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Fandom Face the Fear, Build the Future - A Lobotomy Corporation Game



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Roleplay Availability
My Interest Check


. . .



Upon a close review of your application, we have decided to accept your offer to join our illustrious corporation. Given your prior experience and expertise, we gladly announce your assignment to our Control Team, the Department responsible for the monitoring and oversight of the facility. Be not afraid, you are in great and responsible hands, and any questions or inquiries as to the full extent of your labor shall be explained to you by your direct superiors.

Before we can truly begin our relationship as employer and employee, Management requires you to sign a small waiver. The contents of this waiver were disclosed to you on the hidden side of your contract, therafore there is no need for you to see them again. Please note that failure to comply will result in your immediate termination.



Day 1 - Decision I:
Who is signing the waiver?
  1. Emilia
  2. Everett
  3. Diva
  4. BongBong
1. Perfect name for a final girl.


With this binding signature, you have become a full-fledged member of our Wing. Rest easy knowing that Lobotomy Corporation will henceforth provide a stable and varied work environment, bustling with innovation and opportunity. Seeing as you are now ready for your first day of work, please follow the arrows to the appropriate elevator, which will take you to your assigned department.

From this point on, you will have to rely solely on your co-workers and your own intuition. Orders will be delegated to you by your superiors, and should you have any special requests, do not hesitate to inquire with your Captain or Department Head. Finally, always remember.


. . .


The elevator opens with a small, tinny ring. Before you can get a proper sense of your surroundings, you are instantly struck by the loud voice of a person dressed pretty much identically to you, wearing the armband of your department.

"Hey, you're the newbie, aren't you? You're two minutes late, but I guess you had to deal with paperwork."

They eye you from head to toe, sighing under their breath. As if in resignation, they relax their tense expression and look you straight in the eyes, continuing their uptight introduction.

"I'm Chel, the captain of Control. Basically, when anything goes wrong, listen to my exact orders and you might improve your chances of survival. Speaking of, don't get your hopes up now that you've joined a Wing. The facility we're standing in was fully rebuilt this month. Know what that means? The one that came before got annihilated, with not a single survivor at the end of its collapse. Only reason this place even has senior agents is because we were relocated from a different facility."

Chel scoffs, giving you one last glance-over. You're unsure what to think. Are they trying to warn you, or just make you feel bad for securing a respectable job? In the end, nothing is ever safe in the City, but a job as the Feather of a Wing always beats dying in the Backstreets. Surely the collapse of the former facility was merely an anomaly, right? Your thoughts have already began to wander, and so you decide to take in the Control Team's Main Room. It's a fairly modern one, spacious and painted a calming sandy yellow. There are large numbers of digital monitors plastered over the walls, which probably serve to keep an eye on the facility.

Just as you're about to start looking for a coffee machine, you hear an annoyed cough from Chel. They appear distinctly ready to erupt into a lecture about ignoring your betters, but are interrupted by the entrance of another individual.


"Good morning!"

Your second and last co-worker barges into the room, offering a meek wave.

"Oh, wow! You must be Emilia, right? I heard about your assignment from the Department Head. Is Chel giving you a hard time? Hehe, sorry about that, I'll try to keep them in check next time."

Chel rolls their eyes, exhaling in frustration.

"Well aren't you responsible, going as far as to keep your superiors in check? Let's also not ignore how you're four minutes late, when you're supposed to arrive twenty minutes before work begins. It wouldn't be very nice if someone was to write that into your performance evaluation, would it?"

"But that would never happen, hehe. Anyhow, I'm Dia! With Chel, we'll teach you the basics of our department and how to work with Abnormalities. Since this facility is brand spanking new, there's currently not a lot to keep track of. Most of the other departments are not opened yet, and those that are only house a single Abno."

"Correct. You filled out a test before coming today, yeah? Dia, did you bring the results?"

"Of course! This'll tell us what your personal strengths are! So, let's see..."

