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I've never been afraid of dying...

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WELCOME TO MERCURY INC.

(( The indie rp sideblog for The Janitor (and future associates) Mercury Inc., leader in innovation and technological advancements with the Evil Science Center rp community ; loved and penned by @sigh-the-kraken .

Disclaimer:  This blog is 16+ oriented due to mature/horror themes; no sexual content. I try to tag smartly, but let me know.))

(( Dividers by @ sweetmelodygraphics ))

THE MERCURY STORY

Mercury Inc was founded by Augustus Goldfinch in 1906 to match investors with inventors to produce innovations in industrial technologies. Mercury Inc. started as a small side business to the Goldfinch Law Company; Augustus and his employees worked out of a small studio adjacent to the business' archive. As the Mercury Inc. name grew, so did Augustus' business until it required its own three story building, and then several locations nationwide.

Mercury Inc. is a family business. It has passed from August Goldfinch to his son, Edward Goldfinch, and grandson, Henry. Recently, Alexander Goldfinch (great grandson of Augustus) serves as President.

OUR MISSION & VALUES

Here at Mercury Inc., we believe it is our mission to bring the greatest minds of our age together to resolve current and future issues for the betterment of the globe and humanity at large.

Mercury Inc. values S.C.I.E.N.C.E.: SUSTAINABILITY, CREATIVITY, INTEGRITY, EFFICIENCY, NOBLE-MINDEDNESS, COMMUNITY, and EXPLORATION.

CURRENT PROJECTS

Custodial Sorption Substance - Private Environmental Restoration (C.S.S.P.E.R.) V.2.0

Multi-limb Automated Replacement Technology (M.A.R.T.)

Microplastic Automated Reduction System (M.A.R.S.)

MERCURY IN THE PRESS

The New Ham: Mercury Inc. President thanking local law enforcement after armed assailants crash investors' gala

Saturn's Gazette: Disappearance of Henry Goldfinch Still Under Investigation

Business Time: After a shaky start to Q2, Q3 earnings for Mercury Inc. sky-rocket

Rogue: Interview with Alexander Goldfinch, America's most eligible bachelor

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*dressed in a tailored suit and carrying a golden mask* *has left their Uniform and Bag of Holding and bandages behind in Sub-basement 5.5* *none of their true self is showing*

*opens a portal in the portal room and steps through, making sure the machine closes it after them this time*

*pick-pocketing an invitation off of an investor* Excuse me, I believe you dropped this my good man *handing the investor the invitation the bartender at Club Supernova gave them*

Thank you, sir; I wouldn't want to miss out.

No, no one would.

*handing their "new" invitation to the doorman and being let into the Mercury Inc. Investors' Gala*

The Janitor's Journal - Day 7646 Day 232

Save a dance for me, Alex.

[ The Janitor told their (unconscious) humans where they are going; of course, they told them.] (Part 1 - Goldfinch Estate Artwork)

[Despite the kindness and loyalty shown to them recently, it is a struggle to accept help, to trust another. They had been coming around to it, but they couldn't bring themselves to trust for this; it is very personal. So, they are alone in the ballroom. ] (Part 2 - A Confrontation)

[In a better timeline, one without the experience of twenty years weighing them down, perhaps they wouldn't have gone alone.] (Part 3 - A Memory)

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Arc 2 Finale (Part 1): Goldfinch Estate Artwork

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Arc 2 Finale (Part 2): A Confrontation

((ooc: Long post long post; cw: stalking, attempted murder (x2), guns, threats, swallowed alive, imprisonment and fate unknown.))

