Tumbling along

What have I been doing these past days? Besides filing, you mean?

Well, I have a new project: this. Yes, that is a Tumblr. Why the SMSC wants one is unknown to me and probably above my pay grade. But I am in charge of it.

Why? Because I'm the "tech savvy" junior agent. Because I operate one blog, so why not two? Because I am the lowest on the totem pole.

Just because, I guess.

Doctor Stardust

So the doctor turned out to be a lady. I sat there on her comfy couch for about an hour and told her everything that happened with Dr. Adams. I even mentioned my dream about him.

She wrote that down, but said that it was just my mind sorting out the week's events and that it probably meant nothing. I asked if 'probably' meant that it maybe might be something and she said there was always a possibility that Dr. Adams actually communicated with me, as there have been some cases (poorly cited though they were) of communication through dreams.

She tried to brush it off like it wasn't a big deal and maybe it isn't, but...what if it was real? Does that mean I really should beware the Hungry Men? I don't even think we have any references to "the Hungry Men," whatever they are.

In any case, Doctor Stardust was nice, so I'm not worried about my evaluation. Other things, yes, but not that.

Doctor's Appointment

Okay, apparently I have an appointment with "Doctor Stardust" tomorrow. They are apparently the personal therapist for SMSC agents. All agents are required to go to a session after encountering a Fear. It's apparently "absolutely required" for rookie agents, like myself.

Now, my own question is: is the good doctor Ziggy or Lady?

I guess I'll find out.

A Bad Dream

I had a nightmare last night.

It was after I had already dreamed about going to work nude. After I had belatedly realized I was lacking in the clothing department, I rushed back to my desk to get dressed (I don't know why I had spare clothes in my desk, but hey, dream logic) and saw him: Dr. Adams.

He was standing outside my window. His eyes were still missing, only now there were light bulbs in them. As I looked at him, they blinked on and off.

"I'm transmitting this with on the large 75-volt delta wavelength, so you should see me during your deep sleep," he said.

"Um, okay," I said, quickly putting all my clothes on. I hoped he hadn't seen me nude, then I remembered he had light bulbs for eyes, so probably not. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to thank you," he said. "If it hadn't been for you, I would never have known what it was like."

"What what is like?"

"Death," he said. "And rebirth, of course. The Newborn killed me and brought me back. It dug its nerves and wires into my head and it rebooted me. It remade me. And now I can see everything so much clearer. So thank you."

"Um, you're welcome," I said.

"And since you were the one responsible," he said, "I just wanted to return the favor."

"No, thanks," I quickly said. "I don't really want to be...reborn."

"Not that," he said. "I just wanted to give you some advice. A warning, actually. Beware the Hungry Men. They will pick your bones clean."

He smiled and his teeth were screws and bolts and when he opened his mouth, I saw that his tongue was a live wire, sparking and arcing with electricity. His light bulb eyes blinked again and then I woke up.

Assignment: Oblivion! Part Deux

I'm not fired. Actually, Liza Jane said most agents mess up on their first assignment. Well, she said "fuck up" but yeah, I guess it wasn't as terrible as I thought. Still terrible, just not as terrible.

So on with the story: we went to this hospital to look for an Oathbreaker. Me and Aladdin Sane.

He didn't really talk much, but he did give me some advice. "Don't get rattled," he said. "Worse thing you can do is panic and start shooting. Oathbreakers are human anyway, so there's really no need to be worried. We're just here to find him and arrest him."

I was still nervous. "What if..." I paused. "What if they call the Plague Doctor here or something?"

"First of all," he said, "I don't think they can call PD any time they want. Second, if it does show up...get out of there and get out fast. That requires complete evacuation of the hospital. For those situations, we usually call in a bomb threat and then wait for it to go away."

A bomb threat? Holy crap, I thought. What the hell have I gotten myself into.

We met some agents from the local FBI branch when we got to the hospital. They didn't know why exactly we were arresting some doctor, but we had already told them it was due to "national security reasons." (Sometimes Big Brother really is looking out for you.)

Then we split up. I know, I know: stupid move, Scooby Doo. But it was a huge hospital and we all had guns and there was just supposed to be one Oathbreaker. So sue us.

Of course, I ended up being the one to find him. It was just plain luck, actually - I realized halfway through the search that I had to go to the bathroom and when I finished, I noticed that the door to the room next to the bathroom was ajar. I peeked through and saw him.

