ok guess ill start posting things aaaaaaa
sorry abt the little story thing, I was gonna proofread it but just... didnt. it's whatev tho
you get the idea

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The flier had said "Volunteers needed".

It was in some back alley street, stapled to an old wooden pillar, the type that held the power lines away from the clumsy civilians. Gewde had recently lost his job due to cuts; work was becoming scarce again. Unless you were determined enough to climb the corporate ladder where you spent your Friday afternoons in the boss's office under the desk, or you spent all your savings getting a piece of paper saying you passed a test and can plug in a TV or something like that, you were fodder, just buying time with labor until your job pulled out the scissors on your livelihood because your best just wasn’t good enough.

And Gew had bills to pay.

The job in question was for a volunteer researcher position, in a facility that had been built over top of what used to be a family convenience store, but they'd gone out of business. The installation was a research outpost; rumor had it some billionaire had it built to run private studies, specifically on alien customs and technology. Sounded interesting enough.

He figured he'd call the number and go from there. What was the worst that could happen? A job was a job.

It didn't take much to get an interview. Looking back, that should've been a red flag, but he missed it entirely. As far as research facilities went, it was a pretty small building, though it was privately owned and not some heavily-funded government project outpost, so it made sense.

Apparently the team was fairly small, too. The interview came from the Project Lead himself. His name was ArJay, a hulk of a guy with unnaturally green glowing eyes. That was enough of a reason to stare, but the most peculiar aspect about this individual was the fact that four black, slick tentacles erupted from his back through crudely-cut holes in the back if his lab coat. The tentacles each held something; in one was a tablet, another had a pen. One held a briefcase and the final one grasped what looked like a first aid kit.

Quirky, definitely anxious, he rattled off a list of general screening questions. The only odd ones were the ones specifically centered on comfort with physical interactions. None of it sounded too bad, maybe a little uncomfortable at best, so Gew signed the agreements and applied for the job.

Usually he'd have waited a few business days before he knew if he would actually be getting the job, but he was hired immediately. They must've really needed volunteers.