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File: 5image.png (176 KB, 639x482)
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You’re Stanley Parble: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a centuries-old lich woke up during your graveyard shift at the Good Boy Doggie Bone factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated.

Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him Ly) AND gained some nifty super powers from eating magical bone marrow, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of Clearwater, California is overrun by homicidal skeletons! Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it. Not cool.

Thankfully you’re not alone! Besides your skeleton you also gained some unlikely allies including Officer Arthur ‘Art’ Berry, a Good Boy Corporate Security goon you took hostage, and your best pal Sybil--occult podcaster and resident magical goth chick. Though she’s currently hiding away in a pocket dimension she found, she still hangs out via the creepy doll in your pocket. Friends like these, right?

There’s also The Trio--a group of skeleton greasers who joined you after losing a bet, but… Well, that’s kinda the issue at the moment. Following up on a lead to track down Rocky, the leader of the skeleton greasers and a lieutenant of the above-mentioned lich, your search led you from the local skeleton-infested Drive-In to your old High School.

Returning to your alma mater, you ended up tangling with a beastly macaroni casserole, a demon disguised as your school mascot, a predatory fairy, and, most importantly, Rocky himself. Just when things were going your way, however, fate decided to dump a bucket of chum on your parade once more--Your skeleton companions betrayed you and now hold you and your pals at gunpoint!

In short, High School still sucks. Your story resumes with the bitter scent of sweat, ash, and gunpowder…

>CONTD.
>>
>>4679562
Welcome to BONES QUEST--take your shoes off and stay a while! Make sure to check out the following resources:
Catch up on previous threads!
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bones%20quest
Twitter account for updates!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3
Imgur Page for quest and fan art!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

STAT BONE-USES (Gained from eating special bone marrow! Nifty!):
>Bone Speed: You’re faster than the average meatbag thanks to stronger tendons and other stuff. You can move quickly and your reflexes are pretty cool too!
>Emu Leg Bones: Leap high, kick harder! Maybe larger toenails, too?
>Beast Claws: Retractable nail claws that allow you to carve, climb, and cling!
>Lil’ Slugger: Harsh practice at the batting cages have made you a demon with bats and bat-like tools. Hit ‘em outta the park!
>Lyd The Way: Talk about an OUT OF BODY experience! Ly can stretch out from your body at a short range to peek around corners! Even better, seems like only magical people can notice him!
>Off The Lysh--There’s a skeleton on the loose--yours! Ly is no longer tethered to your body in his astral form and can scout a few feet away through walls and other obstacles.


Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:
>1 SKULL HOODIE
>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS
>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS
>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES
>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.
>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)
>2 rubber boots
>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.
>1 Dead (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE
>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)
>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)
>1 KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS
>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.
>1 SUPER HELPFUL SKELETON (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)
>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)
>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)
>1 Automated Bone Shaper (ABS) with low battery.
>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.
>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade
>1 SYBIL DOLL (She communicates through it)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 6 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)

Rolls are handled with a 1d100--I take the best of 3. BONUSES AWARDED FOR WRITE-IN CREATIVITY! Discussion, questions, and critiques are highly-appreciated!

>CONTD.
>>
>>4679563
“Sorry to interrupt, Stan, but you’ve done enough.”

You blink just in time to miss the flash of the gunshot.

When you open your eyes again, you find yourself not as dead as you expected. In fact, you don’t feel too bad at all! Staring down at your hands, you wave them around in front of you a few times--what if you were dead? How would you know?!

“Hey pal,” Croaks Rocky’s skull cradled in Gene’s open skeletal palm, “You might wanna try aiming… I dunno… HIGHER?!

A fresh bullet hole sits nestled between your toes, the boxing ring canvas singed around the edges. Glancing up at your ex-pal Gene, all you can do is sputter! What the HELL?!

“Can it, Stan.” Gene hisses, still aiming his revolver at you. “Me and da’ boss gotta talk first.”

Rocky chuckles as Gene looks him in the eyes. “See dis’? ‘Dis is leadership, right here. One second they would die for ya, the next they’re talkin’ terms… Christ…”

Adopting a more serious look, Rocky glares at Gene. “The HELL are you doin’?” He hisses, glancing between you and the skeleton holding him, “We agreed when you and your pals told me about her--negotiations AFTER she’s dead!”

Gene searches Rocky's face with his pitch-black eye sockets.

“You don’t even recognize me, do you?”

Rocky’s skull freezes for a second, then cycles through embarrassment, confusion, and finally utter disbelief.

“No… " He begins, chuckling uneasily, "You’re screwin’ with me, pal…”

Sensing the focus drifting away from you, you quietly back away from the two skeletons as Gene’s gun slowly shifts targets.

Whatever happens, happens.” Gene recites, now pointing the revolver’s muzzle at Rocky’s forehead. “Let’s just have some fun.

“T-that’s…” Rocky sputters, his eye sockets widening in fear.

“The last thing you said to me before the race.” Gene growls. “Before I went over that cliff.”

“Ho-ly CRAP.” Ly whispers, peering over your shoulder in astral form. “What do we DO?”
>Stay silent--they clearly have some catching up to do.
>Butt in--what the HELL is going on here?
>Check on Art--gotta make sure your pals are safe!
>Leave the ring--no sense in sticking around for this.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4679595
>Stay silent--they clearly have some catching up to do.
This is a tough choice. I wanna make sure Art and them are safe, but also I've *gotta* see how this ends. Gene was Cliff the whole time?! That's HUGE- and also why would he hide it from his friends?

Also yay thread 5!
>>
>>4679599
Writing!
>>
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You’re not exactly a Gang Leader Counseling expert, so you decide to take advantage of the fact that no one’s shot anyone yet and step back a little bit, using your MICRO-BUCKET as an impromptu stool.

“Wish we had some popcorn--dis’ is JUICY!” Ly whispers in your ear excitedly. SHHH!

https://youtu.be/ogKTocIFRnY

“You really are him, ain’t ya?” Rocky mutters, his composure now completely washed away.

“Back from the dead.” Replies Ge--err, Cliff? “No thanks to you.”

“How the hell was I supposed ta’ know you’d be back!?” Shouts Rocky, “They never found your body, Cliff, you know I wouldn’t have given up on y--”

“I woke up under a pile of rocks, beer cans, and a COOLER, Rock!” Gene shouts, pressing his revolver against Rocky’s forehead! “I WALKED TO SHORE!”

Your opponent sits quietly in Cliff’s hands, speechless.

“I barely shook the barnacles off before Gene Ponti came outta’ nowhere with a heater!” Cliff continues, jiggling the revolver in his hand. “I watched that kid grow outta diapers, Rock! You know what he told me? The first thing he said?”

Cliff gives Rocky a moment to respond, but he doesn’t get a reply. Flexing his jaw, Cliff continues.

“He told me the game had changed. I didn’t want to believe it, Rock, but here I am wearing the clothes of the kid I killed, pointing a gun at my best friend. So tell me--HAS it changed?”

The skull in Cliff’s hands doesn’t respond. Cliff takes a breath, recovering some of his composure.

“You were my best friend, Rock.”

“I… I didn’t know what to do, Cliff, I--”

“I HEARD!” Cliff snaps, anger once again burning in his voice, “I heard it ALL, Rock. And you know what else?!”

Before the skull can answer, Cliff lowers his gun.

“I think you’re right.” Cliff mutters under his breath. “I shoulda’ been more open-minded. I took a wrong turn somewhere back then… But so did you.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4679772
The two skeletons stare each other down, letting the words seep in.

“And now? Now we’re just two dead relics dancing on someone else’s strings.” Cliff continues, letting his gun hang from his hand. “It’s over, Rock. You know how this has to go.”

Rocky begins to say something, but pauses. “Cliff, I’m… I’m sorry, man.”

“I am too.” Cliff replies. “You know what the dumbest thing is? Despite it all, I can’t bring myself to shoot you.”

“Neither can I...” Rocky mutters. “But THEY CAN!”

Rolling off of the side of Cliff’s hand, Rocky cackles! “Offer still stands, boys! First one ta’ waste Cliffy boy and da’ girl-raccoon FREAK gets da’ whole POT!”

The skull continues to laugh all the way to the end of the ring, but pauses when it realizes no one’s getting up.

“Hey,” Rocky orders, his voice wavering, “I said ‘kill-em’!” Scanning the crowd you notice a whole lot of talking, but not one greaser readying an attack! As the realization settles in, Rocky’s skull begins to shudder!

Cliff glances in your direction, placing a fresh cigarette between his teeth. “Got a light?”

Rising from your bucket, you whip out your lighter and light the cigarette. Taking a long drag, the skeleton looks at you with tired eye sockets.

“Stan…I think it’s time.”

>No rolls--how do you finish off Rocky?
>>
>>4679778
"Pop goes the weasel"
>Stomp on his skull

Also
>Try not to cry thinking about your beloved gang members almost betraying you
>>
>>4679805
+1
>>
Also sidenote unrelated to the current choice, but I think right now our two best bets at learning about this CHOSEN ONE stuff are

1. G.B.D.B. Sure they want to kill us, but they're also clearly the most informed- especially considering everyone was evacuated except for them and they were handling this

2. Human scientist girl. Because she's human, that means old Tibby probably couldn't put his soul in her and control her the same way he can the lieutenants, meaning she can speak freely
>>
>>4679805
>>4679819
Writing!
>>
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With a polite nod to Cliff, you crack your neck and approach Rocky’s skull on the edge of the ring.

“Hey… Hey, hold on now!” Rocky whines, “You’re going after the wrong guy! I can give you more info! I… I can set up a meeting with the boss! I can HELP YO-”

Rocky’s bargaining is interrupted by you placing your boot on top of his skull. Leaning in close, you whisper one last quip where his ears used to be: Pop goes the weasel.

With that, you press down with your foot--hard. With all of the damage from the magic, electricity, and your other attacks, Rocky’s skull crumbles unceremoniously like an overcooked fortune cookie. You look up and scan the crowd for a reaction, but find nothing. The faces you can see through the dim crowd lights seem… Confused.

Lost.

“Guess uh…” Ly begins, “That’s that, then.”

You nod--guess so. Wiping the skull fragments onto the canvas below you, you turn around to find Cliff, still smoking his cigarette.

“...Thanks, Stan.”

A frown forms on your face--he couldn’t have filled you in on his little plan? Two minutes ago you were sure it was GAME OVER!

Cliff stands like a statue, clumps of ash slowly tumbling from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Sorry about that.”

You feel a mixture of emotions well up inside of your head, but you can’t decide which one to stick with! You settle with a sigh, a slow shake of your head, and finally finish off with a light pat on Cliff’s shoulder.

You uh…

“I know, boss.” Cliff answers, still staring off into space. “You’d better grab that marrow before… Well, you know.”

“He’s right, Stan.” Ly adds, mirroring you and placing a spectral hand on your shoulder.

“I get da’ feeling dat’ no one in here’s in da’ mood ta’ chat.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4679968
You approach the remains of Rocky’s body--his bones easy to see with the bright blue puffs of flame slowly devouring them. As you walk over, you notice handfuls of crowd members leaving the auditorium in droves while others stick around.

Rocky’s ‘improvements’ peel away like skin off of fried chicken, revealing a wealth of glowing bones. Glancing back at Cliff, you find him stomping the remains of his cigarette out on the canvas, then returning your gaze.

With a curt nod, he whistles towards where Art was in the crowd, then leans against one of the far turnbuckles.

Looking in the direction he whistled, you feel the weight on your body lighten a bit as Wyatt and Stripes make their way towards the stage, Art and Sybil escorted between them like they were VIPs. A handful of other greasers follow suit, talking amongst themselves as they approach Cliff.

“You good, Stan?” Ly asks, leaning into your view. You nod--just a lot to take in, is all. Nodding, Ly gestures towards Rocky’s body.

“Speaking of ‘taking in’...”

You take a deep breath and nod--yea, time to reap the rewards of this crazy day! The question is, what should you grab?

“Just remember last time.” Ly warns, “I can only handle ONE.”

Okay, you aren’t that forgetful! JEEZ. Let’s see what we’ve got here…
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!
>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!

Gotta build that gang up!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!
God damnit I want the ribs because I know we are stupid and are gonna get our shit kicked in for real. But damn do I want to diplomance some more stupid shit into being.
>>
>>4680042
Yeah basically my line of thinking too lol
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!
Diplomancers begone. Mop gang unite.
>>
BONE-USES don't come very often, so I'm going to keep this decision open until the usual update time tomorrow: 3-4PST. Remember, you can only pick one, so choose wisely! Hope to see you all then!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
My logic is, combat BONE-uses help us obtain more BONE-uses.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4679971
>>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
>>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!

1 = ribs
2 = punchers
>>
>>4679971
>>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
Popping out a new, stronger jawline is pretty horrifying and besides the other lieutenants are a lot less likeable than the greasers
>>
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"You don't even recognize me, do you?"

Had this in my head at work today and had to draw it
>>
I'll close the voting window at 3PM PST--get your friggin' votes in or don't come crying to ME!

Here's the unofficial BONES QUEST theme while you wait:
https://youtu.be/_wiwdlu-Zg0

>>4680960
"Alas, poor Rocky. I knew him, Horatio..."
Love it, man! Always curious to see how people visualize the scenes!
>>
>>4679977
>>4680042
>Mandible!

>>4680091
>PISTONS

>>4680197
>>4680238
>>4680534
>RIBS

Oh shit, what an upset! Start calling Stan 'Chili's', because we've got ribs! Writing!
>>
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As you sift through the bludgeoned and beaten body of the boss, something draws you towards Rocky’s rib cage. Dutifully opening his coat and carving through the white T-Shirt underneath, your efforts are rewarded with a set of pristine ribs glowing with ghostly blue light!

“Hard ta’ believe we’ve taken down two of ‘em in the last day or so…” Ly muses, looking over your shoulder. Hey, yea, at this rate you’ll have this town cleaned up in no time, huh?

“Assuming our luck holds out.” Ly adds. “You ready for ‘dis, cupcake?”

Oh yea--you’ve been itching for some new toys! Cutting two handfuls of ribs free from the rib cage, you peer inside each one to find them all glowing with MAGIC MARROW!

Ignoring the confused and somewhat grossed-out faces of the skeletons still loitering in the gym, you take your time to quaff the contents of each rib. Dropping the last one on the floor of the ring, you finish your feast by cutting the sternum free from the remains of the cage and gulp its contents down too!

The grim feast completed, you decide to take a seat and wait--you remember the last time you tried eating this crap…

“That’s because you tried to eat marrow from two completely different bones, Sta--”

As Ly begins to add another tally to his Lecture Quota, you start to feel a dull ache in your core. Steadying yourself, you instinctually grit your teeth as the ache grows to a sharp, almost electrical pain that slowly begins to radiate out towards the rest of your body!

“Not… AGAIN…” Ly groans, his astral form fading away! As the pain spreads, your discomfort is noticed by several skeletons, including Cliff and your pals! Crap--you can’t let them see you like this or they’ll think you’re a WUSS! Art will never let you live it down--quick, pull it together!

>Roll 1d100 to suck it up, buttercup! I’ll take the best of three rolls! Don’t forget to include any actions you take to prove to your pals and audience that everything’s peachy!
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>4681163
"AhahAHAHAHA, THAT WAS A GOOD JOKE, LY!"

Play it off like we're laughing so hard it hurts
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>4681163
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>4681163
>>4681169
+1 to this
>>
>>4681169
>>4681220
>>4681230
>Highest roll: 64
Cutting it close there! Writing!
>>
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The pain failing to die down, you decide to employ desperate measures! Ignoring a feeling akin to being dipped into a grease fryer, you open your mouth and laugh as hard as you can!

That was a good joke Ly! you’re such a CARD!

Forcing each word out is a task unto itself, and though your bones feel like they’re mining through your flesh and nerves, you manage to avoid crying! Atta’ girl! A group of skeletons pass you on the way out of the gym, disgust on their faces.

“Can you believe dat’ chick? Laughin’ after alla’ dat?”

“Totally ruinin’ da’ pathos of da’ situation… Let’s go, boys.”

Ignoring your critics, you take a moment to catch your breath as the pain across your skeleton gradually fades away. In its place is… Well…

You feel good. DAMN good.

Rising to your feet, you feel a new strength pulsing through your bones--almost a sense of invincibility! Art, come hit me with a chair!

Your erstwhile companions stare at you from across the ring, not sure what to make of you (a look you’re rapidly getting used to). Finishing up a conversation with some unfamiliar greasers, Cliff turns to you and waves you over.

“Hot DAMN!” Ly roars with the energy of a post-snort stockbroker. “That…. That felt even better than the last one, didn’t it?!”

You nod enthusiastically as you cross the ring toward your friends. He can say THAT again! You haven’t felt this good since… Well, ever!

Strutting energetically over to your pals, the gravity of the situation hits you again and a bit of your pep wears off.

“There she is, the star of the show.” Cliff remarks, giving you a slight grin. “Sorry for da’ scare, kid.” He, Wyatt, and Stripes idle around the turnbuckle, visible confusion cemented on the latter’s face.

You’re the one who should be apologizing--you just ate his best friend’s RIBS. Is uh… Is he gonna be okay?

Cliff responds with a shrug. “Emotionally? Yea. Him turnin’ on us even in da’ end soured the deal a bit. Also you learn not to dwell on things too long after you’ve died--I’ll get over it.”

“And your… friends?” Sybil adds, the doll peeking into the huddle from Art’s shoulder. “What do you intend to do next?”

“That’s, uh…” Cliff replies, glancing at the ceiling, “That’s a problem that’ll take more than a night ta’ iron out…”

“You still need me to hit you with a chair, Stan?” Art asks, a twinkle in his eye.

Looks like the gang’s all here for the first time in a while--what do?
>Wyatt, Stripes, what do YOU think of all this?
>What’s the plan for now, Cliff?
>Are you two okay, Art and Sybil?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4681315
>Wyatt, Stripes, what do YOU think of all this?
>Are you two okay, Art and Sybil?

Let's get a feel for the crowd, and try to console everyone or make things work to the best of our gremlin abilities.
>>
>>4681320
>>4681315
+1
>>
>>4681320
>>4681352
Check in with Wyatt and Stripes, then the meatbags, gotcha. WRITING!
>>
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That’s Cliff’s feelings on the situation settled, but what about his pals? Wyatt stands at Cliff’s side, stoic as always, while Stripes looks like someone just told him that Santa isn’t real or something crazy like that!

“Good fightin’, Stan.” Wyatt grunts, looking down at you with the biggest smile he can muster, which isn’t very big. You grin back, but can’t help but feel a little odd doing it--are they uh… Are they cool with the big reveal? Wyatt shrugs.

“Guessed it when we were drivin’ to da’ Drive-In.”

Of course he did. Shaking your head, you turn to Stripes--clearly he wasn’t in on it, right?

“I uh…” Stripes mutters, at a loss for words for the first time in his unlife, “I guess I’m… Whaddaya call it? Conflicted?

Constricted, you correct.

“No, he was right the first time.” Sybil counters in her teacher's voice.

“Conflicted, dat’s it.” Stripes nods. “I mean, I was always a fan of Cliff--” He explains, awkwardly glancing at the man himself standing next to him. “But I never really knew him ‘dat well. Was never dat’ high up on da’ totem pole, ya know?”

Sure--you’ve never met your boss either. It’s all a plot by The Man to keep the blinders on the horse, A.K.A the working man!

A panorama of looks from your friends prompts you to explain further--that’s what your uncle always says, at least!

“Anyways…” Stripes continues, shrugging off your excuse, “I’m happy. Rocky got what he deserved and if anyone can put us all back together it’s dis’ lug right here.” Stripes chuckles, grabbing Cliff’s shoulder and playfully shaking it.

What about the real Gene, though? Stripes’ expression darkens a bit.

“I’m… Ya know… I’m sad to hear he’s gone. When we first popped outta da’ dirt he an’ Wyatt were da’ first guys I tried ta’ track down.” Cliff offers Stripes a cigarette, which he graciously accepts and lights.

“Rocky changed him, though,” Stripes continues, “Made him meaner. Like a dog ya’ train to fight or somethin’--it just learns it gets treats as long as it hurts somethin’.”

Still doesn’t explain why he just up and attacked Cliff though, does it? The Trio shrug simultaneously.

“It was chaos in da’ beginnin’.” Wyatt states, staring off in the distance. “Was a free-for-all for a while before Rocky rounded us up.”

“Gene’s sadistic streak probably didn’t help.” Stripes adds. “So while I’m glad he didn’t kill Cliffy here, I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t gonna miss da’ guy...”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4681440
Speaking of sadistic, they couldn’t have given you or Syb a heads-up or anything?! You almost cried back there!

“Really?” Art asks, his interest piqued.

No! You meant like… Cried in RAGE--DUH!

“If it makes ya feel any better, we warned Artie and Syb here before we took out da’ heaters!” Stripes grins. “We got through ta’ Rocky da’ minute we made it here--fed ‘em all sorts of bullshit about ya. Plan went off without a hitch!”

Hey, that’s great! Must have been awkward talking to Rocky then, huh Cliff? The skeleton in the jean jacket shrugs, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Didn’t talk to him--that was all these two idiots’ doing.” He explains, pointing his cigarette at Wyatt and Stripes.

“Felt starstruck.” Wyatt grunts. “Never got ta’ talk ta’ Rocky much.”

Yea, must have been a wild conversation you two had, you joke, elbowing Wyatt.

“Eh. He shared somma’ dat ‘school records’ stuff about you too.”

You almost have to shove your eyes back into their sockets! Say WHAT!?!

“Jokin’.” Wyatt grunts. “Or am I?” He adds, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Damn it!

“We’ve decided to help dis’ hopeless sonnovabitch here get everything workin’ again.” Stripes continues, cocking his head towards Cliff. “He’s already got a few guys spreadin’ da’ word of new ownership--hopefully things’ll change without a hitch.”

And if they don’t?

“Then we’ll respond accordingly.” Cliff answers, cracking his neck menacingly. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re done roundin’ up humans.”

“The lich won’t take that on the nose.” Sybil remarks. “What if he decides to de-animate you all?”

Cliff shrugs, taking another drag from the cigarette. “We’ll just keep doin’ what we’re doin--actin’ busy. If he comes around for a checkup, well…” Cliff stares upwards, contemplating quietly. “We’ll just say we’re pickin’ up where Rocky left off.”

You can’t help but frown--what would Tim do? Nothing good, that’s for sure.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cliff interjects, putting your thoughts momentarily at ease. “You’ve got enough stuff on your shoulders.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4681443
Well that’s a relief--you were a little worried when you didn’t run into them before the fight!

“You were the ones we were worried about!” Stripes chuckles, “When we heard about dat’ convoy gettin’ torn up, well…”

Good Boy bit off more than it could chew.” Sybil remarks, looking at you with pride in her doll eyes. “Stan’s been rather busy since we left the Drive-In. Our hero.”

You feel the temperature rise in your cheeks. Psssh, stop it, oh my god

With a hasty clearing of your throat, you regain authority and turn to your fleshy pals. A-ANYWAYS, how are THEY doing?

“Can’t complain.” Art replies, rubbing his mask lenses with his glove. “Not the first time I’ve been held hostage.”

Shut up, idiot. Sybil, how are you?

“I’m just upset that I couldn’t help more.” Sybil replies, a glum look on her doll face. “Cliff and the others formed an excellent plan, however.”

“All dat’ milk didn’t hurt our confidence either!” Stripes adds, slapping his hand on his nonexistent bicep. “Which reminds me, Cliff, we gotta figure out what ta’ do wit’ da’ rest…”

“Yea, yea…” Cliff drones, waving Stripes’ concerns away. “We’ll talk more once these kids are settled.”

You raise an eyebrow. What does he mean?

“Well for starters, we owe you.” Cliff explains, finishing his cigarette. “We’re in no condition ta’ start pickin’ fights wit’ the other boneheads, but in the short-term we can at least give ya’ a good night’s rest. No one here is gonna touch ya, you've got my word.”

You feel your eyes getting heavy as he finishes his sentence. Come to think of it you DO feel pretty beat even WITH the marrow…

“We haven’t slept since da’ tree dis’ mornin’, cupcake,” Ly reminds you, “Not exactly a Five-Star accommodation!”

“I wouldn’t mind some downtime either…” Art adds, stretching his back.

“I agree.” Sybil adds. “If I have some time to regain my strength I’ll be much more effective. We can also decide on our next move.”

“That’s settled,” Cliff concludes, “You can either rest at school tonight or Wyatt can drop ya’ off somewhere.”

“Be a pleasure.” Wyatt grunts. Your human entourage looks at you expectantly--guess it’s up to you!

>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
>Thanks, but we should hit the road--we can rest later.
>Wyatt, can you drop us off at (WRITE-IN)?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4681446
>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
>>
>>4681446
>Wyatt, can you drop us off at (WRITE-IN)?

There we can
>Put our phone in rice and maybe charge it- having a way to talk to Sybil and Art from afar as well as check the internet will be huge
>Look for things we might have around the house that would be a big help

Also we should probably tell Sybil that stuff about the southern wards our fairy friend mentioned
>>
>>4681471
Just realized I forgot the write in part

>Drop us off at our apartment
>>
Gonna let this vote go a while longer--kind of a big decision for a tiebreaker!
>>
>>4681446
>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
There's definitely a Good Boy ambush at our apartment.
>>
>>4681471
+1
Though do you mean sybils apartment? And also we should remind sybil to strengthen that ward that faerie mentioned. But Yeah I agree fixing our phone and scrounging Sybils junk nest is a good idea.
>>
>>4681667
I meant ours since we haven't visited it since the start. It came to mind since one of our items is 'KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS'

That being said though, as much as I wanna see Stan's place and get all that fixed, >>4681636 makes a really good point.

I'll change my vote to staying at school, but I still think we should relay that thing about the wards to Sybil
>>
Looks like we've just about got a consensus here--thanks for going the extra distance and being patient! Work's a bit busier this morning than I expected, so I'll whip up a fresh batch of updates around 3-4PM PST. TGIF!
>>
>>4681454
>>4681870
>>4681636
>School Sleepover!!!

>>4681667
>Syb's apartment

Writing!
>>
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You’ll be honest--you’re starting to miss sleeping in your own bed at your own safe and familiar apartment. So much, in fact, that part of you wants to tell Wyatt to take you there right now so that you can curl up with a game of RAZE and something alcoholic. Sybil could clean your room like she always does while Art… Hm.

Art could stay outside! There you go!

The more you consider the plan, however, the worse it sounds--for starters, you’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do--it’s been a while since you had pals over and you don’t want to give Sybil or Art another reason to give you shit, especially if they see what’s on your computer! No, that won’t do at all...

There’s also the unsettling possibility that your enemies know where you live and are waiting for you to return home... Now that you think about it, that’s probably the biggest reason right there.

That said, it’s been ages since you’ve passed out at school! You’ve been wanting to do this legally for ages! Also if what Cliff says is true, this is probably the safest place in Clearwater for you right now, so…

You answer Cliff with an enthusiastic nod--break out the sleeping bags and marshmallows, we’re spendin’ the night!! The greaser can’t help but smirk at your enthusiasm, then nods.

“Solid. There are a few beds in the nurse’s office--those are probably your best bet for some proper shuteye. Pretty sure there are emergency blankets and other crap in storage if you feel like catchin’ some ‘Z’s somewhere else.”

“Just gimme a holler when yer’ ready,” Wyatt adds, “An’ I’ll keep watch outside in case anybody tries anything.”

“How uh,” Art begins, “How plausible do you think that is?”

Cliff responds with a shrug. “Like I said before--word’s spreading dat’ I’m in charge now and not ta’ harm you. Can’t guarantee some dumbass won’t try something, but I know a lotta’ these guys--if I say watch out for Stan, they’ll watch out for ya.”

>CONTD.
>>
>>4682533
“This oughta’ give ya’ piece of mind.” Stripes remarks, handing you a small walkie-talkie. “Long-range. Some of Rocky’s guys were usin’ em ta’ communicate--as long as you stick wit’ channel 9 you can give us a holler any time!”

Stuffing the RADIO into your pockets, you give a quick ‘thanks’ to The Trio, then turn to Art. What’s his plan?

“I might stay up a little longer.” He replies, looking around the gym. “Didn’t really get a tour of the place.”

“I might investigate the library, myself.” Sybil reports, floating away from Art’s shoulder. “Maybe I can learn a bit more about that ‘Chosen One’ business.”

Totally. Oh, and maybe she can take a look at her Southern Wards while she’s at it. Sybil stares at you like you just dropped a dog carcass on her dining table.

“E-excuse me?”

No big deal, that fairy you were talking about earlier mentioned checking up on them. Before you can finish your sentence, Sybil’s doll tumbles to the floor, lifeless.

“Fairy?” Stripes asks. Long story!

A few seconds later, the doll roars to life again, its face looking pretty haggard for a doll.

“... Change of plans. I’m going to do some more research on the Fae.”

Ha ha, what a dweeb! Giving Sybil an affectionate pat on the head, you turn around and survey the gym for yourself.

“Whaddaya think, cupcake?” Ly asks, “You wanna do some stuff before bedtime?”

Besides the options your pals brought up, you also formulate a few activities of your own: the SHOWERS in the dressing rooms probably work if you wanted to freshen up after today’s trials.

There’s also that quiet spot on the ROOF you could head up to if you wanted to chill for a bit--who knows, maybe someone could join you!

Of course there’s also plenty of EXPLORING to do as well--you haven’t been here in ages and it would be neat to check out some of the classrooms without getting yelled at for once!

What’s FIRST on your agenda?
>Absolutely NOTHING. BEDTIME.
>Show ART SOME OF THE SCHOOL(WRITE-IN CLASS)
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>ROOF TRIP!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682535
>ROOF TRIP!

Let's get introspective before bed!
>>
>>4682535
>ROOF TRIP!
>>
>>4682549
>>4682592
To the roof!

Writing!
>>
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Pfft, you’ll sleep when you’re dead. You’re goin’ for a trip to the roof!

“You’re going to trip off the roof?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

No, you’re going to take a trip TO the roof! Jeez…

“To be fair it DID happen before!” Sybil adds helpfully, “Watch your step around the edge, please, Stan.”

Yes mother. Man, you’ve been acting competent the whole day--they can’t trust you to hang out on the roof for a bit?

“You are kinda accident-prone.” Art counters. “What’s so cool about the roof anyways?”

Well for one, it’s a roof. Way up high, nice view of the sky and the town? You used to head up there a lot and drink after football games.

Art and the rest nod sagely.

“Ahh, so that’s how you tripped.”

No! You were sober for that! Whatever, you dorks wouldn’t get it!

“Just holler in the radio if you need us, kid.” Stripes reminds you. “Watch out for UFOs!”

Man, don’t even joke about that…
--------------------------------------------------------------
You know the path to the roof like the back of your hand, so finding your way isn’t exactly difficult.

“Da’ maintenance workers used it ta’ clean da’ leaves an’ balls offa’ da roof.” Ly reminds you, floating at your side. Yea, that was it! You remember being so stoked the minute you found out about it--it was like your own private pocket like Sybil has, especially after dark!

“Not always.” Ly chuckles, “Remember dat’ one time dose’ seniors came up after da’ game? Awkward!”

Oh shit, how could you forget? And they gave you crap for ‘peeping on them’! Hope tonight’s a little less crowded!

You pass by the stairwell and make for the unmarked door near the gym--the stairwell led to the shitty part of the roof, the one where all of the normal losers hung out. The school put a better lock on once they caught wind of it being used for fun, so why even bother? The pros went the other way--much more private!

Your door opens without a hitch--a curtain of dust falls as light peers into the room for the first time in who knows how long, but you’re relieved to see your old pal The Ladder still ascending to the ceiling above!

Closing the door behind you, you approach the bottom rungs of the ladder and wipe a bit of dust off before beginning your ascent--you don’t want to survive all of this and then die because you slipped!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4682674
You feel the chilly air long before you manage to lever the heavy trapdoor open at the top of the ladder. Suppressing a shiver, you creep off of the ladder and out onto the roof, carefully closing the door behind you.

https://youtu.be/G3LDWN9gzpQ

You feel the wind tug at your body like it was telling you to hurry along. With a good-natured chuckle you take your time traversing the flat, tar-paved roof, letting the cold night air tickle your face.

Looking outwards at the town, you’re surprised to find that most of the fires have gone out. In their place are rows of dark silhouettes against the ashen night sky--buildings with no lights on. Craning your head towards the distance, all you can hear is the periodic blow of the evening breeze--no gunshots, no cars, not even the shouting of the greasers in the school below.

You take a seat against a section of air ducts near the edge, stretching your back as your senses relish their chance to rest for once. For the first time in hours you finally get a chance to relax--just the roof, the breeze, You, and...

> Ly, but he’ll be quiet if you ask nicely!
>Sybil. Wait, did she FLOAT all the way up?!
>Art. How did he find this place?
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!
>Someone or something else entirely (WRITE-IN)!
>>
>>4682677
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!

Did not handle my alcohol well tonight, apologies for delay in reading and responding
>>
>>4682677
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!
>>
>>4682761
>>4682788
One of the trio, but WHO!? Writing!
>>
As you relax and take in the view, you can’t help but get the feeling that you aren’t alone--that the roof isn’t as empty as you thought.

Scanning the area for the source of the disturbance, you almost recoil when you see a familiar jean-jacketed skeleton sitting on the edge of the roof a few feet away! Taking in the view of lightless Clearwater with the usual cigarette hanging limply from his fingers, you can’t help but wonder whether he came up here before you, after, or around the same time.

It then hits you how little you know about Cliff--not even an hour ago he was Gene, and not even an hour ago you thought he was about to betray you! What’s his DEAL anyways?!

As if sensing your thoughts, the skeleton takes a break from the view to glance straight at you! DAMN HE’S GOOD!

“You good, Stan?”

You stick your hands into your pockets for warmth and stare down at him. Is he? What’s he doing up here anyways?

With his trademark shrug, Cliff rises to his feet and climbs your way, pompadour blowing in the evening breeze. Seconds later he parks himself next to you and stares you down.

“You said you were headed for the roof--Thought I’d steal your idea.”

He glances at an empty spot next to you.

“Can I sit?”

You nod, prompting him to take a seat next to you. For a few moments neither of you say anything--instead focusing on the rare view in front of you.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?”

You take a moment to think about it before you respond--yea, it kinda is. Cliff grunts in assent, taking a drag from his cigarette.

And that’s it. You wait for more exposition--more talk, but the guy says nothing. Is this a good time to ask him questions, or should you just enjoy the moment? Damn it, you came up here to get away from this stuff!

>Just enjoy the silence--he can break it if he wants to.
>Don’t you have some leading to do?
>How’d you find this place?
>What do you think about all of this?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682839
>WRITE-IN
"I'm really glad you didn't betray me. No matter what you do after tonight, you, Wyatt, and Stripes are my friends as far as I'm concerned. If there's uh, anything I can do, just let me know. You know, as your former gang leader and all'
>>
>>4682851
Writing!
>>
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As you let the cold air wash over you, a thought grows inside your head--tonight could have been it. If not you, then maybe Art…

Or even one of The Trio.

You glance at Cliff again and study his bony face--it’s a lot harder reading people when they don’t have skin or muscles, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s because of what happened today, or maybe your rooftop hideout is making you sentimental, but whatever the reason you feel compelled to break the silence.

‘I’m really glad you didn’t betray me, Cliff.’

Like a magic spell, Cliff’s trance breaks as the words leave your mouth. The greaser watches you with interest, waiting for you to continue.

‘No matter what you do after tonight, you, Wyatt, and Stripes are my friends as far as I’m concerned.’

For a second you almost feel a change in Cliff’s eye sockets as they observe you through clouds of cigarette smoke.

“Likewise, Stan.”

The two of you nod to each other, but no other words come out. As Cliff begins to survey the distance again, you continue.

‘If there’s uh… Anything I can do, just let me know.’

That gets his attention. The greaser abandons the view for a second to look at you again, an amused look forming on his face.

You know, you begin, as your former gang leader and all.

“The heck are ya’ talkin’ about?” Cliff responds, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “Nothing’s changed, boss.”

You blink. That’s uh… Wait, what? Still smiling, Cliff takes another puff from his cigarette as his gaze returns to the city.

“Just think of it as… Delegation. You’ve got enough on your plate--let me do the worryin’ about these greaseballs.”

You begin to respond, but pause as the meaning of his words dawns on you, a smile forming on your face.

“I’m happy too.” Cliff continues, avoiding your gaze. “After everything us boneheads have done, you had no reason ta’ come over and play dice wit’ us.”

You nod--he’s uh… He’s not wrong.

“Why, though?” He asks, turning towards you. “You coulda’ tore us to shreds, probably. Why didn’t you?”

Cliff stares you in the eye, waiting for an answer. Why INDEED?
>Talking seemed easier than fighting.
>There’s still some humanity in you guys, right?
>Strategy. Didn’t want other skeletons to hear the noise.
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682970
>The voices told me to beause they like playing diplomancers!
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.
>>
>>4682970
>There’s still some humanity in you guys, right?
>>
Getting pretty tired and the booze is wearing off--I'll check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST to see if we've reached a consensus, otherwise I'll just flip a coin! Seeya then!
>>
>>4682970
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest. I guess it just felt like the right move at the time. You guys might be dead, but you're still people.
>>
>>4682990
+1 on the spoilered option
>>
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Just started this quest and think it’s gucci af. So gucci that I’m dropping this bad boy— erm, girl... right in your thread.
>>
>>4682970
Alright as the guy who made the roll that landed us the skeleboys, allow me to comment
>"I wanted to play some dice, and had a feeling that you wouldn't back down. It seems like it was a good feeling after all."
>>
>>4683124
>>4683202
+1 to either of these
>>
>>4683166
I'll tell you what IS Gucci--this FANART! Thanks for reading, anon--hope you stick around and continue to enjoy! Are you a QM, by chance? Your art style reminds me of Siren_QM's.

>>4682990
>>4683043
>>4683124
>>4683149
>>4683202
>>4683235
I'm gonna try to blend some of these together--sorry for the late start! Got caught up cooking breakfast and you know how it goes...
>>
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How do you explain your actions? You’ve always lived by your ‘Go With the Flow’, ‘Rock-and-Roll’, ‘Take-No-Prisoners’ lifestyle, but now that someone is actively calling you out on your actions…

Well, introspection hasn’t always been your thing.

Part of you wants to suggest that your actions aren’t your own--ever since your night shift at Good Boy you can’t help but feel… Guided. Perhaps even compelled?

Or maybe that’s just you trying to wiggle out of taking responsibility for your actions--the ‘invisible watchers’ excuse certainly didn’t work for you in Middle School, why would it make sense now?

Panic settling in, you decide to just start talking--maybe something poignant will come out!

‘I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.’

SHIT. Adjust heading by 48 degrees and hold! We can save this!

’I guess it just felt like the right move at the time. You guys might be dead, but you’re still people--I wanted to play some dice and thought you guys wouldn’t back down--you seemed human enough.’

Cliff takes a moment to sift through your word vomit, his face more indecipherable than before. A fresh gust of cool wind blows along the roof as you both sit there thinking about what’s been said.

“Just when I think I’ve got ya’ figured out…” Cliff begins, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, “You prove me wrong, kid.”

You’re about to apologize when Cliff holds out a finger, silencing you. “You make some interestin’ choices and the jury’s still out on what’s goin’ on in your head, but you’ve got heart, Stan. And that’s gonna kill you as a leader.”

You can’t help but blink, confused. What’s that mean?

“Ain’t a bad thing, but it ain’t an easy thing either.” Cliff explains, “They always say the hardest part of bein’ a leader’s the decision-making. You know, choosing who lives, who dies, all that jazz.”

You nod. You almost had a heart attack when Art and Syb were held at gunpoint! Cliff shakes his head, taking another puff from his cigarette.

“The hardest part, kid, is that no matter how hard you try, or how much you plan, when you’re a leader you’ll always have people revvin’ their engines to take a bullet for you--and no matter who does it, it’s always gonna leave a mark--even if you’re a miserable bastard like Rocky was.”

Finishing his smoke, Cliff flicks the butt off of the roof and watches it disappear into the inky blackness below.

“One leader to another--keep an eye on the people who follow you. One of these days you’re gonna get into trouble and it’s one of them that’s gonna take da’ hit for you.”

You meditate on his words as Cliff produces another smoke from his pocket.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4683751
“And while we’re on the subject,” He continues, lighting a fresh cigarette, “let me share an old’ East Clearwater sayin’: “Talk sweet, punch hard”. Get me?”

Sorta… He’s saying to be strong and cute, right?

“Not exactly.” Cliff chuckles, grinning your way. “No, I mean be careful who you try to be nice to. You got lucky with me and the boys--imagine what woulda’ happened if your pals really were held at gunpoint and we did betray you.”

You don’t exactly want to! If that hadn’t worked out the way it did, well…

Sensing your thoughts, Cliff lightly rests his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t dwell on it, kid, learn from it. Never gonna dodge a punch if you’re starin’ at a bruise.”

Something about those words click in your head--like you’ve heard something similar before...

He almost sounds like your brother.

“Hope dat’s a compliment.” Cliff remarks, staring at the night sky. Rising to his feet, the greaser looks down at you.

“You’ll do alright. Just think about what I said and don’t leave your pals with undead delinquents.”

Tousling your hair, Cliff gives you one last cryptic look, then heads towards where you found him.

“Didn’t mean ta’ interrupt your siesta--we’ll talk more in da’ mornin’.”

Hold on, is there anything else you wanna DO or SAY before he leaves?
>ONE MORE THING! (WRITE-IN)
>Nah, let him go
>>
>>4683756
>Nah, let him go

Cliff is based as hell
>>
>>4683765
Hit the road, Jack!

Writing!
>>
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You utter a quick ‘thanks!’ as the leader of the greasers leaves, giving you one last wave as he goes. As you hear the thump of the trap door opening and closing, you sit there for a moment to mull over what Cliff told you.

“Dat’ was cute, cupcake. ‘You almowwst sound wike my bruduuh’!” Ly teases in a falsetto voice. Shut the hell up, creep--he could have added to the conversation if he was bored!

“Nah, I figured you could use some one-on-one time.” Ly replies, grinning. “Sounds like he’s lookin’ out for us after all.”

Seems that way. Your gaze slowly returns to the view in front of you, your eyes stinging from the cold air.

“Dis’ view really is somethin’, though.” Ly adds, taking a seat next to you. It’s definitely something when there’s no lights, huh?

“I wonder,” Ly begins, “How’s dis’ all gonna end, anyways?”

When you cave Tim’s skull in, duh. Ly shakes his astral head.

“Nah, I mean… Assumin’ we succeed, den’ what? Do all da’ skeletons go away? Do they stick around?”

You uh… You hadn’t really thought about that. If it’s anything like vampires, well… Once Tim goes, they all go. Would certainly clean up the town.

“Stan…” Ly begins, staring at you, “Will uh… D’ya think I’m gonna disappear?”

You hope not--you’d be pretty useless without your bones! Ly shakes his head again, an unusual tone in his voice,

“You know what I mean, Stan. Me. Da’ guy talkin’ to ya’ right now.”

Christ, you just wanted to get some AIR--are Syb and Art waiting their turns down the ladder too?! What do you say?

>You’ll stick around, Ly, don’t worry.
>I uh… I think you’ll disappear too, pal.
>Necromancy works in mysterious ways…
>I don’t know--guess it depends on how this plays out.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4683972
>WRITE-IN
>"You said you were with me before, you'll be here with me after."
>>
>>4683991
+1
>>
>>4683991
+1. We'll make sure to drink more milk to show him we care when this is all said and done
>>
>>4683972
>>4683991
+1
>>
>>4683991
>>4683992
>>4684019
>>4684021
Writing!
>>
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A grin forms on your face and you lightly punch through Ly’s astral shoulder. What’s he worried about?

“Come on, Stan--I mean it..”

And so do you! He said he was with you before, he’d better believe he’ll be around after! Hell, whatever happens you’ll only go for calcium-rich stuff when all this is done--THAT’S how much you care! Ly stares at you for a moment, speechless.

Then wraps his spectral arms around you in a hug.

“Thanks, Stan.”
Making sure you aren’t being watched by anyone, you gingerly wrap an arm around Ly. It isn’t easy with him being a projection, and all, but you feel good regardless.

A few moments later, you and your skeleton awkwardly separate, clearing your throats and adjusting your seating.

“Not a word to da’ others, yea?” Ly asks.

Not a WORD.

Taking in the view a little longer, you shake the cold off of your body and rise to your feet--if you stay here any longer you’re bound to pass out right here!

“Anything else we oughta do?” Ly asks, floating next to you. Not much... You maybe have enough energy for ONE more activity before hitting the sack....
>VISIT an area in the school(WRITE-IN CLASS or ROOM (Ex. Library, Garage, Etc.))
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>BED time. You don’t want Art to get the best bed, right?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684098
>>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>>
>>4684098
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>>
>>4684098
>VISIT an area in the school(WRITE-IN CLASS or ROOM (Ex. Library, Garage, Etc.))
Let's try and find a book about those druidic ruins, maybe we can get some sweet knowledge
>>
>>4684119
Sorry, forgot to mention
>VISIT the Library
>>
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>>4683687
>Are you a QM, by chance? Your art style reminds me of Siren_QM's.


It's weird. A lot of people tell me my art style reminds them of Siren's-- it's really weird, I'll tell you that. Not at all fishy or nothin...' Heh. Fishy.

It's almost as if... we're the exact same person.

Totally crazy, amirite?
>>
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>>4684098

Voting even though I have no clue what's happening at this point. Still got 4.5 threads until I'm caught up

>>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!

>>4684144

Also gonna leave the original, unscreentoned version of this here cause ink is rad af and the details are a bit easier to see.
>>
>>4684144
I fucking KNEW it. Thanks for checking this one out! Full disclosure, I gotta catch up with yours too--was following it for a while, then lost track of shit when I moved. Hope your hiatus isn't for much longer! I posted your stuff on the IMGUR with your tag attached--thanks again for making it and I hope you make it through the 4.5 other threads!