Day 1 - Decision II:
What do you most value about yourself?
  1. My Fortitude, I am not afraid of pain and trust my instincts
  2. My Prudence, anything can be understood through reason and insight
  3. My Temperance, my mind cannot be addled by distractions or attachment
  4. My sense of Justice, I cannot tolerate evil and will gladly repress its existence
Votes tallied from the Forum and the Blog
2- Prudence. We're hopefully a very reasonable individual.
2. Seconding prudence. The ability to reason is very important, very good.


"Wow, your best quality is Prudence! What I wouldn't give for a drop of wisdom..."

Dia scans a piece of paper they had fished out of their suit, going over each individual line. They hum a little tune to themself as they read, occassionally nodding or making a chirp of acknowledgement. After their eyes had dashed from left to right roughly twenty-seven times, their arm falls to the side together with the document. They make eye contact and smile.

"You'll make a great addition to our team, I'm sure."

Before that sentiment has a chance to sink in, Chel is already making a dissatisfied face. They snatch the paper from Dia's hand and give it a cursory skim, much less enthusiastic about the contents than their partner. Judging from their unamused expression, they probably don't have anything nice to say.

"Insightful, a strong sense of right and wrong and easily attached; you're exactly the opposite of what this company needs. I'm barely a senior, but even I know newbies like you are a dime a dozen. Let's quickly establish something."


"You're not here to make the world a better place."

Chel approaches closer, looking down at you. Their gaze is strong and almost spiteful, to the point you have to wonder where all that enmity is coming from. It's not like you have to be enemies, you wish to say, but you aren't provided an opportunity.

"You're here to produce energy without asking a single question. You'll be given ridiculous commands, told to do unspeakable things, dragged through the mud and forced to lose your friends one by one. This is how L Corp operates. If you let your bright little head get in the way of work, Management won't hesitate to feed you to the first Abnormality that thrives on human sacrifice. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

Not wishing to provoke further vitreol, and having caught on to their point, you nod reluctantly. Though L Corp as a Wing formed to replace a much more dubious predecessor, it seems no job is without a caveat. Have Chel and Dia really lived through such horrible things? You'll believe it when you see it, but it certainly won't hurt to be aware and careful. At the same time, you can't let down your seniors either. You hope you haven't bitten off more than you can chew.

"I'll take your pensive look as confirmation. With the formalities behind us, it's about time we paid a visit to our ward. Dia, you boot up the CCTV, in the meanwhile I'll introduce the newbie to Campfire."



You follow your captain past a heavy steel door and into a hallway, stuffy and dimly lit. More monitors decorate the walls, as well as a number of pipes and strange devices. You surmise some of them are used for communication, but most appear too alien to grasp. After a short while, you arrive in front of a tightly sealed gate.



"This is the containment unit of Campfire, designated O-04-27. While each department has their own specialty, all of us still have to interact with Abnormalities as that's how we produce energy. This should've been explained to you already, but let me recap just in case. Abnormalities are things sent to us by HQ, some of them living and some of them not. We perform work with these Abnormalities, which then generates Enkephalin."

Chel turns to see if you're paying attention before continuing the explanation.

"Generally, there's four types of work performed; Instinct, Insight, Attachment and Repression. Instinct sates physiological needs, Insight adjusts their living conditions, Attachment takes care of social needs and Repression denies them their purpose. Luckily for you, you'll be performing Insight work with Campfire."

Pressing a button near the ominous door, the containment unit opens at Chel's discretion. They step to the side, waiting for you to get in.

"We don't know much about it yet, except that it gets depressed after Repression is done. It seems relatively harmless, and the scariest thing it does is whisper. If you start seeing shadows out of the corner of your eye, just ignore them. Focus on your work, listening to their stories will only distract you."

Ending their brief, the captain shuts the door behind you.


The entity inside is surprisingly cute. It resembles a real campfire, although as far as you can tell, campfires don't usually possess faces. It crackles away, eating the wood beneath, and doesn't pay you any real attention. Soot is scattered all around it.

You come closer, feeling the calming heat. So this is an Abnormality, huh? It's not at all scary like you imagined, but that won't stop you from keeping your guard.

You're starting to wish you could toast a marshmallow and tell a story to your friends.

