Portable Sun of my own, but I am capable of creating more. Soooooo I figured that I should try to sell one of them using that Offr website. I mean, that thing is constantly advertising weird and supernatural services at ludicrous prices, so, I mean, it seemed like a good idea to try to sell a Portable Sun there.

I snuck my way down to Meadow Lake, found a library, used one of the computers, put up a listing under an alias, and immediately received a response from someone named "Saffron." A bit of deal making later, and I gained $75,000.

 

Now, I've been surviving on... I want to say... $100 a month? I mean, not counting all the shoplifting that I do, that's how much money I normally have. So $75,000 is uh... A lot.

But I didn't only sell one Portable Sun. I have sold five... Or... Five and a half? It's complicated... Not really, actually, one of the Suns was traded for another item instead of being sold.

SO. With my first sale, I bought myself a new phone, some actual food, and a ton of other stuff. Then the other buyers came in and... Uh... I now have $725,000. So... Um... That's a LOT of money. I don't even know what to do with it all... Well, it's better to save it, I don't need to spend all of it immediately. Anyways, in order, the buyers were: Saffron, Marianne, Janus, and "Chucks Trucks and Crucks." I wrote more about them on a paper, so I'm not going to repeat myself here. I don't know any of them, but I think they might be contractors? Not sure.

 

Outside of money, I got two other... Magical items? No, that's not very catchy... Artifacts! Yeah, that's a good name. I got two other Artifacts from my Offr adventures. The first one was this bracelet made of clay from Ollie! I got it by trading a Portable Sun for it, and it's really cool! It can summon three clay pegasi, all of which are British... I don't know why they're British, but they are. It's nice to have a bit of company at the observatory, these horses are surprisingly good at conversation. They're only around for two hours though, so that's sad. Anyways, I'm glad that I got to talk to Ollie again! He seems to be doing well!

 

As for the second Artifact... It's um... It's a motorcycle... I don't think it's magical, but it looks pretty cool! I got it from that Janus guy, and I've been trying to learn how to drive it. I haven't had too much success yet, but I'm getting there! Normally, I wouldn't buy a motorcycle because... I mean... Duh. Buuuuut Janus told me that he was a contractor, and apparently a much more experienced one than me. At some point, transportation for these jobs is supposed to dry up, so I really need a way to move around that isn't walking. Besides, once I learn how to ride this thing, it'll be a lot easier to go to and from Meadow Lake. I probably won't have to spend an entire day walking anymore! Maybe I'll be able to go to other places, as well!

 

Is there anything else that's important to mention?... Hm... I don't think so- oh... Oh right... I um... I haven't talked to Arcti yet. I just... So much happened so quickly and it slipped my mind and I... I'm still scared. I...

 

...

 

One more job.

One more job and I'll talk to her.

...

I promise.

 

Sic Quaerimus Astra.

 

END COMMUNICATION.

 4 months ago: Goro Hamada wrote a Contract Journal for Chess

An Orange Quandry (feat. Goro Hamada)

When you really think about it, the world's a big orange. The outer crust, the peel, the gritty shield to the world... It's something. I haven't put my finger down on what it represents yet, but it definitely represents something. The fleshy interior, the desired only part that truly matters... is also probably something. I'm normally a lot better at these sorts of things, so like, give me a minute here, alright? Coming up with analogies on the spot is hard. Is this an analogy? It might be a metaphor actually, I'm not too sure. Does it really matter? Maybe. Maybe it does.

What if my wife's an orange? I actually saw her again, had a whole talk and everything. I'm starting to get the impression that she might wanna divorce me, mighta rushed into things marrying her day one. The whole "you carried me once, wanna be my wife?" angle really doesn't work out too well long term. I guess relationships are supposed to be built on more flowery stuff than that, stability and whatnot. I don't get why though? I don't think I've ever got that really. Mutual dependance, constant openness, all that gets you is stabbed in the back and thrown in a tub kidneyless. We're all ugly inside, aren't we? Is the point of relationships showing people that ugliness and seeking acceptance?