>>4684113
>>4684118
>>4684186
>Wash away your SINS

>>4684127
>Having fun isn't hard when you've got a library card

WRITING!
>>
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Taking one last look at the dead city from the roof, you quietly make your way back down the way you came up. With luck Syb is continuing her nerd shit in the library--she should have the 411 about everything tomorrow morning. Hopefully over eggs and bacon.

Art is…

Well, Art is probably either getting lost and confused or pissing someone off. The guy needs to learn to be more independent, though, so you resolve to let him handle stuff by himself. Can’t have you always coming to the rescue, after all!

“So where are we goin’, then?” Ly asks, joining you in your climb down the ladder.

You, and ONLY you, are going to wash today off. It’s been hours since Sybil’s apartment and you’ve got a fresh layer of sweat, ash, and gunpowder all over you--the girl’s changing room in the gym will do the trick.

“Place’ll be all yours, huh?” Ly asks.

Duh! No such thing as a female greaser, Ly!

A pack of greaser skeletons wearing tight leather pants, jackets, lipstick, and stiletto heels stare daggers at you as you pass by. Man, these greasers have some weird style!

---------------------------------------------------------
It doesn’t take long for you to reach the gym again. Several pods of greasers loiter in the halls talking amongst themselves, throwing dice, smoking, etc. The ones that stare at you do so with a much less menacing energy--maybe Cliff really CAN get these guys under control!

“Guess we’ll have ta’ wait an’ see…” Ly replies.

Speaking of guys under control, HE can wait outside! You hover near the entrance to the girl’s shower room, pointing down the hall.

“Yea, yea…Knock yourself out.” Ly mutters, drifting away. With a triumphant grin you duck into the shower room and flick the light switch revealing rows upon rows of benches and lockers. With an annoyed sigh, you begin the painstaking process of checking each row for skeletons, demons, mutants, or Art.

Coast CLEAR.

Compared to the rest of the school, the girl’s shower room is surprisingly cleaner than you expected--guess the boneheads were too squeamish to come in to wreck the place! In fact, this almost looks better than you remember--did they REDO this whole thing?!

Examining the shower stalls, you confirm your suspicions--yep, these are all new. Lockable doors, clean drains, holders for toiletries--Kinda lame that you didn’t get these when you were a student here, but it seems to have worked out for you in the end!

Loitering near a particularly nice shower stall, it suddenly dawns upon you that none of these showers have any supplies in them.

DAMN IT.

What do?
>Shower anyways--you can just shake off like a dog after.
>Scour the lockers for a towel or something!
>Screw it, you don’t need to shower anyways.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684312
>Scour the lockers for a towel or something!
>>
>>4684312
>WRITE IN
10,000IQ plan incoming

We'll use the TIN of Dr. Harrington's Hair Wrangler Pomade as shampoo. That stuff was meant to go in hair anyway, so it should do the trick!

As for a towel, we'll unscrew the head of our TELESCOPING MOP and use that. It's great at absorbing water!
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4684312

>1 = scour the lockers
>2 = 10000 IQ plan
>>
>>4684319
>"Oh hey, this sound reasonable!"

>>4684322
>>4684349
>https://youtu.be/_8ma8adKm4I

Never change, /qst/. You have all brought so much joy to my dreary life these past few months... Writing!
>>
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You’re tired! You don’t have the ENERGY or TIME to go on a scavenger hunt looking for items in these lockers--they’re probably full of mold… Or worse, COSMETICS! You’ll be here for EONS if you start becoming self-conscious and start experimenting with looks--best to let sleeping dogs lie!

Thankfully, this isn’t the first and certainly won’t be the last time you’ve had to improvise shower supplies, and it just so happens you have plenty of replacements for those overly-expensive shampoos, body washes, and towels!

Come one, come all: THIS IS SAVING WITH STAN!

Actually, never mind--if someone actually hears you talking they might investigate and that’ll be awkward as hell--you decide to just prepare QUIETLY!

https://youtu.be/wyz_2DEah4o

Okay, so don’t have body wash--no problem! Filling your MICROBUCKET with HAND SOAP from the sinks solves that problem! The RUBBER BOOTS you’ve been carrying around serve as excellent foot protectors too--suck on THAT, foot fungus!

Parking your TELESCOPING MOP outside the stall, you unscrew the top for use in drying off later--good thing the FLAMMABLE OIL left on it from the fight with Nico’s basically all dried up!

For the piece de resistance, you bring the tin of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade into the stall--styling is basically washing, right?

Surveying your jerry-rigged shower ensemble, you can’t help but nod approvingly. Stan: 1,000,000, Body Care Industry: ZIP!

Looks like you’re all set! Stripping down, you triumphantly step into the stall and crank the water. Time for some pre-bed relaxaAAAAUUGH, COoOoOOLD!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4684506
https://youtu.be/Lgbv4PranP0
After getting over the initial shock from the cold water, you slowly adjust to the temperature and get to cleanin’. Though it’s nowhere near as refreshing as the one you took earlier today at Sybil’s apartment, you’d be lying if it didn’t hit the spot! Plus Ly didn’t have to follow you in this time, so you finally get a chance to get some peace and quiet!

As the warm water runs through your hair and down your body, your mind wanders aimlessly. Rocky’s deader than disco, sure, but what about the other lieutenants? Who should you go after next? Hell, should you even go after one? Rocky might have been a jerk til’ the end, but you find it hard to believe he’d lie about your employers.

Scooping up some hand soap from your trusty MICROBUCKET, you continue to contemplate your situation as you begin scrubbing. Good Boy might not be behind it all, or maybe they are--whatever the answer is, you should probably try to track one of those security stations Art was talking about down--maybe those might have the answers you need, or at the very least a clue.

But what about the lieutenants? The Cowboy supposedly hangs around Joplin--that old ghost town you used to go on field trips to. The Pirate and his crew supposedly hang out on the coast, but that talk of there being a SEA DEMON makes you a little hesitant about going into open water… Plus you forgot to bring a swimsuit, so too bad!

Speaking of, the goons in the Sea Witches’ employ apparently visited the museum. If there really is an Atlantis exhibit there, couldn’t there be something of use in getting to the underwater city? You hope so.

There’s also The General--Rocky’s favorite. His men currently occupy Central Clearwater--conveniently the area where both the Police Station and the National Guard Depot are. Weird how easily they took that part over!

And then there’s the other oddities. The fairy. The mascot demon you fought. The human scientist working with Tim and her spooky creation you haven’t had the pleasure of running into yet! Questions are just piling up and here you are washing your HAIR!

This pomade stuff is nice, though--smells like eucalyptus!

You linger a bit longer under the warm stream of water, then shut down the water.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4684508
Snatching the head of your mop from outside of the stall, you begin the painstaking process of drying off. By the time you work your way up to your hair, you notice that it feels more… Well, MOLDABLE! In fact, you think you could maybe give your hair a NEW STYLE!

>Time to get creative! Describe Stan’s new hairstyle a

But you don’t. Rubbing the remaining product out of your hair, you tousle your hair into its trademark ‘messy’ state--you don’t want to have to style it every time you take a shower--no one’s THAT creative!

Retrieving your clothes from the floor, you put everything back on and check your pockets for any missing items--nope, still there. In fact, you still have some POMADE left over--you stow that in your pockets. As for the MOP HEAD, you place it back onto your TELESCOPING MOP with a satisfying ‘click’. Back in the saddle.

Your body radiating with warmth, you think you’re FINALLY ready to hit the sack! Not a moment too soon, either--it’s getting close to midnight!

As you turn to leave the room, something tugs at your mind--did you want to do anything else before heading to the Nurse’s Office?
>Nah, time for bed.
>Okay, maybe I’ll check a few lockers…
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684510
>Nah, time for bed.
Let's get a good night's rest and try to tackle one of those security stations in the morning. If there's one in the greaser's 'zone', we can at least try to infiltrate it without worrying about enemy skeletons.
>>
>>4684528
Get some winks!

Writing!
>>
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About to game with some friends--will check in later!

You decide you’ve spent enough time in the shower room--you’ve done what you needed and you’re pretty sure rooting through these lockers is more trouble than it’s worth. Making a few quick adjustments in the mirror, you head for the door, flicking the light switch as you go.

Emerging from the shower room, you scan the hall for any sign of Ly, but come up short. A few greasers look your way, but none of them are the skeletons you’re looking for…

“Didja miss me?”

Jumping at the sound of Ly’s voice behind you, you instinctually flip around and deliver a right hook to his jaw!

Unfortunately he’s incorporeal, so instead your fist connects with the wall. Yow.

“Take it easy, cupcake!” Ly remarks as you shake the pain out of your fist, “I thought the last two activities were supposed to calm ya’ down!”

Yea, no such luck! As the pain quickly subsides from your fist, you motion for Ly to follow you--it’s bed time!

“Finally. I checked around and dis’ whole place is just the same crap--dice, smokin’, and fights…”

High School hasn’t changed a bit, apparently! Making your way towards the Nurse’s Office, you freeze as you spy Art and Syb coming from down the corridor--and they’re LAUGHING!

“So it turns out he wasn’t at all--he was just Italian!” Art finishes, causing Sybil to almost fall off of his shoulder cackling! Man, you haven’t seen her like this in a while!

Adopting the coolest pose you can, you lean against the wall and wait for them to approach. Your friends barely notice you until they’re practically right on top of you, causing them both to snap back to reality.

“Oh! Stan!” Art exclaims, his posture straightening. “I was just making sure Sybil got back okay from the library--you know, since we’re still not sure about the greasers” He explains, silently mouthing the last word.

“Y-yes!” Sybil adds, “And I was just making sure Arthur here made it to the Nurse’s Office--I figured I could just head back to the library once you two went to bed.”

You raise an eyebrow as you stare in the direction of the library. Isn’t it, like, on the opposite end of the school?

“Of course, how silly of me!” Sybil replies, glancing towards the library. “I went a bit too far, it seems--Good night!”

The doll floats away without another word, scaring the utter crap out of a pack of greasers down the hall. You glance back at Art, his face more sweaty and anxious than usual.

“Uhh… Great school you have here! Man, those bricks in the wall? Pretty stylish!”

You squint a bit as you scrutinize his face--yep, just like a fox in a chicken coop.

“Come again?”

How do you respond?
>You DON’T. You wanna go to bed.
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>WARN Art to back off!
>SET SOME GROUND RULES. Art’s on [thin ice here!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
Fully support them, but make sure he knows that if he ever hurts her then we'll have to give him a much closer look at our BONE CLAWS
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>>
>>4684680
>>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>DISAPPROVE of Sybil’s choice in men.
>SET SOME GROUND RULES. Art’s on [thin ice here!
>Let out a SINGLE MANLY TEAR
>>
>>4684697
>>4684791
>>4684806
>>4684840
>>4685005
Aaaaand we're back with probably the last update of the night! Writing!
>>
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You spend a few moments ‘Mad Doggin’ Art, waiting for him to either apologize or run away--he does neither. Good, that will do.

“What will do?” Art asks. “Look, I know what it looks like, Stan, but--”

But nothing. With a slightly pained sigh, you hold out a fist to Art, inviting him to bump it. The security goon complies, albeit with some reluctance.

“Are we cool, or?” He inquires, his voice trailing off at the end. You nod, a smile slowly growing on your face--yes, Art, you’re cool. With some GROUND RULES, that is.

“What? Wait a minute…” Art’s eyes light up in recognition--he’s gonna have to work on that awareness if he plans to be worthy!

“Stan, I… Look, I get it, okay?” Art sputters, failing to form an appropriate sentence. “We’ve just been talking a bit, okay? Nothing serious--it’s just…”

She’s an angel.

“Well… Well sure...” Art agrees, more beads of sweat on his face than ever before. “I was gonna say that she’s also pretty smart and has a podcast that’s pretty cool… And I know it’s not an appropriate time at all, so don’t worry--I won’t ‘rush in’ or anything!”

He’s damn RIGHT he won’t! Creeping forward with your finger outstretched, you begin laying GROUND RULES: Rule Number One: If she feels hurt, scorned, neglected, or otherwise mistreated for one second, Art’s gonna be having a talk with THE BONE CLAW ORGANIZATION. Does he know what THE BONE CLAW ORGANIZATION is?

“Yea, of cou--”

It’s your CLAWS, Art. Rule Number Two: Sybil initiates everything. EVERYTHING.

“Everything?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

EVERYTHING.

“Okay, not sure if I agree with that, bu-”

Rule the Third: Art will defend the HELL outta’ her or DIE TRYING. You hear that, Art?

“Ye-”

DIE.

Art nods, chuckling uncomfortably. “I planned on it anyways, Stan-”

Good. Do that and he has your blessing. The Rent-A-Cop smiles at you, looking a bit more relieved as you finish up.

“Thanks for understanding, Stan! I won’t let you dow-”

You extend a claw inches away from Art’s face--no, you won’t let SYBIL down!

“Right! Sybil! Loud and clear!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4685067
You nod, feeling a cornucopia of feelings coming on. One one hand, Art’s found one of the best women on Earth, but on the other hand Sybil might be dooming herself to dating an admitted sex pervert. That said, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t respect the balls it took for Art to go for it!

“Does that mean that ‘Respect List’ from a few updates back is gonna be updated?”

Nope, but he’s made a good choice. Overwhelmed with emotion, you shed a single manly tear to commemorate the occasion.

And another.

Whoops, that’s a lot of single manly tears.

“Are… Are you crying?”

NO! You just… There’s just a lot of dust in here, that’s it! Using your hoodie to mop up your single manly tears, you continue past Art down the hall towards the Nurse’s Office determined to put this day to rest once and for all.


"You sure you don't need a tissue or something?" Art hollers behind you!

Y-YES!

>CONTD.
>>
>>4685068
Alright, folks--passing out for the night. Should update tomorrow by 3PM PST at the LATEST. Seeya then and thanks as always for playin'!

Several minutes of ugly single manly tears later, you and Art arrive at the entrance to the Nurse’s Office with little difficulty and conversation. When you arrive at the office the bulky form of Wyatt stands by the door like a gargoyle, a shotgun and several bags of shells sitting next to him. Noticing the two humans in the school approaching, he gives you a polite nod, then pushes the doors open for both of you.

“Come on in.”

Peering through the door you find yourself looking at, well, a pretty regular Nurse’s Office. Sure, the windows are boarded up and blocked with desks and most of the cabinets seem to have been rummaged through, but aside from that it looks pretty typical! Two beds sit in the corner of the room divided by a white curtain, emergency blankets already unfolded on their mattresses.

“I’ll take the one near the door!” Art offers. “If something happens, I’ll be the first up to help deal with it.”

You nod--it doesn’t really matter to you either way so long as you get some shuteye. Eyeing your options, you silently plan your next move.

>Actually, why don’t I take the bed closer to the door?
>Talk to Wyatt a bit
>Chat Art up
>Search the cabinets
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4685069
>Search the cabinets
Nurses office might have some goodies we could use, I really hope that for some inexplicable reason we find a bone saw.
>>
>>4685069
>Search the cabinets
>>
>>4685069
>Chat Art up
If he's gonna be potentially dating Sybil let's get to know him a little better. Surely there's *something* she sees in him
>Search the cabinets
This also
>>
>>4685077
>>4685094
>>4685203
>Casual looting and maybe chatting up Art, why not

Writing!
>>
Since you didn’t scratch your kleptomaniac itch in the shower room, it’s only natural you’d do it here! As Art gets his things settled on the bed closer to the entrance, you begin the task of scouring every cabinet, drawer, and cranny you can find.

“You uh…” Art begins, fluffing his pillow, “You need help with that?”

Not really, no, but as you yank a drawer out of the Nurse’s Office cabinet and dump its contents to the floor, you realize that despite having borrowed him for almost a whole day, you don’t really know much about Art!

Kidnapped.” Art corrects, “And you know about me! I go to Clearwater U, I’m an artist, I was a security guard at Good Boy...” He reminds you, counting the facts on his fingers, “... I wear contacts, I went to Weston High in West Clearwater, and I’m all-in-all a pretty cool dude!”

Okay, the jury’s still out on the last one, but it’s true--he hasshared a lot of info with you. Content with your pillaging, you manage to scrounge up a few USEFUL ITEMS among the rest of the garbage in the Nurse’s Office including:

-1 STETHOSCOPE
-1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
-1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
-1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
-1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!

Grinning from cheek to cheek, you turn around to share your bounty with Art. The Rent-A-Cop looks at the objects in your hands, clearly impressed.

“Those could come in useful.”

Even Wyatt adds a low whistle from the doorway. Why do people leave this stuff lying around?

“Pretty sure skeletons don’t need bandages, cupcake.” Ly suggests.

True. Plopping onto the edge of your bed, Art stares at you expectantly, clearly in a talking mood.

Damn it.

What do you want to ask him? You probably have enough energy for TWO questions at most--you need your beauty sleep!
>Why is he still awake? Let’s go to BED, dammit!
>What’s his favorite VIDEO GAME?
>What’s his FAMILY like?
>Want a STICKER? (What STICKER does he get?)
>WRITE-IN
>>
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>>4685731
Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:

>1 SKULL HOODIE
>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS
>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS
>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES
>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.
>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)
>2 rubber boots
>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.
>1 Dead (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE
>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)
>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)
>1 KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS
>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.
>1 SUPER HELPFUL SKELETON (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)
>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)
>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)
>1 Automated Bone Shaper (ABS) with low battery.
>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.
>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade
>1 SYBIL DOLL (Currently out on nerd business)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 6 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>>
>>4685731
>What’s his favorite VIDEO GAME?
>What’s his FAMILY like?
>>
>>4685741
The IMPORTANT questions! Writing!
>>
>>4685741

+1
>>
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You’re pretty sure you heard him talking about games earlier--maybe Art’s taste in games will make up for his shitty attitude?

“You uh… You don’t have to narrate your thoughts, Stan.” Art reminds you, a tired look on his face.

Right. Crossing your legs and getting comfortable on your bed, you fire off with your question: what are his FAVORITE GAMES?

“Oooh, toughie.” Art responds, a conflicted look on his face. Drumming his fingers on the helmet next to him on the bed, he slowly forms an answer.

“I’d say RPGs and Survival Horror games are my favorite, mainly RPGs.

Such as?

Art leans back a bit, presumably sifting through a mental filing cabinet of video game names.

Herald’s Journey--ever play it?”

The one with the flute minigames, right? That was your jam during Freshman Year! Art responds with a grin.

“Yea, not your usual game, that’s for sure! Still gotta play the second one once this all blows over...”

So, you continue, stretching your legs, what about Survival Horror games?

Big fan of Blood-Sucking Freaks and Stab!”

You blink a few times, a giddy smile forming on your lips.

“You like those too?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you watch as Art relaxes a bit and matches you smile!

“I could play 1, 2, and 3 for the rest of my life and never get bored. NEVER.”

You know! The replayability’s amazing for such classic games! And the gameplay--

“Unmatched!” Art squeals like a schoolgirl! “I was arguing about that with my sister Greta the other day--no other Survival Horror game has ever hit that balance of inventory management and combat. NONE.”

Who’s his favorite character? You’re into it now!

“Chester--gotta be.” Art chuckles, “To be totally honest I wanted to be him growing up… He’s just got that cool factor, you know?”

Oh, you KNOW! You preferred playing as Rin, of course, but Chester had his… Qualities.

“Fuckin’-A.” Art agrees, nodding. “Stab was great too--totally different gameplay mechanics, but still awesome.”

Yea, you could barely play that one yourself--you always had to watch a stream or your brother play it. Art’s ears perk up at the last bit.

“Oh yea, you mentioned your brother before. He’s uh… East Coast, right?”

You feel a knot tighten inside your chest. Yea… Sensing he’s treading into rough territory, Art deftly saves the conversation!

“I… I uh… Well, sorry, I..”

Whoops, no he doesn’t. Looks like it’s up to you!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4685961
“Didn’t he say he had a sister?” Ly whispers into your ear! Hey, yea! What’s Art’s family like?

“My family? Let’s see…” Quickly recovering, the security guard counts a few people off on his fingers!

“Like I mentioned before, my mom and dad live up in Washington--dad’s a pilot, mom works for Fresh. You know, the grocery store company?

Sure you do--you uh…. You might be banned from it, but you know what he’s talking about!

“Riiiiight…” Art replies, not picking up that rope. “Anyways, they were never home that much because of their jobs, so I was basically raised by my sisters.”

Ah yes, Greta and… The other one.

“Sal. Both older. You’d probably like them, though--they were the ones who got me into games.”

How do they feel about paranormal podcasts, hm? Art shifts in his seat a bit.

“They uh… They like to give me shit about it.” Art responds, rolling his eyes. “They’re both closet dweebs too, though, so they can’t really talk. Greta works for a travel company and Sal’s a Personal Trainer--both of em’ out of state, thank god.”

You nod--you’re not sure what caused everyone’s family members to conveniently not be in town during all of this, but looks like it’s a blessing in disguise! Art laughs, then looks at you expectantly.

“So uh… I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about your brother?”

The tightness in your chest returns.

“I get it--you told me about him leaving with Heather or whatever, you don’t have to share if you don’t feel like it.”

Maybe… Maybe later. It’s nothing bad, but… Not now.

Art nods understandingly.

“I uh… I miss my siblings too.”

…Yea.

“Well…” Art continues, pushing past the awkwardness, “Good to finally meet you, Stan.” Art remarks, smiling. You give him one of your own--yea, it’s nice to finally meet him too!

A few more questions flit back and forth through your mind, but you also feel sleep tugging at your eyelids…

>One more question! (WRITE-IN)
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.

Good to know Art has some quality interests! When the skeleton apocalypse is over we'll have to try multiplayer sometime.

Also wow that Herald's Journey game sounds fun :^) Thanks for the little shoutout!
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685980
>>4685989
>>4686022
>Time to hit the sack!

Writing!
>>
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Your curiosity sated for now, you pop your boots off and hang your hat and shades on the end of the metal bed frame. It’s been nice, but this is the first bed you’ve been in for hours and you’re not about to waste it!

“I hear THAT.” Art agrees, undoing his combat boots and leaving them at the foot of his bed along with his rifle. “Feels like we’ve been doing nothing but moving all day, huh?”

You shrug--all things considered, you don’t feel too bad, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit sleepy!

“Guess that bone marrow really helps.” Art quips, shooting you a tired smirk. Oh SHIT, he’s right! You’d probably be dead standing up right now if you didn’t have that magic marrow pumping energy into you!

“Good thing I told ya’ about it back ‘den!” Ly boasts, stretching out on the bed next to you. Wait, he’s not sleeping next to you, is he?

“Uhhh… No?” Art replies, confused. NOT HIM, LY!

“Don’t really gotta.” Ly answers, propping himself on a shoulder and facing you. “I figure I might as well stand guard wit’ Wyatt out there--shoot da’ shit, talk shop, you know da’ drill.”

You glance in the direction of Wyatt’s mammoth shadow outside of the door. Pretty sure he can’t hear you, man. Ly peers in the direction of the door, then shrugs.

“Eh, I’ll find somethin’ ta do. Just promise Dr. Ly you’ll get some sleep, huh missy?” Your skeleton orders, nudging you with an elbow. Yea, yea, just take it easy!

“Always do!” Ly quips, winking with his eye socket. Somehow. Rolling your eyes, you roll over in the direction of Wyatt and Art and bid them both a good night!

“Sweet dreams.” Wyatt grunts, gently sliding the door to the Nurse’s Office shut.

“You too, Stan!” Art responds, adjusting his pillow. “Wake me if something crazy happens, alright?”

You nod--sure, if you remember! With a good-natured sigh, Art gives you one last thumbs-up before rolling over. Quietly wishing Ly a good night as well, you close your eyes and do your best to shut out the muffled shouts and activity of the greasers outside. Tomorrow your task continues, but for now…

Now you REST.

Goodbye reality,

Hello Dream World.

>Welcome back, traveller. Where do you find yourself tonight? WRITE-IN details or leave blank for a random choice!
>A memory
>A good dream!
>A NIGHTMARE!
>Somewhere or something else (WRITE-IN)

In other news, just hit page 500 in my Google Doc! Thank you all so much for participating for HALF A THOUSAND PAGES whether you're active participants or lurkers! I'll be taking a break for the rest of the night, but I hope to see y'all around 3-4PM PST tomorrow for updates!
>>
>>4686178
>>A good dream!
We've had a lot of nightmares and sad times recently, I say we've earned ourselves a good dream. Let's try to dream of a happy future after the skeleton apocalypse is over, or maybe a happy memory of our family from the past.
>>
>>4686178
I just had a semi-nightmare today (the kind where things aren't scary, but annoying and embarrassing instead), so let Stan have
>A good dream!
A riverside picnic with our bro and Sybil while Boris is drowning in the background
>>
>>4686178

Good dream
>>
>>4686197
>>4686239
>>4686261
Awww, you guys are a lot sweeter than the anons who picked 'NIGHTMARE' last time! Writing!
>>
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It’s sunny.

You feel the warm, but gentle tickle of the afternoon breeze and the sun’s rays on your face as you raise your cup to your lips.

Yep, that’s delicious.

“This was a great idea, Stan! What a perfect day for a picnic!”

You look up from your drink to see your best friend Sybil sitting about a foot away from you on the checkered picnic blanket, her hands cradling a matching cup and the shaft of a black and white parasol, her pale skin absolutely GLOWING in the midday light!

That black sun dress she’s wearing is pretty great too.

“Not as cute as yours!” Your friend responds! Glancing downwards, you notice that in place of your work coveralls and hat you’re wearing a lavender sundress and a purple hair bow--perfect for a relaxing day by the lake!

“And that bow? You’re GLOWING today, Stan!”

Blushing at the compliment, you take another look around the picnic area. A tall oak tree shields you and Syb from the majority of the sun, and down the hill you see the lake--its surface as still as a mirror.

Between you and Syb sits a large picnic basket stuffed to the brim with treats--better to pack for more than you need, right? Rooting around in the basket, your hand eventually returns with a toasty grilled cheese sandwich--the bread perfectly browned and the cheese almost oozing out of the sides!

“Hey!” Sybil chides, a playful look on her face, “We’re still waiting for someone!”

You raise an eyebrow--who, Art? The goth chuckles a bit, politely covering her mouth.

“Of course not, Stan--today’s about you, remember?”

You nod slowly--yes, of course it is…

As you debate what to do with your sandwich, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching through the grass! An ENEMY!

Unsheathing your BONE CLAWS, you--wait a minute, where are your BONE CLAWS? You try to trigger them a few more times, but no dice--they just won’t come out! What gives?

“Relax, Stan!” Sybil reassures you, “There’s no skeletons here--no security guards, no monsters, no enemies!”

Hold on, you say, resisting the urge to take a bite out of the sandwich in your hand, what about that FREAK, Boris?

“He’s dead, remember?” Sybil explains about as easily as one discusses the plot of a TV show, “We drowned him. He’s over there!”

You follow your friend’s pale finger in the direction of the lake--squinting a bit you notice a pair of tacky red headphones bobbing in the center. Wait, how did--

“Oh look, he’s here!” Sybil exclaims, looking behind you! Not sure what to expect, you turn around and come face to face with…

“Yo.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4686999
You lose hold of your sandwich as your brother climbs the hill towards you wearing that same army surplus jacket he’s had since he was in High School. Beneath his unkempt chestnut hair and green eyes is a smile you haven’t seen in ages--a smile that freezes you in place like a statue.

He’s actually here!

“Of course I am!” He laughs, tousling your hair. “I’ve always got time for you, sis!”

“Me too!” Syb adds, patting the blanket and inviting him to sit down. “I’ll never leave you, Stan, no matter what!”

You don’t know how to respond, so you just smile. In your stupor you’re powerless to defend your sandwich from your brother, who quickly snatches it off of the blanket and takes a bite! Hey, what’s the big idea?!

“Snoosh yrrh lrrsh!” He replies, a chunk of sandwich sticking out of his mouth. With mock anger, you snatch another sandwich out of the basket and begin eating. The three of you fill the quiet air with laughter as you dig in, trying and failing to remember a time you’ve had this much fun...

But you can’t.

That’s not important, though--what do you wanna do?!
>Talk to your brother!!!
>Talk to Syb!
>Have some more food!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687005
>>4687021
>>4687058
Not sure why I even made it a choice, ha ha! Writing!
>>
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Is that even a question?! Scarfing down a grilled cheese, you turn to your brother--when was the last time you saw him in person, anyways? You barely remember the wedding, but maybe there was a call or something after that? Did he visit? You’ve been so busy at work that it’s completely slipped your mind...

Wait a minute, WHO CARES?! He’s here now, right? As if reading your mind, your brother turns and looks at you with his trademark ‘quarter of a smile’.

“Wanna talk?”

DO YOU! Where the hell do you even begin?! How can he be so CALM about all of this?!

“Take it easy,” He chuckles, playfully punching you on the shoulder, “I’m not goin’ anywhere!”

“Dngh mnn mrrgh!” Sybil mumbles through a grilled cheese.

Pick as many topics as you want!
>How are you?
>Why don’t we talk anymore?
>Are you mad at me?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687071
>How are you?
>Why don’t we talk anymore?
>>
>>4687072
WRITING!
>>
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How is he? You’ve gotten some updates from mom and dad, of course, but you wanna hear it straight from the horse’s mouth! Your bro thinks for a moment, then smiles at you.

“Same old, same old.”

You feel a vein grow throb in your eye. That’s IT?! What does that even mean? He moved to the East Coast with his trophy art wife and all he can say is ‘SAME OLD, SAME OLD’?!

“How are you doing?” He asks, turning your own question against you! You scratch the back of your head as you formulate an appropriate response--you’re not bad right now, per se, but in real life…

Oh, right. This is a fucking dream. Your brother shrugs.

“Not the first thing you’ve forgotten.”

Yea, bu--wait, what? You narrow your eyes at your brother’s face, searching for any tells. What does that mean?

“Weren’t you going to ask something else?”

Well yea, but…

You sigh, massaging your temples--you weren’t prepared for this! When did it all become so complicated, exactly? Why couldn’t you just talk in real life? What’s the damn deal?!

“What else should we talk about?” Your brother asks, gently smiling your way. You coulda’ swore you were going to follow up on something he said, but you can’t remember…

“They say improper diet can cause memory loss.” Sybil adds, staring at you intently. Well you doubt it’s that.

“Then what’s your excuse?” Your brother follows up, still smiling.

Excuse for WHAT? Listen, forget about it! Pushing your rising annoyance back down, you take a deep breath--you were gonna ask why you don’t talk anymore! As the words leave your lips, you notice your brother’s expression darken a bit.

“Excuse me?”

He heard you--why don’t you talk anymore? He never answers your calls, texts, emails, hell, he doesn’t even leave you ‘on read’! How is that humanly possible!?

“I beg your pardon?”

Was it all meaningless? Did you do something to upset him? He talks to your parents, but what about YOU, damn it?!

“Say again?”

You feel a trickle running down your cheek and hastily wipe it off. He’s not going to stonewall you--he’s your brother, damn it, why doesn’t he ACT LIKE IT?!

“You’re breaking up…” Your brother replies. Confused, you find yourself blinking as a blanket of fog slowly settles in from the lake--as it creeps towards you, you feel your movements become more lethargic.

“Can’t hear you.”

You try to shout, but your mouth… It just isn’t moving fast enough! The sun over the lake slowly dims as you feel yourself waking up--clawing to hold on to your dream, you watch as Syb, your brother, and the picnic disappears into a haze…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687162
The ear-splitting sound of a fire alarm violently rouses you from your sleep, causing you to tumble off of your bed and onto the cold tile floor of the Nurse’s Office! Discombobulated, your eyes slowly adjust to the blurry crimson glow of emergency lights bathing the walls in a blood-red hue.

“Oh thank GOD!” You feel someone helping you to your feet before you can untangle yourself from the floor. Blinking a few more times, you’re able to make out Art, helmet on and rifle in his other hand.

“We’ve gotta go, Stan--NOW!”

Glancing towards the exit, your ears pick up the muffled sounds of activity outside--running, shouting, and the sound of guns being loaded! Through the frosted glass window in the door you see shapes moving, but no sign of Wyatt.

What the HELL?!

“NOW, Stan!” Art shouts, tugging at your arm!

What do?
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
>Let’s move!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!

Ain't no rest for the wicked! The wicked cool, that is
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
Well shit,our poop in a group.
>>
>>4687172
>>4687179
>>4687267
Never underestimate Stan's ability to ask questions during a crisis! Writing!
>>
>>4687164
>>What’s happening?!
>>Where’s Sybil?!
>>
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Wresting control of your arm from Art’s grasp, you motion for him to COOL IT for a second--what’s going on? He can tell you while you put your shoes on! The security goon glances at your boots discarded next to your bed, then acquiesces.

“Alright, but we’ve gotta go as soon as you’re laced up!”

Fine, now please stop shouting!

“Cliff put some people on watch duty,” Art begins, pacing back and forth. “And less than ten minutes ago they radioed in saying someone was approaching. Someone BIG.”

You blink as recognition smacks into your brain like a bird into a screen door. Collecting yourself, you turn your attention back to Art--did they say anything after that? The operative shakes his head.

“No updates since then. Cliff ordered everyone to split for now--you especially.”

You recall Rocky’s words about the specialist--he’s after you.

“Can you PLEASE put your shoes on now?!” Art shouts, pointing at your boots! SORRY, you were trying to be a good listener!

“I haven’t seen Sybil since the alarms started--I’ll go check on her in the library, you get out of here.”

Hold the phone, you say, lacing up a boot, who said anything about you separating from them? Art shakes his head.

“It’s for safety, Stan--if we move together we’re all at risk--”

His reasoning is interrupted by a chorus of weapon discharges outside. If the windows weren’t barricaded you might be able to see through, but that’s the way it be, it seems.

“Uuuuhh….” Art utters, limping over to the Nurse’s Cabinet and retrieving a stack of papers and a pen, “Look, whatever happens, meet us at this address.” He hobbles back over to you just as you finish up your other boot, handing you directions to an unfamiliar location. The HELL?!

“We don’t have time to argue, Stan--you’ve gotta trust me!” Art pleads as the sound of gunfire and shouting approaches the school! Donning your shades and hat, you nod--ready to go.

“Eyyy, whad’ I miss?” Ly quips, emerging from the floor like a sitcom character. BAD NEWS, that’s what! Where the hell was he anyways?

“Found some cool bugs unda’ ground, but it don’t mattuh’. Tell me on da' way!”

What’s the plan?
>Split up with Art, let him find Syb
>Screw that, help find Syb!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687318
>split up with Art
>>
>>4687318
>Split up with Art, let him find Syb
Its us thats being chased, lets not lead it to them
>>
>>4687349
>>4687362
Splitting up! Writing!
>>
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You stare into Art’s eyes for a second, then nod--you’re not keen on splitting up, but he’s right: he and Syb will be in much less danger if you go your separate ways. Art lets out a relieved sigh, then gives you a quick salute!

“Don’t worry, Stan, you can count on me!”

You’re counting more on Syb, but he doesn’t need to know that. Slapping your cheeks a few times to wake up, you motion for Art to get a head start--you don’t want him to get caught in any crossfire!

“Thanks, Stan… Hey, assuming we make it out of all this?”

Yes?

“Let’s uh… Let’s have a game night--All of us!”

You facepalm--is he TRYING to raise death flags? GIT OUT! Shoving the Rent-A-Cop out the door, you take a moment on your bed as you hear him hastily limp down the hall. Him and that damn leg, you swear...

“So uh, remind me again what da’ score is?” Ly asks, materializing next to you. Well, you begin, someone’s coming to visit the school and you’re pretty sure it’s that specialist Rocky was talking about.

“Ooh.” Ly replies, eye sockets wide. “We’d better scoot, huh?”

Sometimes he amazes you with how smart he is. Rising to your feet, you crack your neck and head for the door--the shouts and reports of gunfire getting louder by the second!

Peering into the hallway, all that awaits you are is a box of shells left over by Wyatt, your knight in bony armor. Scooping them into your inventory, you scan the hall for any sign of the aforementioned ‘big guy’.

Nada.

“Whaddaya thinkin’?” Ly asks, floating close behind. “Sounds like da’ shots are comin’ from da’ back of da’ school…”

Then you’ll be a smart little bunny and go out the front, thanks! Maybe there’s a car you can snag! Creeping down the hall, your stealthiness is spoiled by a crackling in your pocket! Sifting through your inventory, you find the source almost immediately.

Huh. Radio? What’s going on with that radio? Before you can fiddle with it, the familiar, albeit crackly voice of Cliff comes through the speaker!

“..an? Can ya hear me, kid?” You nod, then realize he can’t see you and decide to respond with a quick ‘Yes, over’.

“Good--look, I dunno if Art gave ya the message, but we’re gettin’ outta the school for a while--couple of my guys laid a trap in the main entrance, but we’re pullin’ out for our safety. Sorry about that.”

A trap, huh? Reassuring Cliff that everything’s under control, over, that you’re on your way out, over, you continue in the direction of the main entrance.

“Good luck, kid--take any ride ya’ find and don’t stick around too long--we’ll hook up again real soon.”

Little did you know that would be the last time you’d ever see them…

“Can you stop dat’ already?” Ly chides, “It wasn’t funny da’ first time either!”

Whatever, Joke Grinch.
>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687421
Your mission to the entry hall goes off without a hitch--what was once a school crowded with skeleton greasers is now a ghost town--even the gunfire seems to have quieted down a bit!

“Nice of them ta’ leave us here all by our lonesome!” Ly mutters, watching your back. You shrug--if this thing is focused on killing you, why bother dragging others into the crossfire?

“How tough could dis’ thing be? Strength in numbas’, ya’ know? Get a bunch of guys together, boom--no more problem!”

Do you need to remind Ly about the melted deer corpse you saw this morning? The boot print almost as big as you?

“... To be fair, you ARE kinda petite, cupcake--”

Oh my god, you almost wish Art was here! By now he’s probably already whisked Syb away to whatever that address belongs to!

“Any idea what it is?” Ly asks as you continue down the hall. You shake your head--who can say? Probably some sort of anime pervert dungeon or something!

“And here I was thinkin’ you two reached an understandin’...” Ly muses. You like him a bit more, sure, but he’s still got a long way to go!

As you reach the main entrance, you come across a group of skeleton greasers planting a few strange machines on the floor.

“Alright, boys,” Announces the most capable-looking member in the bunch, “Da’ minute dat’ fink charges in, we give him a surprise party he ain’t never gonna forget!”

The leader mimes shooting the gizmos on the ground, prompting the group to chuckle amongst themselves. One of them catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of their eye socket and flags you down!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687422
“Ey, meatbag! Perfect timin’!”

The rest of the group turns to face you as the leader runs his hands through his pompadour.

“Welcome to da’ show, Stan. Names’ Can-Do Kerry. Sit tight--we’ll be takin’ care of your stalker problem in a jiff!”

Lonnie Lugnuts!” Recites another greaser, shooting you some gun fingahs.

Squeaky-Wheel Sylvester!” shouts the one next to him, flipping a cigarette into his mouth!

Jeff Woods.” Murmurs the last guy. “Pleased to meet ya.”

Returning their greeting, you glance at the machines on the floor--what are those, exactly?

“Boom-boxes!” Answers Kerry, grinning madly. “Boxes fulla’ boom! Da’ minute dat guy comes waltzin’ in--”

He never gets a chance to explain--the front door to the school rips open before he can finish, letting in a concentrated red ray of light so hot you can feel it from where you’re standing! Before you can react, the light connects with a boom-box, causing the entryway to erupt in a series of explosions!

Flying backwards, you slam against the wall behind you and are knocked prone as bits of charred bone and pompadour impact on the wall next to you--looks like your new pals weren’t so lucky…

https://youtu.be/9buc2szkvt4

You hear it before you see it--the sound of massive boots hitting the floor in a practiced marching pattern. Shaking the daze from your head, you soon get a glimpse of the boot’s owner--a massive figure barely able to fit through the front door more shoulder than man!

An honest-to-god giant, and all that entails! Wrapped in a hooded trench coat, the figure body-slams through the remains of the front entrance, then briefly scans the atrium before capturing you in its glowing red eyes!

This is it--the ‘Specialist’!

Idly brushing some flames left over from the detonation off of its shoulders, the figure begins stomping towards you with murderous intent in its eyes!

What do?
>Kick his ass! (What weapon do you use?)
>Run for the front door!
>Retreat! Try and find a way out back!
>Head upstairs--he’s too heavy!
>WRITE-IN!
This is my last update for tonight, folks--will try to check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST, otherwise I'll check in between 3-4PM PST! Thanks for playin!
>>
>>4687162
Oh no! It was supposed to be a good dream...
I had to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich btw.
>>4687423
>Head upstairs--he’s too heavy!
Then we jump out of a window
>>
>>4687445
+1
X Ain't gonna give it to us, express deliver to us. X gonna receive a return to sender notice.
>>
>>4687445
+1
>>
>>4687445
>>4687463
>>4687894
Up the stairs! Writing!
>>
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It takes you maybe half a second tops to decide that no, you’re not going to tangle with the guy they’ve been hinting at for three threads now. With a polite tip of your cap, you scurry off in the opposite direction like a dog trying to escape a bath!

“HE’S HUGE!” Ly exclaims, keeping pace with you! Yea, you saw! Skidding around a corner, you hear the specialist’s massive boots approach at a speed much faster than a brisk walk!

Is he… Is he running?!

Your question is answered almost immediately as the colossus comes crashing through the wall next to you like it was balsa wood! Grabbing for your head, you use your SUPERIOR BONE SPEED to duck underneath his attack and skitter deeper into the school! That’s not fair! Who said he could RUN?!

“Hope we live long enough ta’ find out!” Ly howls, keeping an eye on the monster rapidly gaining on you! “What’s da’ plan, anyways?!”

You’re not sure! Despite your love of Parkour you really don’t have much endurance--you can’t keep jogging forever--your lungs feel like they’re about to collapse!

“Stan, it’s....” Ly frowns, “You’ve been running for a minute, tops.. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

You were an intellectual, not an athlete, okay?!? Ignoring Ly’s obligatory snide response, your eyes light up as you spy a staircase leading upwards--that’s it!

“What’s it!?” Ly asks, eye sockets wide as your stalker approaches!

Upstairs, you answer triumphantly! There’s no way he can follow you up there--he’s too heavy!

“Hey, you’re RIGHT!” Ly shouts, a smile on his face! Of course you are--there’s no way the ground will support him--it’s just not realistic!

You give your ghostly floating sentient skeleton a high-five, taking care not to accidentally unsheathe your bone claws you got from eating magical bone marrow! As you make your way up the first few stairs, you feel a wave of heat rush past your face--whatever it is, you’d better dodge it!

>Roll 1d100 to dodge SOMETHING! I’ll take the best of three rolls!
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4688227
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>4688227
>Roll 1d100 to dodge SOMETHING! I’ll take the best of three rolls!
Lets book it like Webster!
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>4688227
DOOOOODGE
>>
>>4688229
>>4688247
>>4688251
>Highest Roll: 37
Writing!
>>
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You feel the skin on your cheek singe as a ray of red light erupts past your head towards the stairs! Before you can slow down, the heat ray rips through the stairwell, causing it to instantly bubble and melt!

There’s no time to slow down--as the stairs begin to disintegrate, you sprint forwards and leap towards the wall bordering the stairs--time for a little PARKOUR!


“YES!” Ly cheers, pumping a spectral fist! Egged on by your skeleton, you sail through the air for a moment as your pursuer finishes cooking the stairs! Briefly wondering why he didn’t just turn and blast you, your train of thought is interrupted by your foot making contact with the wall!

Placing your hands above where your foot lands, you push off the wall with all fours, launching yourself towards the railing bordering the second story landing!

You fly through the air and look the specialist in his cold, glowing eyes--he’s gonna have to try harder than that! Flipping him the double bird, your leap takes you to the sec-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sense of impending doom--glancing in the direction you’re flying you watch helplessly as you continue on a collision course with a large, framed safety poster falling directly towards your FACE!

You smack into the side of the framed poster like a fly hitting a windshield and the two of you tumble to the floor in a heap! As you struggle under the weight pinning your arms and legs to the ground, panic settles in and sweat rolls down your face as your pursuer stomps in your direction!

>Roll 1d100 to escape, I’ll take the best of three rolls! Escape plan descriptions can only help ya, so feel free to include them!
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4688286
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>4688286
Try to temporarily blind him with our TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT before darting up the rest of the way to the 2nd floor!
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>4688286
>>
>>4688292
>>4688296
>>4688358
>Highest Roll: 86
Writing!
>>
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You struggle more frantically as the giant approaches, his eyes glowing RED HOT! If he decided to cook you with that laser thing, well, let’s just say you’re gonna have one hell of a sunburn!

“Can you stop acting stupid for a second and get us OUTTA HERE?!” Ly shrieks, causing your body to rattle a bit under the poster! Can HE?! All he ever does is float around and make snippy remarks--can’t he do, like… Bone things?!

“Bone things? The hell are y--hey, wait a minute…”

You feel Ly take control of your body for a second--man, how many updates has it been since he’s done tha--hey, watch the HIPS!

“Just a bit more… There we go!” Ly grunts, moving you around under the poster! As the specialist pushes past some of the melted rubble, you feel an item from your inventory roll into your hand! The ABS? Your HANDGUN? Ooh, maybe the--

Your fingers quickly close around the rough handle of your TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT. Swell.

“Great.” Ly groans, “Maybe he’s an epileptic and we can seize him to death…”

The hell is he talking about eclipses for?! Wait a minute, Ly’s a GENIUS!

“Huh? Well yea, but care to elaborate?” Your skeleton asks as the specialist reaches out for your head!

Stretching your arm as far as it will go, you switch the flashlight to its ANNOYING STROBE MODE, causing its high-intensity beam to flash in your would-be murderer’s red eyes sending him stumbling backwards!

