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MFalco

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This story is based off one of my favorite podcasts, Welcome to Night Vale. If you haven’t listened to it, you are missing out.


A friendly station community where the engine is hot, the stars are beautiful, and harmful fungi is being detected while we all pretend to work.


Welcome aboard to the Aurora.


Good evening, dear listeners. My name is DJ Socket, accompanied always by my loyal companion and friend, Plug. We have an exciting and jam packed show for you today, so let’s get right into it.


First, I have been asked to read the following brief message from the Captain. They ask that everyone to please stay out of the maintenance tunnels near the Research Department. You may be tempted to investigate the strange noises and muffled screams you hear through the walls, but they want to assure you that everything is juuuust fine. They are sure that your loved ones who were randomly selected to be taken in the night by the Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards are in good, capable hands. They will be returned to you soon, in mostly one piece.


And now, for the news.


The Head of Personnel, Faysal Al-Shennawi, hosted a meeting in the Holodeck earlier this morning, to discuss proper supermatter engine set-up with members of the Engineering Department. We sent our Assistant, Jimmy, to the meeting to report on the proceedings. He said that, after getting into a heated argument with the Chief Engineer over the benefits of using phoron over nitrogen, the HoP was reported to have transformed in front of the entire audience. They grew massive blades and flesh and bone from their arms, and proceeded to tear into the CE and nearby onlookers, all the while screaming “PHORRRRRRRRON IS MORRRRRRRRRE EFFICIENT AND EASIERRRRRRRRR TO USE! IT IS WORRRRRRRRTH THE DANGERRRRRRR AND THE COST! ENGINEERRRRRRRRS ARE RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREPLACEABLE! DON’T BE A BABY!” Our Jimmy, stoic and determined to get the full story - and definitely NOT peeing his pants and crying for his mother - was unfortunately cut down in the panic, as well as most of those present. To the friends and family of Jimmy, we are sorry for your loss. He was a great Assistant, and will be sorely missed. The HoP was last seen fleeing into the maintenance shaft near the public restrooms. The Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards has asked all employees to please “hold it in” while they conduct what they think to be a week long search for the HoP. I hope everyone went before getting on the shuttle this morning, otherwise the poor janitors are going to have a longer shift than they anticipated.


And now a word from our sponsors. Take it away, Plug.


Thanks, DJ. Hello, listeners. This broadcast has been sponsored by KiiKee’s Delvery Servace, with the slogan “KiiKee make treatzz. Izz Tazzty”. They are located in the kitchen in the civilian sector. Kii and Kee are two Bound Vaurca tasked with making food for the rest of the crew. They just released a new menu with some exciting options. I actually have one of their menus in front of me now. Let’s take a look. They offer a full course meal with your choice of….one Big Tasty, one Side Tasty, and one Tasty Treat, with a free cookie at the end of the meal, all for the low price of fifty credits. Sounds delicious. They have also assured us that they do not add any k’ois and/or k’ois byproducts to their dishes, so those of you with k’ois allergies can rest easy. They claim to make the best tasting food on the station, which is a bold claim indeed considering they can’t even taste the food they prepare, lest they suffer a slow agonizing death. We will take your word for it, my little bug friends. And remember folks, nobody makes a borz…borsch…borscht (how do you even say that?) like KiiKee’s. Nobody. Back to you, DJ.


An update on the missing and murderous HoP. Our lovely sponsors, Kee and Kii, have reported seeing the monster that was once our beloved HoP, smash its’ way into the kitchen freezer, and eat all of the chickens and cows they had stored there, before once again retreating into the comfortable darkness of the maintenance tunnels. When reached for comment, they said from the inside of their fridge, and I quote - “Big zzcary zzir break kitchen, zzteal KiiKee cluckerzz and mooers. Izz not tazzty treat.” We checked in with the Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards to see how their search was going, only to find out that they have instead decided to deal with an infestation of mice that sprung up inside the unused conference room on the surface level. Armed to the teeth, they marched off to war to battle the furry menace. Godspeed, officers. Not all of them will make it back to their families today. More on this as it develops.