Per his file, his name was Dr. John Adams and he was forty-six, had graying brown hair and brown eyes. He was also holding a large syringe and preparing to inject what looked like a comatose patient.

"Freeze," I said and burst through the door with my gun out. My heart was beating faster than it had ever done before. "Drop the syringe."

"You don't want me to do that," Dr. Adams said calmly, raising both hands. "You don't know what you're dealing with here actually."

"You're an Oathbreaker."

"Ah," he said, "you're not the usual authorities. Let me guess: the SMSC, correct? I knew I would eventually attract your attention, but now is not really a good time, you know. This patient needs to be moved to a more secure location."

"You're not going anywhere," I said, trying to sound as much like Dirty Harry as I could. It didn't really work.

Dr. Adams raised one eyebrow and continued talking. "You see, this patient has been infected with something and, well, if I don't inject him and then move him, very soon it's going to hatch."

"I said...wait, hatch?"

"Yes," he said, "I believe the common term for this organism is the Manufactured Newborn. We've been experimenting with it, but it's quite dangerous, you see. In..." He looked at his watch. "...about two minutes, it will emerge from this man's body and continue to grow."

I swallowed. "How do I know you're not lying?" I asked. "That syringe could kill him."

"He's already dead, Miss," Dr. Adams said, "the Newborn has eaten all his internal organs. If you want, I can show you an X-ray, but we really don't have time. I suggest you let me take him back to the Crumbling Castle before you have a full-blown incident on your hands."

What the hell was I going to do? I could arrest him and potentially let out a monster that could kill dozens of people or I could let him go, knowing full well that he experimented with and killed a man (probably more than one). So I took a third option.

"I have to call this in," I said and took out my walkie-talkie. I asked for Aladdin Sane and said I had found Dr. Adams and mentioned that there might be a "Mike November" problem as well.

"Are you positive?" Sane asked.

"No," I said. "He could be lying, but...why?"

"Ma'am," Dr. Adams said as he waved one hand. I lowered the walkie-talkie. "I just wanted to point out that two minutes have passed."

"Nothing's happened," I said. "Was it a lie?"

"If you remember," Dr. Adams said, "I said about two minutes."

I looked from him down to the patient. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him except for the fact he was comatose. And then I noticed it: his stomach. It was rippling.


"Shit," I said and spoke into the walkie, "He wasn't lying."

There was a squawk on the radio and then I heard Sane say, "Get out. Get out now."

And then the patient's stomach exploded.

I don't really remember much after that, but I do remember the thing that emerged looked like it was using his ribcage as a torso. Dr. Adams died pretty much instantly, I think. It...it ripped out his eyes.

I couldn't move at first. I just...I just stood there paralyzed. And then I felt a hand on my shoulder and someone pulling me and then I was able to turn around and run. I later realized it was Sane who did it. He pretty much saved my life.

We ended up evacuating the hospital and waiting for the Newborn to consume enough and grow enough until it could leave. Afterwards, the place looked like a warzone. But the only casualties were the patient (whose name, unfortunately, I still don't know) and Dr. Adams.

I really want to hate him. I mean, he experimented on people. He was responsible for the whole thing. But...but he wanted to move the patient. Perhaps he just wanted to minimize exposure or maybe he really didn't want anyone else hurt. I don't know.

When I got back, I was debriefed for about two days and then had to write my report and deliver it. Then, since I was in charge of filing, I went and filed copies of my report.

I found Lunete in the break room. She took one look at me and gave me a big hug.

It was the best hug I've ever had.

Assignment: Oblivion!

Okay, that sounds more melodramatic than what actually happened. But, um, for my first assignment, it didn't go that well.

The assignment was to go to this hospital in a major metropolitan city (not telling which one), because there were certain reports that suggested that there might be an "OSCAR DOCTOR" working there. That's code for Oathbreaker. Yeah, I don't know why they don't just use Oathbreaker, but apparently that's the code they use.

In any case, an Oathbreaker is a servant of Subject Papa Delta (Plague Doctor), so we can't have them working at a hospital. Generally, we don't even know about them, they fly so under our radar, but this one apparently had given away enough hints for us to actually get involved. Yay.

I have to finished writing my official report right now, so I'm going to cut this post short and tell the rest of the story later.

Hopefully, I won't be fired.

Updates

It's been, what, two months since I last updated? Wow, where has the time gone.

Well, mostly to filing. And more filing. And even more filing.