“Good goin’, kid--now we can die a few seconds later!” Ly cheers! Wait, that didn’t sound very genuine…

Your train of thought is derailed as you realise your hand is actually MUCH MORE MANEUVERABLE than you thought! Extending your BONE CLAWS, you tear through the poster like a cat through a sofa, scrambling up the remains of the melted stairway! You don’t bother to check if your attacker’s following--you just run down the hall as fast as you can!

“Where to, cupcake?!” Ly asks as you scurry past a blur of classrooms and lockers!

You don’t know--all of the windows in the hallway are barricaded too! You could probably cut them up, but you need time! As your mind races to come up with a solution, you come across the answer in the form of a door!

>Quick, into the HOME ECONOMICS ROOM!
>Quick, into the AP US HISTORY ROOM!
>Quick, into the DEBATE CLUB ROOM!
>Quick, into the JANITOR’S CLOSET!
>>
>>4688415
>>Quick, into the HOME ECONOMICS ROOM!
>>
>>4688415
>Quick, into the DEBATE CLUB ROOM!
We will simply defeat the invincible pursuer type enemy with facts and logic
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4688443 -- 1
>>4688458 -- 2
Looks like it's up to Lady Fortune to figure this one out--will write the result!
>>
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The HOME EC Room--of course! Slipping through the door and shutting it behind you, you find yourself adrift in a sea of cheap kitchen islands and stools--each section punctuated with a small gas stove and sink! Along the wall on the way to the teacher’s desk sit several cupboards, utensil racks, and a trio of refrigerators.

“Makes ya’ nostalgic, don’t it?” Ly remarks, taking it all in! You nod--if you had a nickel for every pastry you swiped from other groups in this class, well… You wouldn’t a janitor right now, that’s for damn sure!

“Take a look over there!” Ly remarks, pointing to the other side of the room. A few windows sit across the way from you, each equipped with welded-on bars and what appears to be bullet-proof glass!

“Jeez,” Ly remarks, “Rocky’s boys really locked dis’ place down!”

Wait, what? No, those have been there since before you were even a student here--the school put those up because kids would always try to escape through them. Doesn’t he remember finals week?

“Dat’ explains da’ suicide nets…” Ly murmurs, nodding sagely to himself. In any case, those things are built to last--you can’t exactly chop one open by saying ‘please’!

“Well what are we waitin’ for?!” Ly hisses, “Let’s do it!”

As you contemplate which window looks the weakest, you hear the sound of your biggest fan’s footsteps approaching! Whether they’re below, above, or on the same level as you remains to be seen, but it begs the question--should you prepare?

>BARRICADE the doors! It’ll give you time to work!
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place’ll go up like a fireworks factory!
>Search the room for LOOT!
>No way, let’s just chop the window and get the HELL OUT.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4688608
>WRITE-IN
Listen, we've played enough Survival Horror games to know what to do here- we need to open a cabinet or an oven and *hide*!

Unless he already saw us go in here, in which case I'd instead vote
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place'll go up like a fireworks factory!
>>
>>4688626
Wait scratch that, I forgot he always knows where we are. Let's puncture those gas canisters!
>>
>>4688608
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place’ll go up like a fireworks factory!
Boom Boom shake the Room
>>
>>4688626
>>4688632
Just to clarify, you would puncture them and THEN start working on the windows. If you'd like to just puncture the canisters and blow a hole open in the school, feel free to let me know!
>>
Errrr, so that you can blow it up as you escape. Apologies for the double post--been feeling out of it tonight!
>>
>>4688642
You're good!

I figure we're
>Puncturing Canisters
>Cutting open window
>Hold ourselves in the window frame until invincible pursuer enemy arrives
>"Hasta la Vista, baby" toss ignited lighter into room and jump out of window proper
>>
>>4688626
>>4688632
ProPANE proPAAAAAAAANE!

Writing!
>>
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Yes Ly, let’s ‘do’ it, you say, winking to no one in particular. Your skeleton’s astral projection looks at you like you just spoke a foreign language, then acquiesces with a simple “Okay!”

You hear the sound of boots stomping outside as you begin your Dark Project--with luck you’ll have everything ready to go before he tracks you down! Flitting from stove to stove like a bee pollinating flowers, you dutifully punch a tiny hole in each station’s gas tank with a satisfying HISS!

“Should we be doin’ dis’ when all da’ windows are closed?” Ly asks, peering over your shoulder.

Yes, that’s the whole point, dingaling! If the doors or windows are opened then all of the flammable gas will escape--you’re about to send this mutant a message he’ll never forget!

“Okay, but are you gonna be okay inhalin’ all dis’ stuff?”

What is he, a safety inspector? You were wrong about the steam, you get it--but GAS? It lights barbecues--big deal!

Finishing up on the last tank, you ignore your blurry vision and the growing pounding sensation in your head and make your way to the windows--strong though they may seem, you wager they’re not exactly ‘BONE CLAW-PROOF’!

“Just hurry up, cupcake!” Ly hisses, “We gotta track down Art and Syb!”

You’re working on it! As you examine the bars on the windows, you hear a loud CRASH outside in the hallway--you hope he just stubbed his toe or something!

“Put some pep in yer’ step, Stan!” Ly whispers!

You’ve got it covered--it’s only a matter of TIME!

>Roll 1d100 to chop this window up quickly--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Gonna call it here for tonight--been feeling odd since I got off of work. Will check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST at the earliest, otherwise we'll resume around the usual 3-4PST. Thanks for playin'!
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4688669
>Roll 1d100 to chop this window up quickly--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Issa odd night, take it easy Bones

Now Stanley, dont take it easily right now. Take this very hard and serious for once.
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>4688669
Take care of yourself DemBones, and thanks for running!
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>4688669
Thanks for running! Get some rest man.
>>
>>4688676
>>4688702
>>4688727
>Highest Roll: 47
Thanks, all--I think I've got time for a quick update now, but the rest will come around 3-4PST!

Now let's write about how badly Stan fucked up!
>>
Biting your tongue in concentration, you get to work carving the bars from the window you’ve deemed the wussiest.

“Good thing they weren’t countin’ on BONE CLAWS, huh?” Ly remarks, a wry grin on his face. Don’t be so sure--this crap is TOUGH! Granted, your claws are slicing through, but getting one through a bar is akin to cutting a steak with a SPOON or something!

Working on it for several precious seconds, your claws break on through to the other side of one end of a bar--only a few more to go!

“Can’t you just… You know, squeeze through?” Ly asks, measuring the gaps in the bars with his astral hands. Not with this fresh bod, you can’t, you reply, licking a finger and touching your hip with an appropriate hissing sound effect. Besides, you’re almost done here--a bar or two oughta be enough!

“Well hurry up, will ya?” Ly whispers, “I can barely hear tall, dark an’ deadly’s boots anymore!”

And you can barely hear yourself think, so can it!

The upper part of the window bar takes a bit longer, mainly due to you being slightly vertically-challenged. As you saw towards the center with your claw, you hit a snag--damn it, you hate when this happens! Forcing your way through, you adopt a triumphant grin as the bar comes loose!

And subsequently tumbles to the floor with a loud series of CLANGS.

“Da’ hell are you doin’?!” Ly howls, poking your chest with a spectral phalange! You thought he was holding it steady!

“I’m a friggin’ ASTRAL PROJECTION! I CAN’T HOLD JACK SHI-”

You and your skeleton pause your argument for a second as you hear the faint sound of boot steps below you. Just as you crane your ear to listen more, they stop!

“Stan…” Ly begins, unease in his voice, “I think we should leave. Right now.”

Glancing at the tiny opening in the bars and the reinforced window glass, a sense of unease builds up in your stomach. Thankfully that unease is replaced when you feel the temperature growing at your feet and notice the floor beginning to glow orange!

Now you just feel panic, and a LOT of it!

>Roll 1d100 to bust through the window before the situation HEATS UP any further! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls--strats for busting the window open can only help your chances! I’ll check back in around 3/4PM PST!
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>4689224
>>Roll 1d100 to bust through the window before the situation HEATS UP any further! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls--strats for busting the window open can only help your chances! I’ll check back in around 3/4PM PST!


Shit shit shit, lets uhhhh. Tuck and fuckin roll. Lets hope the dice gods stop bareback screwing us so hard this time.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>4689224
break it open with our CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>4689224
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
>>4689229
>>4689232
>>4689243
>Highest Roll: 65
Guess who has a little time for an updaaaaaaaaate? Writing!
>>
File: gameover1.png (29 KB, 640x295)
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No time for subtlety! Like the hero of a Western Flick you quickdraw your trusty CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION and aim it at the window!

Open SESAME!

“Wait, what about the ga-”

Too late. Pulling the trigger causes the room to erupt in a bright flash of light, followed by the most intense pain you’ve ever felt!

Luckily it only lasts for a moment…

By the time the flames die down there’s barely enough of you left to fill a contact lens case.

GAME OVER! Score: 0 out of 500 Points.
Restore
Restart
Quit

Thanks so much for playing BONES QUEST! Guess I'll see you in the next one!
>>
>>4689429
>Restore
Well.... Shit.
>>
File: specialist2.png (719 KB, 800x600)
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>>4689429
I keed, I keed. Stan won't die that easily. Her pals, on the other hand...

Wait a minute, they rolled a 65, you say? Shit, alright…

Ahem… Too late. Pulling the trigger causes the room to erupt in a bright flash of light, followed by the most intense pain you’ve ever felt!

Luckily it only lasts for a moment….

You feel a strange sense of weightlessness as the force of the explosion hurls you through the reinforced glass and through the air! Flying through the heavens like a home run ball, you take a moment to ignore the fact that your legs are on fire and revel in the miracle of flight!

You’re flying, Ly! You’re flying!

Your trusty skeleton takes control of your head and neck for a moment, directing your attention to the rapidly-approaching pavement below.

“We’re dying, Stan! We’re dying!”

As you prepare for impact, you close your eyes and briefly go over all of the cool stuff you’re gonna miss out on now that you’re dying at 20! Drinking legally, travelling, going to college, your first t--

Your abridged introspection is interrupted as you land face-first with a THUD onto…

Wait a minute, since when is concrete this plush?

Opening your eyes, you realize you’re lying on the charred remains of a soft green sofa--a trail of embers leading from where it burst out of the building to your landing zone!

“Da’ hell is dis’ doin’ here?” Ly asks, almost sounding disappointed! It takes you a moment, but you quickly recognize it as the modeling couch from the art room! On one hand, hooray for being alive, but on the other…

They definitely had nude models come in before.

Ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks, you pat the few flames still flickering on your pant legs and survey your surroundings--looks like you were blown to the back parking lot!

A few cars, scooters, and even a bicycle sit crooked in the parking spots--most likely belonging to faculty. Further back sits the Garage--a veritable mad science lab for car geeks. Past all of those, however, sits a large chain-link fence, an electric gate, and salvation waiting beyond!

“Dat’ was a close one!” Ly sighs, “Let’s get outta here before anyone else comes to-”

You and Ly pause your conversation as your ears pick up a symphony of groaning metal and crumbling masonry behind you. Looking back you see something you kinda expected, but really, really, really didn’t want--your stalker emerges from the burning, crumbling remains of the school, grim resolve in his glowing, hellish eyes!

“Oh dear, is dat’ da’ time?” Ly whimpers, glancing at an imaginary watch, “We gotta scoot!”

Where to?
>Snag some WHEELS (What do you grab?)
>Head for the GARAGE--maybe you can find something useful in there!
>Make a break for the FENCE--you can lose him outside of school!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689433
>Make a break for the FENCE--you can lose him outside of school!
We are way better suited to forest combat than he is, BONE LEGS plus BONE CLAWS! mean we can go full squirrel mode. And that ribcage is gonna help us from whatever shots we do take.
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS (What do you grab?)
Let's get a SCOOTER- we already know Stan can't handle a car without Ly's help. Besides helping us escape, having some wheels in the future could be useful for getting around quicker. Also, you can do SICK TRICKS on a scooter
>>
Got a meeting in a little bit, but I should be back around the earlier-mentioned 3-4PM PST. See you all then--hopefully the tie will be broken by then!
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS
A scooter, why not.
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS, namely a scooter.

https://youtu.be/38QExVxxIoo
STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN
>>
>>4689435
>BOOK IT!

>>4689439
>>4689489
>>4689548
>Catch a Riiiiiiiiide

Sorry folks, meeting went a lot later than I anticipated! Writing!
>>
File: Spoiler Image (557 KB, 800x600)
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Hell nah--you’ve run enough for one day, thanks! Scampering deeper into the parking lot, you try your best to ignore the homicidal freak trailing behind you and search for an appropriate ride.

“You really think we gonna find somethin’?” Ly asks, helping you scan the lot! You really think! If this guy chasing you can walk through concrete like tissue paper and can melt staircases, your best bet is to put a lot of distance between you and him. At least until you can turn the tables, that is!

“Somethin’ tells me dat’s gonna take a while…” Ly whines. “Hey, what about DAT?!

Pointing a few feet away, you follow Ly’s finger and lay eyes on…

Well, it’s certainly a vehicle. A hideously pink eyesore with tassels, a rainbow decal above the wheel, and the words ‘Queen Bitch’ emblazoned on the front, but a vehicle nonetheless…

Oh god, the helmet even has cat ears...

“Hurry up, we gotta get it started!”

Is he kidding? You can’t drive this! What about that one over there? That one looks good!

“Half of these got a breathalyzer in the ignition port, cupcake--these belong to school staff, remember?”

You huff--maybe he’s right. In any case, you don’t seem to have much time--Tillamook or whatever his name is is gaining on you!

>No dice, man--let’s FIND ANOTHER ONE.
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
>Rip it open and fiddle with the wires to hotwire it!
>Maybe an ITEM will help start it?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689779
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
A ride worthy of us, also every now and then you remind me that we both live nearby. Tillamook is gonna crush us if we don't cheese it.
>>
>>4689779
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
>>
>>4689783
You'd cheddar believe it.

>>4689783
>>4689793
>Keys, please!

Writing!
>>
File: keysplease.jpg (271 KB, 1024x580)
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You don’t have time to argue--besides, what are the odds that you’re actually going to find keys for this monstrosity? At least if you die here it’ll be Ly’s fault. Packing all of your attitude into a fully-charged sigh, you get to work and crouch alongside the scooter.

Despite appearances it looks pretty normal--exhaust pipes, a little storage box behind the seat, wheels, that disgusting helmet...

If there even ARE keys on this thing, where the hell would they be?

>Roll 1d100 to crack the case and find some keys! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Don’t forget to include where you wanna look!
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>4689826
check the storage box, thats where most people would put their keys.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4689826
>Roll 1d100 to crack the case and find some keys! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Don’t forget to include where you wanna look!
We probably got it, but lets check the undercarriage as well
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>4689826
>>
>>4689828
>>4689830
>>4689846
>Highest Roll: 88

Writing!
>>
File: huh.png (511 KB, 800x600)
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A frown forms on your face--if you were gonna store keys to a scooter anywhere, wouldn’t it be smart to leave ‘em in the storage box?

“Why would you leave the keys to your scooter IN the scooter?” Ly replies. “That’s SUPER stupid--just take ‘em wit’ ya!”

No, you’re not losing THIS argument! Just think about it--if you left your keys inside the box, you’d never lose ‘em! All you’d have to do is pop it open, plug ‘em in, and go!

“That just means everyone could do that! If you don’t lock da’ box den’ any jamoke can walk up and take it! Sure, it’d be great for us right now if it were possible, but it ain’t--no one’s dat’ dumb!”

Oh yea? Watch THIS. Reaching for the box lid, you give Ly a smug grin as you pull on the lid.

Hold on, is there a latch or something? One sec.

Man, this is reallystuck! Yanking on the lid with two hands, you soon come to realize that maybe people aren’t as stupid as you thought…

“HEH.” Ly chuckles, arms crossed. “Better try somewhere else, cupcake. Hurry up, too, because you-know-who’s comin’.”

Unable to let it go, you extend your BONE CLAWS in rage and slice open the lid’s handle, causing it to fly open! Peering inside, you and Ly find a PACK OF TISSUES, some CLOVE CIGARETTES, and a MENU for Andre’s Steakhouse!

As you collect the items, you feel a faint jingle from inside the box. Peering in, you find a UNICORN KEYRING with a SCOOTER KEY attached! Score!

You and Ly pause for a moment to relish in your good fortune!

“Hey, wait a minute…” Ly begins, “How did they LOCK da’ KEY in there?”

You blink a few times as you consider the possibilities. Perhaps this thing belongs to you from the future? Maybe the scooter is alive and wants you to ride it? The mind boggles....

“Let’s think about it later--we gotta go!”

Ly points in the direction of your stalker--the behemoth now only a few feet away! Hopping onto the scooter, you pop the key in the ignition and crank it!

>Roll 1d100 to start the engine before the killer gets you! Hey, it’s just like that one movie! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls, but I also have another burning question:

DO YOU WEAR THE KITTY HELMET??
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4689893
yes
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4689893
Yeah, and we wear it well
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>4689893
Yeh
>>
>>4689898
>>4689904
>>4689939
>Highest roll: 60

Writing!
>>
File: stanhelmet.png (114 KB, 400x600)
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Turning the key in the ignition, you sputter in disbelief as the scooter fails to start! Come on, not NOW!

“Give it a rest and try again! You’ll flood da’ engine!”

Growling, you turn the key back, then try once more--still nothing! Glancing in the direction of your pursuer you can see his eyes lighting up--you know what that means!

“One more, Stan! You got ‘dis!”

With a determined snarl, you bring the key back one more time, this time jiggling it a bit before turning it!

The engine whines…

It sputters…

AND IT STARTS! You and Ly laugh excitedly as you step on the gas a tiny bit a--

Holy CRAP this thing is FAST!

Darting out of the way of Tollhouse’s laser, you take your hand off the throttle and bring the scooter to a stop!

“Da’ hell are ya’ doin’?!” Ly howls, glaring at you indignantly! Taking a deep breath, you reach into your inventory and fish out… THE KITTY HELMET.

“Stan… You… You don’t gotta…” Ly pleads, staring at you sympathetically. “All dat’ ‘wear a helmet’ crap? It’s for da’ birds!”

Sorry, Ly, you begin, holding the helmet aloft, but you made a promise to a very special someone that you’d alwayswear a helmet…

“Ta’ who?” Ly asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t remember anyone telling ya’ ta’ wear a helmet… In fact ‘dat might explain a few things…”

You slip the helmet over your head--it fits like a glove.

You promised Sally Safety: The Safety Squirrel.

“Stan, dat’ was just someone on TV in a costume...” Too late--it’s on and you’re ready to RIDE. Ly shrugs, then hops back into your body.

“Alright, I guess now’s a good a time as any for you ta’ start worryin’ about your head…”

Revving the throttle, you quickly gauge your choices as the specialist approaches--what’s your escape plan?!

>Crash through the back gate!
>Circle around to the front!
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
You know we always wanted too.
>>
>>4689969
>>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY.
As if there was any other way.
>>
>>4689985
>>4690004
>>4690007
>>4690009
I think I can see where we're leaning, here. Writing!
>>
File: escape.gif (1.32 MB, 327x251)
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Gunning the throttle, you dart past Tallman’s bulk and start doing circles around the parking lot.

“Where we goin’, anyways?” Ly shouts over the scooter’s engine! The back gate is out, of course--you’re pretty great, hell, you might even call yourself ‘sensational’, but no amount of coolness is gonna let you crash through there. Granted, you could probably slice it with your claws, but that would be ignoring the biggest thing here.

“... Which is?”

Ly, you begin, drumming your fingers on the handlebars as you duck below another laser blast, what is the most IMPORTANT part of Parkour?

“Oh, this again… Uh… Not breakin’ your neck?”

Close. Finishing your loops around the lot, you skid to a halt facing Tarbaby and the hole leading into the still-burning school. The most important part of Parkour, you explain, is getting from one place to another in the FASTEST and most EFFICIENT way possible!

Ly quickly registers what you’re suggesting and proceeds to take a page from Art’s book and start sweating.

“Stan, it’s on FIRE. It’s CRUMBLING.”

Yea, it’s dangerous all right--so are horses, but we still use them!

“Alright. Let's do dis'.”

NOW he's getting in the spirit of things!

You pull back on the throttle and rocket forward, darting past Trolltoll one last time and into the growing inferno you once called High School!

“Gotta admit, you can sorta handle dis’ scooter!” Ly remarks as you roll into the hallway where you once saw Dreamboat Derek WAVE to you! “Don’t remember us learnin’ how ta’ drive onna’ dese’, though!”

You nod, trying to ignore the stomping of heavy boots behind you. Yea, you’ve never really been on one before. Good time to learn though, right?!

The reality of the situation sinks into Ly’s mind and you see his projection wither a bit.

“...Tell ya what--why don’t I scout ahead and warn ya if some obstacles are comin’ up?”

See, he CAN be useful! You don’t need him for the stuff dead ahead, though--you see that just fine! A sharp turn approaches with bits of burning debris falling from the ceiling! Looks like Tallcan made a shortcut through a few walls, though--which way should you go?

>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
>The SAFEST route--let's slow down at that corner!
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4690036
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
We said the *fastest*, most efficient way possible. This is parkour, not baby hour!
>>
>>4690036
>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
The shortcut will have debris on the floor, so it's not really the fastest route.
>>
Gonna hit the sack for tonight--will check in around 3-4PM PST tomorrow and update then. Thanks for participating today and have a good one tomorrow!
>>
>>4690036
>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
Debris makes for a poor driving surface, but we are still being chased. A middle ground should suffice.
>>
>>4690079
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
the dice can't keep screwing us every vote!
>>
>>4690036
>>The shortcut! Through the holes!
>>
>>4690079
>>4690411
>>4690698
>SHORTCUUUUUUUT

>>4690098
>>4690294
>SORTA-SAFER ROUTEEEE

Writing!
>>
File: shortcut.gif (3.05 MB, 480x270)
3.05 MB
3.05 MB GIF
https://youtu.be/jcupHBak2vU

As the corner rapidly approaches, you swerve to the left to prepare for the sharp right turn!

“You’re turnin’ too soon, cupcake…” Ly mutters, shooting a worried glance between your scooter and the end of the hallway.

He can’t see it through the helmet, but you frown at him anyways! What did you JUST say, Ly? What did you JUST. SAY?!

“.... I can be useful?”

You’ll say it again this time TOGETHER---FASTEST and MOST EFFICIENT! To his credit, your skeleton recites the first word, then freezes when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Stan, dat’s WAY too narrow!”

You know--that’s why it’s such a good plan! If you can pull this off you’ll have a huge lead on Toblerone!

“O-okay, just…” Ly sputters, staring at the approaching shortcut through the wall, “Be right back!”

Your skeleton soars through the walls ahead of you as you approach your turn! Swooping back with breakneck speed, Ly pops back into your body to give you the report!

“It goes through da’ bathrooms and ends in da’ main foyer, but careful--there’s debris EVERYWHERE and it curves!”

Not a problem--you’ve got a helmet! Patting the ears for good luck, you gun the throttle and skid towards the shortcut so kindly provided by your pursuer--you’ll have to thank him after this assuming you survive!

>Roll 1d100 to not eat shit--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. By the way, Stan’s never rode a fucking scooter before, so feel free to write some tips in along with your rolls--I’m sure she’ll appreciate it!
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>4690911
Pop a wheelie
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>4690911
>>
>>4690932
>>4690994
>Highest Roll: 96

Well then! Writing!
>>
File: fruitcaaaart.jpg (1.58 MB, 2342x3075)
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As you careen towards the hole in the wall like a rogue firework, you rack your mind for anything that could help you in this new and exciting activity you’re engaging in!

You recall that your pal Gus drives a bike around when delivering pizzas, sure, but he never really took the time to show you any cool tips with it! Every time you asked he would just give you ‘the look’!

You can see the veritable OBSTACLE course inside of the hole as you prepare to thread the ‘needle’--seems like Tollbooth deliberately tore through here in case you doubled back--DAMN HE’S GOOD!

As you contemplate your route through, an idea sparks to life in your head:

Wheelies. Something tells you they help you control the scooter better, or something. Not one to argue with your subconscious, you lean back and lift the front wheel off of the ground! Hey, you think you’re going faster!

“Oh CHRIST, get ready ta’ veer right!” Ly whines as you zoom through the ruined bathroom! Zigzagging between the toppled stall doors like a skier in a slalom, you rocket through the shortcut without sacrificing any speed at all!

Blasting through the other hole, you skid to the right and just narrowly duck under a burning section of the floor hanging from above--man, that fire’s really spreading!

“Look out!”

In classic slasher movie fashion the captain of your fan club comes CRASHING through the wall to your right--guess he just made another shortcut! In his arms he carries a wooden cart stocked to the brim with apples, plums, and other pieces of produce, the words Rocky’s Gang Agricultral Klub painted on the side! Gritting your teeth, you glance forward towards the front door--you can make it!

“FRUIIIIIIT CAAAAAAAARRRRTTT!” Ly shrieks as the colossus chucks the whole thing your way! You can’t just ignore it--what do you do?!

>SHOOT it! It works in those arcade games!
>OUTRUN it! You’re faster!
>SLICE IT! You’ve got BONE CLAWS!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691032
>SHOOT it! It works in those arcade games!
>>
>>4691039
Oh shoot! Writing!
>>
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You haven’t let anything get in your way yet, and you certainly aren’t gonna stop NOW! Wheelie-ing like a bat outta’ Hell towards the remains of the school’s front entrance, you keep one hand on the throttle to hold things steady as you snag your CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION from your inventory!

Aiming the muzzle at the cart soaring towards you, you take a deep breath, squeeze the trigger, and prepare to blow it to the Big Farmer’s Market in the sky!

>Roll 1d100 to blast it--I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4691128
>>
>>4691128
>Roll 1d100 to blast it--I’ll take the best of 3!
I dont know about you, but I'm having a BLAST!
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>4691128
I was a dumbass and forgot my roll.
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>4691128
>>
>>4691138
Look at him! Look at him and LAUGH!

>>4691132
>>4691138
>>4691140
>Highest Roll: 81!

Writing!
>>
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You don’t know about Ly, but you’re having a BLAST!

Ly’s groan is drowned out by the sound of thunder roaring out from the shotgun barrel! Like a grim party popper the shell bursts into shrapnel and tears through the oncoming cart creating a cornucopia of confetti in the air! Some of the buckshot even impacts into Teapot’s heavy coat before he brushes them off like dandelion spores!

That ain’t your concern, though--at least not right now. You feel a burning sensation on your neck as you face forward, but it’s too late!

Your steed carries you through the school entrance just as you feel another laser rip through the remains of the door! Whatever your fan hit causes the entire front of the school to collapse in a burning heap behind you as you wheelie out the door and over the front steps!

As you make your descent towards the ground, your skeleton’s astral projection emerges from your body wide-eyed and bewildered.

“Stan… Dat’... Dat’ was..”

You give him a smug grin through your KITTY HELMET and extend a fist his way.

Hell yea?

“HELL YEA!”

Your tires land on the pavement with a triumphant squeal as you and Ly leave your alma mater burning and crumbling behind you. Talk about cathartic!

“I’d call it ‘arson’, but what da’ hell.” Ly shrugs as you skid around the corner onto the dilapidated streets. Taking one last look at your High School, you watch as a tall, dark shape emerges from the collapsing masonry, two red lights following you all the way down the street…
--------------------------------------------------------------
Several minutes later, the faintest hint of sunlight begins to peek in through the cloudy night sky--morning’s approaching! As you maneuver between abandoned cars and cracked roads, you pause for a moment to check the napkin Art gave you before running off.

“Are we there yet?” Ly whines. You shrug--probably? Maybe about half way.

“Good, da’ sooner we link up da’ better! You know where we’re headed?”
You nod again--it looks a lot cooler now that you have a helmet! Gotta admit, though, you weren’t expecting Art to have you meet up at…

>’I Hate Mondays’ Bar & Grille
>’Miami Ice’ Skating Rink
>’Fun Guy’s’ Family Restaurant!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691208
>WRITE-IN
The old arcade!
>>
>>4691208
>’Miami Ice’ Skating Rink
Lets cool this situation down a bit
>>
>>4691212
>>4691208
+1
>>
>>4691212
>>4691249
>The old arcade!

>>4691213
>Ice Rink!

Writing!
>>
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Token Tower.... You almost forgot it existed. Rolling up on your FRESH RIDE in front of a large, black building plastered with heroes and monsters from arcade cabinet art. Bomber Billy, Captain Clobber, those weird alien bug things from Space Terror--they’re all there: alive but faded from years of neglect and exposure to the elements. A plexiglass crystal tower juts out of the roof above the entrance, the words Token Tower emblazoned in faded neon lights.

You sigh. This wasn’t exactly your haunt--you and your bro were boardwalk fans. Tower, though… You could definitely do worse. A few years ago this place would keep the whole damn neighborhood up, especially over the weekend when the crowds extended out the doors. If you didn’t have a big friend to cling to as they pushed their way inside, you were better off stayin’ home. Good times....

“Shall we?” Ly asks eagerly. You nod--maybe you can get Art to get the cabinets running or something! Parking your scooter in the back parking lot, you kill the engine and remove the KITTY HELMET.

As you put everything back where you found it (with the exception of the keys, which you keep), you affectionately run your hand over the side of the scooter. She did good, damn it.

“It’d be a waste ta’ get rid of her now…” Ly agrees, looking at the scooter with pride. Giving your stallion one last pat, you make your way to the back entrance of the arcade and try the door.

Locked.

“...Should we knock, or?” Ly asks, poking his head through the door. Good question!
>Knock! It’s only polite!
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>Quietly cut the lock.
>KICK THE DOOR DOWN
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691375
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
We didn't strike that dubious deal for nothing, come on and earn your rent Ly.
>>
Getting a bit tired, so I think I'll call it here for today. Should have a lot of free time tomorrow, though, so expect an update around 9-10AM PST! Thanks again for playing and see you tomorrow!
>>
>>4691375
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>>
>>4691375
>>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>>
>>4691394
>>4691525
>>4691547
Lyve it to him! Writing!
>>
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As you prepare to knock on the door, an unnerving thought starts pushing the rusty gears in your head… What if… No…

“What’s up, cupcake?” Ly asks, “You uh… You thinkin again?”
Yes--it’s a curse, Ly. It’s a curse to be at 100% 24/7! Your skeleton responds with an eye roll that would give a teenager a run for their money.

“Yea, must be rough. Penny for your thoughts?”

What if, and this is just you spectating here, what if Art and Syb aren’t here?! Ly’s eye sockets widen.

“What are you talkin’ about, kid?”

Exactly what you’re saying: what if Art gave you a FAKE address and is leading you into a TRAP?!

“Okay, I’ll bite--why would he do that, exactly?” Ly asks, rubbing his temples.

Simple--he wants you out of the picture, you answer, beginning to pace back and forth. He KNOWS that once he and Sybil get married and have eight beautiful kids (with Sybil’s looks, of course) you’ll be around the house 24/7 playing ‘Cool Aunt Stan’--but what if there was no Stan? What if she perished in an UNFORTUNATE ARCADE ACCIDENT?

“Sta-”

The answer is simple, Ly--NO Stan plus ONE Art plus ONE Sybil equals CATASTROPHE! You shake your head mournfully as it all fits together--you expected something like this to happen, but not this soon--maybe after their fifth or sixth kid, tops. Art’s a real cold-blooded freak, huh Ly?

Your skeleton takes a deep breath like a teacher about to explain why something is incorrect.

“Stan, I… Look, I’m just gonna pretend ya’ didn’t just say all dat’ because I was really impressed by what you did back there on da’ scooter.”

D’aww, shucks, you giggle, bashfully scratching the back of your head.

“But I know reason an’ basic logic don’t work on ya’, so I’ll just pivot: why don’t I scout things out for ya’ ta’ put your mind at ease, eh?”

You stroke an imaginary beard as you contemplate Ly’s idea. Yes… yes, that will do just fine. If Art’s in there he won’t be able to see Ly, and your skeleton is much better equipped for locating traps. You can already tell there’s gonna be a LOT of them--Art’s a sicko, after all.

“Fantastic. Just sit tight an’ I’ll report back in a jiff.”

Before you can warn him about the possibility of GHOST TRAPS, your skeleton sinks through the pavement and enters the arcade like some sort of SHARK GHOST.

You’ll uh… You’ll just wait here!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4692104
https://youtu.be/bGUYW9EfIsQ
Your name is Ly--you’re a loose-cannon detective who gets da’ job done, no matter what, even if da’ dame you’re workin’ for is more mixed up than a banana smoothie. Da’ job was simple--reconnoiter da’ old arcade for any sign of your old pals Sybil and Art. They were supposed ta’ meet ya’ here after things got too hot at da’ school, but something’s got your client paranoid. Again. Sometimes you wonder if she’s got a quota ta’ hit or somethin’, but dat’ kinda thinkin’ is above your paygrade--best ta’ just grin and nod.

So here you are casein’ da’ joint for traps, bad guys, and anything dat’ might (god forbid) prove Stan right. You know she’ll never let you live it down if she’s correct, so you decide ta’ play dis’ thorough--gliding through da’ floor like a manta ray, you enter the back entrance with no problem--so far, so good. If memory serves, dis’ joint has a few BATHROOMS, a management OFFICE, the MAIN ARCADE FLOOR, and a small DININ’ AREA that serves only da’ finest cuisine da’ freezer can provide.

If you were Art and Syb, where would YOU hide?
>Check da ARCADE!
>Check da BATHROOMS!
>Check da OFFICE!
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4692109
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
That's where Colonel Mustard always committed his crimes!

Also I love the drawings and edits so much lmao they're awesome
>>
>>4692109
>Check da ARCADE!
something tells me Art is dorking out
>>
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>>4692113
Thanks--they're basically my silent apology for having no drawing talent of my own. Still amazed that I can sometimes draw Stan!

I'll give it a little longer before doing a tie-breaker: here's some FRESH animation to sweeten the deal! HAPPY FRIDAY
>>
>>4692109
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
They're probably having a romantic dinner and forgetting all about poor Stan!
>>
>>4692113
>>4692281
>Food for thought!

>>4692145
>Nerd shit

Writing!
>>
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You know one thing about meatbags--they love eating. Love it. Your pal Stomach talks to you about it all the time--if he’s not gushing over the last meal Stan ate, he’s complaining about the LACK of food, or booze, or weight... Then Liver, Brain, and Ovaries get involved and suddenly everyone’s moanin’. Point is, humans eat, and you’d bet your bottom phalange that Syb and Art will be there too, no doubt havin’ a candlelit dinner of microwave pizza and flat soda.

The intel Brain provided checks out--making a beeline for where you remember the dining area is, you emerge in a blacklit room with several small glowing tables and stools--the perfect oasis for a bunch of kids lookin’ ta’ recharge after hours of wastin’ quarters an’ playin’ video games.

In da’ back of da’ room there sits a counter barring entrance to a SMALL KITCHEN and FREEZER, a few MICROWAVES (the appliances), and a SODA and SOFT SERVE ICE CREAM machine. Above the counter sits a menu written in sci-fi lettering and glowing an eerie shade of green. You scoff--no milk anywhere. Sure, there’s some dairy in pizza, but you know not to point that out to Stan--you’ve seen what she can do to an XL wit' mushrooms...

It still haunts you.

Ignoring the chills running down your astral spine, you suddenly notice that you aren’t alone in the room! As you expected, Syb and Art sit at a central table--the former’s doll head buried in a notebook, the latter’s head buried in a slice of pepperoni.

“Sho ya shee,” Art mumbles before swallowing, “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Reasonable.” Sybil replies, not looking up from her writing. “But I think you made the right choice splitting us up, Arthur--she’s probably already halfway here, if not here already. Beneath that outer shell of zero impulse control and forethought, Stan’s actually quite capable of surviving on her own!”

The doll looks up from her notebook, a whimsical look on her face. “What I wouldn’t give to run some tests on that magnificent brain of hers… A shame she’s such a light sleeper…”

Hey, they’re talkin’ about Stan! What do?
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>Make yourself KNOWN. No need to sneak around!
>Check ANOTHER room--is dis’ place secure?
>Report BACK TA’ STAN.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
Lets see what these dorks are talking about.
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>>
>>4692338
>>4692397
>>4692405
Apologies, an appointment went a little later than I thought it would! Writing!
>>
Aaaaand nevermind--a bit drunk tonight. Will update tomorrow around 10ish PST! Sorry about that!
>>
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You hunker down for some more snoopin’--who knows what dese’ guys think’a Stan?

“Gotta admit, that’s been stumping me.” Art adds, ignoring Sybil’s last statement. “You’ve known her for a while--any ideas as to what makes Stan so…”

“Stan?” Sybil replies, raising a yarn eyebrow at Art, who nods.

“Stan is an anomaly, plain and simple,” the doll replies, staring back down at her notes. “Most of it is pure conjecture on my part, but I attribute her ‘Stan Factor’, to use a made up term, to two main elements--Wild Magic Contamination and Socio-emotional Anxiety.”

Art chews the cheese off of a piece of crust before tossin’ it back on da’ plate.

“Uh… One of those things is not like the other…”

“Indeed. It took me some time to notice--I wasn’t always a student of the arcane arts like I am now--I was thinking more ‘zookeeper’, to be honest.” Sybil closes her notebook with a wave of her arm stump, then glances back at Art.
“So uh… What’s the deal with magical contamination anyways?” Art continues, drumming his fingers on his helmet sitting next to him on the table.

“The ‘deal’,” Sybil begins, tapping her chin with an arm stub, “Is that it’s unpredictable, especially the ‘wild magic’ variety. Masters of the arcane have studied its effects on places, people, and things for generations, but there’s really only one conclusion they’ve come to.”

“Which is?” Art asks, leaning forward, eyes wide.

“That it’s unmeasurable, unpredictable, and uncontrollable. Infinitely powerful, yes, but dangerous as well. Most arcane scholars characterize the use of magic as an exertion of force or change upon the very fabric of reality.”

Sybil pauses to see if Art’s followin’--he makes a strange movement between a nod and a shrug, causing her to continue.

“But unlike physics and chemistry, they’re wielding a force that doesn’t abide by what we accept as law. Magic has no conservation of energy or mass, nor does it follow patterns we can comprehend. In short, wild magic has a myriad of effects, and none of them are easy to predict.”

Concluding her lecture, Syb turns to Art for further questions. The guard is already on another slice of pizza.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693412
“Sho itsch like…” He mumbles, pausing to swallow, “Radioactive waste. In uh… In comic books.”

The doll nods, impressed.

“Excellent analogy, Arthur--on one hand: superpowers!” The doll agrees, lifting an arm stump. “On the other: Lymphoma!” She raises the other. Art blinks.

“So what’s your take on Stan’s superpower?”

The doll furrows its brow. “Well the immediate effect is detectability. Stan’s a walking hotspot of wild magic radiation--it’s how I’m able to track her down so easily. Unfortunately that makes her very easy to find by other magic users as well--that specialist included.”

Art nods. “So she’s a lighthouse. Gotcha.”

Sybil shakes her head. “Yes, but there’s more--though I have no idea what this magical contamination will have on her in the long run, I believe it had a hand in keeping her safe from the lich, AND potentially creating Ly.”

Say WHAT now?!

“I said it might have a hand in creating you, Ly.” the doll continues. Oh, ok-

Art raises an eyebrow as Sybil turns your way, arm stumps on her hips.

“How long were you going to eavesdrop anyways? Please join us.”

Embarrassed, you float into the room and do your best to lean against the table. It uh…. You didn’t mean it!

“No harm done, Ly--I’m glad to see that you and Stan arrived in one piece. Is she in here with you?” The doll asks, cocking her head to the side as Art looks confused.

Yea, you reply, she’s outside. Told me ta’ scope da’ place out first in case uh… There were traps, you say, omitting the part about Art being the mastermind.

“In that case we can talk for a little while longer.” Sybil nods. “Like I was saying, the effects of wild magic manifest in many different ways--it’s possible that the lich jump started a chain reaction resulting in… Well… You, Ly.”

You blink. Is dat’ what happened? The doll shrugs in response.

“It’s pure conjecture on my part, nothing more. There are several elements we haven’t taken into account including Stan’s erm… familiarity with chemicals, cleaning and otherwise, the magical topography of Clearwater… Her dealings with that Fae...” Sybil spits the last part, a sour look on her face.

“And her social stuff, right?” Art adds, causing the doll’s eyes to light up.

“Of course, that too!” Sybil exclaims, clapping her arm stubs together. “In fact, the two go hand-in-hand! Arthur, what do you know about Stanton F. Breckinridge?”

“Absolutely nothing!” The guard replies, almost too quickly.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693414
“Breckinridge is an authority on magical contamination.” Sybil explains, “Well… Was. His experiments with wild magic attracted the attention of some particularly foul extradimensional--well, it doesn’t matter. The point is, he observed several cases of contaminees acting in ways they wouldn’t normally.”

Da’ heck does dat’ mean?

“Exactly what it sounds like, Ly. Out of character behavior, the illusion of ‘choices’ for simple decisions… The sense of ‘losing oneself’. These effects have been noted to increase or decrease based on proximity to magical ley lines, the position of astral bodies, and, most importantly, severe stress.”

“What’s that got to do with Stan?” Art asks idly spinning some crust on his plate. “She doesn’t exactly strike me as the most tightly-wound person.”

“Still waters, Arthur.” Sybil replies, a gleam in her eye. “As you might expect, Stanley doesn’t have many friends. Loving, albeit preoccupied parents, no romantic partners unless she’s been very discreet…”

Hahahah, no partners! You can confirm dat’!

“Pity.” Sybil replies.

“Oooh! Oooh!” Art hoots, recognition glowing in his eyes, “What about her brother?!”

Sybil nods, a strange look on her face. “Yes… Her brother. That’s a mystery that still eludes me to this day.”

Why though, you ask. Didn’t she ever meet him?

“I did, and that’s not the point.” Sybil fires back. “Sue Parble was, for all intents and purposes, a fantastic sibling. He was Stan’s anchor, from what I could discern. You can imagine the effect it had when he stopped talking to her.

“So that’s what happened…” Art muses. “Wait, why did they stop talking, again?”

Sybil turns to you.

“It’s embarrassing, but I really don’t know…” The doll explains rubbing the back of her head. “I’ve asked her parents a few times, but they didn’t want to elaborate. From what I can infer, they had a falling out of sorts--sometime around Sue’s wedding.”

You think back to that day, but everythin’ turns up blank! How drunk was dat’ girl?!

“You seem confused, Ly.” Sybil muses, watching your face. “I worry that alcohol was just a cover for whatever happened then. A defense mechanism preventing her from remembering what happened.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to remember?” Art asks. “Wouldn’t that help her feel better, or something?”

“Maybe eventually.” Sybil replies, nodding. “In the short term, though, it might damage her quite a bit. Perhaps permanently. More importantly, I wouldn’t be surprised if whatever transpired had something to do with that magical contamination I mentioned earlier.”

You rub your jawbone. Out of character behavior, huh? The doll nods.

“Precisely. One of several incidents in her life.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693417
“So… What exactly does all of this mean, then?” Art continues, brow furrowed. “Do we just not bring it up?”

“It’s the best idea I have in the short term.” Sybil sighs. “We need Stan at her best if we want to see the end of this. To go back to our previous discussion, Arthur, I wouldn’t take her jabs seriously--psychologically speaking she subconsciously doesn’t want another person close to her to leave her: she probably worries that if you two become close, in the long run it could mean losing you.”

“Losing me meaning…?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Losing contact, death, etc.” The doll mutters. “She’ll come around. Once she likes you Stan is like a dog… Or a very loyal raccoon...” A perplexed look on her face, Sybil directs her attention to you.

“That said, Ly, I’m putting you in charge of her well-being. You’ve been doing an exemplary job so far, so I think it’s high-time we made it official.”

You salute. No problemo!

“And, in the event that she doesn’t survive…” The doll begins,

You won’t let it happen, you say, puffing out your ribcage!

“Oh, no. I was going to ask if you could try to preserve her brain.” Sybil replies, a disconcerting look in her doll eyes. “I may have uses for it…”

“Errr…” Art begins, looking between the doll and where she’s staring, “W-What’s your take on this, Ly? I can’t really hear or see you, but… What do you think is behind all of Stan’s uh… Antics?”

What indeed? You’re kinda da’ resident Stan expert here--what’s YOUR take?
>Wild magic. Gotta be. No way a normal human would be like dat.
>To be fair, Stan’s been around a LOTTA’ chemicals and fumes...
>She’s never really got along wit’ people--my guess is that it’s mostly dat’.
>I think Stan’s like a dog and just does things arbitrarily.
>Someon’s pullin’ da’ strings! Aliens, maybe?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693419
>Wild magic. Gotta be. No way a normal human would be like dat.
A combination of this and plain old kookiness
>>
>>4693419
>She’s never really got along wit’ people--my guess is that it’s mostly dat’.

Also I love that Stan's parents' pranks screwed over her brother in the naming department as well lol
>>
>>4693417
>Sue Parble
A nice double joke. Kudos!

>>4693419
>Mind control from another dimension?
>>
>>4693428
>>4693445
Stan's parents are the true villains of this tale...

>>4693426
>>4693428
>>4693445
Gonna try to mix these all together! Writing!
>>
>>4693483
Was Stan's dad possibly named Tim?
>>
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>>4693488
My notes inform me that her dad's name is Oscar, but I'd say 3/4ths of this quest is written under the influence, so who the hell knows? Dun dun DUUUNNNN

You ponder what you, Sybil, and Art just discussed. It goes without sayin’ dat’ your uh… Partner… Is far from normal, but you tend ta’ take a lot of dat’ for granted--after all, if you listened to every single complaint da’ other organs piled on you 24/7, you’d have lost your mind ages ago!

Nah, Syb’s probably onta’ somethin’ wit’ her ideas. Stan’s a big weirdo when it comes ta’ social interaction, sure, but not dat’ weird! Wit’ everything you’ve seen in the last few days it wouldn’t surprise ya’ if some of Stan’s actions were controlled by someone or someTHING else… Hell, who’s ta’ say she isn’t bein’ mind-controlled by an extra-dimensional being? Or BEINGS?

