# ultradeff ode to bioman via researcher swanson for bsz hypercorporation temporal 02:10sbt standard bass time spatial in and around d90 zone 12 lab 515 moodtone japanese akira containment sphere type technical file under basement rogue archives / thanatos / techno d00m spew text / first person techno d00m sci fi survival error shoot em' ups big science general / unspecific suggested usage best viewed on small neato hand held human-ai pda in any kind of cold clean lined waiting room one which smells of blue highly astringent disinfectant and features sinister white tiles important with florescent strip lighting which flickers brutally with a loud disturbing buzz combines well with undead 90 playing on a low rez 'crt' monitor sreen with the sound way up / disabled all while munching massively artificial cheesy nacho snacklets now playing 'leaking mutation canister underground biohazard warning klaxon' (remix by alien autopsy technicians vs cvb cockney voodoo beaver) warnings may result in black lead block nightmares hyperviolet ontological seizures or mild conceptual datapocalyptic tendencies as found while wandering around bass in a heavily armored golf cart dark around these parts lots of dense and diffused volumetric lighting effects hmm no zombies at all around here had our dead detection profiling subroutines on our hand held size deck recently updated as well got this sorted sci fi lifestyle soundtrack mix off scarf tulku yesterday ir way of saying thanks for recently correcting an incorrect mark they got for a university assignment it's an aat vs cvb music track and is probably one of more funked up things ever heard by big scientists over what appears to be sound how to say a young atac voter getting repeatedly duffed is heavy breathing spindly fingers down chalkboards accountants running barefoot down long dark techno corridors full of blaring biohazard warning klaxons deep underground the repeated smashing of large reinforced ceramic jars full of rotting acidic liquid all of it crashing against a reverberating sheet of ragged angular metal one mile across weighing a thousand billion tonnes in short it's quote ee cummings 'exad exad' from time to time there's a voice shouting 'grey slopes lab door codes and blisterfaces we scream around corners of black lead deff cubes plunging into mind-rust scalpels until the day polyversal rot cries out in perpetual radio activated blood torment; unleash the rainbow unicorns of pain' you know heavy stuff like that it's pretty tough going even for these nfr80's times for this is ultradeff ode to bioman nobody knows who these creatures are were or even if they're even to be considered as researchers the myth of bioman has been haunting this bass for at least a couple of (troubled) weeks now it's only today that we built up the courage to travel down this far on our own where the moodtones are right start up a new blue spew text cube about the whole shady arena how to describe bioman well while there's almost definitely more than one wandering around on bass they all somehow seem to be the same being and not mere vat-escaped clones for this is where our temporary research on this matter has taken us fellow researcher dr. orloff says don't bother and try not to think or worry about it too much and we don't blame them there are more than enough profoundly beautiful andor disturbingly freaky arts things down here without adding another to the list the whole myth appears to concern one of the cheaper for hire lab techs on a sub level down on d82 apparently they got caught in an extra dimensional bioplasmic warp field of an accidentally back discharging teleportal generator the poor git must of somehow 'split' dimensionally speaking into several local hyper-mirroring spacetime energy discontinuities at once locally this is known as a dirty imj 'industrial meat jumble' a terribly dismissive phrase for generic meta based scientific accidents but in this case feels perfectly accurate as gathered from a quick local supernode file heading metadata search on the bioman myth as compiled by miles davis mind on a lonesome sector of the rogue basement archives composite picture of all details left behind by other researchers on this odd state of being any or even all of which might well be nothing but casual scientific hearsay as taken from other nth chain sources of uncertain reliability or just merely true enough to be worrying for the modem researcher even for those with winning hairstyles and a nice wrist watch bioman is always dressed in what looks like full body biomutation gear one piece suit of super thick radio active puke green safety rubber that covers bioman from head to toe the suit has it's own integral breathing recyc canister on the back filled with vile neon green disturbingly hallucinogenic gas that's dark vision specific if researchers accidentally breath that in they'll know what precise insanity vision but won't want to survive long enough to tell anyone else the suit rubber is important a bioman's is called 'horrible rubber' for a good reason its properties look and feel are unique and disturbing that is a tends toward extremes meant to disturb regular scientific equilibrium the suit features a near indestructible metasilicon face plate with a fiercely reflective chrome sheen there's an inset neon strip light set around the edge when bioman has spotted you in your crap hiding