mother of sorrows
ππππ’ππ ππ£π πππ€ππ ππ π‘βπ π€πππ.
I need someone that knows they deserve to suffer.
β·
RED HERRING.
CASSANDRA: All this way you have led me. To destroy me again?
Aeschylus, Agamemnon.
Aeschylus, Agamemnon.
INTRO.
Β© pasta
A recording plays. On it's worn surface, there is a title; INTERVIEW. 0825
[The sound of paper shuffling, a chair being dragged closer. A man clears his throat.]
[He begins to talk.]
''13th of February, 2 P.M. Here we have one mrs. Diane Sudworth. Sudworth, I pronounced that right?''
[A female voice replies. It sounds plasticy.]
''That's right.''
''Okay, great.''
[The scribbling of a pen across paper.]
''So, mrs. Sudworth. I mean, first things first, I'm sure you expected this question. The whole United States is asking themselves; what is next for the Vargas Corporation? You've started to move into the biochemical sector.''
''We have, yes. It felt like a natural progression from our medical branches. We wanted to broaden our horizons, so to speak. There was a need to become more -''
[Static. Voices come in and out of hearing, torn apart by corrupted tape. You never hear the end.]
''Right. So, is that in any way related to Vargas' recent purchase of Stantly Laboratories?''
''Well, everyone needs a start somewhere. Stantly Laboratories were our partners for over five years, so it would be a good foundation.''
''I agree. And what about the bodies?''
[Silence.]
''Excuse me?''
''I asked, what about the bodies?''
[Worse silence.]
''What bodies?''
He should have never came here.
The broken glass is tearing his stomach to ribbons. Stale vomit clings to his collar, caked all up to his chin. His skin is swollen with cold sweat and he has to rub his face, his eyes stinging from it. His lungs burn from how hard his heart is beating. The darkness eats. He swallows, tears drying on his grimy cheeks, blood and dirt and whatever the fuck he's picked up in his fall.
Above him, on the slaughterhouse catwalk, the metal creaks.
The man inches over the gravel, keeping his breathing steady. Desperately.
His camera beeps a handful of feet away, crushed like bone. The casing is spilled over the gravel in a violent burst.
All the evidence is on it. He can't leave without it.
Behind him the stairs groan.
That man does not make it out alive.
[An email that will never reach you.]
''You don't know me, but I hope to God you take this seriously.
I have to make this quick. I worked at Vargas Corporation. A single year and I couldn't keep quiet for longer. I've seen things I can't believe. Forget HR lawsuits, forget NDAs, forget damn goverment investigations. If this breaks out, it would be the scandal of the century.
They're doing something to the people here. I don't know what. I had co-workers disappear. I didn't dare ask why. They have protocols, buildings off the record. I heard talks about security levels.
And there's this project.''
You are a journalist. For better or worse, you are also a proficient one.
You have exposed political affairs, financial crime of apocalyptic proportions, murders, secrets that the news wouldn't dare touch. You have faced lawsuits that could have crushed you and everyone you love into dust. You've had your car tires cut. There are people that would pay to have you killed.
There is a group of you; journalists. Friends.
You have decided to take on the case of Vargas Corporation, a conglomerate based in the US and North Europe that has its hands stuck in medicine, research funding and pharmaceuticals. They are a giant backed by business school graduates and shark-toothed legal teams. Even through it's bleached repuation, some rumors fall out - of corruption, illegal firing, lobbying.
You could never let a story rest. You want the truth - and you will get it.
You will.
But maybe it will not be worth it, this time.
Hello, hi! Welcome to Red Herring, a horror/thriller roleplay inspired by Lady Vengeance, Martyrs, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and most of all - Outlast. The story will follow a group of journalist as they try to uncover the story behind a suspicious corporation, only to find something far worse. The pacing is going to be a mix of slower investigation and action where they will face actual threats. If you are interested, please read the rules below!
[The sound of paper shuffling, a chair being dragged closer. A man clears his throat.]
[He begins to talk.]
