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SCP 46591- Dennis Deacon of Woodbury, New Jersey


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Posted

Echohead

 

"Sp-split up?" said Echohead, his voice high pitched. "Well, ah, if you think its best?"

 

"You look like you can handle the computers. Your brain is so bright it hurts my eyes..."

 

This was true. Echohead couldn't recall seeing a brain so effervescent with intellect. At least on a human. 

 

"...I'll check the clothes. At least I know a little bit about clothes..." he smiled, thin lips, weak smile. He ran his fingers down the lapels of his cool black suit. Yes, it was stylish, or so he thought. And he reminded himself it was bullet proof and fire proof and hopefully a lot of other things proof to. Impervium weave had its uses. 

 

He gave a salute, trembling fingers touching sweaty brow, and then started off up the stairs. At least he wasn't in too bad shape...

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Posted

Predator

 

“Unfortunately, time is of the essence.”

Predator nodded at Echohead.

“I understand. Just be cautious, the clothes may be infectious as well. And do not hesitate to all for back up.”

She trusted him to be careful, he was an acknowledged agent that was called upon repeatedly. But, she had learned at an early age that people sometimes needed to be reminded verbally that their safety was- expected? Required? Encouraged? Hoped for?

She mentally shook her head. Physically, she turned her attention back to the nurse.

 

“I assure you, I will do my best to maintain patient confidentiality and system security.”

Predator tried to reassure the woman as she took up the seat in front of the computer.

Posted

(GM Post)

 

The two heroes quickly went about their work, attempting to find and gather clues regarding important locations of the dead man, Dennis Deacon! It was working fairly well; each was covering a different area, each finding out information on their own.


Everything was going perfectly, totally smoothly. In fact, you could say it was almost...too smooth.

 

Then, as Echohead was returning from examining the clothes, in the hallway, he found someone.

 

Late 30s. Orange Hair, green eyes. Wearing a copy of the clothes Echohead had just examined.

 

"...Who...who am I? Do you know!? Can you help me!?" asked Dennis Deacon, stumbling towards Echohead. Echohead could feel using his brain examinations that this was a clone that was close to perishing, the hivemind weakening. But if he was touched, it would replicate.

 

Posted

Echohead

 

"Eeeeps!" yelped Echohead, startled by the appearance of the Dennis. 

 

And I was being so quiet!

 

He honestly had been trying his best, but his palms were sweaty, his heart was pounding, his mouth was dry. His skin felt numb, or electrical, depending on which area at what time. Against all logic, he found himself imagining his internal organs were enganging in an all out war for territory, trying to rearange themselves. 

 

So, of course, when startled, his variable pistol slipped out of his hand, was accidentally kicked by his reflexive foot, and hurtled across the room, landing at precisely the wrong angle, and ended up with its barrel bent at ninety degrees. 

 

Ooops... I hope Predator can fix that....

 

"Yes..." he croaked. "I can... help you...."

 

How? HOW?

 

"Just stay very still. We dont want to cause any.. ah. upset..."

Posted (edited)

Predator

 

Predator’s mechanical fingers flew through menus and files. In little time she located the reports associated with the late Mr Deacon’s rescue and subsequent treatment.

 

It seemed like the doctors had done everything they could have for him, but his injuries had been too severe even before his arrival at the hospital. 

 

Nothing she could see gave any indication of what would happen once his life ended, nothing in physical or medical observations. Noone could have foreseen it.

 

She continued to dig, coordinates of the airlift point could prove a suitable starting point once they could properly attune the scanners. Also, if he had already been assigned a spot on the morgue it would hesitation their sea h for the body.

 

As a side thought, she began downloading all of Mr Deacon’s medical records she could find. They could prove important later.
 

She hoped Agent Echohead’s part of the mission was proceeding optimally.

Edited by Spacefurry
Posted

(GM Post)

 

Dennis Deacon stared at Echohead, then gripped his own head, groaning.

 

"I...I don't understand. What's happening. I don't want to die. You can understand why I don't want to die, right? All I asked was that I get to keep living. I just wanted to live. I don't know what's going on anymore. I don't...I don't know what to do anymore." his voice was distorted, almost whispering. "Please. Please. You have to help me..." he said, but at the very end it came out awkwardly, almost like mush, and before he could reach Echohead- as he had been distracted by Echohead's talking-, he collapsed. The brain functions of Dennis Deacon ceased to Echohead's mind thoughts, and the hivemind was flickering like a lightbulb about to go out. It wasn't moving anymore. He had escaped this situation.

