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Korvus Vesper's Journal
Korvus's Collection of tapes
Its a big shelf of tapes with a sprawl of recordings on the shelfs. The most recent is the ones in the 12th series.
Detroit Deals
Downtime
Audio Log #12-1.5, Manifeststion
The familiar click of a recorder is heard, and the hum starts to fill the quiet room.
”Audio Log Number 12-1.5.”
”I was not expecting the manifestation to be so sudden, or so clear. But, life is full of surprises. As ashamed as I am to admit it, nightmares sometimes haunt my mind, the faces of those I’ve worked on burned into my eyes for as long as I can remember. Kian…”
There is a huff, with hints of regret in it. The faces morphed into nightmares, plague’s his mind.
”But soon, these nightmares will leave me, and all my work, and sacrifices will not be in vain. And it starts, with the dream. An entity, showed me a way, the part I was missing this entire time. When I awoke, my black mask that I carry with me was on me, black fumes smoking out from its filters. It smelled of nothing inside the mask, but taking it off, was a smell of smoke, and almost tar. For most, this would be off putting or even repulsive, but for me, it was welcoming.”
Deep breathing is heard, muffled from what sounds to be the mask.
“Oh so welcoming… As I breath, I feel a substance form from my back, and watched in awe as a large arm made from a black ooze was formed, mimicking the hand movements of the side it was on. It could be moved like a normal arm as well, however having it mirror a hand makes it easier to focus with.”
There is a goopy, dripping sounds that is made clear as he speaks, drops of liquids dripping on the floor.
“Like the entity said, this is only a part of the cure, a fraction of my power that I can manifest. Doing these contracts, seems to be the best way to advance it. Once I’ve done enough, I will finally be able to finish my cute, and my life’s work will come to fruition.”
He chuckles as the sounds of the ooze stop, and he picks up the recorder.
“I’ll give you what you always wished for Josephina. I’ll make sure your efforts will be used to their fullest potential Kian. I will prove them all, wrong.”
”End Log.”
With the click of the recorder, the wiring noise that it made came to a close, and a radio in the room continued its song, a well deserved break to the bleak environment. The tape is labeled 12-1.5.
Crepitus
Downtime
Audio Log #12-2.5 “Emergence”
The clack of a new cassette tape being slotted in is heard, and the familiar click of it recording rings out once more.
”Audio Log Number 12-2.5”
”The wound that I had acquired from the last contract has healed over thankfully. I’m still relieved it nothing more than a stab wound to my leg, and didn’t injure anything vital.”
There’s a sigh, and the repeated clicking of a pen is heard.
”The entity that appeared the first time I finished my contract with came to me again in my slumber. This time, I felt as I was able to see them more clearly, but still blurred from my mind. They guided me to think more deeply on my morphology, and alluded to how I may manifest my next advancement. Awaken again, the mask was already on me, and it felt as it was imbued more of the fumes that I was first accustomed towards. Getting up, I walked towards my experimentation theater, though not in as well condition as in its glory days. With dried blood stains lightly dotting the place, and broken equipment scattered around. It would still work for minor experiments at the very least.”
The clicking stops, and a deep breath is heard, muffled by a mask.
”I thought to myself that if contracts like last where going to be deadly as they could’ve been, I would need a better way to defend myself. Glancing around the room, an old, broken down bone saw caught my eye. I picked it up, feeling how light and easy it was to wield, yet knowing how strong it could be. And at that moment, an idea came to me. Concentrating on its form, I morphed another ooze limb, made of the same black tar that I associate with my works. This time, instead of imprinting my hand, the saw was used instead, and it molded into a large, sharp mimic of it. Its shape was almost an exact match to the broke one, but it was fully repaired, clean, smooth. I felt the edge of it, and it was sharp, no, sharper then the saw ever was. Yet the rest of the arm was still malleable, not to the extent of the first form, but similar.”
The noise of ooze and tar dripping is heard once more.
”It’s fascinating, and deadly. I’ll have to practice using it on some cadavers, or on whatever subject Meliodus has lined up for me. With every one of those contracts completed, I feel more and more closer to fully evolving my science, and making my cure. Perhaps the next time the entity returns, I will try more, larger morphs.”
”End Log.”
The recorders click echo’s one last time for the day, and a slice of a blade rings out, with what seems to be books falling down. The tape is labeled “Audio Log #12-2.5”, with it seeming scratched.
OWL - The Occult Wildlife Landing
The Occult Wildlife Landing (OWL) is a nonprofit organization that advocates for the rights of supernatural creatures to live a life unmolested by humanity’s relentless spread and greed.
While OWL has become the de-facto head of the conservationist movement in the United States, many claim it’s not as innocent as it appears. A number of small, seemingly-disconnected terrorist cells wear the OWL insignia with pride. These groups– which tend to contain a disproportionate number of supernatural creatures and beings– commit high-profile acts of public violence with the intent of furthering OWL’s core objectives. In the past, they’ve blown up oil pipelines, stopped development projects, and even infected congregations of people with mutagenic viruses.
OWL denies any involvement with these so-called “OWL-inspired terrorist organizations” (or OITOs for short). However, many people conflate the two and consider OWL itself to be a terrorist organization.
One thing is for certain: when OWL sends a blast to its followers urging protest, they’re taken seriously.