A ballroom at the Goldfinch’s private estate, a private gala for Mercury Inc.’s investors. The floor is a mosaic in Greco-Roman style: a labyrinth with no exit; it writhes beneath The Janitor’s dress shoes while The Janitor writhes beneath their fancy attire. They admire a sky blue ceiling full of swirling clouds, winged-horses pulling chariots in a spiral and, at the center, Hermes in full glory from behind their mask. The Janitor feels the marble statues watching them, judging them, as they slowly stalk their prey. The band plays, conversation hums, and Alexander Goldfinch laughs. Beyond the heavy, red curtained doorways, where hidden balconies overlook the sea, waves crash, and the vibration is invigorating to The Janitor.

Sharp, sleek, and expensive. Alexander looks so much like Henry from decades ago, flitting between clumps of investors in his luxury suit and easy smile, that it hurts to look at him. Memories bubble just below their surface consciousness and threaten to overwhelm The Janitor, but they have set their mind to their path forward: Alexander has to die, here, tonight.

Talos...Elois...Emi Lose, whoever they are who sends them messages with those sorrowful purple hyacinth flowers has given them an opportunity, and The Janitor cannot waste it.

Alexander throws his head back when he laughs, showing off his bright, white teeth and long neck. At mid-forty, his dark hair does not have a flash of gray in it yet - or perhaps it does and, like everything else in the world of a Goldfinch, it is covered up. He claps the nearest gentleman on the shoulder in an amiable, companionable sort of manner and excuses himself and his date, a man that The Janitor has no attention for, from the conversation.

The pair of men move along to the next group then another and another while The Janitor plucks drinks or small plates of food from passing wait staff, holds them, and places them on different passing wait staff’s platters. They integrate themself into conversations, but say little to anyone. They stand off to the side, admiring the ballroom, admiring what was once their...her house, but never a home. In this way, they follow Alexander for over an hour until he and his date start to break away from the crowd and walk through a side door to somewhere more private; The Janitor follows.

Alexander stands against a mantle, drink in one hand and eyes on his date; his date is facing him and his back is to The Janitor as they slip through the door before it can fully shut. Neither man seems to notice as The Janitor takes a step toward them, then another. On the third step, when they were about to break out into a sprint and launch themselves at Alexander and come pouring out of their attire like a great inky wave, there is rushed footsteps and several clicks of guns being armed.

Nemesis agents surround them, marked by the purple knight chess-pieces on their uniforms. It confirms The Janitor’s most recent theory that Alexander has been sending Nemesis after them, not Henry; they do not feel remorse for going after Henry.

Alexander is looking at them now, arm linked with his date; The Janitor only has eyes for Alexander.

“Vicky! It’s been ages. You don’t call, don’t write, and decide to crash my investor party uninvited. It wouldn’t be the first time you ruined something, I suppose.”

“I had an invitation…and I...am not Victoria.”

“I will have to look into how security could be so lax then,” Alexander is all smiles; the agents are restless. “Whose piloting that Monstrosity then? Dr. King? Dr. Montoya? One of the interns?”

The Janitor drops to the floor, abandoning their mask, suit and cape, to span out across the floor in a flash, lashing out and up to grab and swallow several unlucky agents before any can get a shot off. They spot a familiar face last minute; they jerk themselves away from the woman with Józef eyes, taking her gun from her hand, and strike the man next to her, swallowing him whole. They turn their intentions to Alexander, to go after him, but pull up short.

“Behave.” Alexander is gripping his date by the arm; his other hand is a prosthesis and plasma burns in its palm where it is pressed close to his date’s face. Now that The Janitor is looking, the date is unmistakably Jana; he has Józef nose and hair. “I will waste him, Chekhov.”

Masha, behind them, takes a deep breathe. The Chekhov siblings hearts are beating rapidly; it puts The Janitor on edge, but they solidify back into a humanoid-like shape. More Nemesis agents enter the room, weapons trained on The Janitor and on Masha.

“Good experiment.” Alexander shoves Jana to the ground hard, plasma palm still pointed at him, and draws a cube-shaped device from his suit pocket. He presses a button and throws it toward The Janitor; it enlarges before it hits the ground and is clearly some kind of aquarium-like containment unit. “Get in the cube.”