And training. Yeah, I've been to the shooting range before, but I after the academy, I sort of stopped going and haven't practiced in a while. Now that I'm in a...stranger department, I figured I needed to bump up on my accuracy and range. So it's gotten to be a tradition that Saturdays are Shooting Days - me and Lunete go to the shooting range and practice shooting paper targets.

Oh, yeah, I didn't mention Lunete yet. Well, ever since she joined as liaison to the Special Ministry, we've kind of gotten to be friends. She occasionally helps me file stuff and I let her talk about what it was like back in London. I guess I'm more of the ear for her to talk to, but hey, everyone needs someone to listen to them.

As for Aladdin Sane...well, he tends to leave me alone most days. Some days he will talk to me gruffly, but he stays in his office and...does stuff. Research, I think. Sometimes, he will go out on a trip, but he won't tell me where he's going. I have a feeling that they give him assignments that other agents don't want.

Of course, all that changed last Friday. That's when I got my first active assignment.

I had everything pretty much sorted by BUE. And then there was a knock and Liza Jane entered. "Grinning Soul," she said, "I know we had you occupied with this stuff-" She gestured around the room at the various files. "-but we need you on an assignment now." She handed me a manila folder. "Flight leaves Monday, make sure you've read everything by then. Agent Sane will meet you at the airport."

Reading everything wasn't the problem. It's making sure my teeth aren't chattering or my skin isn't shivering. It's making sure I am not scared out of my wits.

Because all those reports I've been sorting and filing? I've gotten good looks at them. Really good looks. I've read some things that gave me nightmares and still give my shivers whenever I think of them. I kept myself from being scared by saying that I'm just a glorified file clerk. I got out any excess fear by going to the shooting range. I didn't think that I would actually be going on an active assignment.

And Aladdin Sane's coming with me. I don't know how I going to handle this.

...probably with a lot of booze.

Lunete

She poked her head into the files room, where I had eventually retreated to safety. She was beautiful: tall, blonde, thin. Almost the exact opposite of me.

"I'm sorry," she said in a British accent. "Is this the records room?"

"Yes," I said. "Are you the liaison from the General Ministry?"

She smiled and said, "The accent gave it away, didn't it?" She stuck out her hand and said, "I'm Lunete."

"Lady Grinning Soul," I said. To her credit, she didn't chuckle at the unusual codename. To stave off the inevitable awkward silence, I said, "I like your name."

"She was the handmaiden of Laudine, the Lady of the Fountain," Lunete said, "who was the wife of Ywaine, the Knight of the Lion."

"Oh," I said. I hadn't realized it was a codename, but it made sense.

"Yeah," Lunete said. "The men get great names like Percival and Agravain, while the women are left with the names of wives and handmaidens. Not many powerful women in Arthurian myths." I liked her already. "Anyway, I'm here to help with the information exchange. They said you were in charge of the file organization?"

"Um, yeah," I said. I gestured to the file folders, which were stacked haphazardly. I could see Lunete's face fall. "It was worse before I got here."

"You don't everything backed up on a computer?" Lunete asked.

"Um," I thought back to what Liza Jane had told me when I asked her the same thing. "Too much risk from...Thoughtborn?"

"Ah," Lunete said, as if that explained everything. "Well, let me help you then. I don't think I have anything better to do. If I stay out in open any longer, I'm afraid I may get ogled to death."

So I made a new British friend. Yay.

Morning Meeting

So apparently, we have a meeting every Tuesday morning so Liza Jane can dole out assignments and see what everyone's working on and what their progress is. It was slightly nerve wracking for me, since I hadn't met everyone -- or, really, anyone other than Liza Jane and the receptionist. I had been working in the files room for the last day and nobody had really come in there.

Anyway, I walked in and sat down on a chair. Most of the others that sat down were men, although I did see some female agents.

After everyone had sat down, Liza Jane walked up to the desk in the end of the room. "As you probably heard, we had an incursion by a Nest a few days ago." There was a tension in the room. "Nobody was hurt, but there was a warning. We need to keep better track of the Convocation's territory." She looked around the room and then said, "We also have a new agent to help organize and bring everything up to date. This is Lady Grinning Soul." She pointed at me and I looked down.