 

Time to regroup and figure out where Dennis could have been.

Posted (edited)

Echohead

 

"Calm down... you won't die. Probably." 

 

Echohead gulped. His throat felt as harsh as a hornet hive. 

 

The man looked dead. So much for his promise. 

 

Echohead shook his head sadly. He didn't quite understand what was going on, but he understood enough to feel sad. Was it a dying hive mind, trying, frantically, to preserve itself? Some mutation? An alien? A human from another dimension? This was freedom city, so anything could happen. 

 

But his money was on some experimentation. 

 

"I promise I'll try to help," he said, soft, hoarse. "Thats a promise I can keep. To try."

 

With another shake of his head, he picked up the broken Variable gun, and made his way back to Predator to regroup. 

 

 

Edited by Supercape
Posted

Predator

 

The medical files, while an interesting read, did little to shade any light. Predator sat contemplating what she’d read as she waited for Echohead to return. She had sent a request for Agent Shine’s people to attempt to locate the air lift service that had brought in Mr Deacon. The data so far indicated transformations began with those in contact after his death, so she wasn’t but so concerned with the possibility of another vector point for the spread. But, she was hoping they could pinpoint the extraction point, and give them a starting point for their search.

 

Looking up as the Agent returned, she noted the elevated distress in his manners and stood.

“Did something happen?”

Predator asked.

“I can assume the barricades have not been overrun, since you are not running.”

Posted

Echohead

 

Echohead gulped. His throat was dry, his cheeks were red. 

 

"Running, no, should i be?"

 

He glanced behind him, to the sides. 

 

"I mean no I shouldn't be running. Barricades are probably intact. There is a fair chance will will not immediately be killed, right? A fair chance? Anyway, I ran into one of those clone things. And then he dropped down dead infront of me. After saying he didnt want to die, of all things. Ironic..."

 

He wiped his head, and held out his broken Variable Gun. The dingle arm was bent in twain, completely unable to stop side fumbling of the reverse tremie pipe. 

 

"I may have slipped and dropped this... ah... perhaps you could fix it?"

Posted

(GM Post)

 

"They're back in the hospital?" the charge nurse asked, frowning. "Should we leave? Maybe move up to the roof? We're really just trying to stay out of the way. We could barricade ourselves in further and hunker down I guess." she looked around, calculating how possible it was for her to move all these people around and comparing it to the difficulty of bunkering down more.

 

"...Err, and if you need parts, please, use whatever you can." she said, looking at the gun in concern. "You're our best helps for getting out of here, so if you need parts, let me know."

 

There was a beep in both Echohead and Predator's scanners. They were finished coordinating from this location; either they could break for the forest now, and try to navigate the area using their survival skills, or risk going to the center cell tower to get a definite place of where Dennis Deacon had encountered...whatever had done all of this.

Posted

Predator

 

Predator held up a reassuring hand.

“I’m sorry, my attempt at a touch of levity was unsuccessful.”

 

She paused when Echohead described his encounter with the Dennis.

“So he just died in front of you? Without any visible influence?”

One mechanical finger tapped the chin of her helmet.

“Perhaps there is a time limit, as it were. Something to do with the underlying condition of Mr. Deacon as he was when he arrived?”

Predator shook her head.

“Too many possible variables. Not enough solid data.”

 

She attempted to sound positive for the nurse as she took the damaged weapon from Echohead.

“I think you should be fine here. Just double check your barricades to be safe.”

She offered as she examined the pieces.

“A simple enough fix. The major components survived without harm. I should be able to repair the mechanical damage with what’s available.”

 

A few gathered pieces of hospital equipment and she was able to bring Echohead’s pistol back from its own minor death.

“Perhaps once this is over you would be willing to bring this to the lab. I would be fascinated to take a closer look at it.”

She held the pistol out to Echohead.

“Just so long as to promise not to explode.”

 

Before she could explain her comment, a subtle beep chimed in stereo from their scanners. Predator pulled hers and checked it. She nodded and looked to Echohead.