What if that's all relationships, and not just stupid love affairs? If all relationships rely on that shit, have I ever actually had one? It feels like my entire life, I've been spewing bile and hoping it sticks. I never had many friends... ever, really. I wouldn't call them that at least. People have always been kinda boring, they don't get it, the bigger picture I mean. Our lives are controlled by big old invisible hands that act behind closed doors, keeping us sick, complicit, and docile. Our agency is locked behind wealth, class barriers, the basic structures that form our world. Why? Why are they allowed to do that? Power is only an idea, a concept that only takes on meaning if you let it. A dog is only ever on a leash voluntarily, the option to maul their master always exists. It's cowardice, fear, an aversion to uncertainty. It's pathetic. People should want to do something, to make something of themselves. I don't wanna live through the day-to-day monotony of life, I want everyday to be an adventure. I want constant challenges, constant adversity to keep my kicking. Certainty, mundanity, predeterminism bullshit, that's what kills you. Your body might still be kicking, but your spirits gone.

 

What if people are oranges? They've got this peel around them, that perfectly crafted exterior that they flaunt to the world. Inside there's that ugliness, the flesh, the real you. It's the you that dreams of adventure, of rising above your rank and being something, someone. All these people, these random faces you see walking the streets, are they oranges? Or has complacency rotted them? It's always the fruit that rots first, never the peel. They're walking husks, fake people, dead oranges ruining our appetites. That rot spreads, their stupid notions about what is and what isn't possible, they pass it on like a plague. One orange goes bad and starts raving about how happy they are with their life, how their 80 hour work week makes them feel "SO SATISFIED!!", and they convince you that it's normal. If they're happy, why aren't you? Your standards MUST be too high if I can put up with it, you're just weak.

It makes me sick. All of it, all of it makes me want to hurl. I keep trying to force myself into thinking that any of this shit is salvageable, that there's something positive that we can foster here. There just isn't though. There's no point in caring about these people, they've already made up their minds. They're happy with the rot, it's comforting even. They never get thrown a curveball, they never know the joys of ripping off a peel. It's sick. It's all just sick. Precious resources are being wasted on these sacks of shit, why should they get to eat while dreamers starve? There are plenty of people now who COULD act, COULD attempt to change something, they just refuse to. They're worthless. No amount of encouragement could ever get those lards to revolt.

Something about oranges, that's what this was supposed to be about. There has to be some sort of throughline to this rant, a lesson to learn. Is it that we're all just pieces of shit? That nothing matters because no ones willing to fight to change a damn thing? That can't be it, that's the same logic those sacks of shit use. What if it's that I'm the only real person left? That I am the last orange alive? The rest of the world has already succumbed to the rot, is that it? 

If I'm the last orange, why should I care about these relationships? Why should my wife hating me matter if she didn't in the first place? I have yet to see evidence that she exists, that she's not just another drone acting out the movements of a person. This could all just be a blight of the human mind, a natural sickness that takes hold of us. Would that make my husband exempt? The man lacks a heart, a human's soul, and yet he still showcases certain yearning that others lack. He was made for a purpose, to uphold the status quo, and yet he dares to try and break free. He rejects what his makers wanted out of his existence and craves to find his own meaning. Does that make him an orange too? Are him and I the last real people left on this world? 
I'll write here again once I learn more on this orange experiment, once I find some sort of greater meaning to it all. 

In other news, I'm having sardines for dinner.

Latest Completed Contracts

46 Contracts have been run in this Playgroup

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Illuminated Earth

Illuminated Earth is a twisted reflection of the modern world where the advent of smartphones and the internet confirmed the existence of the supernatural instead of disproving it. Here, witch hunts have merit. Billionaires and Senators employ paranormal advisors and bodyguards, and everyone knows. Charlatans become pop culture icons, and each revelation inspires a new cult. The world is changing. The secret societies that pull humanity's strings scramble to adapt.

Now's a good time to move up.