Sybil relays your thoughts to Art, who scoffs. “What, you mean she’s controlled by multiple beings?! PSSSH. Get real!”

“The truth is stranger than fiction, Arthur.” Sybil says, shooting the guard a sideways glance. “If there is some truth in what Ly says, then I hope the ‘puppeteers’ are merciful…”

“Ten bucks say they get bored and drop it before Part 7.” Art mumbles.

“Come now, be reasonable.” Sybil chides, “7’s far too optimistic. My money’s on Part 6.”

Clearing your nonexistent throat, you take a moment to look around the dining area. What would people have to gain from manipulatin’ Stan?

“You’d better check on Stan, Ly.” Sybil advises, going back to her notebook. “An idle mind is the devil’s playground, as they say…”

“Yea, better grab her before she finds a mineshaft to drop into or something.” Art nods. “We can plan our next move when she’s ready.”

You look back in the direction of where Stan is presumably waitin’--cripes, who knows what she’s been gettin’ into since you left her? Then again… This is a good time to talk shop with the others without her present…

What do?
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>Mind if I SCOUT da’ rest of da’ place first?
>Got a QUESTION for you guys (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
Its probably kinda cold out there.
>>
>>4693516
>>4693517
>>4693534
Don't just STAN there! Writing!
>>
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Well, you begin, floatin’ in da’ air, it’s been fun talkin’ behind Stan’s back, but they’re right--she really oughta’ be supervised.

“Yea, wouldn’t want the president of her fan club to show up again.” Art groans, wiping some tomato sauce from his mouth with a napkin. Sybil gives you a pleasant smile and a nod, then returns to her notebook--who knows what’s goin’ on there…

It only takes you a few seconds to swoop through the walls and back to where you left Stan. You gotta say--this ‘ghost mode’ thing has its perks! Emerging through the back door, you politely inform Stan dat’ da’ coast is clear!

Or… You would. If she was here.

https://youtu.be/pT4FY3NrhGg

The back entrance is barren, save for the remains of a vent cover on the ground and some cigarette bu--WAIT A MINUTE!

Panic sets in as you realize what’s happening--Stan LOVES vents! LOVES ‘EM! And who’s to say she didn’t hear you all talkin’ about her just now?!

You burst back into the dining area, panic on your astral face. Sybil looks up from her notes again, a concerned look on her face.

“What is it, Ly? Is something amiss?”

“Stan probably fell down a well or something.” Art snorts. “Or ate poison ivy.”

You scan the ceiling for any evidence of Stan--there’s industrial ducts EVERYWHERE! Stan’s INSIDE, you sputter! She’s in the vents!

“In the ducts?” Sybil replies, glancing uneasily towards the ceiling.

“What, she’s climbing around in them?” Art scoffs. “A man wouldn’t do that.”

This isn’t a man!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693590
Your name is Stanley Parble, and you saw everything.

EVERYTHING!

Peering through a grille at your dickhead friends, you silently seethe. There they are, acting as if nothing happened--that they’re all innocent!

FOOLS!

They thought they could just leave you outside! Forget about you! Oh, how wrong they were...

You’ll show them, though--you’ll show them what happens when they go behind your back!

No one… And you mean NO ONE, has a PIZZA PARTY WITHOUT YOU!

You smelled it a mile away--the classic Tower Special: Mushrooms, onions, and bits of sausage baked on garlic herb crust! Microwaved to PERFECTION!

Art’s not even eating the crust! The hell is wrong with that freak!? And Ly can’t even eat it--what’s the point?!

Shifting in your perch ever so slightly, a wicked grin forms on your face. Yes… They’ll get what’s coming to them, alright, and they’ll rue the day they left you outside in the cold while they munched on FREE PIZZA.

It’s time to deliver a ‘pizza’ of your own.... Extra COMEUPPANCE, hold the MERCY!

How do you approach your jerkass friends?
>BURST through the vents! Surprise!
>LURE them away from each other--you can scare them INDIVIDUALLY.
>Creep in STEALTHILY--emerge from the shadows!
>Enter CASUALLY. They’ll never know what you saw and it will HAUNT THEM!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693593
>Creep in STEALTHILY--emerge from the shadows!
Metal Gear Solid: Tactical Pizza Extraction Action
>>
>>4693593
>BURST through the vents! Surprise!
>>
>>4693593
>LURE them away from each other--you can scare them INDIVIDUALLY.
Like a proper horror monster.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>4693598 -- 1
>>4693601 -- 2
>>4693646 -- 3

You guys and your ties... I'm gonna roll for which strat we're going for! I need 3 ROLLS to determine how things go, so feel free to roll away once I post this update!
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Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4693712
Rolling!
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Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>4693712
Did I hear jump the gun?
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Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4693712
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>>4693721
>>4693726
>>4693768
Oh you’ll get even with them, alright…. You’re gonna scare the PANTS off of them!
https://youtu.be/Nfhy0S93Ivk
And the… Pants.... bones in Ly’s case!

You creep through the vent like a ghost as you hear your companions start to realize the gravity of the situation.

“Can’t you locate her?” Art asks, nervousness creeping into his voice as he looks around the room!

“I know she’s near, but I can’t get a bead on her right now!” Sybil shouts, scanning the room with glowing blue eyes!

“Me neither!” Reports Ly, floating over to where you just were in the vent! SLOPPY! He turns your way for a moment, but too late--you’re merely a shadow!

All of those hours playing Frigid Blades paid off--the ducts above reach into smaller vents in the room below--luckily they haven’t noticed yet with all of the black lights....

“Sh-show yourself, Stan!” Sybil shouts, scanning the corners for movement!

“Yea! G-get out here already!!” Art stutters, his face sweating more than usual.

Three thugs, two armed. This’ll be easy. With a Cheshire grin you quickly and quietly remove the bolts from the wall fastening the vent cover and prepare to strike--the question is, WHO gets the BIGGEST scare?

>Art. That bastard didn’t eat the crust--no mercy for him!
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
>Ly. That RAT. He’s supposed to support you! Besides, doesn’t pizza have calluses or whatever for bones?
>WRITE-IN
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>>4693816
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
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>>4693816
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
>>
>>4693828
>>4693871
Sybil's about to get fukken rekt

Writing
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Sybil. You expected this shit from Art and Ly, but not from HER. She thinks she’s so cool with her magic and goth chic, but you’re about to show EVERYONE who the alpha wolf is around here!

You slip from the vent like a snake and slither towards Sybil’s tiny form as Ly moves on to another section of vents and Art pokes his rifle behind the counter. As you creep closer, you can almost feel the cold air radiating around Syb’s form--good thing she isn’t here in person or you could actually get vaporized. It’s not easy to piss her off, but you remember what happened to her ex--you’re not even sure you should be thinking about it if you want to keep your head…

Anyways, you get to the table with relative ease--to their credit Ly and Art are doing a good job of searching, but they forgot the most important rule of Hide and Seek:

Don’t play with Stan.

Like a shark surfacing to attack a seal, you slowly rise from below, doing your best to ignore the tempting scent of pizza wafting into your nose a few inches away. All in good time, Stan--all in good time…

“Stan, you’ve made your point, now let’s be reasonable and ta--” Sybil begins, but never finishes!

Like a cat grabbing a canary, your arm darts from the shadows, wrapping around the doll’s midsection! Completely taken by surprise, the doll lets out the girliest shriek you’ve heard in… Well… Ever, causing Ly and Art to spin and face you! Regaining her composure, a wide-eyed Sybil covers her mouth and turns to you, panic still evident even on her doll’s face!

“S-st-STAN!” She stutters as the two guys maintain their distance. Narrowing your eyes, you glare at your prey--did she think you wouldn’t notice?!

“I.. I… We-”

Did she think you wouldn’t CARE!?

“Stan, look--” Art begins, not sure whether to put his gun down or not.

You watched it ALL, damn it! After all of these years she thinks she can do that to you? Is she INSANE?!

“Stan, I…” Sybil mutters, the light fading from her eyes. “We didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Too bad, now they’re paying the ultimate prrrrrriiiiiiiice, you growl, letting the word ‘price’ build in your throat! Sybil opens her mouth to say something, but it’s TOO LATE--you’re ending this now!

>CONTD.
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>>4694166
How DARE they leave you out in the cold while they eat pizza, you hiss, sticking your thumb in the direction of the still-steaming Tower Special on the table! Have they no hearts?!

“You… I thought--” Sybil begins, but you cover her mouth with a finger.

Out of all of these idiots SHE’S the one who knows how much you love pizza, and now look--you bet they weren’t even going to leave you a slice!

“Stan, we weren’t--” Ly mutters.

“Yes!” Art exclaims, as if he just realized what was going on--MORON. “I was hungry and I whipped up the pizza--you had that marrow earlier, but I was starving so… Yea.”

You stomach the urge to pounce on Art for a moment and glare at him. Is that SO?

“Yep! And uh… We took it out when we saw Ly, but you weren’t there and we didn’t want it to get cold, so I grabbed a plate!”

It all makes sense--you’d probably want to eat it too if it was gonna get cold…

“So um… Sorry about that! My bad!” Art laughs, scratching the back of his head. Glancing down at the doll in your hand, you raise an eyebrow--is this true?

“Yes… I’m sorry, Stan, but I knew you would never forgive us for wasting pizza and Ly was just about to grab you, but we got caught up talking about how much you love pizza! You know how it goes!” Syb explains, an embarrassed grin on her face.

Well then… Now you feel terrible--you could have killed Art back there!

“Wait, wha”

“Water unda’ da’ bridge, right?” Ly asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “You know we’re always lookin’ out for ya, cupcake!”

Hey, yea! They’re your pals--they’d never do anything to piss you off intentionally! Even ART!

“That’s right…” Art replies, the words forming slowly in his mouth, “We’re pals now, Stan.”

You smile at him. Yep, even if he is a dork. Guess he wasn’t trying to kill you after all, huh?

“Nnnno.” The guard replies, raising an eyebrow your way. Letting Sybil free from your vise grip, you watch as she shakes the residual ‘heebie jeebies’ out and composes herself.

“Rrright. Well then, welcome, Stan. Have some pizza.”

You DO! Guess what--it’s delicious! You even snag the crust Art was too much of a freak to eat.

“Now that we’re all convened, let’s debrief about what’s happened in the past day. Time, it seems, is no longer on our side anymore.” Sybil remarks, looking around the room.

“Stan, you’re the leader of the ‘gang’. You wanna start us off?” Art asks, holstering his rifle and grabbing another slice of ‘zza.

Sure, but what’s first on the agenda?
>Let’s talk about WHERE we’re hitting NEXT.
>Why did we meet HERE? Are we safe?
>How’s everyone DOING?
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
>WRITE-IN
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>>4694170
>Why did we meet HERE? Are we safe?
>>
Gonna play a tabletop with some pals for a while, so I might check in later--otherwise I'll update TOMORROW around 9-10AM PST! Thanks again for playing--you guys are the real heroes!
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>>4694170
>Let’s talk about WHERE we’re hitting NEXT.
Yo Art where are those information places you were talking about?
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
We still have Mr. X chasing us. We bought some time, but he's still heading toward us as we speak.
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?

>>4694527
He feels more like Nemesis to me, given his obvious intelligence and speed. Laser eyes are a new twist though, didn't see that coming, despite the melted deer.
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
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>>4694493
>>4694527
>>4694557
>>4694792
Let's talk about our new fan first! Writing!
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Scarfing down another slice of pizza, you nod. First thing’s first--we need to talk about that Tambor guy.

“Talbot?” Sybil asks, raising an eyebrow. Yea, him!

“We didn’t really stick around to study him.” Art explains, hand hovering over another slice of ‘zza. “The bad news is that he doesn’t seem to care about collateral damage--Syb and I watched him take down some greasers who didn’t leave quickly enough…”

Sybil nods. “This leads me to two conclusions: first, this specialist, whoever he is, is intelligent--not just a mindless slave.”

Yea, you noticed. He really knew how to put that noggin to use trying to kill you.

“When Stan an’ I were escapin’, we set a trap in da’ Home Ec room ta’ cover our exit!” Ly chips in, “An’ dat’ freak set our own trap on us! Blew da’ school sky-high!” Your skeleton concludes with an explosion sound for emphasis. Spot on, Ly.

“That leads me to my second conclusion,” Sybil continues, “Which is that this skeleton isn’t like the others.”

You almost fall out of your stool--WHUH-REALLY?! Sybil gives you ‘The Look’ and you quietly apologize.

“We’re looking at an agent of the lich with extraordinary strength, durability, and drive. I think it’s safe to say that Stan’s no longer safe staying in one place for too long.”

Weird, though, you muse, tapping your chin, what about when you were at Sybil’s? Or sleeping in the tree outside of Good Boy? Why track you down now?

“To be fair, the school fight wasn’t exactly a quiet affair.” Sybil replies, “You spent plenty of time in a high-profile place--assuming the specialist is constantly moving, it was probably only a matter of time before you crossed paths.”

“That or Rocky planned for him to show up.” Art mutters, absorbed in thought.

“I’m glad you brought that up.” Sybil remarks, smiling in Art’s direction. “Rocky gave us a few clues--small though they were.”

You snap your finger. She’s RIGHT! He mentioned something about him losing your signal, yea? Sybil nods.

“Exactly. That explains why he didn’t find you in my apartment--I’ve warded it several times over specifically for situations like this. Unless he saw you walk in there, he would probably assume you just disappeared off of the face of the Earth.”

Hey, there we go! You slap the table excitedly as you lean towards Sybil. Let’s ward this place up!

“No.”

>CONTD.
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>>4695020
You feel yourself deflate a bit. Say what?

“I said no.” Sybil replies. “Protective wards take time to set up--something we don’t have in abundance at the moment. Moreover, I wouldn’t be able to do it in this form--I’d have to join you physically.”

“No way.” Art states, shaking his head. “You can do plenty in doll form--no sense in exposing yourself to unnecessary danger.”

“I thought the same thing.” Sybil replies, a conflicted look on her face. “There’s no doubt that my magical abilities would be stronger in person, but it’s true--I’d also be exposing myself to danger. We might not have a choice, however… In any case, we can discuss that later--we need to discuss important things while we still can. What else do you remember Rocky saying, Stan?”

The rusty gears in your head turn as you hearken back to the fight. You remember it like it was yesterday… Yesterday…. Ye-

“NO!” Ly barks, sending a pain through your skull! “NO MORE FLASHBACKS, DAMN IT!”

Fine, jeez! Let’s see, he mentioned that freak would always know where you are, that he was handled by that researcher with the nice legs--

“Of course!” Sybil exclaims! “Professor Venaas! The captive human you saw in the fortress!” The doll scribbles something excitedly in her notebook. “Rocky mentioned she was running that project and that it required maintenance, yes?”

“Maintenance?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow, “What is it, a robot or something?”

The four of you sit in silence for a moment, contemplating Art’s words.

“I don’t think so.” Sybil states, breaking the silence. “It’s too unpredictable to be a robot.”

Yea, and it can run. Art and Sybil’s eyes go wide.

“That’s…” Art begins, “That’s against the rules.”

That’s what YOU said! This guy SUCKS!

“The robot theory DOES support the laser eyes.” Sybil interjects, nodding. “However, there’s too much we just don’t know, and there’s only one way to get an answer.”

The LIBRARY.

“No, Stan. I was thinking about Rocky’s final clue. ‘Secret Woods’.” Sybil counters, emphasizing the last words.

“Now dat’ ya mention it…” Ly begins, scratching his jaw, “Wasn’t there footprints around da’ factory when we woke up in da tree?”

You feel your heart sink into your stomach. This doesn’t mean you have to go on a NATURE EXCURSION, does it?

“If we want to get to the bottom of this ‘specialist’ business, then yes.” Sybil affirms. “There’s no better place to hide a secret laboratory in Clearwater than the Redwood Preserve. Which reminds me…”

Sybil quietly chants, causing a rolled up piece of paper to form in the center of the table! Moving the remainder of the pizza out of the way, you take a closer look at what Sybil whipped up.

Looks like a map!

>CONTD.
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>>4695021
“I thought it would be best for us to get our bearings.” Sybil explains, flattening out the corners. “We can refer to this as we decide our next step, but to conclude my previous point, if the lab is anywhere, it’s most likely around HERE.” The doll states, pointing to the part of the map detailing the Redwood Preserve.

“Sounds like we’d be searching for a really small needle in a really big haystack.” Art groans, leaning back in his stool. You nod--you could be out there for days, and think about the MOUNTAIN LIONS.

“In that case,” Sybil pivots, slight annoyance in her voice, “Let’s talk about the short-term. We know that unless an area is magically warded, this ‘specialist’ will track you down eventually.”

You, Art, and Ly nod--sounds about right!

“We also know that he’s one tough cookie.” Art adds. “Small arms might as well be NARF gun pellets.”

Yea. He also didn’t really seem to care about being lit on fire or blown up--the whole school was falling around him and he acted like it was drizzling.

“In that case, I propose some experiments.” Sybil announces, a glint in her eye. “When he tracks Stan down again, let’s try some more… Unorthodox techniques.”

Meaning?

“Electricity. Water. Acid, if we can find it. Gravity is also a promising candidate.”

The doll snags a piece of sausage from the pizza, then drops it over the edge of the table. Okay, that’s how you get ants!

“If those aren’t available, you run. Got it?” Sybil asks, pointing an arm stub at you viciously.

Gotcha, you reply, not entirely intimidated after hearing her scream earlier. Nodding, Sybil gestures to the map.

“Right then, what’s next on the agenda?”

Next, you begin, is she’s gonna pick up that sausage.

“Stan, it’s fine. Pick something else.”

>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.
>Why did we meet h

NO, it isn’t! Pick it up! The doll groans, then dips under the table to fetch it.

>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.
>Why did we meet HERE? Is it SAFE?
>How’s everyone DOING?
>Let’s talk about SYB coming here PHYSICALLY.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695023
>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.

Let's ask Art where the hell this security place is with info, and how close it is to Syb's apartment. Ideally, we can grab the information and then head back there to pour over it without worrying about Talbot finding us. Also, we may be able to use Talbot strategically- if we lure him over to the security station, then GBDB will have to fight that thing and we'll be all clear to sneak inside and grab what we need.
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>>4695023
Supporting
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>>4695042
>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT
Also supporting, I still really am not a big fan of fighting this guy face to face with our current powerset though.
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>>4695042
>>4695071
>>4695133
Next stop on the Skelly Smashers Tour is...

Writing!
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Sybil returns shortly from the floor, sausage lazily hovering in the air next to her.

“Better, Stan?” She asks, an impatient tone in her voice. Better, but not perfect--toss it in the trash can, please!

As the doll floats to the nearest garbage can (muttering under her breath the whole way) you take a gander at the map once more--it’s good stuff, you’ll admit that. Makes things a bit easier to plan!

“So uh… Where to?” Art asks, leaning over to get a glimpse of the map.

Well, you begin, you’re pretty sure your options are as follows, and you’ve come up with OPERATION NAMES for each one!

MISSION SELECT THEME https://youtu.be/KgvFmhP7GMs

OPERATION DUSTY BONES: Infiltrate the Museum to find dirt/useful stuff for tracking down the SEA WITCH!

OPERATION CLEAR SKIES: Head to JOPLIN to learn more about the COWPOKE!

OPERATION FISH N’ CHIPS: Head to the coast to recon PIRATE ACTIVITY!

OPERATION WATER GATE: Journey to the HYDROELECTRIC DAM to see what the GENERAL has cooking up there!

OPERATION HAPPY TRAILS: Scout the REDWOOD PRESERVE for signs of a SECRET LAB!

OPERATION OVERTIME: Head to one of the SECURITY STATIONS Art mentioned and grab some Good Boy Intel!

OPERATION TO BE DECIDED: INSERT DETAILS OF YOUR OPERATION HERE!

“...What’s with the last one?” Art asks, shooting you a quizzical look. You like to keep your options open, is all!

“What if we have another operation idea?” Art asks, looking back at the map. You smile--that’s fine! You’re in charge of the naming, though.

“You make the call, then.” Art shrugs. “You’ve been pretty good at pickin’ em’ so far…”

>Choose an operation above for more details--there will be a vote afterwards to CONFIRM it. This dictates where we go next, so naturally I’ll give some time to think about it!
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>OPERATION OVERTIME
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>>4695201
>OPERATION OVERTIME
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>>4695223
>>4695248
OPERATION OVERTIME it is! Writing!
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You tap a chunk of pizza crust on the map as you pick apart your options--needless to say you’ve got a LOT of pots boiling right now! Analyzing the map and its many destinations filled in by Sybil’s diligent han--er, arm stub, you can’t help but feel like there’s something missing…

“Confused?” Sybil asks, returning from her trip to the garbage can. “I coded the locations by letter, Stan. Here, let me show--”

No, it’s not THAT, you grumble, shaking your head. There’s something bugging you--a piece of the puzzle you haven’t placed yet.

Art, Sybil, and Ly look at each other, then all speak simultaneously.

“Good Boy.”
“Good Boy.”
“Good Boy.”

Friggin’ GOOD BOY! You exclaim, slamming your fist on the table and causing everything on it to rattle! How do they fit in all of this? Why do they have more hardware than the National Guard? Why are they sending Death Squads after you? This is America, damn it!

“It’s certainly been bugging me as well…” Sybil agrees, nodding her doll head. “Despite it all we’ve learned quite little about their stance on everything, yet they have quite a large finger dipped into the proverbial ‘pie’...”

“Don’t forget what Rocky said.” Art adds, shoving the pizza a little more towards the center of the table. “He thinks they have something to do with hiding the people… How the heck can they manage that so quickly and easily?”

You nod. They’ve had the drop on you for too long and the lieutenants aren’t going anywhere. Locating Sybil’s apartment on your map, you point at the letter and turn to Art--does he know of any Security Station around that area?

“Hmmm…” Art muses, scratching his chin as he takes a closer look, “Now that you mention it, the Station I reported to is right in that neck of the woods!” The guard turns to Sybil and grins.

“Must be fate, huh?”

Buh-ARF. Ignoring the stupid grin Sybil makes, you gesture for the group to move on--you’ve got a PLAN.

“Spill it!” Ly says, checking the map from over your shoulder. With a conspiratorial grin you clear your throat and begin explaining!

>CONTD.
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>>4695415
Sybil’s Apartment is, for better or worse, their best bet as a ‘safehouse’. It’s warded, the Good Boy Goons have already searched it, AND knowing Syb there’s a ton of snacks in the fridge.

“All true, yes.” Sybil nods.

Therefore, you continue, the Security Station around there is your best bet. You can head that way and scout things out--maybe sneak in and grab some info if you’re lucky.

“I can probably find us a way in that avoids too much suspicion!” Art boasts, giving you a thumbs up!

Super.

“And I can do a bit a’ reconnaissance too!” Ly adds, winking at you. Somehow.

Satisfied, you eagerly look around the room at your crack team--forget bacon and eggs, you’re serving up a helping of Corporate Espionage for breakfast--hold the ethics!

As your pals respond with an enthusiastic ‘YEA!’ you grab a knife from the table and STAB it into where Art’s Security Station is!

“...Stan…” Sybil murmurs, an annoyed look on her face, “Now the map is ruined.”

“Yea, that knife had sauce all over it…” Art adds.

“Really oughta’ treat people’s stuff more respectfully, cupcake.” Ly remarks.

Oh COME ON!

>CONTD.
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>>4695420
After cleaning the map and apologizing to Sybil, your CRACK team prepares for action!

“So uh…” Art asks, idly scratching his head, “How are we going about this whole thing?”

Well, erm… You begin, fidgeting in your stool.

“We have a few options.” Sybil explains, “We can go STRAIGHT THERE, we can STOP AT MY APARTMENT for SUPPLIES, or we can MAKE A DETOUR--maybe track down Cliff and the others first…”

How does she do that with her voice? Anyways, Sybil has a point--there’s more than one way to skin this cat. What’s the plan?

>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
>STOP AT SYB’S. Maybe we can gear up first!
>CONTACT CLIFF. Maybe they can help us out?
>MAKE A DETOUR ELSEWHERE (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
Talbot is already on our tail, let's use that to our advantage and have him become someone else's problem
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695429
>>4695468
>>4695492
>>4695498
Straight to the place it is! Writing!
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Wiping your mouth clean with a napkin, you stand up from your stool and grin--time and tide wait for no man!

“Neither does dat’ ‘Talbot’ guy…” Ly murmurs.

Art rises from his stool and pops his helmet on with a satisfying ‘click’ as Sybil hops into your pocket. Ly just… Does his thing.

“You’re the boss!” Art remarks, giving you a quick salute!

“I’ll do my best to provide support!” Sybil adds, giving you what you assume to be a thumb’s up on her arm stub. Unless she’s FLIPPING YOU OFF! HEY!

You and your entourage leave the way you came in--via the back entrance.

“So are we walking, or…?” Art mutters, looking at your handiwork below the broken vent. What is he, blind? You gesture to the MAGNIFICENT STEED still gleaming in the rising morning sun! Sybil and Art don’t seem as jazzed about it as you are.

“That’s uh…” Art begins, searching for the proper words, “Very visible.”

Then why did he have so much trouble finding it? Patting the seat you motion for Art to get comfy. Chop chop.

“I uh…” Art mutters, “Didn’t know you knew how to ride a scooter!”

You don’t! You did a damn good job escaping from the school with it, though! Ly pops out of your body, nodding vigorously.

“You shoulda’ seen it! She was like dat’ stunt guy… Rip... Uh… What was his name…”

RIP KORD? He’s the guy that jumped those cancer patients, right? Blindfolded?

“Dat’s da’ one. Stan was like him, only she didn’t flub da’ landin’!”

Sybil squirms in your pocket. “Stan, don’t you think it would be a good idea to use another vehicle? Perhaps one with more… Stability?”

You frown, annoyance building. Where’s their wheels, huh? Do they want to pull back a curtain on a limo or something? You’re waiting!

Crossing your arms, you wait for the two to produce anything roadworthy, but neither of them speak up.

“We uh…” Art mumbles, wringing his hands and avoiding your gaze, “We got a ride. From the greasers.”

From the GREASERS! You repeat, raising your hands towards the sky! Of course! Well then, let’s just call them up, shall we? Ask for a lift? Art shrugs.

“I mean… We could try...”

“We could also try to locate another vehicle nearby!” Sybil adds cheerfully! “I can help find something if I know what to look for!”

You give your steed a forlorn look--you haven’t even named it yet! Sensing your unease, Ly leans in close and whispers in your ear:

“They’ll follow your lead, cupcake--it’s your choice!”

At least ONE person still supports you here!

Anyways, what’s the plan?
>No dice, dicks--we’re taking the SCOOTER.
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
>Syb, see if you can LOCATE a VEHICLE (WRITE-IN TYPE).
>Let’s just WALK! It’s good for you!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695591
>Let’s just WALK! It’s good for you!
A little exercise never hurt anybody!
>>
>Updated inventory list if people need it--note the added SCOOTER KEYS under Stan's keyring! OOOOOH, fancy!

Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:
>1 SKULL HOODIE
>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS
>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS
>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES
>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.
>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)
>2 rubber boots
>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.
>1 Dead (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE
>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)
>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)
>1 KEYRING with WORK, APARTMENT, and SCOOTER KEYS
>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.
>1 SUPER HELPFUL SKELETON (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)
>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)
>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)
>1 AUTOMATED BONE SHAPER (ABS) with low battery.
>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.
>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade
>1 SYBIL DOLL (She communicates through it)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 8 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>1 ADDRESS (Given by ART)
>1 PACK OF TISSUES
>1 PACK OF CLOVE CIGARETTES
>1 MENU FOR ANDRE’S STEAKHOUSE
>1 SCOOTER KEY
>1 KITTY BIKE HELMET
>1 CLEARWATER MAP
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>>4695605
Oh yeah while we're walking let's show Sybil the funny amulet if we haven't already
>>
Got work early tomorrow, so I'll leave this decision open until 3-4PM PST! Thanks for playing as usual and have a good start to your week!
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>>4695591
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
We have a souped up van for a reason, we can use it to hold shit and its easier to fire from as well. If we walk I have a sneaking suspicion Talladega is gonna catch up to us.
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>>4695591
>No dice, dicks--we’re taking the SCOOTER.
We don't want to ride up to GB compound in a stolen GB vehicle.
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>>4695770
Wellllllll, technically we still have its official driver in it. Might actually help us out.
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>>4695591
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
Fiiiiiine, we'll get the van back. But once this whole skeleton business is over, that scooter is OURS.
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>>4695600
>Get those steps in!

>>4695614
>Show Syb your SWEET AMULET
I'll pop this in regardless of what is chosen--nice idea!

>>4695756
>>4695807
>Catch a RIIIIIIIDE

>>4695770
>Scoot on outtie

Looks like we're catching a lift! Writing!
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Part of you wants to use the scooter until you realize that there’s barely any room on it for both you and Art, and you certainly don’t want to try to drive with all of his loud breathing in your ear--you can barely stand it now!

You also got pretty lucky in finding the keys for the scooter--you’d rather not waste valuable time trying to hotwire something when you can just go for a simpler option, and in this case the simplest option is calling your GREASER PALS!

“Good call.” Art says, giving you a thumbs up. “We can also check on how they’re holding up.”

Oh right, that too! Whipping out your RADIO, you make sure it’s set to channel 9 and hold down the broadcasting button. DO YOU READ?!

“--an?!” A familiar voice asks through the scratchy speaker, “It’s Stripes--man, don’t know what da’ hell ya’ did to da’ school, but jeez--remind me ta’ not get on your bad side!”

… Yea, that was ALL YOU--watch out! Sybil gives you a look as you start stretching your legs--how’s Stripes and the rest doing anyways?

“Lost a few guys to that big guy--Wyatt took a big hit too defendin’ da front. He’s gonna be over da’ moon hearin’ you’re okay though!”

Good ole’ Wyatt. You wish him a speedy recovery!

“You seen dat’ guy? A truck couldn’t keep da’ big lug down. Anywho, I’ll let ‘em know. We’re relocatin’ to da’ Drive-In for now, but once we’re all settled in we’ll invite ya’ to da’ housewarmin’, dig?”

You dig. Ignoring Art’s impatient pantomime of a wheel rolling, you tell Stripes that you need a favor.

“Knew dis’ was comin’... Aaaah, just kiddin’! Whatcha’ need, kid?”

Wheels, for starters. You’re planning on hitting one of Good Boy’s Security Stations and you don’t want to walk.

“Say no more. Actually… Say a little more.” Stripes responds, the sound of motors revving in the background, “Got a guy who can DELIVER whatever you need, even HOLD ON TA’ STUFF too--question is, what exactly are ya’ lookin’ for?”

You grin--now he’s talkin’! What’s he got on tap?

“Hold on a sec’...” The radio goes dead for a moment, then sounds off again. “Chef’s specials for today are as follows: we’ve got a BIKE WITH A SIDECAR, perfect for speedy getaways, plus it ain’t gonna topple over easy..

A TWO-SEATER HOT ROD, engine tweaked with love and care, not to mention storage space in da’ trunk…

And lastly, DA’ VAN. We took off da’ Good Boy details, so it’ll take a bit for those goons ta’ recognize it. Lotsa space as you know, but not da’ fastest.”

Not bad, not bad…. Anything else?

“I can check, but again--we’re on da’ move here. Not exactly overflowin’ wit’ stuff right now.”

What sounds good?
>The BIKE AND SIDECAR--FAST, but FLIMSY in a fight.
>The HOT ROD--the MIDDLE option!
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
>You got any…. (WRITE-IN)
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
Just like Stan!
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>>4696692
Woah, I think you went a little too far there, anon. I can handle a lot of stuff, but BULLYING? No way. You'd better apologize to her and fast!
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>>4696704
I mean it’s kind of a compliment
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>>4696720
That will do! Leaning towards the van for now, but I'll leave this vote open a bit longer just in case!
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
Yes on the van, but also
>Have Cliff hold onto the scooter.
We want this queen for later.
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
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>>4696692
>>4696834
>>4696852
>>4696872
>Stan wants the VAN!

Writing!
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Driving across the bone-ridden hellscape that was once your hometown just wouldn’t feel right without DA’ VAN. You hear Stripes chuckle on the other end.

“I had a feelin’ you’d say dat’. One van comin’ up--you wanna tell me where ta’ send your carriage?”

You echo the address Art wrote for you, shooting the man in question a thumbs up, which he returns graciously.

“Arcade, huh?” Stripes asks, slightly bewildered. “Pretty sure dat’ place used ta’ be a butcher shop or somethin--go figure! Alright, kid, one van comin’ up--my boy will be there lickety-split!”

Cool your jets, you say, pointing a finger at the radio assertively, whoever’s dropping off the van will also be picking something of yours up. Something IMPORTANT.

“Gotcha, boss--VIC, Very Important Cargo! What kinda wheels ya got?”

It’s uh… A scooter, you reply, wistfully glancing at your steed. Can’t miss it.

“Paulie’s gonna be over da’ moon--he hasn’t driven anything with less than four wheels in ages!"

It's gonna be memorable, alright! You wink at your pals, but they don't wink back--party poopers.

"Alright, Stan, if there’s nothing else then I’ll wish ya good luck! You’re gonna need it.”

Him too! He can let you know if there’s anything they need for the Drive-In.

“Cliff’s runnin’ da’ show so I don’t expect anything bad, but we’ll give ya’ a call if anything pops up. Sit tight--your chariot’s on da’ way!”

With that, the radio goes silent. Your gang grins with anticipation--it’ll be nice to get the ole’ van back!

“I’ll say!” Art agrees, “Still can’t believe how much action it saw yesterday…”

And it’ll definitely see more today, you’re sure of that!

“Looks like we’ve got some time ta’ kill.” Ly observes, watching the road for movement. “Stripes give any ETA on this guy?”

None whatsoever. What’s your plan until then?
>Arcade games, DUH.
>Let’s SEARCH this place more!
>I wanna talk to (INSERT PAL HERE)
>I’m gonna take a NAP--wake me when something happens.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4696974
>Arcade games, DUH.
Ever heard of Omnibius? Apparently that game make makes you go CooCoo if you play it. I heard it was some CIA plot to learn how to get people addicted to stuff, like crack.
>>
Passing out over here, so I'll check in tomorrow around 3-4PM PST and write an update then! Thanks for playin' and hope to see you again next time!
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>>4696974
>Let’s SEARCH this place more!
Former butcher shop is a plot hook if I've ever seen one.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1: >>4697012
2: >>4697058

I like both these so I'll roll
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>>4697012
>Video games

>>4697058
>>4697271
Searching da' joint!

Writing!
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Suppressing a yawn, you take another look at the arcade behind you. You’ve only just got here and now you’re gonna leave? No way!

“We gonna play some games?” Ly asks, joining you in your examination of the establishment. Not this time, you answer, shaking your head--but you ARE gonna explore a bit more! Stripes said this used to be a butcher shop--you know what THAT means!

“... That it used to be a butcher shop?” Art answers, scratching his side idly. No, you frown, it means some weird shit happened here!

“Now that you mention it,” Sybil murmurs from your pocket, “I sense a slight disturbance in this place--like a… Spiritual echo.”

“Oh boy, here we go again…” Art groans, “Let’s go, then!” He sighs, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “Let’s ruin another one of my childhood haunts.”

We will once he stops being such a BABY. The question is, what room would have the WEIRDEST SHIT in an arcade?

>The DINING AREA, duh. No, it’s not an excuse to get more Pizza!
>The ARCADE. Hiding in plain sight!
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
>The BATHROOMS! Something smells, and it isn’t urinal cakes!
>The VENTS! You didn’t really get a chance to scoot around.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697704
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
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>>4697704
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
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>>4697704
>The ARCADE. Hiding in plain sight!
Listen we've got 67 cents in our wallet, if any of that is quarters we can get some sick loot from a crane game
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>>4697717
>>4697720
>The fat cat's lair!

>>4697730
Where tokens go to die!

Writing!
>>
Everyone knows that the weirdest and worst shit is committed by corporate fat cats, so we’ll be checking the office first!

“Stan, Shep Pederson was one of the nicest business owners I ever met.” Art groans as your entourage marches into the empty arcade once more! “He was a cancer survivor...”

The perfect cover, you reply, wagging your finger in the air! To get to the office you make your way through the eerily silent arcade--a far cry from the gala of lights and sounds you usually hear! Trying your best to ignore the SIREN’S CALL of booting up the cabinets for a few hours, you lead your merry band to the door marked WIZARD’S LAIR near the back. Jackpot!

Ly pops his head through the door without you even telling him--hey, he’s learning!

“Coast is clear, cupcake! It’s a mess in there, though!”

You’re a janitor--messes are your business! Extending your hand for the doorknob, you pause--what if this is a trap?

“... Syb, are you listening to this?” Art whines, glancing at the doll in your pocket.

“You get used to it.” The doll replies, a knowing look in her button eyes. “Stan, do what you see fit--just remember we’re expecting company soon.”

That’s what you like to hear! How do you open the door?

>SHOOT IT OPEN!
>BONE CLAWS!
>Open it politely and quietly.
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697825
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
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>>4697825
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
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>>4697839
>>4697842
SPIN KICK IT IS! Roll me a 1d100 to splinter this shit--I'll take the best of 3 rolls!
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Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>4697884
Secret Parble Technique #12: Spin Kick of Death
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Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>4697884
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>4697884
>>
>>4697891
>>4697893
>>4697911
>Highest Roll: 69 :^)
Writing!
>>
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You lick the tip of your pointer finger, then raise it to test the wind.

“We’re inside, cupcake.” Ly reports helpfully. Exactly.

Backing up a bit and squaring your legs, your mind drifts to the days you spent with your brother when he was still a martial arts novice…

“Remember, Stan,” he said, the two of you resting on the dojo floor, “This technique is never meant to be used--not for good, nor for evil.”

You nodded--your body was a weapon now--never to be used.

“You can probably use it to open a door though--it would look really cool. You’d probably make Art cry if he saw you do it--”

“Yea alright, pretty sure he didn’t say that.” Art grumbles, pulling you out of your memories. Refocusing, you take a deep breath and motion Art to back up a bit--you don’t want to accidentally kick him in half or something!

With a lackluster shrug, the security goon retreats a bit allowing you to bounce twice, step forward with your right foot, then leap into SECRET PARBLE TECHNIQUE #12: SPIN KICK OF DEATH!

The door never stood a chance--one minute it’s there, the next it’s toothpicks. Landing back on your feet like a feather, you survey the damage--where there once was a door there is now nothing more than…

Well.

“Christ, Stan.” Art remarks, looking over your shoulder into the office. Barely consisting of a small CRT TV, a cheap desk, some filing cabinets (your favorite), and a toppled old office chair, the workspace looks like a hurricane whipped through it--the contents of the desk spilled over and buried under the wooden doorbris!

“No traps, ey?” Ly chuckles as you enter the room. Sticking out of the rubble you notice a classic DRINKY INKY BIRD, its drink’s contents spilled all over the cheap floor, a PICTURE FRAME impaled with wood splinters, and a STACK OF COFFEE-STAINED PAPERS!

“Gee, Stan, looks like you found our mastermind.” Art sighs, glancing your way. Ignoring him, you pick the picture off of the ground and remove some splinters revealing the face of a bald older man surrounded by a similarly-aged woman and two teenagers, all smiling.

This disproves nothing.

“You’re going to Hell, Stan.” Art remarks, picking the chair back up off of the floor as Sybil hums with energy in your pocket.

“No sign of the echo…” She whispers, slightly disappointed. “Whatever I’m detecting it’s somewhere else…”

“Maybe there’s a clue in here?” Ly muses, looking your way.

What do?
>Yea, this was a bad idea. Let’s BAIL.
>Check the PAPERS. Gotta be something incriminating!
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
>The CABINETS! That’s our ticket!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697992
>Check the PAPERS. Gotta be something incriminating!
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
>>
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
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>>4698026
>>4698059
Desk and Papers--gotcha! Writing!
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You’ll start with the desk--the last one had a secret compartment--lord knows this one’s gotta have something neat too! Politely scooching past Art, you begin opening the drawers feverishly, your mind racing with all of the possibilities!

Your search nets you quite the haul--1 STAPLER, 1 PAIR OF SCISSORS, 1 CRUMPLED RECEIPT FOR BOZO’S BURGER, 1 ROLL OF STAMPS…

Hey, wait a minute--this is CRAP.

“Gee, find anything?” Art asks, somehow managing a wry smile through his mask. Patience is a virtue, Art! Rummaging through the office supplies and lint collection, you find a dusty envelope at the end of the top drawer! PAYDIRT!

“Open it!” Ly hisses, goading you on! Waving the envelope at Art with a smug grin on your face, you reach in and pull out its contents!

It… A card. An image of a desk fan sits on the front, the text Dad, I’m your biggest FAN in cartoony letters. You open it and reveal the punchline--”Don't stop blowing me away!” along with a chicken scratch note written in blue pen:

Pops, what a year, right? You beat the big C, so we know you can beat the big B--the bar! I found someone who can do the drinking for ya’ from now on, so keep on being the amazing dad that you are! Sending you lots of love,

Rudy and Vanessa!

PS. those DRINKY birds are supposed to last forever--just like our love!


You quietly stuff the card back into the envelope, ignoring the decapitated DRINKY INKY bird lying in a puddle of water on the floor. Guess uh… Guess that isn’t it.

“Here,” Art grumbles, handing you the pile of papers from the floor, “Sort through those.”

You’re getting to it, jeez! Adjusting your sunglasses, you start sifting through the papers. Expenses, bills, and a whole lotta red ink. With an unsatisfied sigh you let the papers drop to the desk, dejected.

“For what it’s worth, Stan,” Art begins, his voice measured and calm, “Not everywhere we go is gonna have a dark secret.”

You don’t even respond, you just nod. Damn it, what about that echo? Probably just some interfer-

“Err, Stan--what’s that?” Sybil asks, pointing at a handwritten note sticking out of the pile! Snatching it like a cat grabbing a canary, you carefully inspect the writing!

Jed, thanks again for all of your hard work all these years--never would have figured out how to maintain those cabinets on my own and I know how much this old place means to you! Regrettably, I think this is it for Tower--Arcades just aren’t the thing anymore. Do me a favor and clean out your closet a bit--a guy from the internet company’s coming tomorrow to install a new router and I swear that odd smell is back. Might have some potential buyers tour the place too.

Thanks again,

Shep


Wide-eyed and curiosity renewed, you look up from reading the note--could THIS be it?!

“Let me guess--we’re checking the supply closet now.” Art mutters, crossing his arms.

You BET we are!

>CONTD.
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>>4698190
Seconds later, you, Art, Ly and Sybil loiter outside of the janitor’s closet in a corner of the arcade you didn’t even notice.

“Never knew there was a handyman here.” Art remarks, looking the door up and down. “Guess he worked during off-hours.”

Determined, you grip the door handle in your fingers and yank the closet open revealing--

A uh… A closet.

Art sighs and walks away as you, Syb and Ly take a closer look--unlike the one at Good Boy, this one isn’t even an office--Hell, it’s barely a room! All that remains of whoever worked here is a pair of BLEACHED COVERALLS, an EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, and a GOLF CLUB BAG.

“Nice ta’ know we’ve got somethin’ ta’ look forward to.” Ly remarks, taking a closer look at the GOLF CLUB BAG. “Quite da’ legacy us janitors leave behind!”

You huff--it’s not all bad! You could probably use this SPRAY BOTTLE…

“Hmmm. Still getting a pulse, but not sure where it’s coming from…” Sybil whispers, looking around the closet.

Well whatever it is, it isn’t HERE. Reaching for the EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, you grasp the nozzle in your hands, but suddenly lose your footing!

You, Ly, and Syb yelp as you tumble forwards, crashing into the GOLF BAG in a heap! Coughing up lint from your mouth, you sit there in the corner for a minute to check for any more dust.

“YOU GOOD?!” Art shouts, skidding around the corner! You nod--yea, but your allergies aren’t gonna be happy about this…

The security guard doesn’t respond. Following his gaze behind you, you notice a section of the wall pushed slightly ajar by your body and the GOLF CLUB BAG.

“No fucking way.” Art mutters, not taking his eyes off of it:

A SECRET DOOR!

Chuckling to yourself, you make to get up, but stop when Art motions for you to stand still!

“Stan…” He begins, his voice quiet, “Behind you…”

Following his finger, you look to your right and see what appears to be a tripwire just inches from the secret door--the wrong move might snap it!

“Carefully now!” Sybil adds, debating whether to stay in your pocket or not. Ly dips through the door for a second, then comes back with wide eye-sockets!

“It’s attached to a grenade, Stan--a CLUMP of em!”

Just GREAT--why couldn’t you just find some incriminating photos or something?

>Roll 1d100 to NOT get blown to bits! I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>4698197
Can tripwires be disabled by cutting them? If Art says yes let's use those SCISSORS from the office. Otherwise, limbo time!
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>4698197
>>
Gonna call it here for tonight--got a big day tomorrow. I might be able to swing an update around 9-10AM PST, otherwise catch me at the usual 3-4PM PST. Thanks for playing!
>>
>>4698303
Thanks as always for running!
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4698197
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>4698197
>Roll 1d100 to NOT get blown to bits! I’ll take the best of 3!
Lets get one more roll out there.
>>
Just dropping in to ask when Stanley is going to get boned... in a sexual manner.
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>>4698914
Bonk at you.
>>
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>>4698914
>>
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Hey all, I've seen your rolls and I'll be updating a little later today--meetings went mad longer than expected and I've gotta catch up with some work. Should have something for you around 5PM PST--apologies again for misleading you!

>>4698908
A fantastic roll, but... But it was too late....

>>4698914
Pic related, man--you've gotta work on those social links first!
>>
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Thankfully your sleep deprivation helps you in not fidgeting--hey, that means that Tabard indirectly saved your life! HAH!

“I uh… Hey Syb, come over to me!” Art mutters, clearly nowhere near as composed as you are right now! As Sybil debates leaving you to die, an idea forms in your head!

Art--the SCISSORS!