place this strip lights up in a sinister way this allows the victim a quick last gulp and fatal glimpse of the terrifying runny face-thing waiting inside the light is often either bright reddy orange or a strangely beautiful kind of liquid neon blue apparently bioman is aggressively disfigured behind ir face plate but can lift it up in order to paralyse ir prey food - a simple use of stark raw error disgust although few have seen them up close apparently they pull the victim close around ir neck with a vice grip lifting up ir face mask they somehow force ir victim's face into andor through ir own the subsequent heavy thousand year stink funk crypt fog released is hcj 'hydrocarbon corpse juice' so indescribably repellent it will knock a buzzard off a bin lorry at half a mile a horrible low schlupping sound of whoever bioman is consuming / absorbing will then be heard along with repeated revolving 'blood belching' the reason for all this consumption / absorption is unclear maybe bioman just digs it deep inside ir hazard gear bioman is more than likely partially liquid and super mouldy a walking toxic sludge factory all ir bones have nasty ragged sharp growths which continually burst through ir various rotting epidermal layerings they're covered in massive spurt bleeding grape-clusters of constantly flowering purple pustules and open milky space maggot sores from the outside of ir suit one can often clearly witness various revolting parasitical movements and undulations taking place beneath it almost as if the inside of the suit is larger than the outside dimensionally speaking if researchers are already that close chances are they're amd already mega dead understand that bioman isn't an undeader but a lab based biomutant it seems important to get such subtle in-scene distinctions correct as one's entire short term research career often depends on it at the time of ir multiple life phaze split accident bioman must of somehow dimensionally merged with a large nearby canister of cynically unmarked radio activated mutagenic bioacid the result of all this nasty constant rotting and unchecked cellular growth inside bioman's suit is that the suit is always at a high critical state of polyversal being / terminal zeitgeist pressure fellow researcher dr. orloff: who leaves those darn large canister things around surbass anyhow swanson: yeah researcher and what is it with these large rusting badly labeled metal containers that sit around all day in narrow poorly lit corridors (i mean has any researcher ever looked inside one) gene 'manta' rahy: apparently they only open from the inside - yeesh dr. orloff: mind you we've often found that by piling them up with antigrav supermarket manipulator claw we can more easily reach hard to get yet architecturally engaging areas like vent shafts swanson sighs: also what's with all these crates lying about lazy lab level design that's what it is bioman always seems highly annoyed though this is hardly surprising given ir bad luck and how fellow researchers keep mistaking them for a mere zombie if ir suit gets punctured a bioman will immediately spurt out 25 meter long needle sharp jet arcs of bright green glow in dark radio active mutagenic bioacid for several seconds before the suit instantly heals the reason they can lift ir face plate up without entirely emptying out onto the floor /bleurrgh is because ir suit has a neck seal such spurting bioacid will actively melt into virtually anything it touches and then rapidly mutate it the precise area of contact will start sprouting sharp black scaly tentacles flowering pustules and other neato 80's underground vhs style freakyness these researchers can themselves go on to immediately biomutate other reckless idiots nearby the suit itself features a type of rubber that's horrible to touch; it brings to mind a highly terminally specific boss fight arena in a radial first person techno d00m survival sci fi error one full of ultra freaky dimensionally biocosmic scale experiments n freaky stuff where (for instane) one has to pop the glowing andor screaming neon yellow undead cultists exuding out of the bosses' skin there is but one way to terminally disable / phaze-space a bioman back but few here at bsz hypercorporation know what it is yet - andor simply haven't stored up the necessary minerals to apply such a dangerous method up close in the field by now of course legendary forward research crew known as 'hardcore biofreak removal operatives' have ir own methods of course but these are proprietary they involve super high bioplasmic voltage arcs projected from near-future megaweapons secretly on permanent loan from passing alien anthropologists they will of course hand these out to advanced fellow researchers such as henry swanson and scarf 'on a wire' tulku but only for fifteen minute slots at a time in ir spare time bioman enjoys compiling neat freeverse poems playing '3d go' with local auto dispensing coffee machines on d82 composing little amazonian pygmy tribe thumb piano ditties which can be heard tinkling along the silent corridors of a 'credible secrete underground research bass' henry swanson fellow researcher of strange imaginary play-state 'big science' is the only researcher to stick a4 office paper with the words 'kick us lol' on the back of a surbass bioman and live to chuckle nervously about it back in ir lab the jammy badger // republic of bob