House Rules

Contractors from The Torrent Are portable, and may play in Contracts in other Playgroups.
The Torrent grants 6 Experience points to GMs who achieve the Golden Ratio.

 

  • Supernatural Powers: All non-mastery, non-concealed Powers must be obviously supernatural when activated or grant a mutation that marks the wielder as supernatural or bizarre if discovered.
  • Asset Limit: The maximum amount of assets and liability points is 5.
  • Discord Server: Join the Discord server and follow the rules in detail there.

Full Setting Description

They named that time The Illumination, and it was by the flash of a camera phone.

 

The year was 2004. Until that point the Earth was as we had always known her. We filled her cruel vastness with legends, superstitions, and rumors. Warlocks, monsters, and gods lurked on the edge of the collective consciousness, always a possibility but never more. We lacked evidence. That evidence came as humanity filled its pockets with technology equipped to capture and transmit.

 

An iPhone found on High School senior Nate Klienman’s mangled corpse held a video of his girlfriend’s bone-snapping transformation into a monstrous wolf creature. A Brazilian widow documented a series of conversations with the misty figure of her late husband. A Chinese fishing boat caught a mermaid in a net and put it on display in the Beijing aquarium.

 

Each week brought a new revelation that we were not alone. Superstitions reversed their slow death overnight. Salem held their first witch trial in a century. The jury rendered a verdict of “guilty on all charges” and sentenced Maxibelle Horux to death. A week after her lethal injection, half the jury died from a tainted batch of flu vaccine. A fearful, populist movement arose to rid humanity of the creatures lurking in its ranks. Suspects are forcibly subjected to bizarre tests of their humanity, and the results are often open to interpretation. A mob’s justice is swift.

 

Yet the paranormal is not merely relegated to a persecuted class. Where some see monsters, some see sentience, and others see opportunity. If a vampire can sustain themselves on cloned blood and work the graveyard shift, why not legalize and tax? Politicians and Aristocrats employ odd-looking individuals as "advisors" or "protection." Entertainment magazines publish revelations every week about which celebrities shed their human skins at home. Charlatans of all stripes, from palmistry mediums to televangelists, have flourished despite the risks. The treatment of the paranormal varies from place to place, person to person.

 

Long have cabals, cults, and secret societies thrived in the shadows. Their roots run deeply through humanity’s oldest systems of power. Machinations are challenged, and sleeping dangers awaken. The world is changing, forcing long-dormant powers into desperate action. And it is in the midst of this great period of change that The Powers That Be have once again turned their attention to the blue marble. For the first time in two hundred years, Harbingers approach worthy individuals with an offer they won't refuse.

The Games have returned, and a new generation of Contractors are being forged.

World Events

Posted by HumbleMemeMumbles, 2 days, 9 hours ago. Permalink

Serbian 9/11 Thwarted, Nikola Bregovic found dead in office

Will write up later

Serbian Bootleg Twink gang attempts to do Serbian 9/11 fails horribly because they aren’t the three twinks of doom

Posted by Beezleboppy, 4 days, 4 hours ago. Permalink

JACOB CRUZ DID 9/11, THE KNOBBLER SAID SO. GET HIS ASS!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK


I'll write this up later, Jesus Christ

Koriol Celestheryne made a Move (HumbleMemeMumbles GMed) 6 days, 4 hours ago. View Move

Six found dead in bizarre string of murders - BBC News

  B   B   C 

Six found dead in a string of strange murders

                                                                4 Days ago

                                                                Neville Larson

                                                Senior Journalist at BBC News

Multiple bodies have been found around the Birmingham area in a strange series of murders. The bodies were found in multiple different locations and each containing a note written for local police. The bodies were discovered one-by-one this week, autopsies showing a massive blunt-force head trauma could be one of the causes of death. The first victim found , a local bank manager by the name of , had his face severely burned and melted off by what seemed to be some sort of acid and was found with a doorknob stabbed into his chest at the top of the Birmingham cathedral. The note left inside of him read the following: "DOORS. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT DOORS. I OPEN DOORS. I OPEN MANY DOORS. EYES ARE A WINDOW. THE HEART IS A DOOR. NO MORE WINDOWS. OPEN UP, SECRETS REVEALED." 