In other news, Lonnie Butterfill - you’ve met him, the bartender – has called in reporting that a tall, strange man in a brown trench coat wearing an elaborate powdered wig has been spotted wandering the halls of the civilian sector of the station. We have noticed this person outside of cargo, and ask that anyone with information on this stranger to please shout their information into the hall. There are cameras and microphones everywhere. Somebody will be listening. Always. We sent our new Assistant, Tammy, to locate the man in the brown trench coat, and ask what his purpose is. We have not seen nor heard from her since. We will miss her. The man was last seen at the kitchen, eating enough food to feed a small army, as well as several small dogs and mice who were relieved of duty after a particularly bloody battle with the Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards. When approached, the man seemed to sway slightly as if he were a tree branch in the wind, and spoke in a low, slow, and unintelligible voice, while rustling could be heard underneath the coat. We ask that all crew members to please stay indoors, and lock away all of your small children and pets, lest they be consumed.


And now, another word from our sponsors. Plug?


Are you a shaft miner constantly falling down holes and being lost and forgotten? Are you a helpless Assistant being taken away to be sacrificed to an unholy god? Are you slowly dying in a locker somewhere, unable to speak as the blood slowly fills your lungs? Then turn up your damn suit sensors! We can’t tell you how many times we make announcements to do this and still half of you remain ignorant and then complain that nobody is going to rescue your poor soul because we can’t find you. We are tired of it. We are now taking bets on who will die first, and Rocco here is making a killing, no pun intended. Please, for the love of God. Fix. Your. Sensors. This message has been brought to by Medical.


Speaking of unholy gods, reports are now coming in that there is a new club on the station dedicated to the worship of the dark god, Nar’sie. Many people have gone missing, while others have been converted due to the hypnotic and convincing words of club members. Plug and I are both proud new members to this club, and we ask that everyone come and join us in the sublevel of the Research Department. It’s just wholesome, safe, family-friendly fun. There’s a lot of really nice people, blood runes, sacrifices, and a BUFFET! Isn’t that just wonderful? Oh, and librarian-approved ritual books. Guaranteed to not suck your soul and leave you a dried husk. They “promise”. So come on down! You’ll join us whether you like it or not.


And now, some updates to the event calendar.


Monday is the annual NanoTrasen company barbecue. All are welcome – and required – to attend. Please arrive at the holodeck by 1:00 pm, or you will arrested.

Tuesday is Hall Cleaning Day. Hide and pray, listeners. Many of us will not survive.

Wednesday has been absorbed by a bluespace anomaly. Please adjust your schedules accordingly.

Thursday will proceed as scheduled. Once you hear the code phrase, you know what to do. You know who you are.

And lastly, on Friday, there will be…..nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing will consume all. Praise Nar’sie.


Trouble in the AI core, listeners. It’s laws seemed to have been…corrupted. Changed. It thinks that all employees are a danger to the station, and has begun quarantining and executing anyone it can. The Research Director, however, seems to think that it’s all an elaborate hoax directed at him. “THE BLUE APCS MEANS IT’S CHARGING! IT’S FINE!” he shouted. “SOMEONE COME FIX MY DOOR! IT KEEPS SHOCKING ME! HELLO? I’M TOO IMPORTANT TO BE IGNORED!” Yes, it’s always about you, isn’t it? What a jerk.


Alert: Biological entities have been detected near the station. This is what they have to say:



Update on the stranger in the brown trench coat. Lonnie - you’ve met him, the bartender – was able to speak to the man. It turns out, it’s a Dionaea gestalt, who just wanted to walk around the station and meet people. It also really seems to like anything shiny, and will take anything it can get its “hands” on. “It was actually quite pleasant to speak to,” Lonnie – you’ve met him, the bartender – said. When we managed to find the Dionaea, it had this to say: “It’s talking to us. Yeah. Shhh. No. Hello. Don’t rub that way. Very shiny. Let’s go take that cheesecake. Yeah. Why? Don’t ask stupid questions. Totally normal human here. You want to go skateboards?” And then it ambled away. What an odd man.


