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Board Name: RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL
Board URL: BAM!
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Loups-Garoux; lycanthropes; werewolves; homo lupus. Whatever you want to call them,
they're hardly new to France. But these secretive, cautious creatures have never been so
exposed, and never have they been in such dire need of help. A new virus has hit them,
and hit them hard. The slang term for it is werewolf rabies, and it's a fairly accurate judg-
ment. It turns a creature already prone to savagery into a true beast, incapable of control.
Angry, nerves pulled taut, there's something wrong with their minds. One moment they
may be fine, the next they maul without warning. They can't help themselves. They're sick.

They've gone to the government for help, after so many years of careful secrecy, as they
had no one else to turn to. They submitted infected wolves for testing, and the government
made their existence public. The public backlashed hard; no one wants to learn that their
beloved child's kindergarten teacher is actually a bloodthirsty wolf. All werewolves have
been given a demand to register. No one wants to be locked in a cage at night and forced to
endure public hate whenever they have to flash their shiny new identification cards. With
the government chasing them around by their tails, and the public in outrage, terrified of
the monsters in their midst, what can they do?

When you corner an animal, they're bound to attack back.

RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL !
PLOT • RULES • CANONS • ADVERTISE

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Board Name: FEVER DREAM
Board URL: http://z3.invisionfree.com/feverdream/index.php
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STORED RADIO TRANSMISSIONS FROM ALASKA
RECORDED DURING AND AFTER THE EVENTS OF SPRING 2013

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"ARE YOU SURE THIS BLOODY THING WORKS? I DON'T THINK IT DOES. IT'S
AS OLD AS SHIT--WHEN WILL THE GOVERNMENT THINK ABOUT FUNDING
US WITH DECENT EQUIPMENT? IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE LIVING IN THE STONE
AGE. JESUS CHRIST."

"GET OUT OF THE WAY, BOYD, YOU OLD CUNT. ANYONE WOULD THINK YOU
WERE BORN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, THE WAY YOU KEEP GOING ON
AND WHINING. LOOK, IS THE BUTTON GREEN? IF IT'S GREEN, IT'S ON. IF IT'S
RED, IT'S NOT ON. SEE? IT'S NOT FUCKING ROCKET SCIENCE."

"DID I SAY I WAS A ROCKET SCIENTIST? I DON'T THINK SO. YES, THE
BUTTON'S GREEN, I'M NOT STUPID. YOU'RE STUPID. FUCK YOU."

"THAT FUCKING MEANS IT'S BEEN FUCKING RECORDING--BOYD, YOU'RE
A FUCKING IDIOT, DO YOU KNOW THAT? THIS IS BEING BROADCAST ALL
THE WAY UP TO STANLEY. YOU'RE A FUCKING, FUCKING IDIOT. I'LL--"

(THERE ARE SOUNDS OF A SCUFFLE. RADIO BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"... UH, THIS IS DOCTOR FRASER BOYD REPORTING ON PROGRESS HERE
AT THE LAB. THINGS ARE GOING OKAY--THE VIRUS HAS REACHED THE
STAGE WE LIKE TO CALL DANGEROUS. IT'S HIGHLY INFECTIOUS AND
HAS THE POTENTIAL, AS SPECIFIED, TO WIPE OUT PEOPLE WITHIN A
MATTER OF DAYS. OF COURSE, THIS MEANS WE HAVE TO ENDORSE
NEW SECURITY MEASURES TO ENSURE EVERYTHING IS KEPT SAFE,
AND SO FAR THAT'S GOING WELL. IT SHOULD BE COMPLETED SOON."

"BY SOON, DOCTOR BOYD ESTIMATES AROUND SEPTEMBER OR OCTOBER.
AT THIS TIME, WE'RE UNABLE TO OFFER AN EXACT DATE, BUT THIS IS
THE CLOSEST ESTIMATE WE'RE ABLE TO WORK OUT THUS FAR. THIS IS
ELAINE CARMICHAEL SPEAKING, LABORATORY ASSISTANT TO BOYD."