Day 1 - Decision III:
What should you do?
  1. Clean up the soot [Insight]
  2. Dim the lights [Insight]
  3. Increase the temperature [Insight]
  4. Tell a story [Attachment]
Votes tallied from the Forum and the Blog


You ponder how you should go about cleaning up the ashes. With only your hands to spare, you don't quite fancy the idea of getting on your knees and swiping them into your palms, let alone the question of what comes after. Exasperated at this conundrum, you squat down in front of the abnormality, peering into its strangely expressive eyes. An urge to unwind by telling it a friendly story wells up within you. This quirky little being just seems so very captivating, and it's not like you can accomplish anything else without the proper tools to do so. . .

Then, as if someone happens to be watching you, you hear a small 'ping' from a sand-green compartment nested inside the wall on your right. The compartment opens, spitting out an old-school, wooden broom, which comes racketing to the floor. The noise instantly grabs your attention, wiping away your impulsive thoughts and giving you just the implement necessary to carry out your initial goal.

As you sweep the ashes, Campfire chitters away softly. It's a relaxing sound, its irregular rhythm reminiscent of a person's heartbeat. Sometimes it speeds up, sometimes it slows down, and focusing on it lets you pass the time without ever growing restless. After you're done cleaning, you beat the broom against a trash recepticle found inside the compartment from before, and return the broom to its rightful throne. You place it down carefully, so that it doesn't hit the next employee square on the head.

Content with your work, you shut the compartment closed.



As you do so, the door to the containment unit unlocks automatically.

Taking this as a sign, you wave Campfire goodbye and step outside, making sure the lock is sealed behind you. The light-emitting device attached to the unit is glowing a bright green, signalling a job well done. It only took a few minutes, so you can't help but wonder how many times a day you'll be visiting the little fellow on average. Twenty times? Sixty? It might eventually become less than stimulating, but at least it has that nice and friendly aura. Besides, considering what you've heard from Chel, perhaps meniality is something to be thankful for.

Life can get much, much worse. One must always remain conscious of that.



Speaking of the devil, your green-haired colleague has clearly been waiting for you to finish. Leaning against the wall nearby, they cough to capture your attention, handing you a sheet of paper. The document seems to be hand-written, the ink at the bottom of the page still wet and bright blue.

"Campfire's unproblematic, isn't it? That's HQ's doing, easing new facilities into handling Abnormalities with ZAYIN classes at first. In the next few days, we might see a TETH or two, or maybe even a HE if we're unlucky. Those are the Risk Levels of each Abnormality in ascending order, topped off by WAW and ALEPH. I never got to work on an ALEPH before my transfer, but it's a safe bet to up your insurance once you're assigned to one."

Chel points to the right, as if chiding you to take your leave.

"You might've noticed we throw around a bunch of terms. That's because neatly classifying things is the only way to understand anything in a place like this; information is key. We obviously have a dedicated Info Team, but they're a bit understaffed at the moment. Usually, clerks would bring reports back and forth, but due to a Breach yesterday, Info's new batch is still on the way. They're one floor below us, you'll take this report on Campfire there. I would've done so myself, but meeting a true senior agent should serve your expectations of L Corp well. Get nice and acquainted, because all of us will either die or become like them by the end of this quarter."



Nodding, you depart as instructed. You march past Control Team's main room, where Dia sits hard at work in front of its monitors, and eventually find the correct elevator to take you down to the Information Department. It's strange, isn't it? Chel had said that only low-risk Abnormalities get delivered to new facilities, yet there's been an accident bad enough to cripple an entire department? The thought that they lied to trick you into being a courier crosses your mind, but your brief impression of Chel doesn't quite strike you as 'joking' or 'conniving.' Perhaps it has to do with this enigmatic "true senior?"

You're really curious to meet this person. Especially because of Chel's vague and cryptic warning, you want to know exactly what they're like. Are they simply jaded? You can certainly imagine yourself as jaded in the future, and the same goes for the already infringing captain. Even Dia, though? You'd rather they stay cheery and playful. Or maybe that's just selfish? Bah, curse your never-ending thoughts.