“The calibration here is finished. Shall we continue to the second location?”

Posted (edited)

Echohead

 

"Explode? No, I don't think it will explode. Unless it is meant to explode..." replied Echohead. "At least, it hasn't exploded yet. Do you think it will explode?"

 

He withdrew his sweaty hand from the gun. "G-g-g-guhn. Maybe it will explode in my hand?" he asked eyes dilated, hand suddenly gripped with psychogenic paralysis. "Look! My hand! I can't move it... I can't feel it... it's gone all droopy. What is it? A stroke? A can't use it at all. Do you think I need a head scan?"

 

He looked around the hospital. 

 

"This is a hospital, right? You can scan my head? Maybe it's a brain tumour? Maybe my psychic abilities have caused a brain tumour? What are the signs of a brain tumour? Sweating? Anxiety? Dry mouth?...."

 

He gargled his own phlegm and gripped his heart (with, it must be noted, both hands). "I think I am having a seizure. It must be the brain tumour! Help!"

Edited by Supercape
Posted

(GM Post)

 

"Uh, Mr...Echohead, you're having some issues?" The charge nurse said, approaching with concern. She looked him over, checking his temperature and his fingers. She wasn't in the best place for it, but she was relying on her training as best she could. "Oh, we've got something for this, actually. Here..." she went to one of the drawers and pulled out a syringe and some pills. "Here. Let me give you this shot and you take two of these pills now and two in the morning. It's a preventative tumor treatment, to prevent it from affecting you. Once you've taken the pills you'll feel better in about 15 minutes."


She looked over at Predator, unsure if she should even be doing this, but also relying on the heroes completely.

 

"Once we're done with this, we'll barricade up and be hoping for your success."

Posted

Echohead

 

Echohead greedily swallowed the pull. Unable to force them down his dry throat, he scrabbled around for water like a man on fire. Feverish fingers eventually located a glass of dihydrogen mono-oxide, and he swished the pills down to his gullet. 

 

A smile broadened his face almost instantly. His breathing slowed. 

 

"Thank God!" he gasped. "I can feel the tumour shrinking already! You are amazing! Best nurse ever!" he beamed. 

 

"Fit for duty, now," he added with a salute. He straightened his black jacket. "I'm not going to let a silly old brain tumour stop me from saving the world, right?"

 

He turned to Predator. "Lets go get 'em. I mean, er, whoever they are. Wait. We better find out what the hell is going on first. Lets go!"

Posted

Predator

 

Predator was thankful the nurse was present to help with Echohead’s panic attack. She herself was not very helpful in terms of social anxieties or mental stress. She had never been accused of being infallible in those departments. She had her own issues, she had just gotten better at suppressing them over the years.

 

As the nurse helped her comrade, Predator quickly set about repairing the weapon. The armored hero gave the nurse an approving nod when she looked at her inquisitively.

 

Echohead’s immediate reversal made her feel a little better, but she wanted to give him a chance to calm and refocus so she took her time with the weapon.

“Our next stop should be the broadcast tower.”

Predator said as she worked.

“Once we attune it, we should be able to triangulate the area where this truly started. From there, we will have to rely on the handheld units to hunt down the source of the outbreak.”

She was able to correct the bend in the barrel using her own blaster on a precise setting to realign it properly. She proceeded to inspect and secure the internal components that had come loose on impact before finally reassembling the pistol and holding it out to Echohead.

 

Predator nodded to the nurse again.

“Please remain safe, we will do everything in our power to bring this to an end.”

Jean hoped she sounded as sure about that as she was trying to project.

Posted

(GM Post)

 

As the pair reset and prepared for their next adventure, the nurse and her protected patients quickly re-barricaded the floor. They were in a tense situation, but they weren't giving up anytime soon; partially because the group had been invigorated by the appearance of two actual heroes- even if Echohead was a bit weird compared to what they were expecting-. So the Heroes had managed to do at least that in keeping their spirits up.

 

But next was getting to the radio tower. In the very center of town. Predator could continue to jump, carrying Echohead, but the amount of Dennis Deacons here was getting thick; there was a massive pile of them now, a swarm moving around the ruins of the town; every now and then, one of them collapsed and the others just moved on. Echohead could feel the second mind slowly dying as this happened. It was entirely possible that given enough time this would resolve itself. But 'possible' wasn't a good answer, and it wouldn't explain what was going on in the first place.