Then she pointed at two other male agents - "Joe" and "Red" - and asked them about the new Timberwolves territory in South Carolina. They said that they were mapping out encounters, but it could take a while. Liza Jane pointed at two other agents, male and female - "Pablo" and "Pallas" - and asked about a Smiling Man sighting in Maryland. They responded that they didn't know if it was the Smiling Man or a run of the mill serial killer, in which case it would be turfed over to the regular FBI. She told them to go down to the site and check it out.

She went around the room like that, calling on various agents - each codename sounding strange to my ears, like "Wild-Eyed Boy" and "V-2 Schneider" and "China Girl." She heard everyone's progress and then gave them new assignments if they hadn't been making any headway into old ones.

Finally, she came to me. "Grinning Soul," she said. "I know you're new, but you still need a partner. I'm going to pair you up with Aladdin Sane." She pointed to another male agent - this one tall, with dark hair. He didn't seem to notice me, instead intent on writing notes in his notebook. The other agents seem to whisper at my assignment - one of them even patted me on the shoulder and said "Good luck."

"Finally," Liza Jane said, "the liaison to the General Ministry is arriving today, so everybody better be on their best behavior." Everyone in the room - minus Liza and Aladdin Sane, I noticed - groaned at that.

After the meeting, I asked Liza Jane what the "General Ministry" was. "Our UK counterpart," she said as she gathered up all her papers. "Except much, much more efficient. We just made a deal with them to exchange information, so we're getting a liaison to help." And with that, she went back to her office.

I turned around and looked for Aladdin Sane. If he was my partner, I should get to know him, right?

Finally, I tried asking someone where his desk was. Their nameplate said their codename was "Wood Jackson." "He has his own office," Jackson told me. He was a redheaded agent, kind of chubby. "Only one of us that does. Because he's special." He said the word 'special' like it was the punchline to a joke. When he saw that I didn't get it, he said, "He was Liza Jane's partner before she became the head agent. He hasn't had a partner since." I asked if Liza Jane was showing favoritism, but he said, "Nah, he just gets moody. Nobody really wants to be his partner, because it's like partnering with Edgar Allen Poe. And he gets his own office because he's the longest lasting agent. But we still like to tease him, you know?"

Okay, so I had a partner who was moody, yet was the 'longest lasting' of the agents? What had happened to the others?

"You're a rookie," Jackson told me. "You met, what, one Nest? Yeah, that's no biggie. Nests used to be human, they got emotions and motivations and things. You can understand Nests. Now, you meet an actual Fear, well, that's when you know if you can handle things here. Most of the time, most of the agents, they can't." And then he went back to his assignment, going through recent reports of viral outbreaks and looking for "OB or PD" involvement.

And that was my morning.

More later.

Getting To Know You

The "you" in this case being the eldritch abominations in which I am meant to keep track. I mean, the thickest file in the cabinets (and, actually, it was just the first of many such files) was for this:

Subject Tango Whiskey Delta (Thin White Duke)

More colloquially known as the 'Slender Man,' he's a tall, thin guy with no face that abducts children, stalks people when he's not eviscerating them, and interferes with electronics. Apparently, someone had the funny idea to call him the Thin White Duke and decided everyone here would be named after David Bowie songs as well. So, whoever made that decision: thanks a lot.

Luckily, the other subjects aren't named after David Bowie songs. Unfortunately, they are all listed under their codenames. Which makes it hard to decipher sometimes:

Subject Alpha Romeo

Subject Bravo Mike
Subject Charlie Bravo
Subject Charlie Hotel
Subject Charlie Oscar
Subject Delta Mike
Subject Echo Alpha Tango
Subject Echo Charlie
Subject Mike November

Subject Papa Delta
Subject Romeo Alpha
Subject Sierra Mike
Subject Uniform Charlie

Subject Whiskey Golf

See what I mean?

Oh, and I know that these things are usually referred to as 'Fears.' It sounds like an easy to remember name, actually. Which why they never use it. Why use an easy name when they can make it a stupid sounding one? The name they use is BUE. It's pronounced 'bowie'. It stands for Biologically Unknown Entity. Nobody uses it except in official reports. Because it's stupid.

Oh well. Hopefully, tomorrow I can get everything more organized.

When Trees Have Faces

Oh god, that TicketOak commercial is so goddamn creepy. When I got in this morning, I actually asked Liza Jane if there was some sort of eldritch involvement to it. She said they were looking into "the Bleeding Tree influence."

I asked what the heck a Bleeding Tree was and she told me that I'd get to it.