Still, you should probably be careful about this senior agent. They might still be in shock or grieving, since they've lost many friends only yesterday. It's a sad situation, you wish everyone could just have a Campfire in their lives.

Composing yourself, you enter the gate leading to the main room.



"Ehe. Ehehe. Welcome to Info Team, here for a cup of coldbrew?"

As you enter, you're immediately blinded by an onslaught of piercing, blue light. The entire room is drowned in the unsettling color, and it takes your eyes a good ten seconds to even barely adjust. There, welcoming you with a crooked grin, stands the true senior agent of the Information Department.

"Can you believe this facility tried to serve us decaf at first? Isn't that plain ridiculous? Not to worry, I know just the way to convince any department head to throw in a word with management. Ehehe. My heart is broken by the passing of my colleagues, if only I could have a small comfort like this! Little comforts are the best, wouldn't you say? With a fun game or a cup of coldbrew, you can kick back and listen to the tears of prudes as they're being torn to pieces. Mhm, mhmm! Let's toast to a life as a Feather!"

This. . . You have no idea how to respond to this. Their disheveled appearance, the utter disregard and even elation at the death of their co-workers, the manic nature of their rambling. . .

This is what you're meant to become? Chel and Dia too? End up like this. . . Or die? That can't be the case.

Yes, surely this is an abnormal outlier. You'll treat it like so, correspondingly. This off-putting person. . . You have no idea how to interact with them as a human, so you decide to fall back on what Chel had told you. Classifying things makes them simple to deal with.

Thus, it might be better to work with this agent how you would with an abnormality.

Day 1 - Decision IV:
What should you do?
  1. Fix their tie [Instinct]
  2. Drop off the report and leave [Insight]
  3. Ask their name [Attachment]
  4. Reprimand their behavior [Repression]
Votes tallied from the Forum and the Blog
4. Dare I wonder how this manic-natured agent might react? Alas, I dare. Insight gives way to curiousity. Regardless, the agent seems in need of calming down, and it's our duty, is it not, to keep that balance? They're abnormal, by our standards; we should treat them no differently than we'd treat an actual abnormality.


Trying your best to put on a professional face, you push back against the unpleasant feeling crawling up your back. Without dwelling too much on what you've just heard, you show off your top people-smile and inquire about the agent's name.

"Hmmh?" They hum, striking a pose and sticking out their tongue in a way you might describe as 'manically endearing.' "My name? Ehehe, it's Neesha. You're the first one to ask. Everyone else either avoids me or calls me honorifics, isn't that just rude? After I went through so much trouble to memorise their boring faces. . ."

Neesha eases their posture again, their head hanging in front of their neck. You can't help but notice a certain wistful frustration in their voice as they complain, as if not being approached or called by their name has actually touched them. Given their demeanor, however, you can't exactly tell how much of that is theatrical antics. Neesha's eyes stay fixated on yours—tracing them—not letting go.

"You're not like them, though. Your face is very memorable. Ehehe... It's those starry eyes, nobody in your department has eyes like yours. I enjoy watching them twinkle-twinkle, it's comforting. Hmmmh. . . Tell me your name! I want to know the name of those eyes."

Seeing no reason not to, you oblige, although your reduction to a mere pair of eyes is somewhat troubling. While you're at it, you also explain the nature of your visit and hand over the report. It's for the best to deal with the matter hastily, as Neesha is making you increasingly uneasy. They speak with a dose of malign innocence, the value of the world around them based purely on like or dislike. It's a selfish metric, one you cannot trust in a dangerous place. If, at the flip of a coin, they decide they don't like your eyes anymore... What then?

"For me? I've missed learning about new Abnormalities. They're so funny, wouldn't you say? Little bits of human fantasy. . . I know! Why don't I give you something in return? Come with."



Not bothering to wait for your response, Neesha waltzes past you and into the corridors. They hum a heavily discordant tune as they walk, swinging their arms to and fro. Dismayingly, they take the route you need to follow back to Control, leaving you with no choice but to follow. The awkwardness of standing still in their Main Room simply isn't worth it.