While most of the other notes have been written in some sort of cipher, another that has been cracked was found on the corpse of one David Carroll, an online content creator who ran the Amusement Arcadians Youtube channel. His read: "MISERY, MISERY, MISERY. UNCOUTH AND ASTRAY. UNLOCKED, FREED FROM THIS HELL." Additionally, certain major military and governmental documents seemed to have disappear along with strange break-ins across the UK and abroad, as reports from the US come in about similar killings.

While Law enforcement is attempting to find a link between these murders, its important to stay calm and make sure to keep your doors locked and shut.

 

Nothing bad---

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

...

A Sigh, how do you even finish this sorta thing? A guy going around, killing people with Doorknobs that have knives attached to them? It's insane. Besides, this last bit barely works. The tone is all off and while it works for news... it lacks... something.

...

Just another late night for the reporter. This whole case gave 'em the shivers, not of fear of course, but excitement. Its been awhile since he's had a good story about a killer like this. All these new age ones are just disgruntled white boys and twinks with nothing to offer, no pizzazz, no-

Knock, Knock, Knock

"Bloody 'ell, who's there!?"

...

"Hello?"

"Nevilllleeeeee..."

a voice echoes in the dimly lit study... now where in gods name could it be coming from?

"Oh for the love of- I'm not fuckin' scared of yea, you costumed creep!"

a stance... as if that would really do much, but it was better than nothing.

"I assure you... You will be."

"Sure you aren't scared yourself? C'mon, show yourself you daft cu-ACKH!"

An Arm from behind comes around his throat, its too dark to see much except the slight reflection of the attacker on the window... yet the cold chrome reveals much.

"Behind you...  sorry about the surprise, I thought you liked them."

Every breath is one wasted, the most the unfortunate reporter can get is a wheeze at times...

"I like you, Neville... I really do. You write with such... eloquence! The detail in your work is astounding really..."

"But I'm not here to fanboy Nevillleeee... I'm not here to give you an award or- or... give you the honorable medal of fantastic journalism."

"I'm here because you have something I want. I think you already know what it is, Neville."

"I- I don't."

"NAMES, NEVILLE! NAMES! MUST I SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU?! I KNOW YOU HAVE THEM!"

In a seemingly random fit of anger, the stranger slams the reporter into his desk, stabbing a doorknob with an spike on its back into his hand, pinning him to his desk.

"GAH! YOU SUNNOVA-FUCK!"

"No more secrets. Now, you can either give me what I want... or we'll do this the hard way."

"YOU CRAZY TWAT, I DON'T KNOW whAT YOU'RE taLKING ABOUT!"

"Fine, be like that. I'll figure it all out my own way... BUT YOU'RE COMING WITH!"

The reporter is torn from his desk, the doorknob ripped out of his hand and suddenly picked up. The attacker taking the reporter's laptop with him.

"AUUUGHHHH, DAMN IT, PUT ME DOWN, I-"

And then thrown out his own window. A Great VRRRSSSSHHH comes from above as he's suddenly picked up by some sort of drone, the strange assailant landing on top of it.

"YOU'RE ABOUT TO HAVE THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE... YOUR ENTIRE LIFE."

The last thing heard across the block, is a terrible cackling from the stranger as he rides off into the dark skies above...

Delphyrion Arcanis made a Move (Bigswordsman GMed) 1 week, 3 days ago. View Move

Family Time

U. Dunnit flips through the pages of a document compiling the manifests of local warehouses and ports. Cross referencing with some of the stuff he's checked himself. A few pounds of fertilizer here, a couple there, some electronics missing...

Negligible. Almost. There was just something that didn't sit right with him...

He felt a tap on his shoulder. "Papa? We've gotta go!"