"IT'S DOCTOR BOYD--"

"--THEY KNOW THAT. THEY'RE NOT IDIOTS."

"YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT."

"FRASER, SHUT UP."

"YOU CAN'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. GO AND MAKE ME SOME LUNCH."

(DISGRUNTLED MURMURS FROM ELAINE; RADIO BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"ELAINE HERE. JUST SO YOU KNOW, MISTER STANLEY, BOYD'S A PRICK."

"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO USE THE RADIO FOR PERSONAL GAIN."

"BEN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? YOU'RE MEANT TO BE IN THE LAB."

"I CAME TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON. BOYD'S GRIPING ABOUT HOW
HE HASN'T BEEN GIVEN HIS LUNCH YET. GET A MOVE ON OR I'LL TELL
HIM YOU'RE BROADCASTING BOLLOCKS ABOUT HIM. TURN IT OFF."

"UGH. FINE. FUCK YOU. FUCK THIS PLACE. FINE."

(BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"THIS IS DOCTOR BEN WESLEY. WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY. ELAINE DIDN'T
FOLLOW BASIC PROCEDURE AND IS NOW IN QUARANTINE. EFFECTS
OF THE VIRUS AREN'T YET KNOWN; BOYD SUSPECTS SHE MAY DIE. WE
ARE WORKING ON A VACCINE BUT HAVEN'T COME UP WITH ANYTHING
SO FAR. I'LL TRY AND KEEP YOU UPDATED - I'M NEEDED IN THE LAB."

(DOCTOR WESLEY SIGHS SADLY. RADIO BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"THINGS ARE GETTING OUT OF HAND. ELAINE DIDN'T DIE - SHE'S OUT OF
QUARANTINE - BUT NOW BOYD'S SHOWING SIGNS OF ILLNESS. I'M NOT
SURE WHETHER TO ISOLATE HIM OR NOT--ELAINE DOESN'T SEEM ALL
THAT AFFECTED BT THE VIRUS, BUT WE CAN'T BE TOO SURE..."

(THERE IS THE SOUND OF TALKING, INAUDIBLE TO LISTENERS.)

"DOCTOR BOYD INSISTS NOTHING'S WRONG WITH HIM AND HAS GONE
HOME. WE'LL KEEP AN EYE ON HIM AND SEE IF ANYTHING COMES UP."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"BOYD HERE. I'M FINE, CHIRPY, NEVER BEEN BETTER... BUT ALASKA'S
COMMUNITY IS SUFFERING. THEY'RE DISPLAYING SYMPTOMS OF THE
VIRUS AND ARE DYING AT AN ALARMING RATE. WE NEED FUNDING TO
START RESEARCHING AND TESTING A VACCINE FOR THIS--ASAP, TOO."

(BOYD HUMS TO HIMSELF; BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"WE HAVE REPORTS THAT THE WORLD HEALTH ORGANISATION HAS
DEEMED THIS A PANDEMIC. SURELY THAT'S ENOUGH OF A REASON
TO KEEP US OPEN, NOT FUCKING SHUT US DOWN. YOU'LL DOOM US
ALL IF YOU DO THAT, STANLEY. ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME?
YOU. WILL. DOOM. US. ALL. YOU MIGHT AS WELL ANNOUNCE THAT
WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE, PUT IT ON THE SIX O'CLOCK NEWS. JESUS."

(BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HE'S PULLING THE PLUG?"

"YES, BEN, HE'S PULLING THE PLUG."

"BUT BOYD--WE'RE FUCKED IF HE DOES THAT."

"YES, BEN, WE ARE FUCKED."

"HAVE YOU CONTACTED HIM?"

"THROUGH THIS TRUSTY RADIO, YES."

"HAS HE REPLIED?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

"FUCK, WE'RE FUCKING FUCKED."

(BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"FUCK YOU, STANLEY. MOST OF ALASKA'S FUCKING DEAD BECAUSE OF
YOU. I HOPE YOU FUCKING ROT IN FUCKING HELL, YOU BASTARD."

"BEN, CALM DOWN."

"FUCK OFF, ELAINE. YOU AND BOYD MAY BE FINE BUT ME AND THE
OTHERS ARE ALL SHOWING SIGNS OF THE VIRUS. WE COULD DIE."

"IF ME AND BOYD ARE FINE, YOU'LL PROBABLY BE FINE."

"YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW THAT."

"SOME PEOPLE OUTSIDE ARE FINE. YOU'LL BE OKAY. WE'LL ALL BE OKAY."

(BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"BOYD HERE AGAIN. ALASKA'S PRACTICALLY NON-EXISTENT. IF YOU
CAN HEAR THIS... ACTUALLY, I HOPE YOU CAN'T HEAR THIS, STANLEY.
WE ESTIMATE AMERICA WILL BE WIPED OUT IN A MONTH. THAT'S ALL."

(BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"ALL TEN OF US ARE HERE AND ACCOUNTED FOR. IF YOU CAN HEAR
THIS BROADCAST, YOU'RE... WELL, YOU'RE ALIVE. WE'RE IN ALASKA."

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANYONE COME TO ALASKA, BOYD?"

"JESUS, ELAINE, STOP FUCKING COMMENTING ON EVERYTHING I SAY."

"SHE HAS A POINT. THE RADIO OUTSIDE THE LAB IS BROADCASTING
FROM LAS VEGAS--SOMETHING ABOUT A NEW AMERICA OR... SOME
SHIT. I WASN'T REALLY PAYING ATTENTION. IT SOUNDS LIKE A PLAN."

"ARE PEOPLE GOING THERE, BEN?"

"YEAH, I FIGURE SO. I'M NOT SURE. I SAW PEOPLE PACKING UP A FEW
HOURS AGO, SO I RECKON THEY MUST BE HEADING TO LAS VEGAS."

"WELL, THEY'RE NOT EXACTLY GOING THERE TO GET MARRIED."

(TWO VOICES AT ONCE) "ELAINE, SHUT THE FUCK UP."

(THERE ARE SOUNDS OF SEVERAL SCUFFLES; BROADCAST ENDS.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"SO, BOYD, DO YOU THINK PEOPLE WILL COME TO ALASKA?"

"DEPENDS."

"WE SHOULD JUST GO TO FUCKING LAS VEGAS."

"WHEN WE WANT YOUR OPINION, ELAINE, WE'LL ASK FOR IT."

"SHUT UP, BEN."

"I'M IGNORING YOU."

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP. TELL EVERYONE ELSE TO PACK ESSENTIALS."

"WHAT?"

"WE'RE GOING TO LAS VEGAS. ELAINE'S SUGGESTION WAS VALID."

"BUT WE DIDN'T ASK FOR IT--"

"--SUCK MY CLIT, BEN."

"ELAINE, DON'T BE VULGAR. GO AND PACK YOUR THINGS. BEN, YOU
DO THE SAME. NO ARGUMENTS, JUST DO IT. NO MAKE UP EITHER."

"WHAT? BOYD, I HAVE TO HAVE MAKE UP--"

"--IF YOU CAN HEAR THIS, WE'RE GOING TO LAS VEGAS. YOU SHOULD
PROBABLY HEAD THERE TOO. IF YOU'RE NEAR ALASKA, WE'LL TRY
AND MEET YOU ON THE WAY. THIS IS DOCTOR FRASER BOYD OVER
AND OUT."

"BOYD, YOU'RE SUCH A DICK."

"YOU SHOULD BE PACKING, ELAINE."

"I AM--"

(BROADCAST ENDS ABRUPTLY.)

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FEVER DREAM
A POST-APOCALYPTIC ROLE PLAY BROUGHT TO YOU BY ERIN AND ELLIS[/center]
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