PARALLAX, Session 4: Contact

Scene setup

Expectations: Lawrence goes back to his normal life but is contacted by delta green after a few days.
Expected scene test roll: Interrupt scene
Event focus roll: PC positive
My interpretation: Jo trusts Lawrence on the body disappearence

I try to settle back into the rhythm of my old life. Work, quiet evenings with Sally, and the rhythmic purring of Akira.

A few days later, I'm sitting across from Jo at a cramped table, the air thick with the smell of frying grease.

Jo (biting into a po-boy): "Shit, Law. My arteries are clogging just from the scent of this thing."

Lawrence: "Shut up and eat. Doctor's orders."

After a few minutes of quiet chewing, Jo’s expression shifts to something more somber.

Jo: "The shitstorm is finally starting to settle. Henry, the morgue guard? He’s taking the fall. Poor bastard's being hung out to dry."

Lawrence: "Did he really fall asleep on duty?"

Jo: "So they say. It’s odd, honestly, but he’s been having a hell of a time at home—sleepless nights. I feel for the man."

Lawrence: "Yeah. Me too. But there’s nothing we can do."

Back at my office, I find a newspaper on my desk that I don’t remember placing there. It’s folded open to the local events page. A fundraiser at Big Charity Hospital tomorrow. Circling the time of the event is a hand-drawn triangle, rendered in dark green ink.

My hand shakes so violently I have to drop the paper. I scan the hallway, but I’m alone. The contact I’ve been waiting for has arrived.

The following evening, I lie to Sally. I tell her the Chief requested my presence at the fundraiser—a "bit of truth in every lie," as the saying goes. But as I walk out the door, the guilt feels like a lead weight in my stomach. I never lie to her. Ever.

The hospital conference room is packed with the New Orleans elite. I feel out of place until I spot her. Pariah. She’s impossible to miss, even in this crowd. She locks eyes with me, then tilts her head toward the far exit. I follow.

Outside, she’s leaning against a military jeep. She gestures for me to hop in.

Pariah: "Hello, Lawrence. You did your homework. Good. Now, be a good boy and put this on."

She hands me a heavy black cloth bag.

Lawrence: "What the hell is this?"

Pariah: "Come on, Lawrence. Don’t start making a fuss when you’re this close to the truth."

I pull the bag over my head with a sigh. We drive for forty-five minutes. Most of it is highway speed, but the last twenty are spent bouncing over rough, unpaved terrain. I’m completely turned around.

When the car stops, she leads me through several doors. I hear the distinct chirp of electronic badge readers. Finally, the bag is yanked away.

We’re in a nondescript briefing room—whiteboard, projector, a few folding chairs.

Fate Question (Likely modifier): Is there anyone else with us?
Answer: No.

Pariah: "Sorry for the theatrics. I’m sure you understand."

Lawrence: "I don’t, actually."

A smirk flickers across her face.

Pariah: "So, you want in. Good."

Lawrence: "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I want to know what’s going on. Maybe start with my grandfather?"

Fate Question (Likely modifier): Was Lorenzo part of Delta Green?
Answer: Yes.

Pariah: "Your grandfather was one of us. One of the first, to be honest."

Lawrence: "So your organization hasn't been around that long?"

Pariah: "The United States government has been aware of the Unnatural since 1928. That's when The Program started.""

Lawrence: "The 'Unnatural'?"

Pariah: "Things that exist beyond the perimeter of human understanding."

Lawrence: "That’s incredibly vague."

Pariah: "And it’ll stay that way for now—for the sake of your sanity. Let’s just say that in 1928, events occurred that forced the government to acknowledge beings whose existence defies every physical law we know. It led to a very cold understanding: humanity’s place in the universe is far more fragile than we care to admit."

She pauses to let the weight of that settle. I feel like laughing in her face, and she sees it in my eyes.

Pariah: "I know. You think this is a load of bollocks. Usually, we give the talk, then we throw recruits into the field so they can see the truth for themselves. How do you feel about that?"

Lawrence: "What kind of 'action' are we talking about?"

Pariah: "The tattoo."

Lawrence: "Of course. What was that thing?"

Fate Question: Was the tattoo an interdimensional parasite?
Answer: Yes.

Pariah: "It’s a living thing. A parasite, to be precise. Upon contact, it completely rewrites the host's perception of reality. We need to know how it transmits and, more importantly, how to kill it."

Lawrence: "But... the color I saw..."

Pariah: "Ah, yes. That. You see, the parasite is a hyper-geometrical entity. It exists in more dimensions than the four we perceive. That color is just a 4D projection of a higher-dimensional body. Think of it like a 2D drawing of a cube on a piece of paper—it’s just a shadow of the real thing. Our brains aren't wired to see the whole iceberg. And frankly, that's a mercy. If you saw it all, you'd never stop screaming."

I feel the blood drain from my face. My stomach churns.

Lawrence: "I think I’m going to puke."

Pariah: "Bathrooms are that way. Just in case."

Lawrence: "Did my grandfather have to deal with... this?"

Pariah: "He dealt with plenty of shit, Lawrence. Just not this specific brand of it."

Lawrence: "What did he fight?"

Pariah: "That’s a story for another time. You’ve got enough on your plate."

Lawrence: "So, how do we stop it?"

Pariah: "We? You’re sure about that?"

Lawrence: "It just came out. But I suppose there’s no turning back now. If only to prove you aren't pulling my leg... because I still don’t believe half of this."

Pariah: "That’s a healthy, sane reaction. Stay that way. This talk is just to help you keep your head when the Unnatural comes knocking on your door. Because if you join us, Lawrence, you’re the one who’s going to be doing the knocking."

Lawrence: "Well, shit."

Pariah: "Shit indeed. One more thing—this goes without saying, but you cannot speak of this to anyone. Not your wife, not your detective friend, not even the cat. You understand?"

I nod, a chill running down my spine. The fact that she knows I talk to Akira is the most unsettling part of this entire evening.

Lawrence: "So, what happens now?"

Pariah: "Now, you pick a codename. Then you wait. We’ll contact you when the rest of the team is ready."

Scene bookkeeping

Chaos factor: unchanged = 6