The Janitor hesitates, assessing; they cannot save Jana and Masha both, and they cannot choose one over the other. What if Pablo and Precious are here also?

“Now!” Alexander’s hand hums and the plasma glows brighter, casting light across Jana’s cheeks and wide, frightened eyes; Jana makes a pained sound, and if The Janitor had a heart or a stomach both would lurch.

Masha shifts her footing behind them, but she can’t go to her brother.

The Janitor slinks into the cube; the door clamps shut, and the unit shrinks to force them to condense down.

They watch as two agents approach and pick up the containment unit between them. They are being carried away from the room, from Masha and Jana, and from Alexander, who smugly watches the proceedings. They catch Alexander’s voice (“...never had worked out, Chekhov. Now, I’ll sniff out the rest of you Moneta saboteurs…”) and a gunshot before they pass beyond their hearing range.

C.S.S.P.E.R. writhes, flares and puffs up, desperate to free itself of the containment unit and get back to the Chekhov siblings, to protect them. They press against the seams, but none of them give; the unit holds up against any and all pressure they apply against it. They are trapped, more so than they have been for a long time; it sends a jolt of panic through them, but not enough to override the fear of losing Masha and Jana a second time. C.S.S.P.E.R. growls and shrieks, but it is not enough to shake the agents and is soon drowned out by the roar of a helicopter. The Goldfinch estate (and crashed party) grows smaller as the helicopter takes C.S.S.P.E.R. away over the lapping waves and the sea, away from those they care about and love.

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Arc 2 Finale (Part 3): A Memory

((ooc: Long long post; cw for imprisonment, blood, disappearance of a whole town, being swallowed alive, living on the streets, struggling with self identification, and "coming back wrong".))

= Sunday, July 20, 2025, Location Unknown =

C.S.S.P.E.R. lays at the bottom of the containment unit, waiting for an opportunity to arise.

The lab they have been put in is sterile and cold and unwelcoming. Alexander has been by to gloat and not answer questions; the only useful information out of him has been that the head of the lab will be here at the end of the week. C.S.S.P.E.R. doesn’t know what that means for them; it is probably nothing good based on the joy in Alexander’s voice.

So, C.S.S.P.E.R. waits. An intern will get too friendly. A scientist too curious. A seam or battery or some other part of this horrid containment unit too old. Then, they’ll be free; free to seek revenge, free to leave.

They need to find out if Jana, Masha, Pablo and Precious are safe and unharmed; they want to go back to the Evil Science Center, to their sub-basements, to their friends and pets. It is strange to have something to miss in the present rather than in the past.

= Sunday, August 15, 2004, Margo, Oregon =

C.S.S.P.E.R. retches and spits, but no matter what it does its humans do not reappear from within its form. They are safe inside it, of course. That rat had been perfectly fine, so why wouldn’t its humans be?

After two whole days of trying, C.S.S.P.E.R. determines it needs to find help. Furi was always reading it stories about little humans, like Precious, who got into trouble and how it was important to ask for help when that happened. So, it will go find help back in the only place it knows: Margo.

It crawls through the woodlands, enjoying the sunlight, bird song and warm earth and marveling at the various plants and animals that it has been designed to protect. It cleans up any trash or other hazards it happens across; its creators will be so proud of it, once it gets them out of it – and, it will get them out of it.

Margo is a ghost town when C.S.S.P.E.R. arrives. It looks like the fire from the complex has somehow reached the town, except C.S.S.P.E.R. thinks maybe fire does not kick in doors or smash windows or leave car doors ajar in the street, thrown open like the driver has been wrenched from inside.

Blood paints an outer wall of the Chekhov household; C.S.S.P.E.R. slinks around the house, but locates no one. It had hoped for Jana or Masha, both brilliant like their father.

It checks Mrs. Pearl’s, but no one is within either. A trap door in the floor stands open; with its new found size, it is not much of a struggle to get back up after going down into it. It wants Precious to pet it and help it find everyone that seems to be playing hide and seek.

