RPC-177

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This image of RPC-177 represents the baseline minimum degree of image filtration and processing necessary to avoid the effects of RPC-177-1. Viewing of the image in full colour or at higher resolutions may cause RPC-177-1 in personnel with low cognitohazard tolerance.

Registered Phenomena Code: 177

Object Class: Beta-Orange

Hazard Types: Organic Hazard, Sapient Hazard, Regenerative Hazard, Auditory Hazard, Emotional Hazard, Info-Hazard, Visual Hazard

Containment Protocols: RPC-177 is contained in a standard humanoid containment cell on Site-███. All contact with RPC-177 is to be done via remote-controlled drone or through a series of manipulator davits installed in the roof of the entity's cell. Any and all video and audio recorded from standard monitoring equipment within RPC-177's cell is automatically passed through a Type 3 anti-memetic filtering processor set to its highest intensity to reduce the effects of exposure to RPC-177-1.

Any personnel who come into direct physical contact with RPC-177, see unfiltered images of RPC-177, breathe air which has been exhaled by RPC-177, or in any way have a direct sensory experience of RPC-177 are to undergo regular psychological monitoring. While such personnel are permitted to continue their regular duties, any unusual behaviour, including sexual obsession with RPC-177 or violating containment protocols to view unfiltered images or listen to unfiltered audio of RPC-177, will result in amnesticization and transfer to other projects.

All surviving personnel recovered from Site-███ are not to be permitted contact with RPC-177 or allowed access to any RPC-177 related files, given the extensive period during which they were affected by RPC-177-1.1

Description: RPC-177 is an anomalous humanoid which generates a powerful sensory Cognito-hazard. Physically, RPC-177 is male, white, approximately 20 years of age, blond-haired, blue-eyed, 196 cm tall, weighs 94 kilograms and is currently in a perfect state of health. RPC-177's physique is extremely muscular2, and its muscle tone has shown no sign of atrophy despite extensive periods without exercise while in containment. The entity demonstrates superhuman strength, agility and heals rapidly from injuries. It is capable of remaining immobile for long periods of time without discomfort or injury. It has proven unusually resistant to extremes of temperature, as well as exposure to a wide variety of disease agents and common poisons.

RPC-177 has an IQ of 170, 20/15 vision, and causes immediate and violent psychological effects in any human beings who undergo a direct sensory of experience of it or any part of its body, living or dead. This effect, designated RPC-177-1, can be triggered by any kind of sensory exposure for any length of time, even if the subject is unaware of the exposure.3

Subjects afflicted by RPC-177-1 become convinced that RPC-177 is the ideal human being, and will base all personal value judgements for themselves and other humans on this perception. This invariably results in RPC-177-1 afflictees perceiving all human beings as being weaker, less intelligent, and less physically attractive than RPC-177-1, including themselves. Subjects frequently experience intense emotions in regards RPC-177-1, usually combinations of jealousy, depression, inadequacy, hero-worship and violent sexual desire. Staff of both sexes, regardless of sexual preference, have demonstrated intense sexual attraction to RPC-177 while under the influence of RPC-177-1. Amnestics and glyph treatments have proven successful in eliminating the effects of RPC-177-1, though they do not protect against re-exposure.

In interviews, RPC-177 has repeatedly asked to be permitted to deliver letters, parcels, and packages, or in some way act as a courier for Authority personnel. The entity consistently refused to elaborate on why, until an incident on ██/██/2019, when Researcher G███ hummed an excerpt from the soundtrack to the animated film Aladdin.

Document: Partial Transcript of Weekly Research Interview with RPC-177, ██/██/2019:

RPC-177: No, I do not want anything for my cell. Why would I need it when I'm already perfect?

Researcher G███: If you insist. Let's see what else is on the docket today.

[Sound of papers shuffling.]

G: Now, in regards the experiments we conducted last wee-

RPC-177: Eight and a half by eleven. Those pages. You could fit those in some #10 envelopes real nice. I could deliver them for you, you know.

G: We both know that's not an option, RPC-177. And now I've lost my train of thought.

[Researcher G███ hums several bars from what he later confirms to be the song Friend Like Me.]

RPC-177: A friend? Let me tell you about friends.

G: I'm sorry?

RPC-177: Friends in lamps.

G: You're going to have to elabor-

RPC-177: I should have known. That smug towelhead-looking fucker. I should have known.

G: I'm sorry, RPC-177, I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about.

RPC-177: Why would I trust someone who came out of a goddamn lamp?

[Sound of a loud impact. Footage reveals RPC-177 had just punched a hole in the standard-issue desk of its cell.]

G: Uhhh, guys, can we get a Protection detail in here?

RPC-177: I'LL GIVE YOU YOUR THREE WISHES YOU SLIMY FUCKER-!

[RPC-177 continues to destroy the interior of its cell.]

RPC-177: I COULD HAVE BEEN SMART! I COULD HAVE DONE THE RIGHT THING. UNLIMITED MONEY! ALL THE PUSSY IN THE WORLD! BUT NO! I HAD TO READ ME SOME FRIEDRICH FUCKING NIETZSCHE!

G: Please- please, calm down! What the hell are you talking about?

[Sudden increase in volume indicates RPC-177 has leaned in extremely close to the microphone. The entity is breathing heavily.]

RPC-177: So this genie, right? Says I have three wishes. And me, I'd just finished reading Also Sprach Zarathustra. So I've got these notions in my head. Stupid idea. I ask to be turned into the Ubermensch. The perfect superhuman. And that dumb fucking cloud of gas magic fairy towelhead fuck, what does he do? Well?

G: I don't kno-

RPC-177: That rat bastard does it, and then makes me addicted to delivering letters. You ever had a fix for dropping a postcard in someone's mailslot? Or stamping a padded envelope 'not delivered'?

G: I can't say I have, but I don't follow.

[RPC-177 laughs hysterically for several seconds.]

RPC-177: He was supposed to turn me into the Overman. But I shoulda known, from the smug self-satisfied look on that fucker's face. He looked at me and said, "So you want to become something beyond humanity? Something post-human?" I can remember his exact fucking words.

[RPC-177 pauses for several seconds, apparently catching its breath.]

RPC-177: So he said "You want to become the post-human? The post-man?" And then I said yes, and HERE I FUCKING AM! I'M THE FUCKING POST-MAN.

G: Christ. You're serious?

RPC-177: DO I LOOK LIKE I'M JOKING? NOW HURRY THE FUCK UP AND BRING ME SOME GODDAMN MAIL.

Further investigation into the "genie" that provided RPC-177 with its abilities, as well as its violent psychological addiction to the act of delivering mail, is ongoing. RPC-177 has refused to elaborate further on the nature or identity of the entity in question. While several anomalies in containment generally match the traditional depiction of the "genie", notably RPC-███, ███ and ███, all have denied knowledge of RPC-177.

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