I begin tucking him in and he tells me with a smile, 'Mommy check for monsters under my bed.' I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, 'Mommy there's a monster in my bed.'
Beaverton Oregon, USA. ██ / ██ / 20██
A potential phenomena was detected by Foundation automated media/communication monitoring systems at 05:37:20 when a local radio news station reported a story on several missing persons (review attached document.) Report contains details indicative with that of an anomalous event. Probability of specimen: 78.5%. An acquisition order was approved by Hyperion at 09:20:57. A dispatch team consisting of level ⓵, ⓸, and ⓹ personnel is to be deployed to investigate the anomaly and any person(s) associated with it. In the event of specimen confirmation, a report is to be made to Foundation HQ via telecommunication and immediate containment and quarantine procedures are to be enacted if possible. Additional personnel may volunteer with approval of an on site Admin. The deployment of one(1) Boeing VC-25 passenger transportation aircraft has been approved for this mission. Any additional transportation is available on location upon request.
The sun had just begun to rise over the hills in the distance, filling the dim sky with a brilliant sea of light and warmth. A beautiful sight to behold for anyone lucky enough to gaze upon it. This was not the case for agent Miles Gatsworth, administrator for the personnel dispatch department within Foundation HQ. Instead, sitting within the dank confines of a small white office, he meagerly enjoyed the warmth of the mug of coffee in his hand as he sat at his deck, reviewing field reports on the last specimen that was obtained, still awaiting declassification. The entity had hastily been shipped off to the research department before he had a chance to get a look at it so he wanted to read up on it a bit. Miles always enjoyed knowing about specimen before the other staff. But before he could get to the specimens description, an order from the higher ups came down through the mailing tubes. Letting off a dull sigh, Miles grabbed the mail canister and popped it open, pulling out the approved acquisition order with an attached document.
A few moments passed as the Admin sipped his coffee and read over the pieces of paper. An eye brow raised as he read the news report. To some, it may seem dismissible, but Miles had been with the foundation long enough to know a specimen when he see's one. Rather, reads about it. "Feh...seventy eight percent my arse. Everybody knows the bloody monitor doesn't even bother piping up unless it's an actual specimen. The damn thing should should just say one hundred percent every time." All the time in this quiet office drove Miles to conversing with himself on many occasions. Today was no different. Despite being a little bothered by having to move from his cushy chair, Miles was actually somewhat relieved to be getting a chance at leaving that lonesome office.
Leaving through an automated motion detecting door, Miles made his way down the chrome plated halls toward the announcement room where he kept a few personnel records on hand for easy deployment. He wasn't supposed to organize teams before a mission was announced. However with all the free time he had, being an expert bureaucrat, he couldn't help but organize teams in advance when he knew he would have to do it anyway. It's not like there's suddenly going to be no more specimen to contain. Even if that day did exist, it would be beyond his time. This was at least what Miles believed. Sliding his access card through a auto lock, another door slid open, revealing a room filled with file cabinets, television screens, and a telephone wired to the PA system.
Beaverton Oregon, USA. ██ / ██ / 20██
A potential phenomena was detected by Foundation automated media/communication monitoring systems at 05:37:20 when a local radio news station reported a story on several missing persons (review attached document.) Report contains details indicative with that of an anomalous event. Probability of specimen: 78.5%. An acquisition order was approved by Hyperion at 09:20:57. A dispatch team consisting of level ⓵, ⓸, and ⓹ personnel is to be deployed to investigate the anomaly and any person(s) associated with it. In the event of specimen confirmation, a report is to be made to Foundation HQ via telecommunication and immediate containment and quarantine procedures are to be enacted if possible. Additional personnel may volunteer with approval of an on site Admin. The deployment of one(1) Boeing VC-25 passenger transportation aircraft has been approved for this mission. Any additional transportation is available on location upon request.
The sun had just begun to rise over the hills in the distance, filling the dim sky with a brilliant sea of light and warmth. A beautiful sight to behold for anyone lucky enough to gaze upon it. This was not the case for agent Miles Gatsworth, administrator for the personnel dispatch department within Foundation HQ. Instead, sitting within the dank confines of a small white office, he meagerly enjoyed the warmth of the mug of coffee in his hand as he sat at his deck, reviewing field reports on the last specimen that was obtained, still awaiting declassification. The entity had hastily been shipped off to the research department before he had a chance to get a look at it so he wanted to read up on it a bit. Miles always enjoyed knowing about specimen before the other staff. But before he could get to the specimens description, an order from the higher ups came down through the mailing tubes. Letting off a dull sigh, Miles grabbed the mail canister and popped it open, pulling out the approved acquisition order with an attached document.
A few moments passed as the Admin sipped his coffee and read over the pieces of paper. An eye brow raised as he read the news report. To some, it may seem dismissible, but Miles had been with the foundation long enough to know a specimen when he see's one. Rather, reads about it. "Feh...seventy eight percent my arse. Everybody knows the bloody monitor doesn't even bother piping up unless it's an actual specimen. The damn thing should should just say one hundred percent every time." All the time in this quiet office drove Miles to conversing with himself on many occasions. Today was no different. Despite being a little bothered by having to move from his cushy chair, Miles was actually somewhat relieved to be getting a chance at leaving that lonesome office.
Leaving through an automated motion detecting door, Miles made his way down the chrome plated halls toward the announcement room where he kept a few personnel records on hand for easy deployment. He wasn't supposed to organize teams before a mission was announced. However with all the free time he had, being an expert bureaucrat, he couldn't help but organize teams in advance when he knew he would have to do it anyway. It's not like there's suddenly going to be no more specimen to contain. Even if that day did exist, it would be beyond his time. This was at least what Miles believed. Sliding his access card through a auto lock, another door slid open, revealing a room filled with file cabinets, television screens, and a telephone wired to the PA system.