''13th of February, 2 P.M. Here we have one mrs. Diane Sudworth. Sudworth, I pronounced that right?''
[A female voice replies. It sounds plasticy.]
''That's right.''
''Okay, great.''
[The scribbling of a pen across paper.]
''So, mrs. Sudworth. I mean, first things first, I'm sure you expected this question. The whole United States is asking themselves; what is next for the Vargas Corporation? You've started to move into the biochemical sector.''
''We have, yes. It felt like a natural progression from our medical branches. We wanted to broaden our horizons, so to speak. There was a need to become more -''
[Static. Voices come in and out of hearing, torn apart by corrupted tape. You never hear the end.]
''Right. So, is that in any way related to Vargas' recent purchase of Stantly Laboratories?''
''Well, everyone needs a start somewhere. Stantly Laboratories were our partners for over five years, so it would be a good foundation.''
''I agree. And what about the bodies?''
[Silence.]
''Excuse me?''
''I asked, what about the bodies?''
[Worse silence.]
''What bodies?''
O
He should have never came here.
The broken glass is tearing his stomach to ribbons. Stale vomit clings to his collar, caked all up to his chin. His skin is swollen with cold sweat and he has to rub his face, his eyes stinging from it. His lungs burn from how hard his heart is beating. The darkness eats. He swallows, tears drying on his grimy cheeks, blood and dirt and whatever the fuck he's picked up in his fall.
Above him, on the slaughterhouse catwalk, the metal creaks.
The man inches over the gravel, keeping his breathing steady. Desperately.
His camera beeps a handful of feet away, crushed like bone. The casing is spilled over the gravel in a violent burst.
All the evidence is on it. He can't leave without it.
Behind him the stairs groan.
O
That man does not make it out alive.
O
[An email that will never reach you.]
''You don't know me, but I hope to God you take this seriously.
I have to make this quick. I worked at Vargas Corporation. A single year and I couldn't keep quiet for longer. I've seen things I can't believe. Forget HR lawsuits, forget NDAs, forget damn goverment investigations. If this breaks out, it would be the scandal of the century.
They're doing something to the people here. I don't know what. I had co-workers disappear. I didn't dare ask why. They have protocols, buildings off the record. I heard talks about security levels.
And there's this project.''
O
You are a journalist. For better or worse, you are also a proficient one.
You have exposed political affairs, financial crime of apocalyptic proportions, murders, secrets that the news wouldn't dare touch. You have faced lawsuits that could have crushed you and everyone you love into dust. You've had your car tires cut. There are people that would pay to have you killed.
There is a group of you; journalists. Friends.
You have decided to take on the case of Vargas Corporation, a conglomerate based in the US and North Europe that has its hands stuck in medicine, research funding and pharmaceuticals. They are a giant backed by business school graduates and shark-toothed legal teams. Even through it's bleached repuation, some rumors fall out - of corruption, illegal firing, lobbying.
You could never let a story rest. You want the truth - and you will get it.
You will.
But maybe it will not be worth it, this time.
O
Hello, hi! Welcome to Red Herring, a horror/thriller roleplay inspired by Lady Vengeance, Martyrs, Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and most of all - Outlast. The story will follow a group of journalist as they try to uncover the story behind a suspicious corporation, only to find something far worse. The pacing is going to be a mix of slower investigation and action where they will face actual threats. If you are interested, please read the rules below!
- This is a horror roleplay, so please keep in mind there will be gore and that your characters will sometimes fail. Still, this won't be as brutal as the inspiration, obviously - but please keep this in mind and tell me if you have any triggers!
- Please be 18+ and have Discord! OOC chat will happen there.
- Post expectactions are around 2-3 paragraphs! It depends on the dialogue and action, so I'm not super strict about it.
- Be able to post once per week or bi-weekly, please! I get if life comes in the way, though.
- Please. I am begging.
Please don't join if you know you are likely to ghost/have no time. No grudges, I just don't want this to die aaa. - Faceclaims can be realistic or you can use a description!
which is a shame because i loved the vibes