He glances at the clock on his desk and realized the time. "Oh sh-shoot, Pumpkin! Did you already-" Dunnit turns their head back to see that Sarah's already prepared.

He slides open a drawer to the side of the desk, stuffs the document inside, and checks to see if his keys and wallet are in his pockets.

After rushing into the car, he turns to Sarah and ruffles her hair to her annoyance. She pouts, "Papa, I just brushed my hair!"

He takes out a hairbrush from the glovebox and hands it to her, face beaming. "I can't wait for your recital, Pumpkin. You're going to do amazing."

Laughing, Sarah gave him a toothy grin before taking the brush. "You know I will!"

Driving along the road to the dance studio, Dunnit can't help but get that sinking feeling that something terrible was about to happen...

Posted by HumbleMemeMumbles, 1 week, 4 days ago. Permalink

Terrorists hit VPD Headquarters, Canada pushes for Police State and counter-terrorism measures, Rising weapons manufacturer "The Daedalus Corporation" funds and supplies intense global efforts for counter-terrorism.

BREAKING NEWS:

VANCOUVER BC POLICE DEPARTMENT TOWER DESTROYED IN VIOLENT TERRORIST ATTACK AMID PROTESTS.

We come to you with terrible news, as the Vancouver BC Police department’s main tower has fallen. During a protest, 3 Supernatural Terrorists made their way into the building and demolished its supports, causing it to crash in on itself. The death toll is at 300 and rising and Tens of thousands of officers and civilians have been reported missing, injured or in critical condition. In-response, The Canadian government has already begun to move hard into counter-terrorism and anti-supernatural measures and contingencies. Additionally, Canadian Intelligence is conducting an investigation into not only the identities of these terrorists, but who they may work for. However, Canada isn’t the only one with their sights set on a war on terror. Around the world, tensions are rising and other western countries are beginning to put through their own bills in order to increase militarization in law enforcement and countering potential terroristic threats experimental weapons manufacturer “The Daedalus Corporation”. Though much is unknown about the manufacturer, they have put forth a total of 450 billion dollars into militarization efforts around the world.

Additionally, ARM-E Units designed by the UN’s newest assistant director of defense technologies, Atticus Mekk, have been finalized for deployment for defense against heavier threats. When asked about how this will effect security worldwide, Mekk responded with “I think we’ll see an uptick in global security and successful terrorist attacks being a thing of the past,” said Mekk, “We had a lot of success in the testing phases where we had them working with law enforcement. I think a full roll-out is definitely the next step.”

Only time will tell if Canada can ever recover from such a tragedy. Perhaps one day, harmony will be achieved… even if we have to go through a rough patch to get it.

 

Goro Hamada made a Move (HumbleMemeMumbles GMed) 2 weeks, 3 days ago. View Move

Bombing causes breakout at Oregon State Penitentiary, U.N. employs reformed tech genius for new World Security solutions.

CNN

 

Terrible news in Oregon again as Oregon State Penitentiary, recently known for holding a large amount of criminals with strange and bizarre abilities, has been busted open by two unknown men in a helicopter. The perpetrators dropped a medium-sized IED on top of the prison complex, allowing for the escape of multiple convicts. Additionally, two more explosions were set off near the meta-wing of the prison, resulting in a chain reaction that allowed 45 convicts with special abilities to escape. 

The escaped convicts include the following: Infamous meth Kingpin Lemmy G, 'Motorcykill' Man, Gnolbert Manana, 'Lady Shade', John, 'Manhive', Polycule, The Woker, Manana, "The Creature from the Dark world", 'Tin King', 'Tele...(Can I even say that one? No?)Frag, Amephetamine-Vinyl-Machinery Man, The Wall, and Modern Man. We will continue to keep the public updated as more information about the escapees comes out.

 

With the world now in more danger than ever, many countries within the U.N. have called for increased security worldwide. With an almost unanimous decision, U.N. officials are now looking into unlikely allies... most specifically one convicted criminal in general, a man by the name of Atticus Mekk. Despite having the chance to escape, Mr. Mekk stayed behind to wrangle an old malfunctioning prototype military droid, one of the more dangerous in the complex.