“Wh-huh? What about them?” He replies, reaching out for Sybil.

You can cut the wire with them, DUH! Quit trying to leave us for dead and go get ‘em!

“I’m no--you ca--OKAY!” Art answers, running off with a curt nod leaving you, Ly, and Syb in the DASTARDLY TRAP! As you hang tight, Sybil sighs in your pocket. What? He wanted to be a hero, he’s being a hero!

“I’m aware, it’s just…”

Just what?

“...Never mind.” The doll responds, clearly absorbed in thought. Oh boy, you know what ‘never mind’ means! GIRL CODE!

Before Syb can respond, Art comes dashing around the corner again with a pair of scissors. Wait a minute, did he RUN with those?

“Yea…” Art nods, holding them out to you. “Not really safe, but given the circumstances…”

Not bad, Art! Taking the scissors from his outstretched hand, you cautiously reach behind you towards the wire beyond the secret door.

“A little to da’ left!” Ly directs, motioning you with his spectral hands! “Dat’s it! Now CUT!”

Biting your lip, you clamp the scissor blades shut around the wire causing it to go slack!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

“... Please don’t joke about that.” Sybil murmurs in response to your joke. Rolling your eyes, you look behind you--though the tripwire is gone, the grenades still remain!

“Looks like it was set up ta’ pull da pins.” Ly reports, head poking through the door. “Should be fine now as long as ya don’t smoke around ‘em or somethin’.”

Rising to your feet, you hold a fist out to Art--nice work on the scissors! The guard bashfully rubs the back of his helmet before bumping your fist with his.

“... Any time!”

You give him a sly grin--playing it cool, huh? As he brushes you off, you turn your attention to the true star of the show: THE 3 GRENADES!

“If you’re even briefly considering the idea of taking those with you,” Sybil begins, giving you a stern look, “I’ll be riding with Art from now on--who knows what will happen if they jostle against the wrong item in your pockets…”

“They could be useful though!” Art counters. “Might delay that Talbot guy if you use ‘em right!”

You’re definitely taking the EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, but what about THE GRENADES?

>You bet your ASS I’m takin’ em! [Take ALL 3 Grenades]
>You’ll just take ONE. As a SAMPLE! [Take 1 Grenade]
>Syb’s right--these might be DANGEROUS. [Take 0 Grenades :c]
>We’re takin’ em’, but Art can carry a few! [How many to Stan and Art?]
>WRITE-IN
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>>4699340
>We’re takin’ em’, but Art can carry a few! [How many to Stan and Art?]

2 for us. Art can have a grenade, as a treat
>>
>>4699344
Pineapple for everyone! Writing!
>>
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You’re with Art on this one--one grenade is good, two is dangerous, but THREE?

Three’s a Get-Out-Of-Danger-Free card. Plus you’ve been carrying around a shotgun and two handguns in your pockets for hours now--a grenade or two isn’t gonna change anything!

“... Just be careful...” Sybil huffs, not noticing Art silently pumping his fist behind her. No sweat, you’re always careful! The doll floats over to his shoulder as you crouch through the secret door, reaching out for the grenades dangling like unpicked fruit. Cutting the remaining wire from the pins with your BONE CLAWS, you snag them all and turn around to smile at your companions--say, did they know you can juggle?

NO!” Sybil exclaims with wide buttons, startling Art! “No… That’s fine, Stan.” Shrugging, you begin shoving the grenades into your pockets, still marveling at all the space you have in your jeans and hoodie!

Stuffing them next to what you assume is between your firearms and lighter, your eyes catch a glimpse of Art’s mask--he almost looks… Disappointed?

You nod at him with a warm smile on your face--think fast, kid! Lobbing a grenade his way, Art snaps out of his funk just in time to snag it out of the air, his eye lenses positively GLEAMING from the new toy!

“Stan… I uh…” The guard mutters, trying to avoid Syb’s hard stare, “Thanks!”

Don’t mention it! Now everyone has an insurance policy! Everyone in your group more or less satisfied, you turn your attention again to the secret door at the back of the closet--past the devious trap sit several crude stairs spiraling downwards into a rough-hewn hole in the arcade’s foundation. Secret-LICIOUS!

“So,” Art begins, still excited from the grenade, “Who’s going first?”

>ME, of course!
>LY, of course!
>ART! Protect the ladies for once!
>SYB! Maybe she can find that echo!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4699471
>LY, of course!
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>>4699471
>LY
hes like unkillable, what could go wrong?
>>
>>4699471
>LY, of course!
>>
>>4699478
>>4699530
>>4699541
Follow the Lyder! Writing!
>>
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You snap your fingers a few times--Ly, you’re up.

“Hope there ain’t no ASTRAL TRIP WIRES…” Your skeleton whines, floating ahead of your group. Yea, yea…

You and Art pass the time examining the grenades you picked up--there’s a lot of serial number stuff on them, but you’re not exactly sure what kind of ‘boom’ you’re gonna get, you know?

“Guess we’ll have to find out later…” The guard muses.

As you contemplate trying one out in the parking lot just for kicks, your skeleton rockets through the floor, astral sweat dampening his cranium!

“T-t-th-th-th!”

Rolling your eyes, you motion for him to hurry up, you don’t have time for 20 Questions!

“Th-there’s some STUFF down there, Stan!” You skeleton mutters between chattering teeth! “It’s safe, but… Just LOOK!”

Exchanging glances with Art and Syb, you clamber into the secret passage and follow a dimly-lit set of stairs downwards, the air growing damper and colder as you go. Descending deeper into the earth, you continue down the stairs until you’re met with a mural written in red, flaky paint--

GAME OVER

You frown--is this what Ly wanted you to see? What a WUSS!

“Keep goin’!” Ly hisses, pointing at a rusty metal door at the base of the stairs. “There’s more!”

Shrugging, you lead the way to the door and open it with a loud CREAK! Inside is… Well, part of you wants to say some sort of kitchen. This one isn’t gonna pass any health inspections, though--the prep areas are caked in acrid black matter emanating from an old sink clogged with tepid rust-colored water.

Cobwebs and dust pepper every available surface, and the only available source of light flickers above from a solitary lightbulb dangling from the ceiling!

“This must be the BUTCHER SHOP!” Sybil whispers, her button eyes widening in recognition! Hey, yea, Stripes mentioned something about that, didn’t he?

“Arcade must’ve been built over it.” Art muses, keeping his rifle trained on the corners. “The hell is that?”

Following Art’s gun, you spy a yellowed envelope stuck to the wall by a butcher knife with letters written in neat, yet faded handwriting addressed to “The Winner”.

“Stan, go open it!” Sybil commands, eyes wide with excitement!

“Hold on…” Art mutters, “We should search the place a bit more first.”

What do?
>OPEN the LETTER!
>SEARCH the joint!
>This is too freaky, let’s LEAVE.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4699681
>OPEN the LETTER!
Hope we arent making a... BONER!
>>
>>4699681
>SEARCH the joint!
There might be more traps in the envelope!
>>
>>4699681
>OPEN the LETTER!
Curiosity overwhelms me
>>
>>4699755
>>4700244
>The LETTERRRRRRRRR

>>4699791
Case the joint

Guess who's got time for an updaaaaate? Writing!
>>
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https://youtu.be/LGPDKpjJq1k?list=PL1caomPZ-YkrT0nIHF2SxTpJ2STZS0uJ0

Too late--Syb’s excitement is CONTAGIOUS! Stepping over a particularly dark puddle of viscous fluid, you make your way to where the LETTER is. The BUTCHER KNIFE holding it in place is weathered--water spots and bits of rust pepper the metal and a thin layer of dust tumbles to the ground as you pull it out of the wall.

“Found a MEAT LOCKER!” Art reports from the other room as you gently pick up the letter from the floor! That’s great, he can try to get it open while you read! Hearing an affirmative grunt, you rip open the sealed envelope revealing a stack of folded papers. TONS.

“These are…” Sybil begins, floating closer, “Newspaper clippings?”

Yep, dating all the way back to the 60’s if the newspaper dates are real!

You quickly thumb through the pile and read the headlines: Brutal Body Art Found By The Coast, ‘Corpse Art’ Killer Strikes Again, Skeleton Sculpture Shocks Shoppers... Each headline is accompanied by a newspaper-friendly picture of what you can only assume to be the killer’s handiwork--macabre sculptures made from corpses--their faces distorted in fatal agony. Sybil’s button eyes widen as she comes to a realization!

The Corpse-Art Killer!” She exclaims! Yea, that’s what the newspaper said, alright. The doll shakes its head vigorously.

“Stan, The Corpse-Art Killer was never caught--This place… This place must be his LAIR!” The doll turns its head your way, a serious look on its face. “Do you know what this means?”

That we’re gonna have to tangle with a serial killer now? Sybil shakes her head. “It means we can solve the case! This podcast episode will KILL!”

“AFTER we let da’ cops know, right?” Ly interjects, swooping in between you two.
“Sure, of course!” Sybil replies, “Afterwards...”

Wait, wha?

“After the SKELETON APOCALYPSE of course!” The doll explains in a rushed tone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do--see if there’s any more dirt!” Sybil looks over in Art’s direction where he’s doing his damndest to open the meat locker.

“Keep it up, Arthur!”

The goon shoots a thumbs up your way, then returns to his task while Sybil gestures impatiently for you to keep going.

“Well don’t just stand there… What else is in there?!”

Okay, okay, SHEESH. Thumbing through the articles one more time, your hands rest on a folded note near the back. Unfolding it you come face to face with a letter written in the same handwriting that was on the envelope!

“READITREADITREADIT” Sybil chants feverishly, her eyes almost too big for her head! Alright, hold your HORSES!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4700602
To Detective Jay Perez: Congratulations--the game is now over.

You blink. Who the hell is that?

“Probably the chief investigator--KEEP GOING!” Snarls Syb, her doll hovering an inch away from your face!

Did you enjoy following my trail of breadcrumbs? The package in the Police Station Evidence Locker? The sunken chest off the coast? The riddle in the forest cabin? That DEVIOUS puzzle in the tunnel by the old lighthouse? You must have, otherwise you would have never known that The Corpse Art Killer, as you call me, was right under your noses for over thirty years.

Huh. Guess you skipped a few.

I suppose this can be considered my confession... And a will. I, Jed F. Slauson, was the visionary behind those riveting sculptures. What started as a mere compulsion one night at my butcher shop became my calling--their meat had betrayed them in life, so it was my choice--my WILL--to honor them in death...

And honor them I did. I remember them all like childhood memories--flashbulb scenes burned into my retinae. I can not, nor will I ever forget my works of art.

You should know that my first victim was not premeditated. It was a hot Summer night--one where your shirt clings to your back--and he came in when I was cleaning up.

Like an itch in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but notice how grotesque the man was--bulbous nose, multiple chins, sweat dripping from his wiry hair. Anyone else that night would do, but it was him.


You skip through a few more paragraphs about his victims, ignoring the look Syb’s giving you.

You, Detective, were my finest victim. I was there when you responded to your first call--where you first took my bait. I was there at your partner’s funeral--she had the most beautiful collarbone... I was there for your son’s eleventh birthday, caked in a clown’s greasepaint. And now? Now here we are: two old, tired men ruminating on our life’s work. Was it worth it?

You don’t even want to read this anymore--it’s getting awkward! Your complaint is answered by an arm stump punching the side of your head, promptly urging you to continue.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4700605
This letter is growing long and our time is running short--when my business associate told me someone was coming to ‘install a new router’, I knew our dance was coming to an end and you were reaching the end of the trail.

Regrettably there will be no final confrontation, no arrest, no standoff at gunpoint… My body failed me long before you found this letter and I feel myself growing weak.

Perhaps you are feeling something similar? Has age slowed your mind down, or is it fatigue? Maybe it’s both… That and my final gift to you: a permanent fixture in my museum. By the time you read this message, gas will have finished quietly flooding the room--it’s too late to retreat now.


You jump at the last line--GAS?! Frantically scanning the room for the source, your eyes fall upon a maze of pipes on the ceiling--their nozzles silently pumping the room with Jed’s final gift!

“Arthur, Stan, HURRY!” Sybil shouts, making a beeline for the exit! Confused, Art joins your group as you scamper for the exit--no time to lose, you’re feeling weak already!

>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of three rolls. Live or die, make your choice.
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>4700606
>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of three rolls. Live or die, make your choice.
Hmmmm, we still have some candy right? Can we use it to gunk up the vents?
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>4700606
>>
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>>4700610
You used most of the CANDY in your fight with ROCKY, but don't worry, you should have a bag or two le--

Oh DAMN IT! She ate the rest between updates! You animal!
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>4700606
I still have to catch up on the reading now that I'm free but I see we need a good roll so here goes nothing!
>>
Sorry folks, started feeling kinda funky in the last hour--if I feel up to it I'll write some updates later tonight, otherwise I'll write an update by tomorrow 3-4PM PST.
>>
>>4700781
Not a problem DemBones, take care of yourself and thanks for running!
>>
Took a nap, made dinner, had a beer--think we're ready to roll here.

>>4700610
>>4700621
>>4700714
>Highest Roll: 81

Writing!
>>
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You hold your breath as you tackle the metal door and send it screeching off of its hinges! Not expecting it to give way, you tumble to the floor in a heap, absorbing most of the landing with your face!

“Good hustle, cupcake!” Ly says, raising a spectral thumb your way!

Art comes huffing behind you as you take a few gulps of fresh air--that was TOO close!

“...Was it?” Sybil asks, turning towards the mess of pipes in the butcher shop. Well you almost died reading an info-dump so yea, it KINDA WAS.

“Good thing…” Art pants, bent over his knees, “...I have a gas mask…”

Hey, yea! What was HE so worried about? The operator shrugs.

“I uh… I just panicked and went with what everyone else was doing...”

Typical Art. Shaking your head, you look down and find Sybil gone from your pocket! Scanning the room, you find her peering into one of the pipes! Don’t do it--you’ll get poisoned!

“Not to worry--I don’t think anyone’s in danger of getting poisoned today…” The doll turns around and raps the side of the pipe with her arm stub a few times creating a hollow ‘THUD’.

“Empty. Seems like it’s been that way for ages.” You reenter the room and frown--so what, you almost botched a roll for nothing?

“Indeed. We’d be in hot water if we showed up a few years earlier, though.” The doll replies, taking in the sights. “Odd… No sign of the echo any more.”

In that case… Now what? Ly and Syb respond with a shrug as you gather the LETTER’S contents and stuff them into your pockets.

“Assuming there are no more surprises, we can try searching this workshop for more things of interest.” Sybil suggests.

“You can also help me with this meat locker!” Art quips, pointing at the large steel door in the corner! “Thing won’t budge and I’m not wasting my grenade on that!”

What do?
>Let’s SEARCH this place--maybe there’s some more cool stuff!
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4700977
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
Lets see whats up
>>
>>4700977
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
It can be any harder than our locker back in high school!
>>
>>4700988
>>4701022
Looks like we're crackin' that shit! Writing!
>>
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Art’s right--no sense in wasting a grenade on something lame like a door. You’ll just pop it open with your BONE CLAWS!

“Awesome. I’ll uh… I’ll get it ready for ya.” Art replies helpfully. As you approach the meat locker door, Sybil frowns from your pocket.

“Be on your guard--we might be in for one last surprise!”

The three of you (four if you count Ly) nod, and as Art pulls on the door’s handle you slice through the deadbolt causing the door to swing open with a ear-piercing shriek! You and your pals brace for battle, but the only thing that attacks you is the putrid stench of a long-rotten corpse…

Nose burning from the stench, you quickly cup your hand over it and wince--GRODY!

“L-Look!” Sybil shouts, pointing towards the meat locker! Enduring the stench, you turn your attention to the locker. What you see is… Well, not what you expected.

“You’re JOKING...” Art whimpers, admiring the locker with you. Amidst a forest of dirty meat hooks and old, unidentifiable slabs of meat sits an ancient armchair, its cushions bent inwards from something, or someONE sitting in it for a very VERY long time. A pile of books and several pill bottles lay strewn about the chair caked in some sort of liquid coming from the chair’s upholstery.

“Criminy…” Ly remarks.

That’s not the worst part, though--the gold medal, you think, goes to the man-sized hole torn through the roof of the locker, the light of day shining through it. That and a mural similar to the one outside, albeit fresher and written in an ink you know very well…

“Blood.” Sybil whispers, taking it all in. Yea, that was your second guess!

Dark, soupy viscera stains the wall of the locker with words written in the same neat handwriting you saw on the letter:

I AM BORN AGAIN.

Shit.

“You can say THAT again…” Art sighs, pointing his gun at the hole.

“Could that have been the echo I detected?” Sybil asks, a disturbed look on her face. “Did someone raise him, or was it an accident?”

“Whatever da’ answer is, I ain’t keen on stickin’ around much longer!” Ly answers. “Hope dat’ van guy doesn’t pick up any hitchhikers…”

Your pals are right--you’ve definitely worn out your welcome here, not to mention the host has apparently left.

What’s the plan?
>Let’s find that VAN guy--he might be in DANGER!
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
>WRITE-IN
Last update of the night. Will probably update tomorrow around 9-10AM or 3-4PST. Apologies again for the erratic updates!
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
Is this almost definitely a bad idea?
Yes.
Am I still going to vote for it?
Yes.
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s find that VAN guy--he might be in DANGER!
>>
>>4701072
+1
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
>>
>>4701072
>>4701175
>>4701399
>Scavenging!

>>4701161
>To the van!

Happy Friday, everyone! Writing!
>>
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You shake your head disappointedly at Ly’s eagerness to leave--has he learned nothing since this all began?

“Oh I’ve learned boatloads.” Ly replies, “The biggest lesson being dat’ everything wants us dead, so less talkin’, more scrammin’!”

Not before you search the joint! If anything, this is the safest time to loot--the owner of the place is gone, that’s like ‘Thievery 101’!

“Stan’s right--our driver should know not to pick up strange skeletons. We should hurry, though!.” Sybil interjects from your pocket. With that you and your companions spread out and start grabbing things like it was Black Friday!

Most of the good stuff seems to be gone--most of it lost to time, mold, or a mixture of both. That doesn’t mean you don’t find anything good, though!

A few minutes later, you all reconvene in the center of the butcher shop and spread your findings out on the floor like a picnic. Hey, just like your dream!

“You dreamt too?” Art asks, looking your way, “At the school I dreamt I was being chased by a cartoon cat with a hammer. Pretty freaky.”

“I’d prefer it if we shared dreams later, if that’s alright.” Syb remarks. “Preferably in the van.”

Probably for the best--they wouldn’t get the full intricacies of your dream if you had to rush it! That settled, you take stock of what you and your gang of misfits managed to rustle up!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702172
First up is a THICK BOOK with a DUSTY COVER. Blowing the debris away, you take a closer look at the title: A Butcher’s Guide to Carving. Huh.

“You should be able to make use of this, Stan!” Sybil reports, a confident grin on her face! “I read the first five chapters and they seem to detail ‘weak points’ in bones that butchers use to carve animals! Lots of diagrams, too!”

You nod, that does sound useful as long as you have time for reading… Wait, FIVE chapters?! We searched for like…. Two whole minutes!

“Yes… And?” The doll asks, genuine confusion on her face. Shaking your head, you move on to the next trinket.

Second is a STRANGE DEVICE with SEVERAL TINY NOTCHES in it bordered by SCRAPE-COVERED METAL. Okay, who picked THIS CRAP up?
“Uh… Guilty.” Art mumbles, raising his hand. Care to explain? “It’s a knife sharpener, Stan. You can use it to sharpen knives.”

You respond with an eye roll. Knives are always sharp--redundant much? Art massages his temples as Ly and Sybil sigh. What? What are you wrong about THIS TIME?!

“Stan, knives grow dull.” Art explains. “This thing keeps ‘em sharp. I thought you could use it for your claws, I could use it for THIS GUY.”

The operator produces a GRISLY SERRATED BLADE with a HIP SHEATHE. “Figured I could use a knife.”

Okay, gotta admit that thing sounds pretty useful. Giving Art a nod of approval, you move on to item #3: a pile of shrink-wrapped meat!

“Let me guess, you found this, didn’t you?” Art asks, unable to look away. What? They’re field rations!

“I’m afraid even I can’t verify what type of meat that is…” Sybil reports, staring at your findings with disgust.

Fine, more for YOU then!

Your impromptu session of Show and Tell over, you quickly gather up your new items!

You have obtained a BOOK ON CARVING. Reading this might give you PERMANENT BONE-USES!
You have obtained a KNIFE SHARPENER. You can sharpen your claws ONCE A DAY--they’ll become more damaging for a whole encounter!
You have obtained MEAT RATIONS. It’s FOOD. What, did these jerks never eat a HOT DOG before? They’re probably made of the same thing!


>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702174
Packing your new belongings into your pockets, your team goes quiet as you hear the sound of wheels approaching up above! Large ones!

“Guess that’s our guy…Hopefully.” Art remarks. Resisting the urge to leap to the surface through the hole in the meat locker, you make your way up and out of the arcade where DA VAN awaits! Leaning on it is a stout greaser skeleton idly running a switch comb through his hair! As you approach he shoots you a good-natured grin and throws his arms open welcoming you!

HAULIE PAULIE THEME https://youtu.be/DRjhdqd3xew
“Stanley Parble in da’ flesh! Name’s Haulie Paulie and you and I is gonna be good friends, I can already tell!”

Hey, you like this guy already! You give the skeleton a firm handshake as Art runs his hand over the van, inspecting it.

“Good as new, I swear!” Paulie reports, crossing his heart. “I treated her like she were my own--no bumps, no scratches, nothin’ but horsepower!”

The skeleton slaps the keys to the van in your hand, then eagerly scans the area.

“So where’s the wheels you wanted picked up? Same deal--no bumps, no scratches, no prob..lem.” The skeleton’s pep deflates a bit as you clasp the UNICORN KEYRING in his hand. It’s uh… It’s over there.

Paulie follows your outstretched finger to THE STEED. A noise akin to a small rodent being deflated escapes from his mouth, but the greaser quickly recovers.

“Hey alright--they don’t call me Haulie Paulie for nothin’! I’d even haul my mother’s ashes if I was asked to! And I was!”

The skeleton nudges you in the ribs a few times, letting out some hollow laughter. Wow,Haulie Paulie has some issues, huh?

“Da’ only issue I’ve got is too much free time!” The greaser replies! “You tune ta’ CHANNEL 10 on da’ radio and I’ll be there! Say, you got any PONGOS?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“You mean those collectible disk things from the 90’s?” Art asks, looking up from the van. Paulie nods!

“Exactly! Just found out about ‘em myself--all da’ guys did! Tell ya what--you track any down, save ‘em for ole’ Paulie--I’ll give ya stuff in return, dig? Weapons, duds, you name it!”

PONGOS. You’ve got it! With an energetic salute, Haulie Paulie makes for the scooter.

“Well if nothin’ else, I’ll be seein’ ya, kid! Good luck wit’ da’ Rent-A-Cops!”

Hey wait, anything else you’d like to do before he leaves?!
>Let him leave--you’ve gotta get to work!
>Wait! Tell me more about PONGOS.
>Hold it! What kind of stuff are you peddling?
>Halt! How are the other greasers doing?
>Freeze! What are the roads like?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4702178
>Wait! Tell me more about PONGOS.
>Hold it! What kind of stuff are you peddling?
>Halt! How are the other greasers doing?

Also let's not forget when we do leave to bring up the amulet that we found in the principal's desk to Sybil
>>
>>4702329
Writing!
>>
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You raise your hand in the air and let out a commanding HALT before Haulie Paulie can haul ass--you’ve got some questions you need answering!

“Here we go…” Art mutters under his breath.

“Hey yea, no problem!” Paulie chuckles, turning around to face you with a practiced grin! “I thought you guys were in a hurry, but I’ve got all da’ time in da’ world--anything’s better than gettin’ da Drive-In set up!”

You feel that--moving’s theWORST. You pals nod in assent. Hey, speaking of--how’s all that going, anyways? How are the greasers dealing with uh… The management shift?

Paulie shrugs, dragging the comb through his hair again. “If it was anyone else runnin’ da show, we’d be havin’ a civil war on our hands, dig? Cliff, though, dat’s a sight for sore eyes! He just started callin’ shots again an’ everyone kinda fell in! S’like he hasn’t missed a beat, dig?”

Yea, you dig. Cliff’s got that quality about him. Paulie nods in agreement.

“You get it, doll. Anyways, da’ school’s a pile of burnin’ rubble now which is an improvement in my book, but not exactly clubhouse material, dig? So now we’re headed back to da’ Drive-In for da’ long haul.”

“Understandable. It’s defensible, isolated. Not a bad base of operations.” Sybil nods from your pocket.

“Dat’s Cliff’s thinkin’. There’s a few more stragglers ta’ convince, yea, but most of da’ guys are headed up that way. We figure if Rocky’s Boss visits we can use da’ destroyed school as an excuse.”

“You really think that’s gonna work?” Art asks.

“It’d better, because otherwise we’re all as good as bone dust!” Paulie shivers. “Anywho, Stripes told me ta’ remind you dat’ he’d give ya’ a call if they needed anything. Otherwise, well… You’re always welcome to da’ housewarmin’ party!”

Recognition flashes in Paulie’s eyes. “Say… Now dat’ I think about it, you’re probably gonna be wanderin’ around town a lot, yea?”

You nod--you were Bone to Roam!

“Tell ya what… We’ve got a shoppin’ list goin’ for da’ housewarmin’ party--you take a look at it and if you find a lot of da’ stuff on there, you call me, dig?”

Paulie produces a list from his jacket pocket with a short list of party supplies:
>Booze
>Cigarettes
>Hair Pomade
>Vinyl Records

Studying it for a moment, you look back at Paulie--what’s in it for you?

“Well for starters, you’ll be makin’ da’ party happen.” The skeleton elaborates, straightening a low-hanging hair from his pompadour. “Second, I can probably track down somethin’ ta’ pay you with. Somethin’ good!

You grin--you do like good things!

“Course ya’ do. We need a lot of da’ stuff, dig? Not just a bottle a’ malt liquor!”

Yea, yea… Stuffing the SHOPPING LIST into your pocket you feel another question forming in your brain…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702551
These aforementioned ‘good things’--what exactly are they? Paulie grins like an angler with a bite on the line!

“Was hopin’ you’d ask, doll! Bein’ Haulie Paulie has some benefits--I’m kinda da’ go-getter for everyone in da’ gang, dig? Dat’ means I get my hands on some nifty tools.”

Such as? You ask, tapping your foot on the pavement.

“Off da’ top of my head: WHEELS. TUNEUPS. HEATERS--got a whole bunch of ‘em from some of da’ general’s guys pawnin’ ‘em off…”

“Weapons could be nice!” Art interjects, clearly interested.

“I knew you’d like dat’, big guy!” Paulie replies, winking towards the Rent-A-Cop. “Got some DUDS too--you seem comfortable in your digs already, but if you’re ever lookin’ ta’ LEATHER up or maybe get some ARMOR, well…”

Well what? This all sounds too good to be true!

“I got good news--it IS true!” Paulie boasts! “I got clothes, I got guns, I even got some MAGIC TRINKETS from those freaks that hang around da’ sea witch! Once you scrounge up some PONGOS you gimme a call and I’ll whip up a quick catalogue for ya--stocks tend ta’ change a lot. Turns out runnin’ a business durin’ wartime is pretty hectic!” The skeleton chuckles!

“What if we want something specific?” Sybil asks, eyes lit up. “Can you get it?”

“Sure!” Paulie grins, puffing out his bony chest! “Haulie Paulie can get ya’ anything! Special orders take time, though--you put one in and I’ll pull overtime trackin’ it down for ya.”

The skeleton’s eye sockets turn serious for a moment.

“You’d better have da PONGOS though. Dose’ first, then I work, dig?”

You dig.

“Great!” The skeleton cheers, his jolliness returning. “Catch me later and I’ll get ya’ a menu!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702556
That settled, one last question nips at the back of your head… PONGOS. Why?

The skeleton looks at you like you just asked what color the sky is. “You… You don’t know about PONGOS?”

“Come on, Stan, really?” Art chides, shaking his head at you. “How old are you anyways?”

You’re TWENTY, damn it! But don’t let that fool you! Art recoils slightly, most likely out of surprise.

“Twenty? Could have sworn you were like… Eighteen… At least that would explain some things.”

Yea yea, you’re very mature for your age. Keep talking--what are these PONGO things?

“Imagine, if you will: tradin’ cards,” Paulie begins. “Tradin’ cards wit’ every cartoon, sports team, band, an’ everything else dat’ matters in life printed on ‘em an’ all mixed together!”

Sounds like it would get confusing. You were never really into trading cards, but your brother liked the baseball ones!

“Now imagine they’re all CIRCULAR!” Paulie continues, a gleam in his eye sockets! “An’ even better, you play a game with em’ where you try ta’ knock down a tower! Winner gets whatever one they want!”

“It certainly scratches that gambling itch.” Sybil remarks, listening in on the explanation.

“Exactly! It’s like a card game where ya’ don’t gotta learn all da’ rules! You just collect em’!”

Okay, you’re starting to see the appeal here, but is Paulie saying that these PINGAS are still around? Sounds like something you’d only find in one of those Mom & Pop Thrift Stores.

“I thought so too, but get dis: da’ minute one of da’ guys brought them around and started talkin’ about ‘em, they started showin’ up EVERYWHERE!” Paulie shouts! “I bet you’ll start seein’ em around right after dis’ conversation!”

“So how much are each of them worth, anyways?” Art asks.

“One PONGO is one PONGO until I appraise it.” Paulie answers. “If you’ve got one I really like, I’ll count it as more! If you’re only dealin’ wit’ me then I got no reason ta’ swindle ya’!”

Damn straight. Looks like you’ll have to keep an eye out from now on, then!

“I’m excited for ya!” Paulie chuckles, “If I could go back to da’ time before I knew about PONGOS and experience it again, I’d do it! No questions asked!”

Paulie adopts a surprised face as he seems to remember something. Rummaging around in his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet sack stamped with the most 90’s Letter P you’ve ever seen!

“Take it--you’ll need somethin’ ta carry ‘em around in!”

Stuffing the PONGOS POUCH in your pocket, you nod--guess that’s all for now!

Right?

>THAT’S IT. Thanks, Paulie!
>One more QUESTION (WRITE-IN)!
>>
Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:
>1 SKULL HOODIE
>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS
>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS
>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES
>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.
>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)
>2 rubber boots
>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.
>1 Dead (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE
>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)
>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)
>1 KEYRING with WORK, APARTMENT, and SCOOTER KEYS
>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.
>1 SUPER HELPFUL SKELETON (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)
>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)
>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)
>1 AUTOMATED BONE SHAPER (ABS) with low battery.
>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.
>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade
>1 SYBIL DOLL (She communicates through it)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 8 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>1 ADDRESS (Given by ART)
>1 PACK OF TISSUES
>1 PACK OF CLOVE CIGARETTES
>1 MENU FOR ANDRE’S STEAKHOUSE
>1 SCOOTER KEY (GIVEN TO PAULIE)
>1 KITTY BIKE HELMET
>1 CLEARWATER MAP
>1 EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE
>3 GRENADES (1 with ART)
>NEWSPAPERS AND NOTE FROM CORPSE-ART KILLER
>BOOK ON CARVING (UNREAD)
>KNIFE SHARPENER
>3 PACKS OF MYSTERY MEAT
>1 GREASER SHOPPING LIST
>1 PONGOS POUCH (0 PONGOS)
>1 VAN KEY
>>
>>4702561
>THAT’S IT. Thanks, Paulie!
Let's hand him the clove cigarettes as a down payment. From the sound of it he'll need way more pomade and other stuff than we have on us, but clove cigarettes are banned in the US so they're probably like, super special goods.
>>
>>4702568
Writing!
>>
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Yep, that’s it! Giving Paulie a friendly wave as he departs towards your SCOOTER, a thought comes to mind! Rummaging around in your pockets, you pull out the pack of CLOVE CIGARETTES you swiped from the scooter’s storage box. With a casual ‘Hey Paul’, you toss the pack his way.

Unfortunately your aim is totally off and you spike it onto the pavement next to him. Whoops!

“It’s good! It’s good!” Paulie reports, stooping down to grab the smokes. “Oooh, Pjarum Super! Heard about these!” Stuffing the pack into his jacket pocket, the skeleton gives you a good-natured salute and mounts your SCOOTER.

“Won’t forget dis’, doll! Paulie’s got yer’ back!”

Cranking the ignition, you watch as the skeleton departs on your trusty pink eyesore and slowly disappears into the reddish horizon like a very confused cowboy.

“So…” Ly begins, “We ready ta’ go?”

Almost… You still need to decide who’s driving. No more Trio, remember? Art’s eye lenses light up with excitement!

“Ooh, memememe!”

“Good idea--maybe the trip over will be smoother with a Good Boy operative in front?” Sybil muses, looking your way.

“Or,” Ly counters, “It could make us a bigger target… Besides, you’re more skilled when it comes to uh… Rough traffic, right Stan?”

What do you think?
>Let Art Drive
>YOU want to drive!
>LY can drive--you’ll just sit in the seat and look pretty.
>SYB can drive! She uh… Telekinesis? Maybe?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4702669
>Let Art Drive
We get the aux cord/choice of music though
>>
>>4702679
Writing!
>>
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Throwing your arms up in mock exasperation, you sigh--guess Art’s the wheelman this time! The eye lenses of his mask lit up light Christmas Trees, Art gives you an enthusiastic nod!

“Leave it to me! Next stop: Good Boy Security Station: Brookside Street!

You pile into the passenger seat as Art takes the wheel next to you. As he adjusts the seat and mirrors, you fiddle with the radio dial--maybe those Good Boy goons are still using it to communicate!

A minute of static and scratching through the speakers later, you pause as you hear the notes of a familiar song…

https://youtu.be/4b1wt3-zpzQ

Too bad you can’t remember the name.

“I’ll allow it.” Art states, putting his seatbelt on. “But the minute I hear something weird…”

No friggin’ way--you’re the Music Maestro on THIS roadtrip, thanks!

“Shall we go, then?” Sybil asks, worming out of your pocket and floating in the center of the cabin. “I have my doubts that this will be a simple commute…”

“Relax, teach!” Ly sighs, popping out in his Astral Form! “We’ve gotten dis’ far, haven’t we? Just a few more boneheads ta’ go!”

Hey, that’s the spirit! Onward, you shout, pointing forward with your whole arm!

“Hang on to something!” Art chuckles, cranking the ignition!

DA VAN rockets forward with its suped-up engine, taking out a power line as Art struggles to regain control! A few moments later (and an apology from Art) your team is once again on the road towards certain peril!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702774
Settling back into the leather seat, you hear something jingle inside of your pockets. Stuffing your hand past your CHINCHILL SHOTGUN, the GRENADES, and your BOOK ON CARVING, your fingers wrap around the perpetrator--that STRANGE AMULET you stole from the principal’s office!

Fishing it from your inventory, you hold it up in the rust-colored sunrise and examine it closer. With its gold finish and shape it almost looks like a badge, but the chain around it and the designs carved into the front tell you that it’s probably something else entirely…

“Where did you find that?” Sybil asks, drawing closer to the AMULET. You shrug--it was hidden in a secret compartment in a drawer.

“In da’ principal’s office!” Ly adds, bending over to look as well. “Not exactly academic fashion though, is it?”

Sybil shakes her head. “I’m afraid not… I can’t read what’s inscribed, but if I’m not mistaken…”

The doll trails off. She’s hardly ever mistaken--finish the thought!

“Druidic runes. I’m almost certain of it.”

You’re not driving, so you politely ask Art to slam on the brakes dramatically.

“No.” He replies, putting the van’s turn signal on as he maneuvers around a toppled ice cream truck.

“This is…” Sybil continues, bringing the amulet closer to her doll, “There’s no doubt about it--there’s something emanating from this trinket!”

Is it radioactive? Double the super powers!

“No, I don’t think so. There’s a very faint pulse, however… I can barely sense it!”

Great, add it to the pile of shit you don’t understand. The doll pokes the amulet a few times, then turns to you.

“I’ll fiddle with it a bit--with luck we can get something out of it!”

“Uh, guys?” Art asks, clearly trying to get your attention.

So should you… You know… Wear it?

“I don’t think so.” Sybil responds. “For all we know it could remove all the moisture from your body or teleport you to another plane of existence.”

“Guys?” Art repeats.

Yea, what’s up? You ask, somewhat flustered.

“Do uh… Do you guys hear that?”

It takes you a moment over the van’s engine, but once you do you can’t ignore it--down the street to your right you hear the unmistakable sound of TANK TREADS...

And they’re coming THIS WAY!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702776
Before you can react, Art pulls the van behind a nearby fruit cart and kills the engine! All of you sink in your seats as the sound grows louder… And CLOSER!

You don’t have to wait much longer for your curiosity to be sated--the familiar shape of a tank barrel appears from down the street attached to military hardware right out of World War II!

“A Roosevelt!” Art hisses, sinking lower in his seat! Before you can ask him to elaborate, the rest of the tank appears from around the corner! Protected by crude welded-on spikes, the tank resembles something you’d see at the Reptile House at the zoo…

What really worries you is the large mounted machine gun by the entrance hatch manned by a very pissed-off skeleton wearing a tattered olive army kit! Riding on the sides are three other skeletons, each wearing similar fatigues and helmets. Naturally all of them are armed--sub-machine guns hang limply at their sides along with several grenades.

SHIT!” Arthur hisses as the tank continues forward.

“Don’t worry,” Sybil says, her voice shaking ever so slightly, “They haven’t seen us yet!”

“She just had ta’ say ‘yet’, didn’t she...” Mutters Ly. Art rapidly glances between you and the soldiers unsure of what to do!

“Should we wait? Back up? Should… Should we… Make a detour?” Art stutters, gesturing towards the side of the road at a nearby GAS STATION. You frown--not a lot of room to maneuver on this block!

>Let’s WAIT here--they might just drive by!
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
>Let’s CUT THROUGH THE GAS STATION. A bit risky, but it could get us out of here quick!
>WRITE-IN
Last update of the night, but I'll check in TOMORROW around 10am PST! Thanks again for playing and have a good weekend if I don't see ya!
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
Its probably on a patrol route, we should double back and cut through where it came from.
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s WAIT here--they might just drive by!
IIRC I think the GBDB logos were wiped off, so we'll just look like an abandoned car. Let's do that thing in movies where everyone lowers their seat as far back as it goes and lies down above the window's sight level and just wait for them to pass- they probably won't waste ammo on a random car.

If we do see them shooting around for funsies and blowing stuff up however then let's double back and escape to be safe
>>
>>4702988
below the window's sight level*
>>
>>4702794
>>4702833
>Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged!

>>4702988
>Hiding in plain sight!

Writing!
>>
The whole street is lined with businesses--no way you’re darting into an alley here! You’re fairly sure there was another route behind you, though--as long as you can make it there…

“They’re coming dis’ way!” Ly hisses, pointing at the approaching tank! No time to suss it out anymore--let’s head backwards and loop around!

“Got it!” Art nods, putting the van in reverse!

“Carefully now…” Sybil warns, “We don’t want to draw their attention!”

>Roll 1d100 to slip away! I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>4703242
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>4703242
I'm feelin' lucky!
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>4703242
>>
>>4703254
>>4703255
>>4703270
>Highest roll: 65
Tanks for the rolls--writing!
>>
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With cool poise, Art quietly takes the van backwards as the tank begins to round the corner! He has to go FASTER!

Art doesn’t say anything. Drifting backwards like a ghost, he deftly takes the van back and around the nearest corner just as the tank trundles onto the street you were just on! You ride quietly in reverse for a while as Art carefully weaves between burned-out car husks and torn up road--did… Did that just happen?

“You bet it did.” Art boasts quietly. One three-point-turn later the road trip is BACK ON free of all tanks! Rolling down your window and letting your fingers hang out, you glance at the driver--gotta say, that was pretty slick!

“Well, they picked me as the van driver for a reason!” Art replies, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

Sybil glows for a moment, then looks at the two of you. “I’m not reading a tank anywhere nearby--either they aren’t following us or I’m losing my touch…”

“Let’s hope it’s da’ first one, then!” Ly remarks. “Almost forgot about da’ other skeletons--not just greasers out there anymore!”

Sybil nods. “Especially in Central Clearwater--something important is there, that’s for sure, but we won’t find out what without going through those soldiers…”

Yea, not happening. At least not right now. Even without that tank those guys were all packing heat--something tells you they aren’t gonna be like the greasers.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a large object swooping low over your van--looking upwards you see a colossal flying beast twisting upwards into the blood-red sky with its boney wings! Oh crap, you forgot about those!

“They don’t seem too interested in things on the ground…” Sybil muses. “All the same, we should be careful when walking around in open areas!”

Art nods. “Don’t have to tell me twice…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703343
The rest of the ride goes rather smoothly--despite having to dodge several skeleton soldier roadblocks and a particularly NASTY pothole, your trip to West Clearwater proves to be rather uneventful!

“Good think we lost that tank!” Art sighs, “Maybe we can actually pull this off!”

Well not if you jinx it like that! Before you know it the van pulls into familiar territory--yep, there’s the playground you lost your tooth in! Finding a suitable parking spot, Art stops the van and turns to face you, Syb, and Ly.

“Alrighty.” He begins with a serious tone, “The Security Station’s just down the street--concrete eyesore, can’t miss it. How do we wanna crack this egg?”

Depends! Didn’t he say he could get us in? Art squirms in his seat a bit.

“Well…. Maybe. There’s a BACK ENTRANCE where a lot of the guys used to smoke, but that’s fenced off and might have cameras.”

“What about the FRONT?” Sybil interjects, “Maybe they’ll let us in if it’s just Arthur driving?”

The Rent-A-Cop nods. “I’m sure they’d ask who I was, but I could always say I escaped capture or something…”

Heh, as if. The operative shoots a glance your way.

“You have a better idea?”

Maybe! You could have him DISTRACT the guards while you sneak in--or HE could be the one doing the spy work…

Not one to be forgotten, your skeleton’s Astral Projection pops his head through the base of the van.

“Just scoped da’ place out. TWO GOONS IN FRONT guardin’ da’ parking area, TWO mannin’ a checkpoint INSIDE. Saw ONE GUY SMOKIN’ in da’ back, but dat’s it.”

What about the rooms? Did he catch what’s in ‘em?

“Ehh. There’s a control room and an armory-type place, but besides that nothin’. Oh, there’s an elevator for da’ parkin’ area, though!”

“In that case…” Art begins, “What’s the plan?”

>SNEAK IN through the BACK.
>Have ART TROJAN HORSE into the PARKING STRUCTURE
>DISTRACTION! Someone can mess around in front while you SNEAK IN!
>SYB, you have any MAGIC we can use?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4703346
>WRITE-IN
>SYB, you have any MAGIC we can use?

First things first, we head to the front where there's apparently less cameras and knock out those two guards. Let's try not to kill 'em if possible.

Then we can put on their outfits and have Syb use that glamour spell she used back at the diner to make us look the rest of the way like one of the guards.

We go in and get what we need. If anyone sees or asks about Art, we cover for him as supposedly one of those guards up front.
>>
>>4703346
>SNEAK IN through the BACK.
Send in art to distract this dude, shouldn't be difficult. that or >>4703352
>>
>>4703352
>>4703390
Gonna leave this open a little longer just in case. Otherwise I'll roll for the tiebreaker!
>>
>>4703390
>>4703444
Just changing my vote to >>4703352
>>
>>4703352
>>4703475
The ole' switcharoo! Writing!
>>
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The plan is simple, you begin, giving your pals a conspiratorial look. STEP ONE: We deal with the guards out front. Quietly, if possible!

“Following so far…” Art nods.

STEP TWO: Take their outfits and walk in like we own the place!

“Do uh… Do I need a new one?” Art asks, cocking his head to the side. “I mean… It’s not like we have name tags or anything…”

“He’s right. Quite the oversight on Good Boy’s part.” Sybil adds. You shake your head vigorously--if we’re gonna pull this off we’re following the plan TO THE LETTER. Art’s getting new armor, damn it!

“Okay, sheesh!” The operative responds, raising his hands defensively. “What’s next?”

If we want to be 100% bullet-proof, Syb will have to use that glandular spell or whatever from when you went to the diner.

“The glamor spell?” Syb asks, looking at you. “I can do that, sure, but I’ll have to recharge for a while afterwards…”

“Speaking of magic,” Art interjects, “What spells DO you have, Syb?”

Hey, that’s a good point--you never really got the menu! The doll cocks its head to the side and you can almost hear the sound of papers rustling in the background.

Oh boy, here we go.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703542
“Well…” She begins, “You’ve already seen GLAMOR. I can change someone’s image to something else, but it doesn’t last for more than an hour or so. I believe I can use it once a day… Twice tops.”

“Makes sense.” Ly nods, “Pretty useful spell!”

“Next,” Syb continues, “Is Arctic Blast: I can cast a cone of sub-zero temperature in front of me, but it takes a moment to cast.”

Sounds cool. Art resists the urge to punch you, then motions for Syb to continue.

“Third is Shocking Grasp.” Syb explains, a spark of electricity passing along her button eyes. “Anything touching me gets a jolt. Not exactly deadly in this form,” She remarks, gesturing to the doll, “But it can knock out machines and wake people up!”

Good so far… Anything else?

“Well there’s Arcane Bolt.”

Oh yea, you got a peek of that when she almost vaporized Art back at the apartment. Good times!

“...And Clairvoyance.” Sybil concludes. “Those two I can practically use at will. I’ve been using the latter all day, but can only focus on one thing at a time, as you know.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Art begins in a tone that will definitely be taken the wrong way, “But I would have expected you to have a bigger uh… Skill set.”

You blink, just barely catching a flash of red in Sybil’s eyes.

“Unfortunately this doll can only channel so much magic…” Sybil explains. “In person I can be much more creative, but with this I’m afraid I have to simplify…”

Hey, that’s okay, you say, patting the doll on the head! She coulda’ told you more about her powers earlier, though!

