PARALLAX, Session 2: Pariah

Scene setup

Expectations
Something unnatural emerges from the autopsy. Tattoo has moved to the paramedic?

Expected scene test roll
[D10]: [5] => altered scene

Scene adjustment roll: Add a character
Character identity roll: Protector + Public
My interpretation: A delta green agent shows up shortly after the autopsy

Character background: Care + Heroic => A U.S. Marine combat medic
Character Appearance: Different + Exotic => A huge Samoan woman
Character Motivation: Conflict + Pursue => Asks that I give up the body, or she will be very pissed.

Wednesday, October 12th, 1995. 10:02 a.m.

I prepare to begin the autopsy. As I position the blade for the Y-incision, something stops me cold. On the left forearm, there is a strange tattoo: a fish-human hybrid clutching something in its webbed hands.

I freeze. My mind races back to the briefing. Didn't Jo say the girl had that tattoo? What are the odds of Baptiste having the exact same ink? Close to zero.

I lean in for a closer look.

Fate Question (Very Likely): Do I see something unnatural about the tattoo?
Answer: Yes.
Element Meaning (Sensory, Vision & Dreams): Colorful + Suffering
Interpretation: The tattoo shifts and changes color. It causes severe cranial pressure if observed for too long.

The ink begins to shift before my eyes, pulsing with colors not of this world—hues my mind cannot categorize or accept. A jagged spike of pain lances through my skull. I jerk my head away, gasping. A thick drop of blood hits the floor, followed by another. My left nostril is bleeding. I press a paper towel to my face, my heart hammering against my ribs.

What the hell just happened?

First contact with the unnatural: Sanity Check (0/2)
[D100]: [66] => Critical Success! (No Sanity loss)

Get it together, Lawrence. Breathe. Think. There has to be a clinical explanation. A chemical reaction? A visual migraine?

The heavy thud of footsteps echoes from the corridor. The morgue door swings open, and a woman steps in who seems to command the very air in the room. She’s a powerhouse—maybe 6’4”, clearly samoan, with arms like corded oak. She’s wearing a U.S. Marines combat medic uniform, her name tag torn away.

Woman: "Hello there. Call me Pariah. You the one cutting the bodies today?"

I stare at her, the bloody towel still pressed to my nose. She doesn't wait for an answer. She looks down at Baptiste, spots the tattoo, then looks at the blood on my hand. She sighs, a sound of heavy weariness.

Pariah: "Seems I got here too late."

Lawrence: "What… what is going on here?"

Pariah: "I’m taking the body, Dr. Bartolini. The autopsy is being moved to a secure facility. This is a matter of national security."

Lawrence: "National security? What kind of nonsense is that? Get out of here—you have no jurisdiction in this morgue!"

She sighs again, stepping closer.

Pariah: "Listen to me carefully, Lawrence. Am I right in assuming you just witnessed something... a bit out of the ordinary? And you’re talking to me about jurisdiction? You’re in over your head. You can't handle what’s on that table."

Lawrence: "Get out, or I’ll have you detained!"

She goes perfectly still, her eyes locking onto mine with a predatory intensity.

Pariah: "Okay. We got off on the wrong foot. My mistake. I apologize. Let’s reset. Lawrence, believe it or not, I’m here to help. You just took a massive risk even looking at that thing. You could have been killed—or worse."

Lawrence: "Worse? What does that even mean?"

Pariah: "That tattoo? It’s a contagion. It’s a threat you aren't equipped to diagnose, let alone treat. Hell, I don’t even know if I can deal with it, but at least I know what I’m looking at."

Lawrence: "Dangerous how? Some kind of infectious disease?"

Pariah: "That’s... not entirely wrong. But I can't tell you more."

Lawrence: "Bullshit."

Pariah: "Lawrence, did you touch it?"

Lawrence: "No."

Pariah: "And yet, your nose is pouring blood. How do you explain that?"

Lawrence: "Some kind of airborne... caustic..."

Pariah: "Now I’m calling bullshit. What color was the ink, Lawrence?"

Lawrence: "I… I don’t know. I can’t—"

Just the attempt to recall the color brings that white-hot spike of pain back to my brain. My knees buckle, and I crumble to the floor.

Pariah: "What you experienced is unnatural. You can’t explain it because there is no logical framework for it. Accept that. It’s the only way you stay sane."

Lawrence: "I can't... I won't accept that."

She pauses, watching me struggle.

Pariah: "Just as I expected. We’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while, Lawrence. I belong to an organization created to fight this specific brand of hell. We might have a use for a man with your skills—if you’re up to it. Are you? As your grandfather was?"

Lawrence: "WHAT? What did you just say about my grandfather?"

Pariah: "Consider this a loyalty test. If you want the truth, bury this. Tell your superiors the body was never delivered. Make it disappear. If you do, I’ll consider it a gesture of good faith and contact you again. Keep your eyes open for a green triangle."

Lawrence: "And if I don't?"

Pariah: "Then you’ll never hear from me again. But either way... I’m taking the body."

Before I can react, her arm is around my throat. It’s a professional sleeper hold—perfectly applied. The world fades to black in seconds.

When I wake up, the gurney is empty. The body is gone.

Scene Bookkeping

Chaos factor: +1 => 6

Characters list

1. jo munton
2. tattoed girl
3. Jackie LaRoux
4. Frankie Baptiste
5. Pariah

Threads list

1. Frankie Baptiste body
2. Secret organization