Post-Its Are A Girl's Best Friend

So, some of you may be wondering about the background to this blog. That's my basic starting system for organization: post-it notes. They are wonderful things. I haven't gone through all the files yet, but this is what I have so far:

The full board.

Also, some of you may be wondering why I am writing this blog, considering I work for a government agency with classified things.

Um, okay, this is harder to explain, but Liza Jane told me that I might feel the urge to write a blog about the SMSC. "Don't worry," she said. "It's just the compulsion. Usually, we get our agents to fill up journals, but I think we'll allow you to have an actual blog." When I asked why, she said something about keeping an "online presence."

So yeah. I'm not only the organizer, but also the hip online youth person. Which is weird for a super-secret monster tracking organization, right?

Welcome to the Occupation

So my boss calls me into his office today. There was another round of budget cuts last week, so I think I'm going to be fired. Instead, he tells me that he's kicking me upstairs. I'm going to become a full-fledged agent. Of sorts.

He proceeds to tell me this crazy story about the physical embodiments of primal fears or something. Basically, he says that evil monsters exist and that there is a special subagency that tracks them. They don't fight them -- because, basically, they are unkillable and the only thing we can do is track and try to contain the damage. And then he tells me that they are just one of many such agencies.

Why? I ask. He tells me that the government -- for which we both work -- has tried to keep these things secret for so long, that eventually the agencies themselves become secret and then someone creates a new one even though the old one still exists and suddenly there is a clusterfuck of massive proportions. Which is why there are, like, three agencies which track these things.

I think he's pulling my leg. He's obviously joking.

Except not. He gives me a new badge that has the letters SMSC on it and tells me to report to the fourth floor. I decide to play along and go to the fourth floor.

I get on the elevator. Also on this elevator? A cute guy. He's holding some papers and I think he's an intern maybe, because he looks kind of nerdy, but still cute. He smiles at me and I smile back.

I get off on the fourth floor and so does he. I walked to the front desk and he's right behind me. I introduce myself to the receptionist -- who rolls her eyes at me and calls her superior, someone named "Liza Jane." Then she looks behind me and her eyes go wide. I turn, but the only person behind me is the cute guy.

An alarm goes off suddenly and I realize the receptionist has hit the panic button. Red lights flash and sirens blare and the cute guy just grins at me. I suddenly notice that he has scars all along his arms and neck. He opens his mouth and a bird flies out.

I'm paralyzed now. I can't fucking move. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing or what the fuck is going on. More birds are coming out of the guy's mouth. Big birds. Birds that couldn't possibly fit in there. My mind briefly considers the notion that this is a magic trick of some sort before me and the guy are surrounded by agents with guns.

Another bird flies out of the guy's mouth and then he closes it and speaks. "This is just a warning," he says. "No more coming into our territory. Or else." He smiles and my bowels churn.

I don't know why the agents aren't firing at him. Am I in the way? And then this woman comes forward, straight black hair, looking pretty grim. She says, "We understand. You know the way out."

And then the birds fly backwards and there's this...ripping sound. But it's not like a sound at all, but like it's coming from everywhere. And there's a space behind the guy that's just...gone. It's gone and it's been replaced with a rip. A tear. And beyond the tear I can see the ocean and lightning and a storm. He smiles at me again and then walks backward into the tear. And then it closes.

And my knees buckle and I fall to the ground. This is no fucking practical joke.

The woman who spoke helps me up. She says her name is Special Agent Liza Jane. I introduce myself and she says my new name is Special Agent Lady Grinning Soul. I ask why and she shrugs and says it's just tradition. A new name for a new job.

I ask what just happened and she fills me in. The guy was a "Nest" who went back to the "Bleak Shore." He came here because the SMSC had been encroaching on "Convocation" territory.

She brings me to her office and gives me a cup of water. I ask her why I'm here. "You have exceptional organizational skills," she says. "And, basically, we're a mess. It takes all our time just to keep track of these things and, as you can see, they aren't particularly happy about it sometimes. But we do need to keep track. So we need someone who can organize and file and make sure all our I's are dotted and T's are crossed. Because even though we track these things, we are still an extremely underfunded government agency. So we need you."

I think about that guy in the elevator, how he smiled at me, and it still makes me nauseous. But then I look at Agent Liza Jane and see someone who has sat where I am sitting now and made it through. And I am good at sorting and filing and organizing things. So I say yes.

"Good," she says. "Welcome to the SMSC."