“... You never asked.”

Well then.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703546
Fucking formatting.

“In that case,” Art begins, “Why don’t we try to knock out the guys out front first? We’ll do the glamor once things are settled--hell, we might not even have to change form if we play our cards right!”

Yea RIGHT. They’re just gonna accept a girl security guard? No way, Jose!

“Actually, uh…” Art responds, “There’s quite a few girls on staff. Not sure how you didn’t pick up on that before.”

You’re there during the graveyard shift, sheesh! Anyways, we’ll crush that bridge when we get to it--for now let’s take care of the goons!

Your team nods and after a quick ‘Hands In, GO TEAM’, you break! You, Syb, and Ly disembark while Art backs the van into a nearby alley.

“Hope that’s enough!” Ly quips as Art hops out of the driver’s seat and locks it. Guess it’ll have to be!

Rejoined by the Rent-A-Cop, your merry band creeps down the block and crouches near some bullet-riddled concrete barriers. Up ahead you see the concrete eyesore Ly was talking about--if you didn’t know better you’d assume this was a bunker. Or the DMV.

“See that? Two guys, one camera in the entrance!” Art hisses, pointing them out for you. A red light above the entry door tips you off about the camera--the goons are easy enough to find idling in front of a folding steel gate and a rising door which you assume to be the parking garage entrance.

The buildings around the security station are squat--if needed you could probably try to climb up to get the drop on them! The ground approach might be a tad trickier--looks like the pavement is clear past the barriers you’re currently hiding behind. Perhaps a DISTRACTION could work?

“Got any bright ideas?” Art asks.

>I’ll get the DROP on them from the roofs--COVER ME.
>ART can DISTRACT them!
>Let’s FIND something to DISTRACT them with--should be something loud around here.
>On second thought, let’s check the BACK entrance.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4703547
>Let’s FIND something to DISTRACT them with--should be something loud around here.
We've got isopropyl alcohol, always useful for fire
>>
>>4703553
+1 to this, maybe we can start a dumpster fire nearby and get them to panic.

Also let's ask Syb to float up when they're distracted and SHOCKING GRASP the camera so it goes dead.
>>
>>4703547
>ART can DISTRACT them!
>>
>>4703553
>>4703560
>DISTRACTION!

>>4703584
>ART DISTRACTION!

Writing!
>>
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Yes, a DISTRACTION will do just fine, thank you! You snap for Ly’s attention and quietly ask him to find something flammable--preferably close!

“Not like I can jog down da’ block…” Mutters Ly as he soars down the street.

“We’re gonna draw them away?” Art asks, to which you nod. It should be easier to take them down when they aren’t hanging out in front of the station!

“What would you like me to do?” Syb asks, raising a yarn eyebrow. She will be taking down that camera out front with her nifty SPELLS!

“Leave it to me!” The doll replies with a wink! Giving her another pat on the head, your attention turns to Ly as he returns with a huge grin on his face.

“There’s a big dumpster right around da’ corner!” He grins, “You torch that and they’ll have ta’ come runnin’!”

Nodding to Art, the two of you scamper in the direction Ly takes you and quickly reach the dumpster! Not too far down the road you spy a heavy-duty fence covered in barbed wire--most likely the Back Entrance Art mentioned earlier!

“Go on, light it up!” Art hisses excitedly. All in good time!

Fishing through your inventory, you retrieve your ZIPPO LIGHTER and the BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL. Gotta add the lighter fluid to the grill first, you say with a smirk!

“Niiiice.” Responds the Rent-A-Cop. While he pops open the dumpster lid, you get to work dousing the trash. Quite a bit of stuff in here for such a small station!

“What can I say--Security Guards eat a lot!” Art explains, holding the lid open. Shrugging, you flick your lighter open and hold it next to a pile of pizza boxes quickly setting them ablaze!

You and Art scurry back to the concrete barricades chuckling like teens playing Ding-Dong-Ditch. You can already smell the smoke by the time you return!

“Wait… Where’s Syb?” Art asks, scanning the area for the doll. Before you can respond, you notice a flicker of movement by the entrance--a small doll hovering in the camera’s blind spot. Shooting you a gesture that you can only assume to be a thumbs up, the doll stands ready--all you can do now is WAIT!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703690
“...So now she’s all PISSED OFF at me. Won’t even talk to me anymore!”

You and Art sit impatiently as the two guards in front of the station refuse to notice the huge plume of smoke growing around the block. What the HELL, dude!?

“But you still love her, right?” The other guard says, fumbling with their rifle.

“Of course, that’s what I’m saying!” The first one replies, “It’s not like I’m dating someone else--how the hell is that cheating!?”

The fire crackles from underneath the dumpster’s cover, but the two still aren’t moving. Even Syb is looking bored.

“To be fair, it’s called a dating sim for a reason.” Replies the second guard.

“Oh don’t YOU start too! It’s fictional! What, she gets to read her romance comics but I can’t play a game? Fuck that!”

“He has a point…” Art whispers as if you CARE.

“I just hide mine in my ‘Scanned Docs’ folder.” Replies the other guard. “Shelly ain’t gonna look there.”

“See, you’re lucky.” The first guard interjects, “Kim is all over that shit. She has her own computer, but the minute I log out of mine she acts like I’m hiding something!”

Okay, you’re gonna be here all day. Cupping your hands together, you let out your best Whooping Crane impersonation causing the two of them to whip around in your direction!

“That sounded like a Whooping Crane!” Shouts the first guard!

“I thought they were endangered! What a find!” Adds the second!

Before they can investigate further, the second guard finally notices the towering inferno right next to their station!

“Hey… Fire!”

“Probably meant to distract us. Let’s stay here for a bit--it’ll die out.” Replies the other.

“SHIT!” Hisses Art, smacking his fist against the pavement!

As the two prepare to resume their discussion, the first guard looks back at the smoke, concern growing on his masked face (you’ve had a lot of practice observing Art).

“Wait a minute… NO!!!” Before his partner can stop him, the guard sprints around the corner and starts rummaging through the trash!

“Hey, what the--what’s your PROBLEM?!” Huffs the other, chasing after him.

“I was saving some PICKLE CHIPS in here!” Replies Guard #1 frantically! “We’ve gotta save ‘em!”

“... Why were you stashing PICKLE CHIPS?” The second guard asks, holding open the dumpster lid.

“If I had them out here I knew you’d ask for some and you KNOW you never take a handful!” Snaps Guard 1 as he digs through the rubbish!

“You KNOW I have blood sugar problems!” Spits the other guard. “And you coulda’ just told me you didn’t want to share!”

As an argument brews, Art motions for you to follow--looks like this is as good of a time as any!

>Roll 1d100 to knock these goofs out! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Remember, describing how you do it can give you BONE-USES!
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>4703693
Holy shit that whole second post had me actually laughing out loud

>Get the TELESCOPING MOP and try to bat them both in the back of the head. Ideally in one strike
>>
Going out for a bit--if I don't return later tonight I'll write you guys an update early Sunday morning around 9-10AM PST! Thanks so much for playing and good luck on the rolling!
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>4703693
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>4703693
>>
>>4703712
>>4703800
>>4703828
>Highest Roll: 61
Writing!
>>
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Creeping up behind the guards, you and Art take your positions and prepare to strike--him with the butt of his rifle, you with your TELESCOPING MOP!
“Found ‘em!” Goon #1 reports! “They’re still good!”

As he emerges triumphantly with the PICKLE CHIPS, you extend your mop and swing for their heads!

“It WAS a distractio-”

Goon #2 never gets a chance to finish his sentence. Your mop and Art’s rifle connect with both of their helmets simultaneously with a loud DING!

Unfortunately it seems like that’s all it does. Rubbing their heads, the guards turn to face you--what the hell?! You hit their heads!

“You hit our HELMETS.” Guard #1 corrects, cracking his knuckles menacingly. “And now we’re gonna hi-”

Goon #1 never gets a chance to finish his sentence. Your mop and Art’s rifle connect with both of their FACES simultaneously with a loud THUNK!

As the goons slump unconscious, you begin sorting through their gear--both are carrying rifles similar to Art’s, of course, along with a few magazines of ammo. Each guard also carries a RADIO tuned to CHANNEL 3 and a small baton with a button on the side. Intrigued, you press it and marvel as the stick extends and starts buzzing with an electric current!

“They never gave me one of those!” Art pouts, quickly stowing one in his kit along with some more ammo. Shrugging, you pilfer the contents too.

You have obtained N4 RIFLE!/green]
You have obtained RADIO CHANNEL 9 FOR GOOD BOY
You have obtained STUN BATON

With that you begin the painstaking process of undressing your guard--while his fit is nowhere close to your measurements, you quickly don the outfit over your existing clothes. Stuffing your cap in your pockets, you turn to face Art--how the hell does he manage to see out of this thing?!

“I mostly just guess.” Art reports to the wall next to you. “What about these guys?”

You look down at the guards at your feet. Yea, we oughta hide ‘em! You and Art lift and toss the bodies into the dumpsters, then dust your hands off as you walk away.

“Wait a minute…” Art mutters, “Oh. Fire.”

You nod. Fire.

You and Art backpedal back to the dumpster and quickly remove the bodies. Smothering the fire with a grubby half-finished FORTY at the bottom of the dumpster, you and Art lift and toss the bodies into the dumpsters, then dust your hands off as you walk away.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4704236
As you and Art emerge from around the corner in your Security Goon Garb, you’re greeted with the sound of fizzling electronics. A moment later, Sybil peers around the corner and gives you an arm stub up!

How does she know it’s you?

“Lucky guess. Are you both ready for a makeover?”

Art shrugs. “That depends--do we need the glamor? Syb will be out of commission for a while if we do it...”

It could be useful, that’s for sure--looking at the ID Card in your pocket tells you your name is Alfonzo Ricci--something tells you that’s not a girl’s name.

“We can also just say we lost them or something!” Art suggests. “That way we have Syb around in case stuff hits the fan!”

Sybil nods. “I’m prepared for anything you decide on!”

What do?
>GLAMOR us up, please!
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!
>WRITE-IN
Sorry for flubbing formatting again--about to play a Tabletop with some pals so I'll be signing off for tonight. I'll check in tomorrow morning around 9AM PST though!
>>
>>4704238
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!

>the ID Card in your pocket tells you your name is Alfonzo Ricci--something tells you that's not a girl's name
Neither is Stanley babyyyyy we got this no need for the glamor after all

Have fun! See you tomorrow man
>>
>>4704238
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!
We got the disguises, that should be enough. We might need magical support further on.
>>
>>4704238
>GLAMOR us up, please!
>>
Sorry folks, some errands popped up that I have to run today and I probably won't be able to whip up an update until around 1-2PM PST. Apologies for the wait--will leave this vote open until then!
>>
>>4704249
>>4704387
>No Glamor!

>>4704404
>Bippity Boppity Boo, bitch!

Writing!
>>
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You find yourself shaking your head. Syb’s more useful when she’s active, and having her spend all of her energy generating some extra disguises just doesn’t seem worth it in the long run. Besides, you’ve got Art--he’s the one who said he’d get you in!

“Y-yea!” The guard replies, “Count on it!”

You are. You’re about to walk into the lion’s den here, not an R-Rated movie. Stuffing herself into one of the many pouches hanging from your guard uniform, Sybil peeks out one last time and looks your way.

“If something goes wrong, just say ‘Abracadabra’!”

With that you and Art push your way through the doors leading into the Security Station, emerging into what resembles a waiting room at a Dentist’s Office minus the cool toys! Ahead of you is a reception area manned by a lone security goon behind bulletproof glass. The station beyond is blocked off by a barred gate, but the grooves on the ground suggest that it’s made to move if the right button is pressed! You see a similar groove in the floor dividing the checkpoint and the waiting room.

Looking past the bars you notice two sets of elevator doors and hallways trailing to the left and right--hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for through there… If you can get in, that is!

“Just be cool.” Art hisses as the two of you approach the checkpoint. Stepping in front of the reception desk, you stifle a jolt as another gate shuffles from inside the wall behind you and cuts off your retreat--you’re TRAPPED! AAAH!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4705256
“Back from the killing fields, huh?” The receptionist grunts, a feminine voice muffled by the mask on her face. “Helmets off, please.” She recites, barely taking her eyes off of the Water Polo Monthly magazine in front of her.

“Oh! Uhherrr…” Art babbles, instantly losing all of his cool. DAMN IT, ART! You feel the rusty cogs in your brain squeal as they quickly form a plan in your head!

They’re uh… They’re stuck. Can’t get ‘em off! The receptionist looks at you like you just grew antennae.

“...Stuck?”

“Yep!” Art adds, nodding in assent. “Lost our knives in an ambush--been stuck with these things all day!”

The receptionist looks you both up and down for a while, then sighs.

“Wow. That’s like… The twelfth time I’ve heard that today. You guys must be starving.”

You bet we are, you reply, a bit too enthusiastically! The receptionist shrugs.

“No problem. You guys mind opening your coats, please? Gotta make sure you aren’t boney.”

You and Art exchange glances, then unzip your coat-WAIT A MINUTE, THE HOODIE!

As you start to panic, you feel something small and doll-shaped tug your hoodie collar downwards. You unzip just enough to show the receptionist the top of your black tank top who reacts with a satisfied nod.

“Lookin’ good...”

You zip back up as her gaze lingers on your chest, causing the receptionist to glance Art’s way. Underneath your pal’s security outfit is a sweaty black t-shirt with the words Alchemical Beauty Rina emblazoned above a picture of the character you caught him…. examining back when you first met. The receptionist lets out a derisive snort.

“Yea, that’ll do.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4705258
You and Art share a quick fist-bump as the receptionist writes something down on a piece of paper.

“IDs, please.”

Oh crap--this might be trickier! Your hand closes around the ID you swiped from the guard outside, but do you dare use that one?! Looking at Art’s face you can sense he has similar reservations!

What do?!
>Give her the GUARD IDS and FAKE IT.
>Say you LOST them! What a SHAME!
>Ask HER for HER ID! Take control!
>Get ART to SEDUCE her!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705260
>Give her the GUARD IDS and FAKE IT.
We could try playing it off like we're Trans and the ID is older. Might work if she doesn't know the guy we stole from super well.

Alternatively we could just give it and be like 'Ah crap that's right- I borrowed (what's his name's) uniform cuz I needed to do laundry. Must've had his ID instead- that means mine's in the wash!'
>>
>>4705283
Writing!
>>
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With a cordial nod, you reach into your inventory and slap Alphonzo Ricci’s ID card down, causing Art to somehow sweat THROUGH HIS MASK. You shoot him a look that says “No worries, I’ve got a plan!” But by the way his face looks you’re pretty sure it came out as “AAAAAAAAA”.

The receptionist takes a look at the photo of the bearded man with a darker skin color than you in the photo, then back at you, then back to the photo, then back to…. You get it.

“This uh…” She begins, not sure how to properly express her confusion, “This isn’t you, honey.”

You’ve got a BITE!

You glance down at the ID ever so subtly, then perform the biggest double-take you can muster! Oozing shock and embarrassment, you raise your hands to your cheeks and rapidly shake your head! Oh NO!!

“Oh no?” Art asks, clearly not getting the plan yet.

NOW you remember, you exclaim, slapping your forehead dramatically, you had to do LAUNDRY and you didn’t have any clothes to change into so Alphonzo lent you his! Guess you forgot to give his ID back--silly you!

The receptionist stares at you for a few moments, her steely mask-covered gaze completely unreadable.

“You borrowed his uniform.” She asks, clearly not believing it.

Yep!

“... Despite being able to ask for another from the Quartermaster’s office?”

Yep!

“... And you forgot to give his ID back?”

You betcha.

“... So theoretically he has yours?”

Mmmmmyep.

The receptionist stares you down for a while as if she was trying to melt you. When you don’t sink into the floor, she sighs.

“Fine. Leave his ID here--the lazy bastard can pick it up when he comes back inside.”

The receptionist turns to Art as every nerve in your body relaxes.

“So where’s yours?”

“So I had to do laundry-”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

Pressing a button under her desk, the receptionist returns to her magazine as the bars blocking entrance into the station retract into the wall. With a polite ‘Thank You’, you and Art make your way towards the elevators.

>CONTD.
>>
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“Let’s see…” Art mutters, peering down the hall, “Locker rooms and armory are to the left, the office is to the right....”

Which one should you start with, though? As you and your pal debate where to visit first, a voice rings out from behind you!

“WAIT A MINUTE!”

Instinctively taking cover behind Art, you look behind you at the source of the voice--the receptionist is glaring your way from the Check-In desk!

Y-yes?

“Blumenkrantz changed the code. Now it’s UP, UP, DOWN, CLOSE DOOR.”

“W-which code again?” Art stutters, prompting a derisive sigh from the desk.

“The elevator, genius. Tell Baker to get Mitzi some chips or something when you get there.”

Who the hell is Mitzi? You ask, adjusting your helmet a bit.

“Me, that’s who.” The receptionist fires back, returning to her magazine. You and Art exchange a glance, then jolt as Ly’s glowing skull peeks through the floor!

“STAN--the ELEVATOR!”

Yes, Ly, it goes up and down. Riveting.

“No, there’s….” Your skeleton begins, “I can’t get in! There’s some sort of BARRIER!”

You raise an eyebrow towards Art. Intriguing!

“What is?” He replies. “You talkin’ to Ly again?”

“Are you STILL HERE?!” Growls Mitzi, still preoccupied by the magazine! Whoops, looks like it’s time to start snooping somewhere!

Where to first?
>The LOCKERS and ARMORY! Sounds useful!
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!
>The ELEVATOR! Seems suspicious!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705607
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!

As tempting as more weapons and armor is, we need info first and foremost- especially if we're on a timer until big boy gets here

That elevator is curious too. The fact that it's warded may mean there's some magical fuckshit going on, but we can check that out later
>>
>>4705607
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!
>>
>>4705616
>>4705653
OFFICE SPACE it is! Writing!
>>
You motion for Art to follow you down the hall to the OFFICE which he picks up on almost immediately. Starting down the hall, you itch at your neck through the mask--is it always this ITCHY?!

“Yep, and good luck when it fogs up.” Art whispers. The two of you pass a set of restrooms and a Janitor’s Closet before coming to a door at the end of the hall marked with a black plaque above it reading “Office”. Bingo.

Art makes for the door handle, but you stop him. Sensing your intent, Ly pops through the door to the office and returns after a few moments.

“We’ve got a guy.” He reports. “Probably the one who went for da’ smoke break!”

Cursing under your breath, you turn to Art and report what Ly told you.

“Just one?” He responds, rubbing his chin in thought. “I expected more--this just got easier.”

How the hell is it any easier when there’s someone IN THERE? You hiss, pointing at the door.

“This place was an anthill the other night!” Art replies, shrugging. “All we need to do is get that guy out of there--can’t be too tough, right?”

You growl… TYPICAL! You’re gonna need details--it’s kinda hard to see the guy Ly mentioned through a closed wood door… Ly snaps to attention with a quick salute.

“He’s facin’ da’ door,'' He begins, “and he’s got his full kit on. Probably doesn’t plan on bein’ there long!”

It’s a start… Anything else in the room you can use? You ask, leaning against the wall as Art observes with a confused look.

“Lessee.... We’ve got a SPRINKLER SYSTEM ta’ put out fires, FIRE ALARMS, of course, and a BACK DOOR to dat’ area from before. There’s a few COMPUTERS in there too--looks like they need a login.”

You relay the last bit to Art who gives you a thumbs up. “I can help with that! It’ll probably only show my account though…”

You were thinkin’ technical difficulties...You know, a more subtle approach!

“Lastly,” Ly interjects, “We could always tell him someone’s lookin’ for him!”

You nod--all very good options. Relaying the full info to Art, you’re rewarded with a shrug. Fantastic.

What’s the plan?
>PULL the FIRE ALARM! It should get everyone out!
>MESS with a COMPUTER! Maybe the guy can HELP!
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705816
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
"Mitzi says to get her chips. It's an emergency. A chipmergency, if you will"
>>
>>4705821
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
+1 to dark blues suggestion
>>
>>4705821
>>4705881
Gonna keep this open til' tomorrow--got work early in the morning. Apologies for the sporadic updates--shit got busy this weekend! Will check in again at 3-4PM PST tomorrow, thanks again for playing!
>>
>>4705886
No problem man, I'm still having an absolute blast! See you tomorrow and hope your week starts off good
>>
>>4705816
This guy has it: >>4705821
>>
>>4705821
>>4705881
>>4705905
MITZI NEEDS HER CHIPS! WRITING!
>>
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As fun as it would be to pull the fire alarm, something tells you that a more subtle approach is required here. Gesturing for Art to follow you, you shove the door to the office open and stroll in like you own the place!

… Or at least like you work at the place. You’ll go with that for now. True to Ly’s word, a lone security goon sits at a nearby terminal clacking away at the keyboard. Surrounding him are several other desks topped with deactivated computers, nondescript paperwork, and two simple drawers at knee height. In the back corner sits a doorway most likely leading to the area outside in the back.

Your grand entrance causes the room’s sole occupant to stop abruptly and look at you and Art like you just interrupted something. Which, you know… You probably did.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his mask barely hiding his annoyed tone. TOUCHY!

>Roll 1d100 + 10 to determine how well you do in convincing him I’ll take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! No, you don’t need glasses--you have NUMERICAL BONE-USES NOW! You get a persuasion bonus for your SLICK OUTFITS, but don’t forget to include what you say or do if it’s any different from “MITZI NEEDS CHIPS!”
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>4706720
>>
Rolled 88 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4706720
>Roll 1d100 + 10 to determine how well you do in convincing him I’ll take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! No, you don’t need glasses--you have NUMERICAL BONE-USES NOW! You get a persuasion bonus for your SLICK OUTFITS, but don’t forget to include what you say or do if it’s any different from “MITZI NEEDS CHIPS!”
She needs some chips.
>>
Rolled 97 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4706720
Using the same line I wrote in da vote
>>
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Rolling to desperately escape Talbot: Barely make it, nearly get severe burns or injuries in the process

Rolling to lie about chips: Pic related
>>
>>4706727
>>4706735
>>4706745
>Highest Roll: 107
Okay, escaping from Talbot was nasty, sure, but this is important, damn it--she NEEDS chips.

Writing, by the way
>>
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Ignoring the clear ‘tude in the goon’s voice you take a few steps deeper into the office, then point in what you assume is the direction of reception.

Wait… Just a bit more to the left.

There ya go.

Mitzi says to get her chips, you report like the matter of utmost importance it is, It’s an emergency!

The goon stares at you for a moment before taking a sip from the #1 Goon mug in front of him on the desk.

A CHIPmergency, if you will.

“An eMUNCHency?” Art adds, looking to you for approval. Not bad!

The goon behind the desk clicks his mouse a few times before letting out a quiet sigh.

“MotherFRICK!” He roars, abruptly standing up and sweeping everything, mug and keyboard included, off the desk!

“Every godDAMN time!” He continues as you and Art back up a bit. “ ‘Go make a pot of coffee,DEREK! Go empty the trash-- it smells like SHIT, DEREK!! Go do EVERYTHING, DEREK!!!!

“Holy crap...” Ly whispers as the goon stomps towards the door.

She uh… She didn’t say what type she wanted, but--

“Oh don’t worry, DEREK will figure it out! Mitzi needs her CHIPS!” Derek shouts, throwing his hands in the air! “I HATE THE SHIT OUTTA’ THIS PLACE!” He screams, voice cracking near the end!

Is… Is he crying?

“Just uh… Let’s move.” Art recommends, prompting the two of you to get out of the way. Derek ignores you as he yanks the door open and makes his way down the hall, muttering under his breath the whole way. You and Art exchange a glance--that went pretty well!

“Sure did, but we’d better HURRY!” Art replies, gesturing to the room. Let’s see…

You could start by CHECKING THE TERMINAL. Derek probably didn’t log out and you love reading other people’s emails!

There are also several DRAWERS in each desk--maybe you can FIND SOME STUFF!

Lastly, there’s the BACK EXIT HALLWAY.

What’s FIRST?
>CHECK THE TERMINAL!
>SEARCH the DRAWERS!
>Check the BACK EXIT!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4706796
>CHECK THE TERMINAL!
Oh fuck we haven't gotten to read anyone's emails since Thread 1!

Also we need da info
>>
>>4706796
>CHECK THE TERMINAL!
>>
>>4706796
>CHECK THE TERMINAL!
God I love being a nosy bitch
>>
>>4706800
>>4706812
>>4706815
Another violation of workplace etiquette it is! Writing!
>>
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You feel an itch between your eyes and on the palms of your hands along with a rising appetite for knowledge…

Of OTHER PEOPLE’S STUFF!

“Hoooooo boy…” Ly chuckles to himself as you scamper across the room and plant yourself in front of the computer!

“Good call--he probably has more info than my account does… Probably already deactivated…” Art mumbles, taking position behind you and looking over your shoulder. Cracking your knuckles, you place the keyboard back in front of the computer and grin--time for some HACKING!

“It’s not really hacking if they’re already logged i-” Art begins, but you’ve tuned him out--you need your concentration, after all!

https://youtu.be/bhSR6_PyV0Y

Gliding your fingers over the keyboard, you’re treated to Derek’s desktop. Gonk didn’t even have a password--sloppy!

Like the terminal back at Good Boy, the available programs are pretty BARE BONES.

There’s the MeMail application, of course--always a pleasure to look through on a boring graveyard shift. Looks like Derek forgot to read a few emails judging by the NEW MAIL notification blinking on it!

This thing also has a PeepO app as well! It should be hooked up to some cameras around the office!

Not to be outdone is the Command Prompt. You’ll admit your knowledge of the commands is pretty sloppy, but you could probably impress Art by ordering some pizzas or something!

Last but not least is the Internet Browser with a tab already open to some sort of anime game…. Wait a minute…

You hazard a glance back at your partner and sure enough you can see him DROOLING through his dumb mask!

“N-NO WAY!” He squeals, barely containing his disgusting excitement, “T-T-TH-THE FAN TRANSLATION OF ALCHEMICAL BEAUTY RINA: DEVIL BOOGIE! It’s OUT!!!!!!

Oh god keep him away from the computer.

>Check the MAIL--There could be DIRT in there!
>Try out the CAMERA APP--Maybe you can spy on some stuff!
>Enter a COMMAND in the COMMAND PROMPT (WRITE-IN)
>Try the WEEB GAME
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4706862
>Check the MAIL--There could be DIRT in there!
>>
>>4706862
>Try the WEEB GAME
"Oh come on Art, it can't be *that* great. Here, let me see what this is..."

Okay I know objectively we need the info but I'm too intrigued
>>
>>4706862
>Try the WEEB GAME
Theirs something about obviously bad choices that intrigue me.
>>
>>4706872
>Readin' Emails!

>>4706876
>>4706968
>:3

Writing!
>>
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On one hand, you know you’ve got work to do. Derek or someone else could come back in any minute, Tidbit could come crashing through the wall and crush you like a soda can, Art could start talking about anime…

On the other hand, you’ve never been one to shy away from a game. Plus there’s no friggin’ way it’s that great, right?

You double click the Browser icon, ignoring Art’s frantic search for a chair. You figure you can play for a few minutes!

On the web page is an in-browser app window with a stylized ‘START’ button. Above that is a small blurb from a certain xXalchemi666Xx:

Konnichiwa! Thank you for all the support--at long last I have a working demo of Alchemical Beauty Rina: Devil Boogie! Only a small bit has been translated so far, but I hope you enjoy what’s there! More to follow!

Thanks, dude. Glancing nervously at Art (who has somehow managed to sweat THROUGH his mask again), you scroll down and click the ‘START’ button.

“God help us all…” Ly whispers.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4707035
https://youtu.be/k-PA8se4O18
The screen flashes with a BRIGHT PINK LIGHT as the character from Art’s shirt flashes a peace sign at the screen!

ARUKEMIKURU BEAUTY RINA! DEBIRY BOOGIE!

“SHIT YES, IT’S NOT THE DUB!” Art howls, pumping his fist! Shaking your head, you press the spacebar and are rewarded by a black screen. Great programming, dork--

“SSSH! It’s a cutscene!” Art hisses, leaning closer! Sure enough, a wall of text appears on a black background.

It is the dawn of the alchemy wars and the beginning of the troubles. As the evil is overtaking the good hearts, a shining beauty is call: “Make world heaven!” Say the god! “People are forget his grace.”

A slicing sound-effect is heard, followed by a thud.

“I bow before no god.” Said the red hair girl. “I believe in myself. And I believe in ALCHEMIC.”

A FLASH! The titular protagonist appears in an outfit that makes you blush. Her cat ears twitch as she grins at a dissolving monster behind her! Wait, the ears are REAL?!

“She got them in a FAILED ALCHEMY EXPERIMENT, GOSH!” Art groans! “Her dad was the Dark Magister and wanted to use her body to create the Philosopher’s Stone, but her heart was too pure an--Oh, whoops--spoilers.”

Oh no.

As the monster dissolves, RINA whirls a staff around and gives the camera a victory pose!

GOD IS DEADO!

Oh shit. God’s dead.

“Yep. He’s kinda a recurring character.” Art explains. “Just wait until the eighth season…”

No thanks. Her task complete, RINA disappears in a flash of light and reemerges wearing a Japanese School Uniform. Her staff transforming into a hairpin, she immediately adopts a surprised expression!

“KYAA! I will be late to the school!”

You groan. When does the player get to do something? Your question answers itself in the next scene where a mission objective flashes on-screen!

MISSION: APPROACH THE SCHOOL!

RINA runs down the streets of a classic Japanese suburb, the graphics resembling ink strokes in a manga. Before she can get to the titular ‘The School’, a crowd of guys in latex monster suits--

DEVILS.” Art SNARLS.

DEVILS appear, chuckling as they approach the girl.

“Keh heh heh!” Giggles a gu-DEMON in an ape suit, “The Dark Magister-Sama sends his condolences… On your DIE!”

Tapping her hairpin, RINA enters a somewhat lewd transformation sequence, emerging as ALCHEMICAL BEAUTY RINA!

“It can’t be help!” She huffs, “I do my best!”

Oh shit, you’re controlling her now! What do you do!?
>Button mash
>Test out the controls
>Let Art Play
>Turn it off!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4707038
>Let Art Play
I simply want him to be happy. Also then maybe we can actually do a little bit of productive work searching the desks or somethin
>>
>>4707038
>Let Art Play
>>
>>4707047
>>4707174
Passin' it off to Art! Writing!
>>
Nah. Just nah. Relinquishing your seat at the terminal, you motion for Art to take your place.

“Y-you sure?” He asks, hands hovering over the keyboard.

Yea, it was a really tough decision. Just don’t go overboard! The goon nods emphatically, then hops into the game like he was trained to play it.

“I’d be impressed if I weren’t so confused!” Ly muses as you put your hands on your hips and survey the office. There’s quite a few desks here--might not be a bad idea to look through a few!

“Holy crap, they included RIGHTEOUS DEVIL MODE?!?”

Yea, let’s focus on searching for now. You take your time rummaging around the desks for clues, sifting through papers, opening drawers.

“Strange…” Ly mutters, “There’s barely anything here!”

He’s right. It seemed like a fluke at first when the first two desks only had the bare minimum of office supplies in them, but as you systematically check each one you get the feeling that something’s…. off.

“Maybe they just opened?” Ly posits as you pick a coffee mug off of the floor that reads “At Least Mondays Only Happen Once a Week!” You decide not to take it with you.

“Any luck?” A muffled voice asks from your pocket! Hey, it’s Syb!

“I never left. What’s the situation?”

Art’s being a dork and there’s nothing here--that’s the situation. As the doll emerges from your pocket like someone just rolling out of bed, you frown--she cool?

“There’s some sort of interference...” She mumbles, “Probably whatever Art mentioned below. We should be cautious.”

Way ahead of ya. As you finish your sweep of the desks, you manage to track down TWO MORE MAGAZINES for your N4 RIFLE, FIVE PONGOS with THE GOOD BOY MASCOT on them, and lastly a GOOD BOY STAMP. Those you WILL take! As you pilfer the items, you notice a sticky note stuck to the side of a powered-down terminal that reads “DAY PASS: UNDERWORLD.”

Huh.

As you contemplate the meaning, you hear a swivel chair move near where you left Art. Turning around you find him standing up, the screen dominated with the words DEMO COMPLETE. That was fast!

“S’all yours.”

You can’t help but frown--that’s it? Didn’t he like it? The goon responds with a half-hearted shrug.

“Well it was a good start. They opted to re-record certain voice lines instead of touching up the ones from the show and it SHOWS. Also the school hub was pretty barebones--they haven’t even touched the romance syste-”

Gotcha. Scootch over.

Obliging, you take your seat at the computer once again and close the portal to Hel-er, the Net Browser. Back to Square One!

>Search the INTERNET for something(WRITE-IN)
>Check the CAMERAS
>Read Derek’s EMAILS
>Enter a COMMAND
>WRITE-IN
>>
Sorry for the double post, but I'll probably call it here tonight. Should have more updates TOMORROW around 3-4PM PST, but if I have time in the morning I'll possibly write a QUICK UPDATE around 9ish! Thanks for playing!
>>
>>4707231
>Read Derek’s EMAILS
>>
>>4707231
>Read Derek's EMAILS
>>
>>4707231
>Read Derek’s EMAILS
I 'spose we got the time
>>
>>4707231
>Enter a COMMAND
>>
>>4707303
>>4707262
>>4707239
>VIOLATE THAT PRIVACY ALREADY!

>>4707336
>HACKERWOMAN

Writing!
>>
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Ignoring the layer of sweat on the desk, you scoot your chair closer to the terminal and double click on the MeMail icon. As the mailing interface pops up on the screen you can’t help but groan--looks like Derek’s been good at cleaning up his inbox too.

“They automatically get archived by the system. Security precaution!” Art chips in. How convenient for them. Shaking your head, you quickly sift through the emails that HAVEN’T been archived...
--------------------------------------------------------------
>From: IT
>To: GBDB Staff
>Subject: Network Update
To all Good Boy staff--Due to the current circumstances we’ve rolled out a new update on all company devices that should allow for company network communication. Efforts to establish a connection beyond Clearwater are still proving fruitless, but further updates will be provided as the situation develops. On a related note, just because we’re having connection issues doesn’t mean we can’t see what you’re looking up on the company network--save that stuff for when you’re home alone, please. Preferably with the curtains closed.

You blink. Wait, then how were you able to play that game online?! Double-clicking the Net Browser icon, your dumbfounded face is met with a NETWORK ERROR page! The HELL!?

“Guess we were chosen…”Art mutters, thoughtfully glancing skyward. Yea RIGHT.
--------------------------------------------------------------
>From: JMirman
>To: DLawendoski
>Subject: Sewer Duty
Derek--got another job for you. I won’t get into specifics, but there’s been… Buildup… Near the Secondary Entrance in the waste tunnels. Heard from Delisle you were gonna head down that way anyways to unload a shipment of rations--any chance you could bring a mop on the way down? You’re the best, buddy!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4708092
You continue scrolling and are suddenly accosted by a sea of ALL-CAPS LETTERS! You know what that means...

"Oh boy." Art mutters.
--------------------------------------------------------------
>From: KBlumenkrantz
>To: Security Staff
>Subject: OPERATION DUCK AND COVER STATUS
ATTENTION SECURITY PERSONNEL. THIS IS SECURITY CHIEF BLUMENKRANTZ. THERE IS A BUG WITH MY KEYBOARD AND THE WORDS WON’T STOP BEING BIG SO JUST HANDLE IT FOR CHRISSAKES.

DUE TO THE GROWING MAGNITUDE OF THE BONEY SHITSHOW TOPSIDE WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE GO-AHEAD TO PROLONG OPERATION DUCK AND COVER. COMPANY PERSONNEL ARE EXPECTED TO REMAIN IN LOCKDOWN UNTIL THE SITUATION HAS DRASTICALLY IMPROVED. AWAY TEAMS ARE TO CONTINUE THEIR RECON OF CLEARWATER UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE--SQUAD LEADERS WILL BE BRIEFED ON OUTSTANDING MISSIONS.

WE HAVE BEEN GETTING A CONSTANT BARRAGE OF DUMBSHIT QUESTIONS SO I WILL ANSWER THEM BELOW. CHRISTY PLEASE PUT THE LIST BELOW.

DUMBSHIT QUESTION 1: What do we do with human survivors? THEY ARE TO BE TAKEN TO THE NEAREST SHELTER AND PROCESSED. PRIORITY WILL BE GIVEN TO GOOD BOY PERSONNEL AND SHAREHOLDERS, BUT ALL SURVIVORS WILL BE GIVEN SHELTER UNTIL TOLD OTHERWISE.

DUMBSHIT QUESTION 2: A refugee wants to take part in the recon effort. Is this acceptable? THOSE FUCKHEADS CAN GO ON THEIR OWN WITH THEIR OWN EQUIPMENT AND WAIVE ALL RIGHTS UPON LEAVING THE SHELTER. ANY REFUGEE ASKING FOR ARMOR, FOOD, OR ARMAMENTS IS TO BE LAUGHED AT. POINT AT THEM TOO.

DUMBSHIT QUESTION 3: A guy in the shelter told me that he’s a cop and I should give him supplies. WELL THEN MAYBE THEY SHOULD HAVE PREPARED A FUCKING BUNKER BEFORE THIS WHOLE SHITFEST HAPPENED. POLICE, NATIONAL GUARD, AND CITY WORKERS KNOW THAT THEY’RE ALIVE ON OUR DIME, SO DO THEIR BOSSES. REMIND THEM OF THIS AND ALSO THE FACT THAT WE CAN JUST AS EASILY KICK THEM OFF OF COMPANY PROPERTY.

DUMBSHIT QUESTION 4: Do we really have to check everyone for bones? DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KEEP YOUR SKIN? EVERY EMPLOYEE WHO ASKED THIS QUESTION IS FLAGGED--A SECURITY TEAM WILL BE MEETING YOU SOON TO DISCUSS YOUR OUT OF THE BOX THINKING. THE ENEMY HAS BEEN POKING AT SECURITY POINTS FOR HOURS--INFILTRATION IS ALMOST GUARANTEED. FOLLOW ORDERS OR BE LIQUIDATED.

DUMBSHIT QUESTION 5: Why do we have to hunt down some freakish janitor? THESE PEOPLE HAVE BEEN FLAGGED TOO. I DON’T WANT TO WASTE MY TYPING MUSCLES TALKING ABOUT THAT FREAK OF NATURE. FOLLOW ORDERS.

CHRISTY PUT AN AMERICAN FLAG AT THE BOTTOM HERE.


>CONTD.
>>
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>>4708094
>From: HDenton
>To: GBDB Staff
>Subject: Clarifications from Payroll
Due to the recent circumstances Payroll is unable to award overtime pay to Good Boy Employees. On the bright side, employees who were lost in the disaster along with their dependents will have their pensions contributed to this year’s Christmas Party fund. Don’t forget to clock out at the end of the day!

Looks like that’s all of them. You let out a disappointed sigh as you look up from the mail client--it’s just not the same!

“Still…” muses the doll in your pocket, “There’s quite a bit of information hidden in that mail…”

You guess. Doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t as exciting reading them all.

“So what’s next?” Art shrugs as you ponder your next move.
>Check the CAMERAS
>Put in a COMMAND (WRITE-IN)
>Check the BACK ENTRANCE
>Head back to the HALLWAY
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4708096
>Put in a COMMAND (WRITE-IN)
>search "Janitor"
Lets see if theres any info on us.
>>
>>4708119
+1

also let's try "Underworld". Maybe that sticky note had to do with a command?
>>
>>4708130
>>4708119
>>4708096
+1
>>
>>4708130
Wait sorry for posting again but also let's throw a 'help' in. That did wonders for us in thread 1!
>>
>>4708294
You're on thin ice, pal--no one, and I mean NO ONE double posts in BONES QUEST.

Nah you cool.

>>4708119
>>4708130
>>4708260
Writing: JANITOR, UNDERWORLD, HELP
>>
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As per usual when near someone else’s work computer, you find yourself gravitating for some reason or other to the COMMAND LINE fully aware that you’ve never taken a programming class in your life. You feel your fingers glide across the keyboard as Art, Syb, and Ly watch over your shoulder silently.

First thing’s first--you’ve gotta find out what info they have on you. Sticking your tongue out of the side of your mouth in concentration, you fire away at the keyboard and spell out the word JANITOR.

The system stutters for a moment, then opens up some sort of document! That’s not what you wanted, you growl, smacking the monitor with your pimp hand! CAPRICIOUS MACHINE!

“Not so fast, Stan! Look!” Sybil remarks, pointing at the screen again! As you stop to actually read the document, things start to make more sense!

“Looks like the briefing that was sent out on you…” Art murmurs, reading over your shoulder. “This one looks… Newer.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4708421
RE: Stanley Parble--Description: Green eyes, early 20’s, short brown hair, petite build, snaggletooth. May be wearing company coveralls or black hoodie, jeans, and company hat. Extra details: Unhinged, volatile, stubborn, detached from reality, looks like some sort of failed racoon/human hybridization experiment.

Suspect is wanted alive for questioning, but Command recommends at least breaking legs to prevent escape. She is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous--potentially working as an agent and instigator of the Reanimate Outbreak. Suspect has been witnessed cavorting with Reanimates, destroying and stealing company property and was last seen fleeing company property shortly after the disaster began. Proceed with EXTREME CAUTION.

OP LOGS:
-Parble residence searched, parents Oscar and Marina unavailable to take into custody.
-Apartment searched, operatives report no sign of suspect. Personal effects searched, found large amounts of questionable material on computer, but otherwise nothing incriminating. Operatives report seeing a large man watching from another apartment unit, but when approached it was found to be deserted.
-Apartment of close associate Sybil Castellanos searched--signs of recent activity found, but no sign of suspect.
-Fellow Evening Sanitation Coordinator Ponderosa interviewed--no new information obtained. Ponderosa asked to say on the record that ‘there’s no way she coulda’ done it, man’.
-No other close relationships to speak of, romantic or otherwise. Other coworkers, especially on the security team, describe suspect as ‘freaky, violently outspoken, and fits the profile of an Reanimate Agent.’ One individual described subject as ‘shortstack’, said individual is flagged for workplace conduct review.
-Roller APC team engaged in combat with suspect who disabled their vehicle with a jerry-rigged explosive.
-Suspect appears to be protected by an exceptionally-powerful Reanimate--apprehend with extreme caution, follow suppression protocol E.
-History of frequent workplace conduct meetings, improper use of work materials, and general unpleasantness. Medical record implies impulse control problems.
-May be working with others including Sybil Castellanos (known occult aficionado) and Officer Arthur Berry (captured and seduced)


SEDUCED?!!” You and Art both shout simultaneously!

“Well, at the very least we have an idea of what they know so far.” Sybil sighs. “A shame they don’t know the truth.”

Yea, what the heck? You waste two lieutenants and they pair you up with ART?!

“Tell me about it.” Art adds, “Looks like they’ve been keeping tabs.”

Closing the document, you briefly contemplate the possibility that you’re being watched right now…

“Sorry, I’ll back up a bit.” Art mutters.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4708426
As your paranoia grows, you push it aside for the time being and try another command, this one from the note stuck to the other desk--the word UNDERWORLD. A few clacks at the keyboard later, you feel the system lag once more, then grin as a pop-up appears on the screen! Hey, two for two!

“Let’s buy lottery tickets later!” Ly suggests!

“What do you suppose that means?” Sybil asks, pointing at the pop-up. Taking a closer look you see the words “UNLOCK ELEVATOR?” in sterile black font above a pair of buttons: one marked YES, the other labelled NO. Shrugging, you click YES and wait for something to happen, but nothing does. Ripoff!

“Maybe the elevator holds the answer…” Sybil muses. Guess you’ll have to find out soon, huh?

Satisfied with your TWO SUCCESSFUL PROMPTS, you go for the hat trick and type in HELP! A sequence of commands appears in the command application--the question is, what do you try first!?

>CAMERAS
>ALARM
>ELEVATOR
>USAGE LOGS
>FORMAT
>BIRTHDAY
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4708427
>BIRTHDAY
>Flashbacks of burning streamers and alarms
>>
Gonna keep this one open until tomorrow--been feeling tired since I finished work today. The good news is that I might be able to fit some updates around 10-11AM PST tomorrow! Feel free to decide on what buttons to press until then!
>>
>>4708427
>USAGE LOGS
Handy stuff before meme option.
>>
>>4708427
>CAMERAS
>>
>>4708455
>>4708587
>>4708603
>BIRTHDAY, USAGE LOGS, CAMERAS

Screw it, we'll do all three. Writing!
>>
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Reading through your choices, your fingers are drawn to the letters B, I, R, T…

“You uh… You sure you wanna do dat’?” Ly asks, raising a spectral eyebrow. “You remember what happened last time?”

“What happened?” Sybil asks, intrigued.

“Nothing good.” Replies your skeleton as you finish typing in the word BIRTHDAY. You’re never gonna stop thinking about it if you don’t try, damn it! The curiosity’s gonna kill you!

“You’re right, it probably will. Don’t do it.” Ly counters, crossing his arms.

Eh, screw it. Pressing the ENTER key, you brace for streamers, flashing lights, and poorly-recorded singing, but unfortunately your expectations are subverted. In place of birthday-related revelry is a small one-slide presentation with a list of people who were born this month, presumably Good Boy Staff. Flannery, Chang, Tiedmann.... No one you know.

“EHEM.” Art coughs, not-so-subtly pointing to a name on the list. Wait a minute--ARTHUR BERRY?!!

“Yea…. I work in security, remember?” The guard mutters. Yea, but… Your statement dies in your mouth as two wires connect in your head--his BIRTHDAY’S this month?!

“It was uh…” Art mumbles, “Two days ago, actually.”
“When this all began…” Sybil realizes, her button eyes growing wide.

Oh SHIT. The security guard scratches the back of his head as an uncomfortable silence kicks in.

“It’s no big deal, really--family’s out of town and all of my buddies, well…” He trails off at the last part as reality settles in. “Anyways, I got to play that Rina game, so that kinda makes up for everything!”