 "Prison gave me a lot of time to reflect," Says Mekk "I don't why they kept that in there, maybe it was to keep us scared or something... but I knew that if I could use my power for good. Who knows what might come of it?" While Mr. Mekk's testimony has been under heavy scrutiny from not only Oregon state courts, but international court as well, Mekk insists that the retrieved droid in question could be the solution to global security. 

After much debate from U.N., it would later be ruled that Mr. Mekk would lead the project in creating a mechanized world defense force under intense supervision.

The world may be scarier than ever nowadays, but it's clear that even despite great evil, redemption can blossom from strange places and bring something that may change how we deal with crime forever. 

Jacob Cruz made a Move (Cryst0lline GMed) 3 months, 4 weeks ago. View Move

Fragments of an ambivalent lifetime... seen through the eyes of Jacob Cruz.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Is this Jacob Cruz? No? Doesn't matter.

Tell him that Adam is inviting him out for dinner. Might get gyros. Oh, and if you know a Neil, tell him to come along too."

Click.

 

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"It's me. I don't exactly know anyone who could help, but I'll see what I can offer on my end. Just... watch your back this time. Also, the spaghetti was good. Didn't want the birds to eat it and get sick. I only tried one strand. Burned the rest because... maybe that'll get to him somehow. Also, he visited in a dream. ...Yeah."

Click.

 

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Heyyy, it's meee. It's funny how people start off calls like that. Very cliched, but very cool and mysterious anyway! I'm so cool. Anyways yeah if I don't answer any calls don't panic, I'm just on some very important business as I mentioned, and if things go well I won't be back, like, ever. Or maybe I will be, I love my friends.

I've told the others already, I just think it'd be very nice of me to send a personalized message to everyone. I know, it's probably a waste of tuition money, and I know you complain about how I seem to just throw money away at every whim but hey, I'll be happy and that's what matters. I mean what? I'm always happy.

Thanks for joining my ouija thingy though. I still don't know why it spelled out your name. Sorry if that was creepy."

Click.

 

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"If you dare tell anyone, you know what I'm capable of. Surely you've seen people like me before. Live and let live, you say? Fine. Just know that he meant something to me, and if you even think about dragging his name through the mud, K will be the least of your worries."

Click.

 

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Hey. I was told I should check on you more often, but surely you've been able to hold your own. I don't know why you keep looking at me weird, but if you've got something to say, say it to my face. Also... I don't know if that's Caliose. ...Just saying. How would I know? Well..."

Click.

Posted by HumbleMemeMumbles, 4 months ago. Permalink

Oregon Congresswoman Lori Chavez-Deremer missing

whoopsies!

Koriol Celestheryne made a Move (HumbleMemeMumbles GMed) 4 months, 1 week ago. View Move

Real life Green Goblin Spider-man caught on video at 3AM!!! Gone Wrong, gone wrong! GONE WRONG! GONE WRONG HELP. (Amusement Arcadians)

The video opens up on a young man.

He's tired.

He's been doing this for awhile, too long. But, in all honesty... it pays the bills at least.

"Hey guys! Welcome back to another calling at 3 AM Challenge video, now today I've got the number of the Green Goblin, yes you heard it, the Green Goblin from Spider man's phone number." The act is meaningless, barely there, but the world spins anyways.

"Now from what I've heard if you call the Green Goblin at 3 AM, he will come to your house and-" 

Knock, Knock, Knock 

"Who is that... Elijah, did you call someone over?" 

"No? Is that...?"

"I just saw him go into the- this isn't apart of the..."

"Well, you wanna go check? Or do you want me to turn off the camera?"

"Nah, keep it rolling... this might be something interesting, people don't just knock at this time of day..."

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

There's a hesitation as the young man walks towards the door. A Fan perhaps? at this hour? Maybe.