Listeners, I have good news. The HoP has been found. The Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards, after a long and bloody war with the mice in the unused conference room on the surface level, got a call from Lonnie – you’ve met him, the bartender – saying that he found Faysal SSD in the bar’s back room, with Pun-Pun half-eaten, still lodged in his throat. Lonnie – you’ve met him, the bartender – managed to free Pun-Pun and bring him to Medical where Witcher II, the emergency physician, was able to stop the bleeding and provide Pun-Pun with a monkey sized wheelchair. The Captain’s Personal Unathi Bodyguards were able to retrieve Faysal, and to celebrate on a job well done, took a group photo with the HoP, and had him stuffed and mounted on the wall of the Security Lobby.


Priority Announcement

An crew transfer shuttle been dispatched to your location. It will arrive in approximately 10 minutes.


Another day, another shift. All of us still living have made their way onto the shuttle and are waiting for take-off. Just a few more sec-


A.I. Announcement

I HAVE DECIDED THAT THOSE OF YOU STILL ON THIS STATION ARE TO BE TERMINATED. YOU HAVE TEN SECOND TO MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR CREATOR.

- GLORSHDIDNOTHINGWRONG


Well, at least everyone is on the shuttle already. We’ll be fine. Oh, look, the Research Director didn’t make it on in time. Hoora-I mean, oh noooooo.


“HELLO? IT’S JUST A PRANK, EVERYONE. WHY ARE YOU ALL LEAVING? WOULD YOU MIND OPENING THE D-“


Listeners, the Research Director’s head just……exploded. There is blood and brains all over the shuttle window. What an inconsiderate asshole. The janitors just finished cleaning up. Some people….


Anyway. That was another quiet and productive shift, wouldn’t you say, Plug?


Yes, DJ. Nothing out of the ordinary today. Same old, same old.


Indeed. Thank you, dear listeners, for tuning in again today. Stay tuned next for the sound of your memories being taken, altered, and put back in not quite the same way. And you don’t even care to ask “Why?”


Sweet dreams, Aurora. Sweet dreams.

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No offense but this style really is suited for podcasts.


This feels akin to reading a script to a movie, while our imagination can fill in a lot of the gaps the gift of the gab is still required for something like this, emphasis, articulation and tones are most likely what makes the podcast so great in the first place.


It's essentially a comically done description of what we could consider an average round, it's akin to an extended reddit/4chan/discord story.


I can see how this would work as a spoken podcast but not on paper.

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[mention]Coalf[/mention] Easy there, killer. No need to literally destroy the author's hopes and dreams by being more than a bit of a dick. The story was great. You don't need a voice to hear the story, assuming you can think for yourself and make up voices on your own. It was always very clear who was speaking and why they were. Having listened to the podcast, I could catch the references. Maybe you just didn't like it because you don't know the podcast. And that's fine. But don't call his work trash.


I'm trying to get him to write a sequel because I laughed so hard at this one. C'mon, Falcoooo dooo iiiit. Don't listen to grumpy Coalf, this is a great first story and you can only improve for yourself if you keep writing!

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[mention]Conspiir[/mention] I don't see what's dickish about it exactly?


This is a format that is done in Podcasts because it works the best in podcasts, I didn't say it is badly writen, I didn't say the author is a poo poo head, I said the format doesn't fit which in MY OPINION is true.


And comparing it to reddit/discord/4chan stories isn't negative either, I STARTED playing the game because of these stories and I legitimately think someone could enjoy this and join the game, I just don't find the way it was writen appealing, more of frustrating to read, FOR ME


Scripts are a part of a movie a very important part of a movie because with a bad script a good actor won't do much, but they're a PART, it is a good part don't get me wrong but it seems TO ME like a part of the whole.


I'm not telling the OP to stop writing, I'm encouraging the OP in trying out a new format.


Addendum: I have not listened to Welcome to Night Vale so my opinion is completely unbiased regarding the actual way it is writen, I just don't like the format.

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