 

The Radio tower stood heavy in the center of the town, a single finger raised high above the burning buildings. Most of the power was completely off in this section of the city, leaving only the lights of flames. There weren't enough buildings to reach the tower, which was placed in the center of town next to city hall; across a green where there had once been picnics and families enjoying their lives but what was now nothing but dangerous open ground.

Posted

Echohead

 

"Hold up...  hold up..." said Echohead, fighting the nausea. All the jumping!

 

"There's too many of them. We will never get through," he said, holding on to his stomach and fighting the bile. 

 

"Unless you have some stealth field or something, we aren't going to get through. We need some distraction, a  big boom, or a giant clown made of balloons."

 

He looked over the top of the building. 

 

"Or, we just make a run for it. Get a car, put the pedal to the metal, and just try to outrun the damn thing. Maybe a truck, or a tank..."

 

He tapped his temple. "With your permission, I can copy your brain. You are a tech-head, right? So I can make sure I copy your amazing driving skills!"

Posted (edited)

Predator

 

Predator studied the maps on her display and furrowed her brows as she calculated possible trajectories of approach. None of them were ideal.

 

She glanced at Echohead and gave him a small nod.

“Duly noted. You’re in luck, the tower we need to reach is more isolated from the surrounding buildings. We’ll need an alternate avenue of approach.

The helmeted figure scanned the surroundings for possible strategic options. 

 

Predator coughed in slight embarrassment.

“I’m… I’m afraid driving… is not one of my strongest skills.”

She waved dismissively.

“Mind you, I am educated in the basic principles and the working fundamentals. I am capable of driving, but I’m afraid I would not be participating in any extracurricular racing or such.”

 

“There.”

She pointed a mechanical finger at her suggestion. An ambulance, sitting forgotten near the emergency room entrance.

“If you can drive, I can attempt to ready the scanners before we arrive. That way we will not have to stay in the open as long.”

Edited by Spacefurry
Posted

Echohead

 

"Dang," said Echohead, muttering about the ill fate. "Well, driving an ambulance can't be too hard, can it? I mean, you turn the wheel and do stuff. Probably. That's all there is, right?"

 

Echohead glanced at the Ambulance. 

 

"It looks solid enough. I guess Ambulances have to be pretty solid? They need to work in disaster zones, right?"

 

He swallowed. Of course, he could drive. He could drive his van through the streets of Freedom City to pick good and deliver flowers. But he didn't like driving, and he never had to drive through a zombie horde. Or drive an ambulance."

 

"I'll do my best, anyway. Lets go!"

Posted (edited)

(GM Post)

 

KER-CHUNK

 

GGRRRRRRR

 

WEE-OOOH WEEE-OOOH

 

Then the ambulance took off with a lurch, backwards at first, then forward, leaving a dent in the back door and the bumper and license plate behind.

 

The Dennis Deacons noticed it immediately, and lurched forward. The cries were loud and aggressive. They were too terrible to mention, too sad to note. They did not want this, and Echohead could hear their brains, or what was above it, pulling the strings. Surely this was reversible if they could simply find the cause. But they needed to figure it out.

 

Which became a lot more difficult when Echohead hit a bench, then a light pole, sending the ambulance careening into a shin-high brick wall that let out a loud crunch as the ambulance stalled out and gave up.

 

The pair were near the tower now; they just needed to get there; a few more steps, a few seconds of calibration.

 

The only problem were the Dennis Deacons, following behind. Asking for help, not realizing they were the danger that people needed help from.

Edited by Poncho
Posted (edited)

Echohead

 

"Porca Vacca!" said Echohead, wrestling with the clutch. He was an excellent wrestler, completely destroying his opponent. The clutch gasped and whined in abject defeat, sending ominous rumblings through the engine. 

 

With the final crunch into the wall, the ambulance was gone. 

 

"Ah! I tried!" said Echohead, lamenting his failure. He was not an angry man by nature, but he still punched the dashboard with both hands. 

 

"I hope you brought your Predator zombie-repellant spray. Looks like we might need it," he said, looking into the shattered remains of the wing mirror, and seeing the army of Deacons lumbering towards them. 