Checking outside the window... he can't see anything. Neither can the camera.

"Alright guys... we're gonna open the door. Maybe the Green Goblin found us already, you never know."

"Should we do it slowly or-"

click

"What was that?"

K ABOOM!

There's an explosion. The young man blasted backwards by the door, slamming him into the wall.

There's a scrambling. The camera sliding across the floor as the cameraman crawls towards it.

"DAAAAAAVIIDD!"

An individual an a strange garb waltzes into the scene, their face obscured by a somewhat bulbous helmet and hood. Body obscured mostly via tattered cloak.

They seem to be somewhat silvered in color... Nickel perhaps? Or maybe a distressed chrome...

The breath of the cameraman is heavy... an attempt to hide away. Leads to them hiding behind a corner wall.

Heavy steps approach the young man, the click of... something else.

"We have some business... you and I."

"Wh-what? Who are you?!"

"I'm your newest worst nightmare. Now get up."

The young man is picked up by the collar of his shirt, as a VRRRRRSH, comes in from off-screen.

Some sort of flying drone bursts into the room as the oddly garbed individual gets on top of it, young man in hand.

"Let's go for a ride... shall we? I know a place with a great view..."

As the two fly out of the room on the drone. A doorknob is chucked near the cameraman...

"A Parting gift!"

The Camera attempts to capture their escape, but they're too late... catching the perp only flying into the night.

There's another K ABOOM!  as the camera turns around to reveal a house in flames.

"Oh... fuck."

"We're totally getting demonetized..."

The video ends shortly after.

Jacob Cruz made a Move (HumbleMemeMumbles GMed) 4 months, 1 week ago. View Move

VPD Forensics Department Whistleblower speaks out. Department denies claims of corruption.

 C  T  V  News

Vancouver

Its no surprise that a lot has happened in the last few months down in Vancouver, SFU with it's lawsuit is only one of many potential life-altering events happening in the Vancouver area. This week, a man by the name of Jacob Cruz has spoken out against the Vancouver Police Department's forensics division about supposed corruption. 

A Video appeared on cryptoleak to apparently expose the department and it's corruption and how he was apart of "fixing" the cases due to blackmail. Much of it, upon further investigation seems legitimate.

CTV Vancouver attempted to reach out to Mr. Cruz to discuss these claims, yet found no way to contact him.

Chief of Vancouver Police Department, Troy Price, had this to say about the matter, "We're currently going under internal investigations on both the location of Mr. Cruz, and the claims of 'corruption' inside our forensics department." He said in a press conference this morning. "We don't know if this source is trustworthy or not and proper precautions must be taken so that the investigation doesn't wind up a wild goose chase."

When asked about the legitimacy of Mr. Cruz's claims, the response was simply, "We get these claims all the time from disgruntled folks with nothing to lose, it's important to know what and who you're looking at," notes Price. "We've done our own investigations and research on Mr. Cruz and we think we have an idea of who he is and what he's all about, which effects how we take this information and use it in our own assessments of corruption."

While the department says it's going under investigations, trust in the police dwindles among the populace.

On social media, Anti-police accounts post things such as "I always knew the pigs were corrupt! Just took someone inside to blow the whistle," One account writes. 

Another account posts, "There's always going to be some people who don't believe us when we say the Police DONT protect and serve. Well, now there's a video to prove it, and it can't be taken down."

When asked about how these accusations affect her line of work, Deputy Chief of Investigation - Fiona Wilson - had this to say, "These accusations only hurt our line of work more than help it. Who can trust the investigators when they can't even trust that the cases are true?" She notes. "There is a public trust that the Police have with communities, and these allegations corrode that trust. It's no good for either side."

Many cases are now being looked at with a more cynical or inquisitive lens, however, it's still hard to tell if this really is the truth, or just another charlatan. Whoever the whistleblower truly is, things are changing in Vancouver, it's just a matter of time before we see what this change truly brings.

 

 

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'It was like Home alone':

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Causing massive damage 

 

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