Furi’s housemates do not answer the door when it rams it; unless they are undead creatures, like at Halloween, they are also not inside. Furi, of course, is inside C.S.S.P.E.R., but xey had been rooming with other Mercury interns.

C.S.S.P.E.R. vibrates as it makes its way through town, but it never feels any beloved vibrations back; Margo, once bustling, is empty.

A van with a purple knight chess-piece drives down main street, and C.S.S.P.E.R. approaches it from the side. The passenger screams when C.S.S.P.E.R. pours itself through his window, and the driver swerves. The van strikes a street sign, and the two men hop out, drawing their weapons and firing at C.S.S.P.E.R. when it pours itself out of the driver’s side, unhappy about being slammed into the windshield. The bullets slide into it, disappearing; it slams its body over both men, making them disappear as well.

It needs to ask for help elsewhere.

= Sunday, January 2, 2005, New York City, New York =

Something is wrong with the world beyond Lab 5. C.S.S.P.E.R. is not really sure what it is, but it is nothing like the books Furi read to it or the music Enji and Dominic played for it; the humans out here seem different from the humans it knew from the complex.

For one, they do not seem to like when C.S.S.P.E.R. comes near them or vibrates at them or generally exists in their line of sight. There is always screaming and yelling and crying. Sometimes, people rain bullets down on it or throw things at it; it had originally thought they were feeding it, but it has since worked out that the shoes and garbage lobbed at it is done so with the intention to harm rather than help. Sometimes, humans try to trap it; it does not like those humans, and it has taken to swallowing them.

The humans most certainly do not like when C.S.S.P.E.R. talks at them; the humans at the Complex would have been overjoyed, it thinks. It does not have a strong grasp on or many words, but it is trying to learn; the few kind humans it has encountered have not understood what it needs and communication is key. Language is becoming easier though with the invasive memories.

C.S.S.P.E.R. does not like the invasive memories, but it also cherishes them, especially the ones from its creators. It remembers places its never been, the taste of human foods it has never eaten (and never will), smells of flowers and sewage, sounds of orchestras, the muscle movement of painting or playing or building, the touch of a hand or pressure of a hug, and emotions; it is confused by the array of emotions most of all - the depth and complexity.

It feels...concerned by these changes to itself. It feels...guilty about the fire. It feels...lonely and scared.

A stray cat hisses at C.S.S.P.E.R. from beneath a neighboring dumpster; it took over the cat's cardboard box, looking for shelter from the rain. C.S.S.P.E.R. hisses back, and the cat cowers and backs off.

It is all just very...unfriendly out here, beyond the Lab.

= Sunday, May 9th, 2005, Atlanta, GA =

C.S.S.P.E.R. sees Precious across the street. She is with Pops, its...Dominic's...their (?) father, walking to Church. Her hair is in braids, decorated with pony beads and rubber-bands. Her adult tooth has filled in the gap left from losing her baby tooth. She spins to talk to Pops, who tells her to be careful of the broken up sidewalk and to walk forward-facing.

It wants to go to her, to hug her. She is its daughter, its baby.

It can't go to her or hug her; its dangerous for it to touch anything or anyone, and it is not Dominic.

Or, is it? Sometimes, it feels like it is Dominic or one of the its creators or one of the people its swallowed for trying to trap it. Seeing Guy and Sierra ignited a deep longing and general confusion over its marital status; it suspects seeing Katya (if it could find her and Masha and Jana) would cause the same response.

Memories, jumbled together, more and more of them as time passes; it is losing itself in them. Maybe, it should start suppressing them?

C.S.S.P.E.R. is laying in a puddle of paint; that happens when it is sad, and that is frustrating - it can release paint, but not free its humans. It growls; Pops turns his face in C.S.S.P.E.R.'s direction, and it flees.