No it fucking doesn’t, you hiss under your breath--if he’s gonna be marrying your best friend then he’s gonna get a fucking PRESENT, he can be sure of that!

“Stan, you don’t have to say all of your thoughts out loud.” Sybil reminds you, a perplexed look on her face.

Whatever. Ly, add a new sidequest to our memory--GET ART A BIRTHDAY PRESENT!

“I’ll talk ta’ brain and see what he can whip up.”

“I uh…” Art mutters, a hint of cheer in his voice, “Thanks?”

He’s VERY welcome! Maybe you can ask your fairy pal for some ideas!

“... Please don’t get me involved with your quasi-malevolent imaginary friend.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709192
Right, what else looked good? Scrolling up in the COMMAND PROMPT you look over the possible commands one more time.

“Maybe the USAGE LOGS could be useful?” Art asks, leaning over your shoulder. “We can see who used this terminal in the past day or so.”

Uh, spoiler alert--they were all Donut Chasers. Who cares? You ask, waving the question away with your hand annoyedly.

“It’s clear that there’s more than meets the eye with this place.” Sybil adds, “At the very least it’s more important than the BIRTHDAY LIST.”

Okay, okay, she’s getting snippy--better do what she says. Typing in the command generates a long list of usernames and timestamps:

>DLAWENDOSKI, 0630 IN
>LMARCHENKO 0230 OUT
>LMARCHENKO 1730 IN
>DLAWENDOSKI 1700 OUT
>DLAWENDOSKI 0630 IN

You let out an exaggerated yawn--yep, quite a treasure trove of intel we’re getting here! Sybil responds with an arm stub to your cheek. OW!

“Hey, look down there!” Ly exclaims, pointing to the earlier logins. Rubbing your cheek, you peer closer at the area Ly’s pointing to.

>KDIETER 0300 IN
>BPONDEROSA 0300 OUT
>BPONDEROSA 0219 IN
>AKEMMERER 0030 OUT

You feel the blood in your veins get hotter and your face muscles instinctively contort into a disgusted scowl--BORIS! You hiss, shaking your fist in the air!

“Must have been around the time this whole thing started… Didn’t see him when I checked into the station, though.” Art muses before turning to you. “You uh… You have a history with that guy? He seemed pretty nice at the Christmas Party!”

Sybil dives for your mouth, preemptively holding it shut! “You could say that, yes!” She reports, shaking her doll head in a gesture that reads ‘DROP IT’!

Realizing that she’s not going to let go until you drop it as well, you try those deep-breathing methods you learned from your School Counselor and slowly feel the red draining from your eyes. Sybil watches you for a moment before letting your lips go, then turns to Art.

“If this info is correct, there’s a chance we might meet him again soon. Unless, that is, he didn’t make it past the first day…”

We can only hope, you reply, gazing longingly skyward.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709197
Pondering just what the hell Boris was doing here that night, your mind drifts back to the other commands listed on the screen. Hey, what if that bastard was caught on CAMERA?!

“Doing what?” Art asks, idly kicking the side of the cubicle.

You know… Suspicious shit! You reply, grinding your teeth. Knowing him he was probably the one that ratted you out to Good Boy. Hell, he could be running the company now--how the hell would YOU know?!

“Even if that were the case it would benefit us in the long run if we ingratiate ourselves to him.” Sybil sighs. “I can see Good Boy becoming quite the hindrance in the long run if we don’t deal with this soon.”

You wouldn’t integrate with that S.O.B if he was the last human in the UNIVERSE. She’s right, though, you’re not exactly keen on fighting a war on both sides--that’s how Germany lost the Civil War, after all…

“Christ.” Art whispers. “Look, let’s just check the camera logs. Maybe there’s something we can use.”

A few clicks on the keyboard takes you to a folder of video recordings, some of which date back to before this all started! Picking one at random, you double click on one taken the day BEFORE everything went to shit!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“-mpster still needs to be rolled out to the curb.” Says a security guard idling next to the station reception desk.

“Just leave a note for Derek.” Replies the guard sitting at the reception desk reading a Water Polo Monthly magazine.

“That’s usin’ the old noodle!” Chuckles the other guard, drumming his gloved knuckles on the check-in desk. “Say, you give any more thought to that invitation? My buddy’s the DJ.”

“Yep. Washing my hair that night.” The receptionist responds, not looking up from her magazine.

“You uh… I thought you were doing that the other night too.”

“I was.”

“Okie dokie then… Listen, if Blumenkrantz calls tell him nothing happened--I’m not writing another one of those damn reports about NOTHING.”

The receptionist nods, prompting the other guard to shoot her a thumbs up and walk away.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709200
Fast-forwarding through the recording gives you nothing, just more magazine-reading. Closing the video with a sigh, you continue sift through the rest of the recordings.

“Weird.” Art mumbles, looking over your shoulder again. What is?

“No recordings the night of the incident.” Art explains, tapping the screen with his finger. “Doesn’t that rub you the wrong way?”

Yes, you nod, scratching your chin thoughtfully, it does. Probably that shitstain BORIS’S doing!

“Let’s try the one closest to when it happened!” Sybil interjects! Finding the video with the timestamp closest to when things started getting funky, you double click and press the play button!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The video opens to several people in suits, pajamas, and other varying forms of dress huddled in front of the elevators--you hear some conversations happening, but it’s too jumbled to make out clearly!

The discussions die down as both elevators open simultaneously revealing two pairs of Good Boy security guards. One of them raises his hand and motions for silence, then addresses the crowd in a slow, commanding tone.

“Alright, people--you will be processed FOUR at a time--two of you in each elevator.” He explains, gesturing behind him.

“The rest of you will wait here until called forward. Anyone disrupting the process is free to leave. Thanks.”

The crowd erupts in panicked chatter the minute he finishes his sentence--one man in a suit pushes towards the front of the line but is quickly stopped by a STUN BATON to the gut. As he slumps to the ground, convulsing, the guard who shocked him continues with a few solid kicks to his ribs.

“Let us be very clear,” Continues the guard from before, “You are on COMPANY PROPERTY. We reserve the right to refuse service to ANYONE.” He finishes, staring at the man twitching on the floor. Looking at the guard who administered the beating, the lead guard gestures with his head towards the front entrance. The security officer grabs the man by the collar and wades through the crowd, STUN BATON extended.

Needless to say, the rest of the video shows members of the crowd slowly being ferried into the elevators.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709201
Your analysis of the other videos follows suit--idle chatter by the guards, a group of goons or survivors coming in every now and then, but not much else! Sybil visibly deflates as you finish another video.

“It’s clear that there’s more than a mere PARKING STRUCTURE down the elevator shaft--the question is, what?”

You nod--you also noticed that despite a lot of people going IN, there doesn’t seem to be many civilians going OUT.

“Good eye.” Sybil nods. “I don’t relish diving into the belly of the beast, especially with that interference down below, but we might not have a choice…”

“Didn’t an email mention some sort of second entrance?” Art muses. “Think it was somewhere in the sewe-”

NOPE! NOT HAPPENING, you interject, white-knuckling the desk. The operative glances your way for a second, then shakes his head.

“Still… Can’t believe I missed all of this happening. Then again, I was so sleep-deprived that night that I barely registered what was going on… It was pure chaos.”

You nod--you only got a small taste from the news stream you caught on your phone, but it certainly didn’t look good. Would you be here right now if you were at home asleep when the shit hit the fan?

“Best not ta’ think about it.” Ly decides. “We’re here now, right?”

“Ly’s right, all we can do is focus on the present.” Sybil agrees. “We’ve already proven that the undead are far from invincible--hopefully we can leverage that to our advantage with your employers.”

Living in the present--that’s right. Speaking of, what’s next?

>Enter another COMMAND (WRITE-IN)
>Head for the ARMORY
>Check the BACK ENTRANCE
>Talk to MITZI AGAIN
>Investigate the ELEVATORS
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4709205
>Investigate the ELEVATORS
I don't like leaving Sybil and Ly behind, but something fucky is going on down there and we may finally get some answers
>>
>>4709217
ELEVATOR ACTION! Writing!
>>
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You feel your brow furrow as the reality of the situation sinks into your head--you don’t exactly relish diving any deeper into your employers’ dirty laundry, but the more you dig the clearer the image gets:

You’re gonna have to go for it.

Rising from the office chair with a resigned sigh, you complete your post-peeping ritual by reopening the tabs Derek had open and closing the ones he didn’t--with luck he will hardly suspect a thing!

“I’m guessing we’re hitting the elevators next, huh?” Art asks, adjusting the helmet on his head. You nod--the only way you’re going to get answers from Good Boy is diving straight into the horse’s mouth--you might not get another chance like this again.

“She’s right.” Sybil adds, her doll head flopping up and down in a nodding motion. “All signs point to wherever your employers are taking these survivors--that being said, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t unnerved by that barrier Ly pointed out…”

You and Art head for the office door, talking as you go.

“It’s not gonna vaporize us, right?” The operative asks, dodging a stout waste basket on the ground. Sybil squirms back into one of your pockets before responding: “Most likely not--it would be too much of a hassle to imbue protection charms for everyone on staff to wear. I suspect it might work against the occult, but I won’t know until we see it firsthand.”

“Whatever it is,” Ly interjects, “It’s big. Doesn’t seem like there’s a way around it.”

As you reach for the door handle, Sybil pops out of your pocket once more to address you.

“Stan. I’ve… Had some thoughts.”

Oh jeez....

>CONT.
>>
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>>4709459
She’s…. She’s still your friend, right?! The doll’s eyes widen a bit in surprise.

“Wh-wha? No, friends forever!”

Okay, cool. What’s the deal then? You ask, crossing your arms.

“Ly doesn’t have the option, so I suppose he’ll just have to hide in your body for the time being, but I wanted to hear your thoughts on what I should do.”

You blink--the magic’s certainly been helping. The doll shakes her head again, adopting a more serious look.

“I’m asking you two what I should do. Assuming that barrier is harmful, it could ‘short-out’ this doll.”

“..And we could lose all contact with you.” Art says, finishing the rest of her sentence. Sybil nods.

“I don’t have to come with you. Unlike Ly I can work autonomously or try to find a way in by myself. If necessary, well…” Sybil pauses, an unsure look on her face, “... I can also return in my physical form. My magic wouldn’t be limited by the doll!”

“Yea, but you could also take a stray bullet.” Art growls, shaking his head. “She’s got a point though--It's a lot to hope that whatever that barrier’s effect is, it’s only temporary.”

Or, you respond, she can split off from the pack for a while. Just in case. Sybil nods again.

“I won’t have any trouble tracking you down. Unless, that is, they move you to another place with a barrier. I suppose there’s issues no matter what you choose.”

What’s the plan?
>STAY with us--we’ll deal with whatever happens.
>SEPARATE, but stay in DOLL form. We can meet up later!
>SEPARATE into your PHYSICAL form--we need FULL-POWER SYB!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4709460
>SEPARATE, but stay in DOLL form. We can meet up later!

This is a tough decision. On one hand it'd be cool to have in person sybil and we'd have some firepower, but on the other she'd probably have a detectable magic aura. She did mention she went in to hiding to avoid the lich noticing her, after all.

I think she should try to look for any other info she can, maybe do some shoulder surfing and eavesdropping around the office while we head down the elevator
>>
>>4709460
>SEPARATE, but stay in DOLL form. We can meet up later!
>>
>>4709460
>SEPARATE into your PHYSICAL form--we need FULL-POWER SYB!
As long as she can go back into doll form later, we could use an unlocked Syb and Art would take a bullet for her. We just gotta make sure to scramble pretty quick since her aura is gonna light us up like a flare.
>>
>>4709654
Hmm, you make a good point- plus I really do think it'd be cool to have real Sybil around.

I'll change my vote from this >>4709469
to this >>4709654 on the condition that she can change back to her doll form and reconceal herself relatively quickly when we're done here. If it would take a lengthy ritual or a lot of time tho then I'll stay with my OG vote
>>
>>4709544
>Separate as DOLL
>>4709654
>>4709671
UNLIMITED POWEEEEEEERRRR

Writing! Glad I kept the voting window open a little longer...
>>
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You know one thing for sure--you’d rather not short out the doll if you can help it. If Syb exits it for now, can she pop back in later?

“Of course!” The doll nods, “The vessel’s not inherently magical by itself--think of it like a radio antennae--without a signal it’s rather--”

Good, because she’s gonna be taking a break from it for a while. Syb looks at you questioningly.

“You mean..?”

Yep, you do mean! Things might go south down the elevator and if they do you’re gonna need backup. A lot of it.

“Are you crazy?!” Art growls! “I mean… You clearly have issues, but… Look--the minute Sybil starts using magic here she becomes a huge BLIP on the radar!” He continues, anger growing in his voice. “With everything that happened in the last day do you SERIOUSLY think that’s anywhere near a good ide-”

“STOP.” The word comes out of the doll louder than thunder causing you and Art to stop dead in your tracks! Getting your attention, the doll calms down.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since this whole thing started. From the moment I sensed things were wrong I immediately rushed to a pocket dimension and left you two to carry the heavy load. I’ve been providing support, yes, but what if I could do more?”

The doll looks at you both with button eyes brimming with determination. “I want to help any way I can! If things become too crazy I’ll go back--they won’t even know where I disappeared to! Just trust in my abilities, if only for just a little bit!”

She speaks to both of you, but you’re pretty sure you know who she’s really talking to.

“It’s… It still seems pretty careless.” Art mutters, avoiding eye contact with the doll. “If you get unlucky-”

“If I get unlucky I die.” Sybil answers. “If you get unlucky, YOU die.” She continues, staring at Art. “If Stan dies…” She concludes, focusing on you, “Then it’s all over. We have to give 100%, even if it seems foolish.”

The security guard contemplates the doll’s words for a while, then lets out a resigned sigh.

“... You’re right. If things get hairy down there then we’re gonna need the full Syb package to bail us out.”

“Thank you.” Sybil replies, a smile growing on her face. “I won’t let you down--keep the doll for now. Whatever happens I’ll see you all soon.”

You give the doll one last headpat before it goes limp like… A doll.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709892
Gingerly stuffing the inert effigy of your best friend back into your pocket, you turn to Art. Is he uh… Cool?

“She’s right.” He replies, nodding at you. “I keep thinking she’s weak and needs protecting, but you know... She might be the strongest one out of all of us!”

You grin--she did almost vaporize him in doll form when they first met--who knows what tricks she has up her non-doll sleeves? This elicits a quiet chuckle from Art.

“That’s true… Guess we’re gonna need protecting, huh?”

“I’ve got ya’ back too!” Shouts Ly from inside of your body! As if you could forget!
“I don’t got much of a choice, so try not ta’ stay in dat’ barrier for too long, yea?”

Depends on how slow the elevator is. Speaking of...

Grasping the doorknob one more time, you turn to the operative standing next to you. Is he ready?

“As I’ll ever be. You take the lead.”

As usual. Swinging the door open, you and Art emerge from the office and make for the elevators at the center of the hallway. The receptionist spares you a passing glance as you return, then resumes her reading.

“Thought you guys left.”

“Had to check some emails!” Art responds with a shrug, “Been in the field for a while, can’t rest until those notifications are gone!”

“...I hear that.” Replies the receptionist before she resumes ignoring you. Art gives you a nod, prompting you to press the elevator button. As you wait for an inordinate amount of time, you feel a strange sensation in your gut.

“I got ya, cupcake.” Ly whispers reassuringly. “Just keep cool and go wit’ da’ flow, yea?”

Damn straight. With that the elevator doors spread open invitingly like the mouth of a flytrap--nowhere to go but down now… You and Art quietly head inside and get comfortable as the doors close behind you, prompting you to look at the buttons on the wall.

“UP twice, DOWN, then CLOSE DOOR” Art recites. “That’s what the receptionist said…”

Silently thanking Art’s memory, you plug in the cheat code. For a moment the elevator lurches like it has no idea what’s going on, but like a bouncer at a club it composes itself, then quietly descends…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4709894
Holy crap, can this go any FASTER?! You demonstrate your frustration by hopping up and down a few times, clearly pissing off Art.

“Just give it a minute--we don’t know how far down we’re going!”

As you prepare for another leap with your LEG BONE-US, a wave of nausea washes over you, causing you to stumble to the side of the elevator!

“For Chrissakes, Stan…” Art groans, staring skyward. You try to give him the finger in response, but you can barely see straight!

“Stan…” Ly hisses from inside your body, “The barrier…”

A coppery taste worms its way into your mouth as your knees buckle beneath you. Sensing that it’s not another one of your ‘Trademark Hijinx’, Art stoops to your level and holds you steady!

“Stan--stay with me, okay? It’s alright--everything’s alright!”

You try to assure him that you’re okay, but the words come out slurred and end up sounding something like “AAAarrrrM FArrrfng…”

Nailed it.

“...Staaan…” Ly whispers, his voice fainter than ever, “I’ll… I’ll still be here…

You feel Ly’s consciousness slip away bit by bit like a puzzle being done in reverse--as you feel the last few pieces being stripped away, the sensation abruptly ends!

What in the…

Feeling your strength slowly return, your recovery is interrupted by the elevator doors opening into what looks like a military bunker! At least six Good Boy operatives idle behind metal barricades, their rifles trained on the elevator! One of the guards rises from his kneeling position and approaches you slowly, greeting you with a pleasant Southern twinge in his voice.

“Hey fellas, welcome back to THE LODGE!” The posture of the other guards relaxes a bit, but they still keep their sights on you and Art.

“You both okay? Shorty looks like they just ran a triathlon.”

Rising to your feet, you nod--just a bit of elevator sickness! Happens to everyone, right? The guard nods.

“Suppose it does.” Cracking his neck, the guard steps back a few steps and leans against a barricade. “Alright pals, you know the deal--Helmets off, hands up!”

“We uh…” Art dives in, “They’re stuck! Can’t get ‘em off!”

You nod--yep! What are ya’ gonna do?

Your rhetorical question is answered by the leader of the pack unholstering a knife and sliding it your way.

“No rush--haste makes waste, right boys?” Punctuating his slogan with a good-natured chuckle, the guard gestures for one of the others to move closer.

“Hold the doors open for ‘em, will ya’, Peck?”

Uh oh. What do? You’re still kinda woozy from the BARRIER!
>Mash the DOOR CLOSE BUTTON!
>LIE! (WRITE-IN)
>CRY! It’s gotten you out of underage drinking charges before!
>Get ART to remove his FIRST
>RUN!
>COMPLY
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4709898
>CRY! It’s gotten you out of underage drinking charges before!

"It's been a long day. First that sexy and super talented janitor beat us up, then I forgot my ID in my other suit, and worst of all I have a huge zit and if anyone sees it I think I might just die!"
>>
>>4709908
>>4709898
+1
>>
>>4709908
+1
>>
>>4709908
>>4709930
>>4709954
>FAKE IT TILL YA MAKE IT!
Writin!
>>
>>4709908
>>4709930
>>4709954
Sorry for the double post, but give me a 1d100+5 roll! Your disguise gives you +10 to persuade, but these guys are suspicious...

I'll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 25 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4710127
>>
Rolled 36 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4710127
>>
Rolled 3 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4710127
Big money rolls let's GO
>>
>>4710137
>>4710213
>>4710289
>Highest Roll: 41
Gonna write this out tomorrow because I'm passing out--should have an update around 3-4PM PST! Thanks for playing and see you then!
>>
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You answer with a faint sniff--you know, just to clear your nostrils! Then another, only longer!

“You alright?”

The trap is SPRUNG.

If there’s one thing authority figures hate, it’s a CRYING GIRL. If you had a nickel for every underage drinking charge it’s gotten you out of, well…

You certainly wouldn’t be an Evening Sanitation Coordinator in Clearwater, THAT’S for sure. Your mask hides the tears running down your face, but it doesn’t matter--you’ve got this!

[I-It’s… You begin, every syllable struggling to get through your sobs, It’s been a rough daaaaay….

“Oh christ...” Moans one of the guards by the barricades.

First you were beaten up by that sexy and super-talented janitor--THEN you forgot your ID in another suit, and to make matters worse your helmet is causing you to break out in acne--if anyone catches a glimpse of your face you might just DIE!

“Sorry to hear that, little lady,” Responds the chief guard, his posture relaxing a little bit. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it.” You respond with the saddest face you can muster under your mask and a “Mhmmmm” that could melt even the coldest heart. The guard ushers you forward while another pulls out a hanky for you. In the BAG, baby!

“Now YOU,” The top dog continues, shifting his focus to Art, “Don’t seem to be having a rough day, so by my understanding I feel like you shoulda’ unmasked by now.” Art glances your way with a pleading look in his eyes, then snaps back to the guard in front of him.

“I uh… I was doing laundry an-”

Art is interrupted by the guard’s hand darting from his side and wrapping around his neck. “Let me help you with that, brother.” Art barely has time to protest before receiving a knee to the stomach! You move to intervene, but are stopped when the guard next to you holds you back!

As Art slumps to the floor gasping for air, the lead guard tears off his helmet and mask revealing a tomato-red face with orange hair struggling to breathe.

“Well, well!” Chuckles the unmasker, “Officer Arthur Berry, I presume…” Picking Art up by the scruff of his neck, the guard tosses him out of the elevator and onto the floor. “Though from what I hear you go by something else nowadays… What was that cute nickname again, Diles?”

Escape Artist.” Replies one of the guards. “Since you did such so good leavin’ that squad behind…”

“ESCAPE ARTIST. Love it!” Croons the main guard, looming over Art. “Listen kid, we know how stressful this all gets--hell, I’m downright mortified!” The guard pauses as Art regains his footing.

“I know how it is, buddy.” He continues, helping Art to his feet. “That being said…”

The guard delivers a leg sweep to Art’s hurt leg, sending him tumbling back onto the floor with a THUD.

“Deserters gotta be punished.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4711165
You lurch forward to come to Art’s defense, but the guard’s got you locked in! Struggling in his grasp, you can only watch as the guard delivers a series of kicks to your friend’s stomach, culminating with one last stomp on his bandaged leg!

Groaning through clenched teeth, Art writhes on the ground as the lead guard motions to two other Good Boy operatives.

“Take this scaredy-puss to detention--I reckon we can figure out a decent punishment for him later…”

The guards nod and pick Art off of the ground. As you watch him disappear down the tunnel, the remaining guards turn their attention to you.

“Now if you’re who I think you are,” Muses the lead guard, “Then I think I owe you twenty bucks, Mueller.” Squirming against the goon holding you back, you can only move your neck around for so long before the guard gets a grip on your helmet and yanks it off.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Squinting to block out the fluorescent lights in the tunnel, you feel a gloved hand tug on the back of your hair, craning your face upward.

“Stanley fucking Parble. Christmas has officially come early, boys.”

Releasing the grip on your hair, you open your eyes and glare at the guards. Art didn’t do shit--it was all YOU!

“Don’t worry, we’ll let them know it was all a big misunderstanding in a few hours.” Replies the leader. “As for you, little lady, well…”

The goon stoops to your level, his mask clearly hiding a smug grin.

“You’ve got a lot to answer for.”

As you prepare to deliver a wad of spit right between the guard’s eye lenses, you hear the faint buzz of electricity behind you, followed by the sting of something colliding with the back of your head.

The world goes dark before you can even hit the ground.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4711168
No dreams this time--as quickly as the lights go out they come back on, albeit slightly blurrier and more mobile than before. Your jaw hurts. Moving it from side to side rewards you with a dull pain near your cheek--Most likely one of the guards venting some frustration.

Shaking away the daze, you find yourself staring directly into a bright, white light dangling over a simple metal table bolted to the cement floor. Like the table, your chair and, by extension you are bolted to the floor, both of your arms locked in place on the armrests by several individual cuffs digging into your bare forearms.

No longer are you wearing your security uniform or the hoodie and jeans below it--in their place is a simple orange jumpsuit and a set of manacles holding your two feet together, bare save for the kitty knee-high socks you decided to wear to work.

Struggling against your bonds, you glance around the room for any sign of an interrogator. All you get for your efforts is a tinted glass window and a metal door--the former obviously one-way. As if they anticipated your revival, the door opens almost immediately allowing a security goon to saunter in.

Shutting the door behind them, the guard quietly takes a seat across from you on the other side of the table and watches you for a moment.

“... Left your ID in Alfonzo’s uniform, huh?”

Mitzi.

“Guilty. For what it’s worth I’m sorry--I volunteered to relieve you of your stuff--Thought you’d prefer a girl doing it. Got some QUESTIONS for you if you don’t mind.”

What do you say?
>ASK a QUESTION FIRST (WRITE-IN)
>AGREE, Interrogate away!
>STONEWALL. Stay quiet!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4711170
>WRITE-IN
>"Did you get your chips?"
>>
>>4711256
+1
>>
>>4711256
>>4711294
>Chip Status Update
WRITING
>>
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First thing’s first, you groan, stretching your jaw a bit, did she get her CHIPS? The guard replies by reaching into one of her rig’s pouches and removing a bag of KetCHIPS. Shaking it in your direction, you can almost make out a wry grin underneath her mask.

“Yep. Told you to ask Baker--he knows my favorite flavor.” Mitzi reclines a bit in her chair before stuffing the bag back into her pouch. “Looks like you had other things on your mind, though.”

You respond with the best shrug you can manage in your chair.

“Super. Here’s the deal: I really want to eat these,” Mitzi continues, tapping the pouch her chips are stored in, “So let’s make this quick--everything went south while you were on the clock--what are you really?”

You blink. You uh… You weren’t expecting that one.

What are you REALLY?
>Just a passing JANITOR!
>Your WORST NIGHTMARE.
>Your DREAMS COME TRUE, BABY.
>NO ONE SPECIAL…
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4711342
>WRITE-IN
>'One fucking exhausted bitch, I don't even know why you are chasing me. Does my health plan cover any of this either? I do work for Good Boy".
>>
>>4711342
>WRITE-IN
"Apparently a chosen one, but I'm just trying to do the right thing! Also you better not have taken any of my pongos- I need those!"
>>
>>4711353
>>4711358
Gonna try to pop these two together. Writing!
>>
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How do you even begin to answer that question? Guess it pays to be honest, huh? You’re an EXHAUSTED BITCH, you begin, letting your fatigue from the past few days sink into the words. Your turn to ask a question--just why the hell are they chasing you anyways?! You work for the same team, damn it--speaking of, your health care better cover all of that ‘guard frustration’! And the PONGOS! You want those too, damn it!

“Understandable. Your stuff’s all in storage until we figure out what to do with you.” The guard crosses one leg over the other and sighs.

“Here’s the thing--the first time our people ran into you, you stole a van, an operative, and left the rest of the team to get wiped out by skeletons that had, and still have, control over the factory.”

The guard extends two fingers. “Second, operatives on recon found you… Partying... With skeletons. I’m just paraphrasing from the file I read before coming in here, but it doesn’t really look good, does it?”

You frown at Mitzi, who remains undeterred in her boredom. Though now that she puts it like that, yea, it does look pretty bad! You’ve done some good shit, though, and you’ve gotta prove it!

Maybe she hasn’t heard, but you’re The Chosen One! You’re the slayer of KING, the Lord of the Beasts, and Rocky, the Greaser Guru! A “psssh” sound worms its way out through Mitzi’s mask filter.

Okay, how about TERRY THE TERRIBLE?

“Holy SHIT.” For a second you can almost see her eyes go wide behind the mask! “I mean.. That’s all hearsay. Where’s your proof?” Nope, just a mirage…

It’s… Well um. You have a cigar!

“Uh huh.” Mitzi grunts.

A-and Cliff! The new leader of the greasers--he can vouch for you too!

“... So you’ve made friends with a leader, then?” The guard asks, tapping her gloved fingers on the desk. Wait a minute, she just doesn’t get it!

“Clearly I don’t.”

Your thoughts are in freefall. Art could help you, right? No--they’d just think he’s compromised or something. Syb? Who knows…

“Also I think you’re a bit confused about that Chosen One thing.” Mitzi continues, ignoring your confusion. “I thought th-”

Mitzi pauses mid sentence, grabbing the side of her helmet.

“Yea? Kinda busy here.”

A moment passes, followed by her eye lenses somehow growing wider.

“Shit. You were supposed to tell him! I’m not even supposed to be doing this!”

Before you can say something snappy like ‘Trouble in Paradise?’, Mitzi’s already scrambling to her feet. What’s the deal?

“You… Look, just don’t piss him off, okay?”

Before you can ask who, you hear it: the sound of loud, mammoth boots stomping closer!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4711499
https://youtu.be/FyHT_Ia0Cyc

You’ve gotta hand it to her, Mitzi can move when she needs to! Scampering to the door, she takes one last look your way as she fiddles with the lock.

“Good luc-”

The door EXPLODES INWARD, sending your interrogator reeling backwards! The culprit stands suspended in place in the doorframe--a military boot the size of your leg! Retracting through the open entryway, its owner crouches through bringing with him the acrid smell of cigar smoke and high blood pressure. His hat barely fitting through the doorframe, you’re soon confronted by a veritable WALL of a man dressed in a security long coat and a matching dress cap--the front adorned with a weathered plaque with the name BLUMENKRANTZ.

Oh SHIT.

“S-sir, I-” Mitzi begins, approaching him with raised hands. Her sentence is interrupted, however, when he picks her up by the scruff of her neck and javelin-tosses her through the interrogation room window! As Mitzi crumples to the ground like a sack of old potatoes, another goon (most likely the BAD COP to Mitzi’s BORED COP), stands catatonic like a deer in the headlights!

“Don’t just STAND there…” Blumenkrantz growls through clenched teeth, “Fix the DAMN WINDOW!”

Responding with a sound usually attributed to baby goats, the guard sprints out the door in the back of the observation room, not even bothering to shut it behind him!

“MULDOON! Your ass is FLAGGED FOR REVIEW!” Roars the security behemoth as he points at the comatose form on the other side of the broken glass. “Failing to report the capture of this FREAK AND DAMAGE OF COMPANY PROPERTY?! Your ass is MINE!”

Mitzi’s unavailable for comment.

Turning his attention to you, you freeze up as you see your reflection in his mirror shades. He’s got you in his SIGHTS!

“PARBLE.” He spits, like your name was a piece of rancid meat, “You INSIPID RODENT. If this was ‘Nam I’d have taken you out behind a mud hut and put you out of your misery by now!”

Stomping over to your chair, he cranes his massive body over you like a wave about to crash.

“Naturally those FUCKUPS dragged your body past too many people, so now I can’t just put a BULLET in you and be done with it!”

Lowering his face to your level, you feel your eyes well up with tears from the cigar smoke.

“What do you have to say for yourself, you FREAK!?”

He seems to be in a good mood--that’s great! How do you explain yourself?
>I’m the VICTIM here! You guys attacked me FIRST!
>I’ve killed a bunch of SKELETONS! I’m on YOUR SIDE!
>What’s GOOD BOY'S PLAN ANYWAY?
>Nice CHICKEN in your pocket.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4711502
>I’m the VICTIM here! You guys attacked me FIRST!
>I’ve killed a bunch of SKELETONS! I’m on YOUR SIDE!

Holy fuck I love Blumenkrantz
>>
>>4711502
He seems to be in a good mood--that’s great! How do you explain yourself?
>I’m the VICTIM here! You guys attacked me FIRST!
>I’ve killed a bunch of SKELETONS! I’m on YOUR SIDE!
>>What’s GOOD BOY'S PLAN ANYWAY?
>Nice CHICKEN in your pocket.
>WRITE-IN
Fucked my formatting again. Apologies!
>>
>>4711512
VICTIM and SKELETON KILLING! WRITING!
>>
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You feel a lump forming in your throat, but you quickly swallow it--so what if it’s Blumenkrantz, right? You’ll just pick up the interrogation from where you picked off! Taking his low snarl as a cue for you to hurry up, you clear your throat a few times before saying your piece!

First of all, you’re the victim here! His goons were the ones who tried to attack you first!

The security chief leers at you like you just told him his hat looked dumb--you learned that lesson ages ago!

“You’re going to have to SPEAK UP, Parble--My hearing’s been getting worse!”

Really? Dude seems timeless--like fax machines. Or sin.
“Either that or I heard something so insanely STUPID that my superior brain is refusing to accept it as anything resembling the TRUTH!” Replies Blumenkrantz, stabbing you in the forehead with a meaty pointer finger!

“Let’s get one thing straight, you miserable pygmy--YOU were scheduled to work the night this SHIT TYPHOON blew into port! YOU were the one who somehow managed to escape unscathed, yet still leave plenty of FREAKS on company property to butcher my men!”

The flesh mountain somehow leans closer to you.

“Do you understand the GRAVITY of the situation, you little gremlin?! Good Boy belongs to the DEAD! Our CONSTANTINOPLE HAS FALLEN!

Okay, you would go that far, but-Whoops, he’s got your throat!

“The only interactions my men have had with you have resulted in CASUALTIES! Wasted ammo, broken hardware, and DEAD MEN, dipshit--each one worth ten of YOU!”

Well it’s not like you had a CHOICE, you counter, doing your best to speak with a definitely-crushed windpipe! Sure, the grand theft auto was bad, but there’s no way you’re BEHIND IT ALL!

Blumenkrantz narrows his bushy eyebrows. “Where’s your PROOF, freak?!”

He wants proof? You’ll give him proof!

Oh god, you don’t have any proof

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4711684
It takes a few more minutes of Blumenkrantz scowling at you and you putting on your best thinking face before an idea forms in your head--a small one, yes, but an idea nonetheless!

“SKELETONS!” You recite, prompting the security chief to crunch the side of the table in his hand like it was tin foil.

“Yes, I’ve HEARD of them!” He replies, teeth grinding in barely-concealed rage. “Care to explain how you AREN’T in cahoots?!”

Cahoots?! You reply in an incredulous tone, where would he get that idea? Blumenkrantz responds by whipping a radio out of his coat pocket and holding it a bit too close to his mouth.

“This is BLUMENKRANTZ. REPORT, MORON!”

You hear a sequence of quiet, panicked whispers, followed by someone fumbling with the radio on their end. “Y-yes sir! Y-you wanted a report on []APC 34C?”

Blumenkrantz responds with a low growl that puts your hair on-end.

“Right, sir! Well um… Th-the collision left it in a sorry state and the struts are a--”

“Is it OPERATIONAL?”

“Well.. N-no. No it is not.”

The chief stuffs the radio back into his pocket. “That machine was worth more than TWELVE of you, Parble--organs and all. I CHECKED. Your little joyride just cost you twelve FREAKISH MOP JOCKEYS. Was your little joyride WORTH IT?!”

You might have gone a little overboard, yea, but here’s the thing--you’ve already killed TWO boss skeletons! One at the factory and the greaser boss!

“...PROVE it.” He repeats, waiting for you to pull out a merit badge or something. You would show him their remains, but they all burned away!

“How convenient. Maybe I’ll burn YOU away after all this. We incinerate our garbage down here!”

Okay, this is getting nowhere and you’re almost certain he’s gonna punch you soon. How do you prove you’re not in league with Tim?! Didn’t he read the ARCHIVE?! Where’s your damn inventory when you need it?

>Show him some BONE POWERS! Maybe that will work!
>Tell him to CROSS REFERENCE your tale with ART’s!
>Have him GET a SKELETON BONE! You can SLURP it!
>My INVENTORY! (WRITE-IN ITEM) Will clear my name!
>CRY! It’ll work this time, you’re sure of it!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4711685
>WRITE-IN
Give him the whole story. Everything that's happened.

He and everyone else thinks we're idiots, right? We wouldn't be smart enough to make up such an elaborate tale that checks out with any info they would have- and every medical document about our mental situation would back that up. Just straight up give him every detail from start to finish
>>
Seems like this might be a big decision and I'm getting a bit tired, so I'll keep this one going until tomorrow. I might be able to do a quick update around 9-10am PST, otherwise I'll whip something up around the usual 3-4pm PST! Thanks again for playing and I hope you come on back for the next one!
>>
>>4711685
>My INVENTORY! (WRITE-IN ITEM) Will clear my name!
Our ABS still has bone dust on it from our epic battles.
>>
>>4711685
>WRITE-IN
I’ve conquered ONE tribe of skeletons, the rest still want me dead!
>>
But also show him the ABS. I forgot to add that.
>>
>>4711703
+1
>>
>>4711703
>Tell him to CROSS REFERENCE your tale with ART’s!
>>
>>4711703
>>4712491
>The whole damn story

>>4711805
>>4712104
>Flex your ABS

>>4712721
>Art to Art Talk

Looks like I'll blend TELL THE TALE and ABS. Writing!

Happy FRIDAY, by the way!
>>
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pic related
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>>4712853
>You owe me a new keyboard--mine's saturated with spit-out tea right now

It’s clear that talking to Blumenkrantz isn’t gonna change much--he’s got a counterpoint for EVERYTHING!

Wait… No. You just don’t have any concrete evidence. Chances are he’d say the same thing about Art, too. You’ve gotta change tack, but how? How can you convince this maniac that you really DID slice up King, Rocky, and those other skeletons!?

“...Refer to me as anything but SIR when you self-narrate again and you’ll be narrating from a BODY CAST.” Growls Blumenk-errr, SIR! Wait, that’s IT!

You’ve got some evidence, alright--a whole tool full! Your sudden burst of confidence prompts Blumenkrantz to raise a mammoth eyebrow.

“What the hell are you blabbering about now, MUTANT?” Why only the thing that’s gonna prove EVERYTHING--you see, when you were battling King, the skeleton running the factory, you defeated him with your ABS!

“...Unlikely.” Blumenkrantz growls, glancing at your stomach. Okay, you could stand to do a few more crunches, bu-HEY! You meant an A.B.S! The tool!” THAT gets the security chief’s attention!

“You’re telling me you stole a piece of dangerous and expensive hardware for a fight?!”

Well really it was all King’s idea, you deflect, waving the cigar smoke away from your face. In any case, you still have it in your inventory--if he checks it there should be some BONE DUST still on it from King AND Rocky! Honest! Magic stuff!

Your interrogator stares at you for a second, most likely deciding on whether or not to twist your head off.

“...Let me get the details straight,” Blumenkrantz begins, “You’re asking me to march down to the evidence locker, root through the goddamn MOUNTAIN of CONTRABAND and MORON PARAPHERNALIA you had on you, miraculously find a piece of STOLEN WORK EQUIPMENT, then look at it through a magnifying glass like SNOOPS-FUCKING-MCCALLISTER in the hopes that a tool designed to CARVE BONES has BONE DUST on it? MAGICAL dust?!?”

You consider his explanation of the situation for a moment, then slowly nod.

Yes.

“.... I’m going to relish and ENJOY breaking one of your bones for every MINUTE of my precious time you waste, you miserable MARMOT.”

The chief sends one more snarl your way before fishing the radio out of his pocket. “This is BLUMENKRANTZ. Run an analysis on any AUTOMATED BONE SHAPERS in Public IDIOT #1’s possession--NOW!

“Y-Yes sir!” Replies a shaky voice on the other end! Stuffing the radio back into his coat, the living statue turns back to you before blowing some cigar smoke in your face.

“... And now we wait.”

So THIS is what people on Death Row feel like!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4713007
So, you begin, What now?

“Now,” Blumenkrantz growls, “You tell me everything. From the beginning to now!”

Yow. Cracking your neck, you take a deep breath and start from the beginning. You don’t really know the specifics, but from what you’ve heard you know that your parents were pretty tipsy one night after a visit to the Comedy Kitchen downtown. You’d like to think they were planning on using a condom, but sometimes miracles come in strange packages! Anyways, you were bo-

Whoops, hard to speak when your throat’s being crushed! Quite a grip ole’ B’s got.

“From the start of the INCIDENT, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS!” Releasing his death grip, you take a few moments to regain your voice as Blumenkrantz whips out his radio again.

“CHRISTY. THIS IS BLUMENKRANTZ! I need a cup of HOT WATER WITH LEMON delivered to INTERROGATION ROOM C IMMEDIATELY!”

A pause.

“And if it’s anywhere CLOSE to ten degrees above room temperature, I’ll be enjoying a cup of your BLOOD. CHOP-CHOP!”

Stuffing the radio back into his coat, he gestures for you to continue with his cigar. “One bone per minute of wasted time, Parble!”

And so you begin where it all started--that fateful graveyard shift where Tim came to life and began his grim mission. Naturally you leave out the parts about snooping on the security terminal and Parkouring, but everything else stays in! To his credit Blumenkrantz doesn’t interrupt you once--hopefully that means he’s believing it!

You’re about halfway through the first thread when a knock at the kicked-in door rouses you from your harrowing tale. Raising a meaty finger to silence you, the security chief cranes his neck towards the door.

“BRING IT IN!” Through the doorway comes a younger woman with tomato-red hair in a ponytail wearing dress pants, a white collared shirt, and a thin black tie. Large, oval glasses obscure her eyes as she silently walks into the room and places a steaming cup on the side of the interrogation table.

“That’ll be all!” The chief continues, snatching the cup in one of his mammoth hands. The girl leaves as quietly as she arrived, but not before shooting you a curious glance.
Huh.

“Keep talking, Parble!”

HOLD UP a sec, you reply, prompting a somehow meaner look from Blumenkrantz than usual!

“What now, FREAK?!”

>Never mind, I’ll CONTINUE.
>Who the hell was THAT?
>Can I get a DRINK too?
>Is MITZI gonna be okay?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4713010
>Who the hell was THAT?
>>
Gonna be a bit busy for the rest of the night, but I might write an update later in the evening! Otherwise I'll probably whip something up around 9-10am PST tomorrow! Happy Weekend!
>>
>>4713010
>WRITE-IN: Why is there a prompt to be curious about this obviously background character?
>>
>>4713010
>Who the hell was THAT?
Oh god, TallyHo gonna kool-aid man in on this situation at the worst goddamn time.
>>
>>4713040
>>4713481
>Who the hell was that?

>>4713473
Get META

Writing!
>>
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You raise an inquisitive eyebrow in the direction of the decimated door frame. Who was THAT just now?

That,” Blumenkrantz explains, “Is someone actually doing their job.” Taking a small sip of the steaming beverage on the table, he nods in satisfaction. “You could learn a thing or two!”

Guess you italicized the wrong word up there. WHO is that?

CHRISSY.” The chief responds, “My ASSISTANT. I don’t have enough time in a day to play FUCKUP WRANGLER--some of us have actual work to do, Parble!”

Huh. You saw her name mentioned in other people’s emails, but never actually saw her before! Very ‘side-character’ of her.

“What was that about OTHER PEOPLE’S EMAILS?” Blumenkrantz growls, tiny cracks spidering in his glass as he grips it tighter. You uh… You think she was tagged in a company email, that’s all!

“She’s ALSO the poor soul who has to handle all of my duties while I listen to your TARD RAMBLINGS, so quit getting distracted and FINISH!”

Huh. You almost assumed he was enjoying the break with that drink and all.

“...One bone per MINUTE, PARBLE.”

Right! Where were you--thread 2?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4713916
Aside from a few editorial adjustments (like the part where you almost blew up the factory and all of the blatant filler), you tell Blumenkrantz EVERYTHING. Meeting Ly, Battling King and Rocky, your Astral jaunt to Tim’s fortress, even your unlikely partnership with the Trio and your subsequent escape from your High School!

And then you said “... One bone per MINUTE, PARBLE,” and here we are! The chief takes a moment to digest the five threads-worth of info you just dumped on him before clearing his throat, clearly about to give some notes.

“... I see. It all makes sense.”

W-really?

“NO!” Screams Blumenkrantz, slamming the table with his meaty fist, “I expected something PROFOUNDLY IDIOTIC from you, but that story? It broke new IDIOT ground!”

Okay, you can’t help but feel a little hurt after that. He’s gotta admit that your impersonations of the characters were spot-on, though!

“... I don’t GROWL that much.” Growls Blumenkrantz. “In short, Parble, I don’t believe it at all. In fact, that story made me trust you even less from how impressively STUPID it was. I’d wager that anyone who reads that story of yours has gotten STUPIDER by association!”

Wait, wha?

“I said HEARS.” Snaps the chief, chugging the rest of his lemon water. “You know what that means, right?” He asks, the side of his mouth curling into… Oh god, is he GRINNING?!

This is the part where he lets you go, right?

“HA!” Blumenkrantz barks! “NOW we check in with those idiots working on your ABS. THEN when we find no evidence on them I’ll come up with a suitable way to rid the world of your pathetic existence. How does THAT sound?”

You lean back as Blumenkrantz leans in. Not groovy, that’s for damn sure!

“Believe me, it’s about to get a lot less groovy.” Reassures Blumenkrantz, retrieving the radio from his pocket. “Skeleton Sleeper Agents tend to have a bad time around here.”

Bringing the radio up to his mouth, the chief barks his usual greeting. “THIS IS BLUMENKRANTZ. Do you want ME to come up there and check the damn ABS for you?!”

You overhear metal and papers falling over followed by hushed cursing. “Uh, sir! Was just about to contact you! We’ve just finished analyzing the ABS-”

ENGLISH, PLEASE!” Roars Blumenkrantz, shaking his head annoyedly.

“R-right! Well we checked it out and while there was bone dust, we didn’t really find anything out of the ordinary…”

The chief doesn’t even let him finish. Stuffing the radio back into his pocket, Blumenkrantz leers at you like a child eyeing a pinata. Oh crap.

“Bad news, Parble,” He hisses, taking a puff from his cigar, “Looks like you’re all out of lifelines.”

Oh jeez...

>CONT.
>>
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>>4713920
The sound of Blumenkrantz cracking his knuckles reverberates throughout the interrogation room as you struggle to break free of your bonds--almost….THERE!

Wait, nope, still stuck. Worth a shot.

“As your JUDGE, JURY, EXECUTIONER, AND the closest thing to LEGAL COUNSEL you’re going to get, Parble,” The chief snarls, “I’m contractually obligated to tell you that your case? It’s not looking GOOD.”

Well… Neither is he! Blumenkrantz responds to your insult with a puzzled look--might as well go out on your terms, right? Reaching for your eyes with a massive gloved hand, Blumenkrantz pauses as a muffled voice emanates from his pocket. Growling, he reaches in and fishes it out!