 

"Or have you got anything else we can use?"

 

He glanced down to the Variable Gun in his lap. "Maybe I can dazzle them... some of them...."

Edited by Supercape
Posted

Predator

 

In the back of the ambulance Predator did her best to focus on the scanners. It wasn’t easy with the vehicle seemingly bouncing around like what a pinball must feel like inside its cabinet.

 

She couldn’t hold it against Echohead. It was her understanding that something like an ambulance drove differently from a typical car. Also, there were other outstanding obstacles to consider. All things considered, as long as they made it to the tower in one piece it was acceptable.

 

Echohead announced their arrival as the vehicle came to a stop and she tried to reassure him.

“Excellent work.”

 

She glanced out the windows in the back doors.

“Hmm.”

The armored hero sounded undisturbed by the looming hoard.

“The scanners should be ready to attune. If you need to copy my skills again, now is the time.”

She collected them up and handed them to Echohead.

“I will cover you.”

The mechanical fingers on her gauntlets retracted and the barrels set in the palms opened, a dim glow rising from inside them.

Posted

Echohead

 

Echohead touched his temples (an act more for ritualistic purposes than any requirement) with the tips of his little fingers and, with a moment of concentration and the slight bulge of veins in his forehad, a copy of Predator's brain manifested in his own. 

 

With an intelligence as powerful as Predator's, his own cranium felt crowded. He could feel a grumbling, pulsatile headache forming. 

 

"What do you feed your brain on? Steroids?" he asked, taking a step back, reeling from the psychic impact. 

 

In a moment, he shook his head back to orientation. "Leave these scanner things to me. I guess you have a missile laucher or quantum drawn reciprocating dingle arm powered by a layer of prefamulated amulite set in semi-boloid laminar plating?"

 

The new scientific concepts swirled and frothed in his brain like an steaming cup of coffee. 

 

"I mean... I hope you have some crowd control armaments?"

Posted

Predator

 

The armored helmet tilted in Echohead’s direction, the front sliding up like a visor. She gave the human agent a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She chuckles.

“I do miss my railguns.”

She says with complete seriousness, and somehow Echohead knows she isn’t joking about it. 

 

Vague ideas (or are they memories?) of schematics for shoulder-mounted mini-railguns flicker across Echohead’s thoughts for a moment. If he had the time and parts it would be child’s play… even with these things humans call fingers.

 

Predator turns her attention to the horde of Dennis’ and the plates across the ‘back of the hands’ on her gauntlets snap down into place and begin glowing faintly.

 

Echohead recognizes the Knuckle Dusters being activated from some unspoken pompt. More details flicker through his thoughts, ideas of charged energy cells releasing focused shockwaves. Something that he's sure his pistol could do with just a few tweaks.

A face, an older man of doberman descent, grins fatherly-like with a mouth of sharp canines...

Robert

The name carries a pain of loss…

And then the memory is gone, leaving a strong mantra to 'Finish the mission'.

 

Predator leaps up on top of the ambulance to give herself a small advantage while she can. 

“Cynthia, adjust KDs for civilian targets.”

“Yes, ma’am. Charged force emitters adjusted for use against threat level zero targets.”

Rangefinders count down as she watches the masses. A line is crossed and the armored hero strikes out, her fist punching the air in front of her. A wave of charged force explodes from an invisible point mere centimeters in front of her fist. The cone of force slamming into the on rushing Dennis’.

 

Meanwhile the copy in Echohead's mind keeps pointing out ways the scanners could be improved.

Range amplifiers... targeting sequencers... if only there was time and resources.

Posted

Echohead

 

Echohead nodded at the copy of Predator in his skull. The information! It was enough to make his temples pulse. A whirlwind of ideas and concepts. He had to concentrate - pull back the alien intelligence into some laser-focus - a focus he could actually use. 

 

"Stupid human fingers..." he muttered. Or perhaps the echo in his head did. Human fingers didn't meld well with Predator's brain, but he could calibrate. Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he started to work on the sensors. 

 

Quick work - even Echohead marvelled at how proficient Predator was. It was like gliding over ice on skates. 

 

Not that he could skate. But that was still how it felt. 

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