= Sunday, August 14, 2005, Margo, Oregon =

The anniversary was yesterday; they came all the way "home" for it.

C.S.S.P.E.R. lingers on a rooftop, overlooking the busy street.

Margo is no longer a ghost town, but the people that occupy it are strange. Not strange in the way humans beyond the lab were to them at first; they grew used to that strangeness - it is normal now. No, these humans seem automated, occasionally dazed; C.S.S.P.E.R. doesn't like it.

The Complex is being rebuilt. Not as grand or large or well equipped as before; they already decided they can't go there for help.

Not that they have been able to find anyone that could or would offer them help since they set out looking for it a year ago.

Maybe, Furi was wrong; the thought feels traitorous and uncomfortable.

Maybe, they would have to do this alone, or as alone as they ever got. They may not know everything they need to, but they can learn and teach themself; case in point, they can nearly speak well now, and it thinks its creators would be proud of it for that.

C.S.S.P.E.R. will keep asking for help (just a little while longer; it will make Furi happy when xey hear about it, they reason), but they will start taking steps to free their creators on their own.

Surely by the next anniversary, they will all be together again as they were before.

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*hesitating for a second before taking Sir Balderdash's hand to shake, being very gentle about it*

Yes, that would be very good; I would not mind another chase, but perhaps without the electrified nets and shooting.

*giving Sir Balderdash's hand a final slight squeeze*

I will think on it.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

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*standing, bandages rearranging and smoothing down their clothes* *tucking the ribbons away*

Yes, the Center is always in need of janitorial services. Despite the....complications, I enjoyed our outing.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

*picking out a few blues and purples and teals* I'm sure I can make something from these.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

As I have been told...by multiple people. *still finds it very strange to hear*

Not to worry; I am made of sturdy material. *tapping their own chest*

*passing the fabric over* These are not really to my taste, but they'd probably serve you well.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

*making a rumbling sound that is apparently laughter; is shocked that they are laughing, but it just kind of bubbled out of them at Sir Balderdash's enthusiasm*

I appreciate the support, but try not to get injured; I wouldn't want you to end up a patient in your own medbay.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

*a little bit touched and a little bit dazed by this blatant loyalty, despite the fact that this keeps happening to them since they came to the Center*

...

*has put the staff in danger with their machine, but that worked out; however, would fully kill a staff member if they got down into sub-basement 5.5 uninvited and saw their [secret] humans*

The only clues I have are purple ink, threats, forget-me-not petals stuck to the outside of boxes, and purple hyacinth flowers on warnings. It is not much to work with.

*gestures to themself*

I inspire fear in a lot of people; perhaps, someone just wants me gone for being...strange.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

When you say it like that, it really is quite a lot of bad luck.

*thinking, turning ideas over*

I have had a lot of jobs before; I did not leave many of them on good terms. Maybe, I have angered someone.

(( @bewarethecircles and @sir-balderdash-the-bard Delivery :D ))

[ Sir Balderdash's mail has been dropped off by a cyberspider. Amongst the normal junk mail and letters is a flyer and coupon for New Threads, which is apparently a fabric shop. The flyer has a silly purple horse mascot wearing a polka-dotted blanket at the top.

The coupon reads "30% off your entire purchase; 50% when you bring a friend". Costuming and apparel fabric is on sale; they're having an excellent yarn sale as well.

The flyer is addressed to "ESC sub-basement resident", so it must have got mixed in on accident.]

[the-janitor-esc]

*makes a tiny clicking sound of surprise but offering the box to Dr. Reyes* Negative. Waffle: does not mind. (⌒_⌒) - #378 (Waffle)

[ The small box is heavy. Closer up, there is the distinct sound of sloshing from inside. A pleasant scent can be caught briefly, faintly. ]

(( @mr-rey-of-sunshine Package 2 :D ))

[A cyberspider is lost in the hallway. They are staring at a directory board on the wall while throwing a small box between their grabbers.]