As you follow them, you finally notice the nakedness of Neesha's arm. More specifically, they aren't even wearing the armband of their department, a gross violation of the dress code from what you've read. Well, it's not like you're the type to report that sort of thing.

"We're here, ehe. Come inside. If you're scared, Neesha will hold your hand."

They stop in front of a Containment Room, haphazardly throwing its doors asunder and stepping inside. Now THIS is a violation of precudure if you've ever seen it. You don't get a chance to complain though, as they notice your hesitation and promptly drag you in without consent.



"Don't worry, unless we get closer, it won't think it's being suppressed. Ehehehe, even if it does, Neesha will protect you. I'm skilled at breaking Abnormalities, see?"

You can't believe this. In front of you, an unknown Abnormality clutches an enormous needle with its neck. It vaguely resembles a human being, its skin a disgusting oily color. Its body is long and contorted, and it only possesses one of each limb. Instead of a head, its neck extends endlessly, wrapping around the rusty sewing implement it props up with its spike-like arm. Rust drips from where its head should be, splattering on the floor like dirty water. In stark contrast to Campfire, this thing is downright revolting.

"Silly looking, isn't it? This is Rusty Needle, Info Team's current Abnormality. Ehehe, it wants to be my friend, you see? Just yesterday, it made sure my department started serving real coffee."

Your heart is racing. You really feel you shouldn't be here.



"Shhh. . . I told you not to worry."

As if sensing your rapidly growing anxiety, Neesha places their hand on top of your head. Gently, they stroke your hair, like you're a distressed puppy nervous about their veterinarian visit.

"You can trust Neesha. Just look into my eyes and calm down, or Noodle will get agitated."

Isn't that their fault in the first place? But. . . Noodle? The sheer absurdity of calling that monster 'Noodle' throws you off so much, you can't bring yourself to take this entire situation seriously anymore. No, maybe you should just resign yourself and hope Neesha knows what they're doing. Ultimately, you don't even know which of the two is more dangerous when agitated.



"Much better."

They give your hair one last rustle, before removing their hand. Sufficed to say, you're glad they've given up on the gesture.

"You see, Noodle doesn't know Agents and Abnormalities can't be friends. Who can blame it? It doesn't have a brain, ehe. But Neesha and Emilia can be friends. I'll work with Rusty Needle now, so I can give you a return gift for your report and for keeping me company. It'll be ready tomorrow, you'll see. But we can't see each other until then. You have to hurry to your department now, remember? Don't forget to visit again."

Saying this, Neesha begins nearing Rusty Needle. Not wanting to deal with the repercussions of staying still, you quickly evacuate the containment chamber and scuttle along the corridor, practically racing for the elevator back. Once you've boarded it, you exhale a massive sigh of relief. You're so getting into trouble with Management for this.



Upon your return to the Control Team Main Room, Chel and Dia greet you with their respective looks. Although Chel instantly begins chastising you for your tardiness, you're glad to be back. Under Dia's supervision, you spend the rest of the day learning about Control Team's duties, namely the monitoring of the facility and the plans of action during any type of crisis. During the training, you also visit Campfire a few more times.

It's nice and undemanding. All the new information helps you forget about what happened in the morning, and you don't mention it to anyone. Whenever you make a mistake, Dia giggles and reprimands you in a terrible imitation of Chel's voice, before explaining the proper solution in an easy-to-grasp way. They clearly enjoy teaching.

Then, after several hours, tired and spent, it's finally time to head back home. You pack up your suit and say your goodbyes, leaving the facility for the day. It was a strange first day at work, but at last you've grasped your bright future. The Nest is now your new home.

You giggle. Guess you're one step ahead of facing the fear?

Day 1 - Decision FINAL:
How will you spend your evening?
  1. In bed.
  2. Going for a drink
  3. Eating at the nearest HamHamPangPang
  4. Blindly wandering the Nest
Votes tallied from the Forum and the Blog

I don't think we're prepared for 4. It's no backstreets, but I don't want to get gooned.

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