“WHAT??!”

“Oh gosh! Uh.. Sir--we’ve hit a breakthrough!” Explains the voice from before. “We applied some of the arcane methods suggested by Blacquiere’s people and… Well you’re not going to believe it--we’ve got a HIT! There’s bone dust intermingled with the res--”

ENGLISH!” Growls the chief, his grip on the radio tightening as a vein visibly throbs on his forehead.

“The dust on the ABS has magical properties, sir--more so than the average Reanimate! I’ve already forwarded info to the director, but I thought you--”

The radio explodes into a mass of plastic and parts as Blumenkrantz’ hand crushes it!

“Oh… Oh you...” He mumbles, pointing a finger at you menacingly. Reaching into another pocket he pulls out a second radio and growls.

“Erm, as I was saying, sir, I relayed the info to the director!” Explains the voice on the other line. “Also Dr. Devon wanted to take some samples from Parble, assuming she’s not…?”

“THAT’LL BE ALL FOR NOW! GET BACK TO WORK!” Preparing to chuck the radio at the wall, the chief is interrupted when another unfamiliar voice tunes in!

“Chief Blumenkrantz, Sir? This admin--the director wants to speak to Parble.”

You never knew one person could have so many veins in their face, but Blumenkrantz is full of surprises. “...Understood. WHEN?”

“There’ll be an announcement over the intercom for ‘CATERING’,” replies the voice. “The director’s busy at the moment, but they requested an end to any… Let’s see,” The voice pauses to root through some papers, “Ah yes, interrogation measures for now. Parble’s also to be given back her belongings, except for the firearms. She can pick them up later.”

“...Understood.” Blumenkrantz replies, his older face adopting a hue more suited on a tomato.

“Great! The director appreciates your work, Chief Blumenkrantz!” With that the radio goes silent, leaving you, Blumenkrantz, and a still-comatose Mitzi alone in the interrogation rooms.

What do you say?
>SORRY about all of the trouble!
>HA HA, you don’t get to KILL ME ANYMORE!
>WHAT do you think the DIRECTOR wants?
>YOU gonna FREE ME or WHAT?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4713922
>YOU gonna FREE ME or WHAT?
>WRITE IN
"Where's ART? Is he okay?"
>>
>>4713948
+1 to this, but I am a little afraid for arts fate currently. Maybe mention that we shot him in the leg.
>>
>>4713948
>>4713985
>Art Check-In
Writing!
>>
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Resisting the urge to gloat, you narrow your eyes in the direction of Blumenkrantz who currently resembles a kettle left on the stove for a bit too long. First thing’s first: where the hell is ART?

“Your little boyfriend...” Hisses the chief through clenched teeth, “Is in the infirmary. Turns out the bastard had an untreated GUNSHOT WOUND in his leg, so now they have to waste supplies fixing his stupid ass up!”

Hey, he played an integral part in Operation: Bone Breaker--he deserves some respect! Also eww, you’re not even into him! Right?

In any case, that’s a good first stop! You wait there for a few moments, looking at Blumenkrantz’ simmering form. Is he gonna FREE you or WHA-

You feel a weightless sensation as the chief tears your chair out of the ground and hocks you like a caber through the broken interrogation room window! Crashing into the wall, you feel your bindings loosen--oh nevermind, they just broke open on impact. You massage your wrists a bit as blood begins to flow back into them, scooting a few feet away from the still-comatose Mitzi. Is she gonna be cool?

“You’re off the hook THIS time, FREAK!” Blumenkrantz growls as he blows a plume of cigar smoke your way, “But give me a reason--ONE reason--and I’ll end you myself!”

Yea, yea, he can take it up with his BOSS, you reply, waving his threat away. With one last bestial roar the security chief smashes both fists through the interrogation table, splitting it down the middle like a wishbone!

ONE REASON!” He spits, pointing a finger your way! With that the monster of a man stomps out of the room, slamming the remains of the door behind him! Wiping the residual sweat from your brow, you turn your attention to Mitzi’s prone form.

Uh… Is this gonna be an issue?

What do?
>POKE her.
>Just LEAVE. She probably sold you out!
>SAY something (WRITE-IN)
>LOOT the CORPSE!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4714036
>POKE her.
always poke bodies
>>
>>4714036
>WRITE-IN
Clearly we need to give her CPR, just like the movies!
>>
>>4714056
>>4714058
Guess we're gonna do 'em both! Writing!
>>
>>4714036
>SAY something (WRITE-IN)
This is divine punishment for your bad taste in chips.
>>
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>>4714165
>This will go in too, don't fret!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Rising to your still shaky legs, you take a moment to stretch after being stuck to a chair for the past…

Well, who knows how long. You groan as the stiffness leaves your body--this must be how Ly felt before he could float around all willy-nilly! The thought gives you pause--you hope he’s alright.

Ignoring your twitching hands and legs, you stagger over to Mitzi’s body still covered in glass. This, you whisper, is your divine punishment for your bad taste in chips! She doesn’t respond, but that’s alright--you have a sneaking feeling that she would’ve just said something snarky. Still--you can’t just leave her, right? It’s not like Blumenkrantz called for a medevac or something!

You poke at her side a few times with your toe--no answer. If this was a horror game she wouldn’t be DEAD dead until blood pooled around her. You venture another poke--nope, no blood!

Resting your hands on your hips, you let out a bemused ‘hmm’. Anxiety begins to settle in--what if she’s actually NOT okay? Is she breathing?! You can’t really tell when she’s on her stomach! Nodding with resolve, you grip her shoulder and flip her onto her back--despite the rough landing her mask is surprisingly intact! Not bad, Good Boy!

Watching her chest for any rising or falling, you come up blank--the body armor and other crap in the way makes it practically impossible! A grim thought reaches you as you debate what to do--what if this is it? What if you’re letting some random person die and you don’t even know it?! This is like that train problem they always talk about--who do you run over?! You were never good at that math crap!

No, you’re not going to leave it up to some philanthropic problem in a book--Mitzi could be dying and she didn’t even eat her CHIPS! Not on YOUR watch! You’ve had plenty of medical experience--fixing Art’s leg, going to the hospital, playing that Hospital VN… You can do this! Rolling up what little sleeve your prisoner jumpsuit has and cracking your knuckles, your brain cells begin gathering every bit of knowledge they have on COPD!

..Wait, CPR! That one!

>Roll 1d100 to help Stan save a life! Don’t forget to include any COOL CPR TIPS YOU HAVE to help her! I’ll take the BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>4714203
>pump her chest to the beat of 'Staying Alive
>tilt her head upwards

Don't die, Mitzi! There are still so many chips to be eaten
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>4714203
>>
>>4714251
>>4714297
>Highest Roll: 91
Writing!
>>
Stooping down next to her body, you check in with your brain regarding CPR knowledge, which is admittedly slim pickings. Maybe it was in some mandatory job training you forgot or maybe it was in a show you drunk-binged, but you’re pretty sure CPR involves tilting their head UPWARDS and pumping their chest to the hit 70’s bop “Bein’ Awake”--the one your parents used to blast every time you overslept, weekends included.

What else? You don’t have to KISS people, right? No thank you! You’re pretty sure you can leave her helmet on, too--that’ll probably save her from bacteria or something. Satisfied with your knowledge, you gently place your hands above Mitzi’s chest and-

“MISS ME, CUPCAKE?!” howls a familiar voice right as your hands press down on Mitzi! With a startled yelp you fall FULL-FORCE onto the guard as Ly covers his mouth in surprise!

“Stan, da’ hell are ya doin wit’ those HANDS?!”

“Wh-FUCK!” Mitzi emerges back into the land of the living as you accidentally elbow-drop her stomach! As she lies wheezing and writhing on the ground, you frantically shift your attention between her and Ly! What the HELL? Is THIS the power of CPR??

“I felt a little out of it when we passed through da’ barrier,” Ly explains, observing the guard rolling on the ground. “Been savin’ my strength for a while, but I think I’m good! What’s uh…” Ly shifts tone, pointing at Mitzi, “What’s her deal? You guys gettin’ FRESH?”

NO WAY, you scream, pushing Mitzi’s body away! You were just saving her life with CPR--don’t get the wrong ideas!

“...I was just ACTING!” Wheezes Mitzi from the floor, “He… He ignores you if you play ‘knocked out’... I just fell ASLEEP!”

You blink. That’s actually a really smart tactic! As Ly does a few stretches in his Astral form, you help Mitzi back to her feet as you apologize under your breath.

“No, I think I earned it…” She groans, stretching her back. “That’s what I get for leaving you alone with The Chief…”

“All’s well dat’ ends well!” recites Ly, smiling at you and the guard!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4714497
“So,” Mitzi begins, “I guess the situation’s changed a little bit.”

She can say that again--one moment they’re preparing to execute you, the next they want you to meet the Big Cheese!

“Sonny Bruckmann Jr., huh?” Mitzi muses, adjusting her helmet. “You lucked out, kid. No one gets to see the boss without a reason, even The Chief.”

You frown--come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen your boss before! Maybe at the Christmas Party, but…

“You were too blitzed ta’ remember.” Ly states, finishing your sentence. Yep.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m sure no one else remembered your wild antics either.” Mitzi says with a shrug. “Anyways, I’m guessing you’re gonna want your stuff back?”

You take stock of your belongings--you’re no stranger to a jumpsuit, of course, but PRISONER ORANGE just isn’t your look!

“... Cute socks, though.”

Wha?

“Huh?” Mitzi responds, looking around the abandoned room. “Anyways, I can show you around if you want--The Lodge is basically a rat maze with armed guards.”

“This broad’s right, cupcake--place is HUGE!” Ly whispers. Wait a minute--why is she so eager to help you right now? You ask, hands on your hips. Less than an hour ago she was ready to put you away for life! The guard shrugs.

“Eh. If I’m giving you the tour I don’t have to do my normal job. Plus the others won’t hassle you as much if I’m your chaperone.”

Your mind flashes back to your encounter outside the elevator. Yep, real charmers they’ve got around here!

“Don’t I know it…” Mitzi grumbles, pulling a PDA out of one of her pouches. Unlocking the screen and tapping a few icons, a system of green geometric shapes appear forming into what looks like some sort of map!

“...Looks kinda cruddy.” Ly remarks. Yea, even you could make something better than this!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4714499
“Right now we’re in the SECURITY HUB,” Mitzi explains, tapping at the corresponding box near the bottom of the diagram. “All of us Rent-A-Cops operate out of here--Blumenkrantz too. It’s got cells, a special armory, and the Security Database where cameras and other logistical crap goes. I won’t bore you with the details. Oh right--it’s got interrogation rooms too.” The guard gestures around the room you’ve just spent WAY TOO LONG in. “Kinda homey, isn’t it?”

Mitzi drags her finger across. “Across the way separated by a few tunnels is ADMIN. That’s where all of the suits are--the ones who made it here, anyways. You’ll be heading there to talk to the boss when they call for you.” You nod--what the heck would the boss even want with you?

“Probably has a plan for you or something sinister like that.” Mitzi answers in a dry tone. “Won’t be a face-to-face, though--apparently boss conveniently left on a business trip or something before all of this.”

Shaking her head, the guard moves her gloved finger downward. “Then we’ve got the GEOTHERMAL PLANT where all of the engineers hang out. Just stay out of there--place is dark, dangerous, and the guys running it are a little too accustomed to running around like mole men. Freaks me out.”

Wait a minute, you interrupt, pointing at the small rectangles marked SITE A & B, those are escape tunnels, right? Mitzi nods. “Yep--service tunnels to other sites. People and supplies have been ferried between them all for the last day or so--boneheads haven’t figured out where we are yet thanks to some magic crap around the whole thing.”

“Next,” She continues, a bit more excitement in her voice, “Are the COMMONS. All of the refugees have temporary sleeping quarters there, but it’s also where you can grab a bite to eat, something to drink, and even play around in the rec area.”

Sounds pretty ritzy for an apocalypse shelter.

“Pretty sure it was designed for a nuclear attack and a lot of stuff just stuck. In any case, they’ve got an arcade, I think, along with a gym, pool, and a few courts for basketball and all that. Oh!, MEDICAL is there too if you wanna see your pal.”

“Last but not least,” Concludes Mitzi, “Is the ENTRY zone. All of the non-admin staff bunk there just in case we need to wake up and get killed when the undead find us. It’s also got a lot of security, so try not to sneak out, alright?”

Letting you study it for a little longer, Mitzi taps her boot on the floor.

“So… Where to?”

>Is there a BATHROOM? (TALK TO LY IN PRIVATE)
>MED! Gotta check on ART!
>The COMMONS! Could use something to EAT!
>Hold on, I’ve got some questions for YOU! (PROMPTS TO FOLLOW IF VOTED)
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4714502
>MED! Gotta check on ART!
>>
>>4714502
>The COMMONS! Could use something to EAT!
Had a realization. If I'm remembering correctly, Sybil said she couldn't sense our parents, assuming that they were out of the bubble.

HOWEVER, we know this place is magically protected- hence why she didn't know about it before, and we know they've been ferrying people here through tunnels. I say we look for mom and dad and make sure they're okay.

If we don't find them, then
>MED! Gotta check on ART!
>>
>>4714514
Not to be a Grinch, but there was a very tiny part of a log earlier done by Good Boy Sec that said they searched Stan's parents house and didn't find 'em. I'll save you the trouble and just say that they're outta town--sorry if it was too subtle on my part! You can still check out COMMONS after!
>>4714512
>ART TIME!
WRITING!
>>
>>4714662
Not a problem, you're all good- that's my bad for forgetting/missing it. Thanks for the heads up!
>>
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To the Med Bay, you command, extending your finger in the direction you assume your destination is in!

“Aye aye, Skipper.” Sighs Mitzi, gesturing for you to follow. “We can grab your gear along the way.”

As the two of you depart the interrogation room, your mind replays the events leading up to your capture. Last time you saw Art he was in pretty bad shape--even worse, you can’t help but feel a little responsible for the thrashing he received outside of the elevator.

“Don’t forget da’ gunshot wound!” Ly reminds you, filling your chest with guilt. Oh man, they don’t have any ‘Sorry I Indirectly Shot You In The Leg And Got You Beaten Up By Your Crazy Paramilitary Coworkers’ Cards, do they?

“Pretty sure I saw’ em’ in the Gift Shop.” Muses Mitzi in between crunching on chips. “Commons Level. They’ve got some nice chocolates too.”

An apocalyptic gift shop? Good Boy thought of everything! Wait a second, you mutter, glancing in the direction of the guard, how the hell is she doing that? Mitzi turns your way, her mask still fastened over her face, yet bobbing up and down from the chewing!

“Do what?”

CHIPS! How is she eating those chips? The security guard grabs another handful of KetCHIPS from the bag in her hands and shrugs.

“Magician never reveals her secrets.” Continuing her crunching, Mitzi continues leading you through a series of narrow hallways. A few guards stop to look at you, but none of them dare to say anything. Good--your reputation precedes you!

Two right turns and a left later, you find yourself in a hub bustling with activity--Good Boy goons dart in all directions, barely paying you a second glance. It’s a good thing your guide’s carrying a bag of chips, otherwise you’d probably be following the wrong Rent-A-Cop by now!

“... Over here, kid.”

Whoops! Returning to the CORRECT Mitzi, you duck past a series of guarded doors and eventually find yourself in what appears to be some sort of… Waiting room. A lone guard idles behind a pane of bulletproof glass, the barrier barely muffling the sound of moving machines and shouting workers down the hall behind him. Seeing your chaperone approach, the guard quickly straightens his posture!

“Mitzi! Got your chips, I see.”

She shrugs. “More or less. Got some personal effects to pick up.” She continues, gesturing your way with her head. The guard behind the counter leans back a bit, clearly not expecting a SUPERSTAR such as yourself!

“Wow.” He whistles as you strike an appropriate pose, “Caught one hell of a fish, huh?” The guard taps a few keys on the terminal in front of him, then nods.

“Yep, Parble Effects. Sit tight and we’ll doggie-bag ‘em for ya.”

Oh. You get it.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4714713
Your guardian doesn’t waste any time--as the guard behind the counter disappears behind the desk, she quickly finds a chair in the room and takes a load off. As you make to join her, you watch as Ly’s Astral form pops out of your body.

“Gonna take a quick peek at what they’ve got back there!” He hisses before phasing through bulletproof glass and disappears behind the desk.

Taking a seat next to Mitzi, you cross your arms over your chest--it’ll be nice to have your old crap back again--walking around in socks in a fallout bunker just isn’t as comfy as you imagined!

A minute of model patience later, you realize this might take longer than you thought. Glancing around the room you realize that despite LOOKING like a waiting room, there’s really not much in the way of distractions--no magazines, no fish tank, not even a water cooler!

Just when you’re about to get lonely, Ly’s ghostly form swoops back through the walls and over to you!

“You would not BELIEVE what they’ve got in there, cupcake!” He reports, absolutely glowing! “Guns, armor, candy--these guys are in it for da’ long haul!”

You nod, impressed. Good to know in case things get hairy!

“Don’t worry, we’ll talk later once you’re uh…” Ly pauses to glance toward your tour guide, “Alone.”

Sounds good to you! That being said, it sure is taking a while for your stuff! What do you do in the meantime?

>WHISTLE a song
>Go for a SHORT WALK
>ASK MITZI something (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4714714
Getting a little tired, so I'll probably continue updating tomorrow around 9-10am PST. Trying to limit huge walls of text and info dumps, so apologies if there are a lot of abrupt choices--it's all a part of the PLAAAAAAN. As usual, thanks for playing and I'll hopefully see you TOMBorrow!
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>>4714714
>Go for a SHORT WALK
To the bathroom
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>>4714714
>Go for a SHORT WALK
Also toss Mitzi a quick "Thanks for not being super angry when you found out we lied to you. You're a nice gal" before we head out
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>>4714835
>>4714960
>I'm WALKIN' HEAH
Writing!
>>
Taking in all of the room’s sights in about two seconds flat, you hop out of your chair and make for the door you came in through, prompting your chaperone to look your way.

“Where you do think you’re going?” Mitzi probes. “Not gonna wait here?”

You frown--do you LOOK like a WAITER? You’re gonna use the bathroom--turns out being interrogated for who knows how long kills your bladder! Sighing, Mitzi lazily points towards the door.

“Go out, head down the hall, then take a left. Go into the one marked with the skirted stick figure.”

You respond with an exaggerated ‘PSSSSH’! You know which bathroom to use, jeez….

“Seriously though, don’t wander too much.” The goon continues, “The security hub’s not exactly open to the public.”

Good thing you’re not The Public then! With a quick ‘thanks’ under your breath, you make for the doorway, but pause in the doorframe.

Mitzi?

“...You still here?” She replies, fiddling with her PDA.

You tap your fingers idly on the doorframe for a moment, trying to choose the right words for the situation.

Thanks, you begin, for not being super pissed when we lied to you.

The guard looks up for her task, a bemused look on her masked face. “Who says I’m not?”

She’s uh… She’s a nice gal.

The guard brushes your words away with her hand. “Yea, yea… I’m a real peach. Now hurry up or I’m taking your goody bag for myself.”

Like HELL!

>CONTD.
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>>4715245
“She said LEFT, cupcake--THIS side!” Ly chastises, taking control of your right hand and waving it in your face.

“No--that’s your LEFT. Quit narratin’ wrong!”

He’s joking--there’s no way that’s your LEFT, RIGHT? Crap, now you’re just getting confused… Doubling back through the maze of corridors and hallways, you scan the walls and ceilings for anything resembling a restroom sign--isn’t this a violation of OCEAN or whatever? Not having signs up?

“So just so we’re clear,” Ly butts in, “We’re headed to da’ bathroom ta’ chat, yea? Cuz’ da’ truth is I trust these guys about as far as I can throw ‘em. In ASTRAL FORM.”

You shrug, passing a series of doors marked with four-digit numbers. The jury’s still out on a few of them, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little surprised by the huge fallout shelter Good Boy just happens to have lying around.

“Then let’s put a lid on it until we find da’ bathroom!” Hisses Ly, “They had a barrier around dis’ joint--who knows if we’ve got people listenin’ in as well!”

As you continue down the hallway, you can’t help but frown--if that’s the case, how will going to the bathroom be any different? Ly borrows your shoulders and shrugs.

“Some places are just sacred, cupcake.”

Sure. After wandering into the same broom closet seven times, you finally track down a corridor with a few marked doors at the end--one with a STICK FIGURE, the other with a SKIRTED STICK FIGURE.

Which one do you go into?
>The s

Hey, we already established this crap in Thread 1! Cut it out! Pushing open the door to the WOMEN’S RESTROOM, you find yourself standing in…

Well, a women’s restroom. Whodathunk it.

“Coast is clear!” Ly reports, after a quick swoop through the stalls! Hey, wait a minute--what if there were people in those? PERVERT!

“Wha-you…” Ly sputters, raising his hands defensively, “Look I--you-I...I respect women, okay? M-my best friend is one!”

You narrow your eyes and plant your hands on your hips. Syb, you slut, you’re even stealing SKELETONS now?!

“... I uh… I meant you, cupcake.”

Oh. Cool.

You head over to the sink and splash some water on your face--it’s starting to feel like you’re never going to get a good night’s sleep again--some COFFEE would be nice, at least!

“So,” Ly interrupts, popping back into your body, “Wanna chat?”

>NOPE, just wanted to WALK.
>WHAT happened with that BARRIER?
>WHAT’S your TAKE on GOOD BOY NOW?
>WHAT ELSE should we CHECK OUT after ART?
>WRITE-IN
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>>4715248
>WHAT’S your TAKE on GOOD BOY NOW?
>WHAT ELSE should we CHECK OUT after ART?

Also fuckin 'violation of OCEAN' made me laugh
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>>4715248
>WHAT happened with that BARRIER?
>WHAT’S your TAKE on GOOD BOY NOW?
>>
>>4715269
>>4715270
>GOOD BOY, OTHER POINTS OF INTEREST, and BARRIER!
Writing!
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Taking a seat on the edge of the sink, you cross your arms--first thing’s first: what the hell happened on the elevator? You thought you were going to pass out!

“Yea, it wasn’t too fun for me either.” Ly mutters. “Felt like I was bein’ put through a shredder or somethin--or a pasta maker!”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that--Pasta Maker?

“Hard ta’ explain, cupcake. It was like I was bein’ stretched or somethin--like I was still in you, yea? But I was also stuck above!”

You do your best to whip up an image in your head--it’s not pretty, though. Changing tack, you wonder aloud why you would be so affected--Art didn’t even cough!

“Our resident occult expert ain’t here, but my bet is dat’ you felt some of what I felt because of our… Well, bond.”

Riiight--the power of friendship, you answer, nodding sagely.

“...No. I mean because I’m your skeleton--kinda a part of you, remember?”

...You knew that, you were just testing to see if Ly did too! So wait a minute, you continue, adjusting your seat a bit, does that barrier keep other stuff out too? You haven’t been able to contact Syb yet and Tallyhall hasn’t made an appearance--maybe it’s just designed to keep magic crap out? Ly borrows your head to nod.

“Seems like da’ way ta’ go if they don’t want Tim’s cronies crashin’ da’ party. Question is, who da’ hell set da’ barrier up?”

True. Also, how? Syb’s apartment had a bunch of weird incense and papers, yea, but how do you put a barrier around an entire… Whatever this place is?

“Well whatever it is, at least we know it doesn’t get rid of me permanently!” Ly sighs. “Was pretty worried back there, Stan.”

You were too, but what choice did you have? Ly borrows your shoulders again for a shrug. “True. We oughta take care in da’ future, though--Tim’s got a few would-be-wizards under his employ too!”

You make a mental note to figure out just who whipped up the barrier--at the very least Syb would want to trade notes!

>CONT.
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>>4715428
Kicking your feet in the air from your sink perch, your mind drifts elsewhere...

“You gettin’ along wit’ your coworkers?” Ly asks, borrowing your finger to point to the large bruise on your cheek in the mirror. Examining closer you notice quite a few, some on your collarbone, some on your arms--a quick inspection below your jumpsuit confirms a few bruises around your ribs, too. How the hell aren’t you feeling this?

“...Maybe it’s dat’ power we got from Rocky?” guesses Ly. “I gotta apologize, Stan--when they zapped ya’ unconscious near da’ elevator, I tried ta’ fight back, but--”

You shake your head--he’s got nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who dragged him through a magic barrier and almost got everyone killed.

“Alright, cut it out.” Ly interjects, “You said it yourself--Good Boy has a part in all ‘dis. Da’ only way we were gonna find out what dat’ part was was by visiting dat’ station.” You feel your skeleton slump a bit. “Never woulda’ guessed this would be waitin’ for us, though.”

Massaging your bruised cheek, you nod--yea, what the HELL?! How does a dog bone company have a city-spanning fallout bunker that even the police and National Guard don’t know about? This isn’t exactly something you can hide in a warehouse or a closet!

“I’m worried more about their goal.” Ly adds. “You don’t keep somethin’ like dis’ ‘just because’. Did they anticipate Tim comin’ back?”

You sigh--hopefully your meeting with the boss will shed some light on that. Fatcats in suits love to talk…

“... And what about da’ others?” Ly questions. You’re… You’re not exactly sure. Blumenkrantz is, well... Blumenkrantz, no change there. The others, though--who knows?

“I guess it’s easy ta’ be conflicted when ya’ have people like Art.” Ly replies, nodding your head. “He turned out ta’ be pretty useful once you two got over da’ whole ‘kidnapping’ thing.”

For the last time, you were BORROWING him! They got him back!

“Sure. So what about dis’ Mitzi broad? What’s your take on her?”

What’s HIS take on her?

“This is gonna sound weird, but she seems kinda familiar.” Ly explains, taking his time with each word. “Still don’t trust her, though--don’t forget dat’ before da’ boss stepped in she was fine wit’ pinnin’ dis’ crap on you.”

Familiar, huh? You idly run your hand through your hair and frown--wouldn’t be the first time you’ve forgotten crap, apparently.

“Anyways, let’s play along for now.” Ly advises, “As long as we play by their rules, they’ve got no reason ta’ hurt us. We can change tactics once we see da’ big picture.”

Sounds good! Until then, though, he should remain in stealth mode--who knows who’s watching? You take a moment to scan the bathroom one more time, coming up empty.

>CONTD.
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>>4715432
So, you begin, your search coming up empty, where to NEXT? Once we pick up Art from MEDICAL, that is.

“Well,” Ly muses, “If I recall correctly they said there’d be a CATERING ANNOUNCEMENT when da’ boss is ready ta’ talk to ya’. Guess we’ve got some time until dat’ happens.”

Feels like the Rocky Boxing Match all over again. Can none of these assholes set a specific time?

“Execs operate on their own schedule, cupcake.” Ly sighs, “It’s da’ little guys like us dat’ gotta adjust for ‘em.”

Nice rhetoric, but he didn’t answer your question, damn it!

“Easy, cupcake. I was thinkin’ we could either check out da’ COMMONS--might be a good place ta’ gather info if there are other refugees there!”

Hey, yea--Rocky was right: there probably ARE non-Good Boy people here, aren’t there? Maybe they can shed some light on the situation!

“Maybe we can swing by dat’ gym too--Muscular System’s been on a roll lately ever since we started bein’ an action hero an’ all--”

BZZT! NEXT! You shout, shaking your head in disgust.

“There’s also Syb.” Ly adds. “I’m not too worried about her findin’ her way in, but we might wanna try ta’ track her down too.”

Not a bad set of ideas! You’ll have to try them out once you actually have shoes again.
“True. First thing’s first--gotta get our goodies back!”

Hey, yea--maybe they’re ready NOW!

>TALK to LY about (WRITE-IN)
>EXAMINE YOURSELF in the MIRROR
>DRINK some SINK WATER?
>HEAD BACK
>WRITE-IN
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>>4715435
>HEAD BACK
>>
>>4715435
>EXAMINE YOURSELF in the MIRROR
Did we really put on more muscle?
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>>4715446
>>4715467
>Quick check on THE GOODS, then OUTTIE
Writing!
>>
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You make to leave the restroom, but something Ly said gives you pause--did he say you got some MUSCLE?!

“Oh cripes, here we go…” Ly mutters as you take the time to examine yourself in the mirror a little closer! Taking stock of your looks you can confirm that yep, you’re lookin’ a little more svelte than before! Also you have a lot of bruises, wow.

“Those guys at da’ elevator were pretty peeved.” Ly adds. “Good thing you were unconscious for most of it!”

Yea, small blessings, right? Flexing a bit in front of the mirror, you nod in satisfaction. Not BAD! Gonna need some makeup for all of these wounds, though--or some BONE MARROW.

“Maybe we can get an ICE PACK or FROZEN STEAK in MEDICAL!” Ly suggests. Hey, yea--then you could presumably EAT A STEAK LATER! SCORE!

Your inspection completed, you shoot your mirror image a pair of GUN FINGAHS, then head for the door.

At least until you hear someone APPROACHING! Ly darts out, then peeks back in!

“They’re in a Security Uniform!” He hisses, “What do we do!?”

>HIDE!
>ACT BUSY!
>JUST LEAVE.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4715542
>JUST LEAVE.
We have a specific permission to visit the bathroom.
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>>4715542
>HIDE!
Either we get some good info, or have to listen to someone take a massive shit.
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>>4715565
This is a good point. +1
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>>4715561
>Just leave like a normal person

>>4715565
>>4715585
HIDE!

Let's roll 1d100 + 5 to hide--you're pretty agile and sneaky, but you also have a bright orange jumpsuit on and it's pretty close-quarters. I'll take the BEST OF 3 ROLLS--don't forget to include HOW or WHERE you hide in a friggin' BATHROOM
>>
Rolled 10 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4715603
Just go into a stall and stand on the toilet
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Rolled 20 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4715603
Quickly crawl into a vent if possible. If not, hide underneath the sink counter and lay flat on the ground.
>>
Rolled 18 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>4715603
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>4715603
if the space between the lighting fixture and ceiling is enough, can probably hide up there by clinging to the ceiling
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>>4715606
>>4715621
>>4715666
>Highest Roll: 23

>>4715667
Sorry man, gotta take the first few... Writing!
>>
https://youtu.be/ktIqo88-PlI

Panicking as you hear the sound of the guard approaching, you quickly scan your surroundings for anything worthy of a hiding place!

Spying a VENT in the wall at the end of the stalls, you make a beeline for it but pause as you realize how narrow it is--looks like these were actually made to PREVENT PEOPLE FROM CRAWLING IN THEM!

“What about da’ SINKS?!” Ly hisses! Good call! Rolling underneath the bank of SINKS, you turn your attention to the door and frown--no, you can do better than this!

You’re thinking too hard. Just stand on the TOILET in a STALL--easy-peasy! Emerging from under the sink, you scamper into a stall just as the door starts to open! Good thing you have your BONE SPEED, otherwise this would be a lot tricki-AAAAAUGH!!!

Misjudging the small hop from the ground onto the toilet seat, your foot accidentally misses its mark, plunging into the toilet proper and twisting your ankle! YOW!

You tumble backwards, smacking the stall door open with your head and falling into a toilet water-soaked heap right in front of the bathroom entrance! Good thing the Rent-A-Cop didn’t see that!

“...I saw it all.” Reports Mitzi, holding a duffel bag at her side. “Thought you’d probably want to change into your clothes here, so I brought it over.” She stops to survey the carnage you’ve wrought on the bathroom. “Well, looks like you didn’t drown, so there’s that.”

Rising to your feet, you gingerly take the duffel bag from Mitzi and thank her--you wouldn’t have tried to hide if you had KNOWN IT WAS HER, you explain, emphasizing the last bit.

“I panicked--sue me!” Ly fires back.

“...Why would you need to hide anyways? No one’s gonna arrest you for using the bathroom.” Mitzi asks, looking at you with concern.

She just doesn’t get you, man!

“Clearly I don’t.” She replies, leaning against the sink. “Paulo in the evidence lockup had a few more rags to spare in case you wanted to change your look at all. Had to take the armor, though--Alfonzo needed it back.”

Retreating into a stall, you set the duffel bag on the toilet seat and unzip it--a quick search tells you that aside from your firearms, ammo, and your ABS, everything’s here!

Even better, looks like there are some new THREADS in here too if you want ‘em!

What do?
>Change into your JANITOR COVERALLS
>Change into your GOTH HOODIE ENSEMBLE
>KEEP your PRISON JUMPSUIT ON
>Change into SOMETHING ELSE (PROMPTS TO FOLLOW)
>>
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>>4715720
Whoops, forgot the pic! Also I'm gonna be out for the remainder of the night--might be able to get another update in later tonight, otherwise I'll be able to whip one up around 9-10am PST Monday!
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>>4715720
>Change into your JANITOR COVERALLS
Return to tradition!
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>>4715720
>Change into SOMETHING ELSE
>>
>>4715720
>Change into your JANITOR COVERALLS
The janitor is the most robust of all crewmembers. I have personally fucking merc'd heavily armed people who tried stealing my janicart on more than one occasion.
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>>4715720
>Change into your GOTH HOODIE ENSEMBLE
We still haven't washed the coveralls.
>>
>>4715754
>>4716347
>JANITOR COVERALLS

>>4715774
SOMETHING ELSE

>>4716360
GOTH HOODIE

Lock the doors because this vote is CLOSED. Writing!
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Nothing’s changed--Tim’s whipped up one hell of a mess, and there’s only ONE Evening Sanitation Coordinator for the job! Good thing you’re putting in OVERTIME!

That said, your find your hands gravitating towards your JANITOR COVERALLS and RUBBER BOOTS--borrowing Syb’s rags has been nice, but you’d be lying if you didn’t miss your old work duds! You also get a whole lot more leg articulation in these jumpsuits than you did in those jeans--Syb’s clothes tend to fit a bit tight on your bod. Fishing the coveralls from the duffel bag, you frown--weren’t these DIRTY? You totally waded through a storm drain in these--how is this possible!?

“The others were starting to smell weird, so Paulo got you some fresh ones.” Mitzi explains from the other side of the stall door. “You weren’t planning on wearing DIRTY clothes, were you?”

O-of course not, you reply, adding in a ‘PPSSSSSSSHHHH’ for good measure! Replacing your prison jumpsuit for your other jumpsuit, you can’t help but feel like there’s some sort of connection to be drawn here…

“Got it on backwards, cupcake.” Ly whispers. Hey, QUIT PEEKIN’, CREEP!

“I-I’m NOT!” Stammers Mitzi. “J-just hurry up in there!”

https://youtu.be/ioE_O7Lm0I4

Shrugging it off, you flip the coveralls inside out and SUIT UP! A snap of a glove, the tightening of a belt, the pulling of a boot and a quick adjustment of your Evening Sanitation Coordinator cap later, you’re READY. Kicking open the stall door dramatically, yo-

“OOOW, FUUUUCK!” Howls your chaperone, clearly standing too close to the door.

https://youtu.be/Z_rBo-M9MgY

All bravado leaves you as you stumble forwards and somehow manage to fit seven different apologies into one sentence: “Ohmaryousosormeandidn’tcanIhelyoudon’tsorrySO”

“NNgghhh…” Groans Mitzi, clutching the side of her mask, “It’s fine--armor did its job. Just uh… Startled me. That’s all.”

In that case, check out your new DIGS, you boast, twirling for emphasis. The guard looks you up and down, then nods.

“Fresh. We gonna pick your pal up now, or what?” She asks, crumpling up the now-empty bag of KetCHIPS and tossing into the wastebasket.

>Yup, let’s MOVE.
>Got a QUESTION for you.
>SHOW her an ITEM (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4717033
Here's an UPDATED ITEM LIST, by the way!

Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:
>1 SKULL HOODIE
>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS
>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS
>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES
>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.
>1 JANITOR COVERALLS (Note:CLEAN)
>2 RUBBER BOOTS
>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.
>1 Dead (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE
>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)
>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)
>1 KEYRING with WORK, APARTMENT, and SCOOTER KEYS
>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.
>1 SUPER HELPFUL SKELETON (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)
>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)
>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)
>1 AUTOMATED BONE SHAPER (ABS) <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 BENETTI HANDGUN <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade
>1 SYBIL DOLL (She communicates through it)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 8 SHOTS) <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots) <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 3 FOR GOOD BOY, 9 FOR TRIO, 10 FOR HAULIE PAULIE)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>1 ADDRESS (Given by ART)
>1 PACK OF TISSUES
>1 MENU FOR ANDRE’S STEAKHOUSE
>1 SCOOTER KEY (GIVEN TO PAULIE)
>1 KITTY BIKE HELMET
>1 CLEARWATER MAP
>1 EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE
>3 GRENADES (1 with ART) <<CONFISCATED>>
>NEWSPAPERS AND NOTE FROM CORPSE-ART KILLER
>BOOK ON CARVING (UNREAD)
>KNIFE SHARPENER
>3 PACKS OF MYSTERY MEAT
>1 PEACH GUM WRAPPER
>1 GREASER SHOPPING LIST
>1 PONGOS POUCH (5 PONGOS)
>1 VAN KEY
>1 N4 RIFLE (4 Magazines) <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 STUN BATON <<CONFISCATED>>
>1 GOOD BOY STAMP
>>
>>4717033
>Yup, let’s MOVE.
>>
>>4717033
>Yup, let’s MOVE.
Time to hustle
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5uL2QlNF6k
>>
>>4717050
>>4717096
WRITING!
>>
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You nod--the sooner you pick Art up the better. Knowing him he probably broke his arm, burned off his fingers, and became indebted to the mob by now--the guy just can’t be left alone, ya know?

Mitzi shrugs. “Kinda. Let’s roll.”

Following her out the door, the two of you (three if you count Ly, which he insists you do), quickly return to the security hub thanks to Mitzi’s knowledge of the place. Pretty impressive that she’s already got it figured out!

“Eh, no big deal.” She responds, unphased. “Haven’t really been able to go home for the last few days, so you get used to it.”

Pushing past a group of guards, you nod--guess people have a lot of free time when they’re goofing off in a fallout bunker!

“You’re not wrong. There have been missions to search for stragglers topside, but we’ve mostly been turtling in here. Got enough trouble with all of the people clumped in one place.”

A massive corridor lined with rows of barricades and armed guards takes you away from security. Heading through more heavy-duty blast doors than you can count, you try your best not to attract too much attention from the sentries--some of whom appear to be wearing some form of robotic harness! Sensing your thoughts, Mitzi nods.

“Yep, fresh out of the oven. Those exoskeletons are supposed to help lift cargo and crap, but someone in R&D had the idea to use ‘em in combat.”

You stare in admiration at a pair of guards wearing exoskeletons--the devices allowing them to tower over you and carry firearms that seem more at-home on a tank. You let out a low whistle, causing one of them to shoot a GUN FINGAH your way. HARDCORE!

“Put it on your Christmas list--they don’t give ‘em out to everyone.” Mitzi explains, a hint of disappointment in her voice. After spending minutes walking through checkpoints, you finally arrive at what appears to be a central area--a round corridor with the middle dominated by a colossal shaft extending into darkness below. Peering over the edge you feel a wave of sweltering air rush against your face, prompting your chaperone to grab you by the shoulder and pull you back!

“You uh… You don’t want to stick your head in here.” She mutters, adjusting your cap for you. “That’s exhaust from the geothermal plant down below--basically harmless if you stay away, but too much exposure and you can forget about having kids.”

Not like you were PLANNING on it! Beckoning you onward, Mitzi takes you to a landing for several cargo elevators and ushers you onto the nearest one. Sidling next to a group of technicians riding a cart filled with ammo boxes, you wait patiently as your chaperone flicks a button on the elevator control causing the whole thing to lurch upwards.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4717349
The elevator groans under its heavy load as it slowly trundles up the side of the shaft. Peering out across the expanse you see the miniscule forms of countless other vehicles and people moving around like ants.

“Didn’t expect this, huh?” Mitzi asks, leaning on the side of the elevator next to you. You shake your head--you assumed everyone in Clearwater got de-boned!

“Not yet.” She replies, tapping her gloved fingers on the side of the lift. “Came as a surprise to all of us, really--only people who really knew about it were Blumenkrantz and some of the other suits.”

You can’t help but frown as the elevator jostles you. And what, they just happened to have this lying around for the Skeleton Apocalypse? Handy indeed! Mitzi shrugs.

“Tell me about it. From what I’ve heard this place used to be a salt mine or something back in the day--Clearwater’s got a lotta natural caves and tunnels underneath it being on the coast and all.”

News to you--The only caves you know about around here are the Wailing Caverns! Man, the fun you used to have as a kid!

“Mom used to check my pockets every time we left just in case I stole some doubloons from that fake treasure chest near the end.” Mitzi muses, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “But yea, lots of caverns, especially sunken ones.”

Woah, didn’t know Colonel Cave was showing you around! What is she, Clearwater’s resident Caveologist or something?

“Not exactly. Done a lotta SCUBA around here, though, so I guess I know a thing or two.” The guard replies, crossing her arms. “Anyways, Bruckmann Sr. bought the whole mine for a song--everyone wrote it off as paranoia, but I guess it worked out in the end.”

“She can say dat’ again!” Whispers Ly. The abrupt stop of the elevator and the opening of the safety gates cuts your conversation short. As the cart and the technicians zoom ahead through a bulkhead marked ‘MAINT.’, you’re ushered forward by Mitzi towards a smaller, albeit still wide tunnel resembling airport security, massive lines and all!

“Don’t worry,” Mitzi reassures you, “You’re with a VIP!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4717351
Ignoring the horde of bedraggled refugees idling in line like cattle, you and your guide cut over to a checkpoint on the side where several guards congregate, laughing and chattering.

“So he says, “I’ll take it, but you’re gonna have to bag it up!” One exclaims, prompting the rest to explode in raucous laughter! Their mirth dies down as you approach, especially when they see you.

“Perfect timing--trash bin’s been overflowing since yesterday.” Quips one of them, pointing to a bin stuffed to the brim with trash! Rolling your already rolled-up sleeves further, your task is interrupted by Mitzi grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back.

“Taking this one to medical--check with Blumenkrantz if you don’t believe me.”

The guards look at each other, then answer with varying degrees of ‘nah’ and ‘nope’.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Replies one of the guards. “Gotta do the helmet check, though. Freakshow can wait.” He continues, pointing your way.

With an impatient sigh, you watch as Mitzi fiddles with the straps connecting her mask to her face and pulls it down. You can’t see from behind, but you can tell the guards are satisfied.

“Still human, huh? Head on through.” Reattaching her mask, Mitzi looks your way and beckons for you to follow. Trudging past the checkpoint, you deftly dodge one of the guards’ attempts to trip you. You give him the meanest glare you can muster, prompting him to whisper back “Watch your step.” You roll your eyes as a few others shoot you some ‘Watching You’ gestures and follow your guard deeper into the tunnel marked COMMONS.

Some of the people in line watch you with harmful intent as you quickly bypass the checkpoint, but you pay them no mind. At the end of the tunnel and the bulkhead at the end sits a smaller set of heavy double doors bordered by two exo-guards wielding STUN BATONS and what you believe to be MACHINE GUNS. One of them raises a finger to the side of his helmet, then wordlessly hits a button on the wall behind him causing the doors to swing open.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4717356
You go blind for a moment as the passage opens up revealing a dizzying expanse of lights, people, sounds and walkways! Emerging into the COMMONS proper, you and Mitzi are quickly swept up in the mass of refugees moving to and fro like shoppers on Black Friday.

“THIS WAY!” Mitzi shouts, ushering you through the sea of people! Pushing forwards, you follow her up a flight of stairs to a slightly less-crowded walkway one story up. “That’s where we’re headed.” Your guard explains, pointing to the tunnel marked with a glowing red cross. Passing groups of survivors smoking, eating, and generally surviving, you can’t help but marvel a bit--guess the boneheads didn’t do such a good job after all!

“The word got out right after things went to hell.” Mitzi muses, pushing her way past a group of drunk men wearing tattered suits. “Even went to the police and guardsmen at the depot. It’s pretty crowded, but no issues with skeletons yet.”

“I don’t like how she says ‘yet’...” Whispers Ly. You shrug as you survey the bunker once more--not exactly the worst option!

A few flights of stairs and pushed civilians later, you and Mitzi reach the entrance to what you presume to be the MEDICAL WING. Dodging some paramedics pushing a stretcher, you duck the regular line in favor of another VIP checkpoint. Waving a flock of scrub-wearing personnel through, the guards motion for Mitzi to stop, but assent as she quickly pulls her mask down for them to see.

“Head on through.” Mutters the guard as the others clear your path. The tunnel culminates in another set of manned barricades, a nasty-looking turret, and a set of doors similar to the last ones you came through. Ignoring the scorch marks and bullet holes in the tunnel behind you, the three of you are bathed in sterile white light as you enter what appears to be a scaled-down version of a hospital lobby dominated by a large desk layered in bulletproof glass!

>CONTD
>>
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>>4717359
“Picking up or dropping off?” drones one of the nurses at the check-in desk as you approach. “We’re looking for…” Mitzi begins, looking your way for guidance.

Berry. Arthur Berry, you finish, prompting the nurse to tap away at the computer in front of her.

144B. Hang a right, go upstairs, he’s at the end of the hall.” Reports the nurse, not bothering to look up from the screen. “They’re finishing a few tests and then he’s all yours.”

Super, you reply, shooting her a thumb’s up. You and Mitzi sidestep a medical tech pushing a trauma cart and head for the nearby stairwell. Pausing to let a guard with one leg hobble past, you quickly climb the stairs and are rewarded with a sign telling you which way Art’s room is.

“So,” Mitzi begins as you power-walk down the hall, “How’d you meet up with this guy anyways? That whole ‘seduction’ thing got any truth to it?”

What the fuck?! You sputter, stopping dead in your tracks, No--here’s the deal: you took Art with you because… Er..

>Because you needed leverage in case GOOD BOY came after you!
>Because you didn’t want him to die back there! The factory was a meat grinder!
>Because you didn’t want to be alone in the friggin’ apocalypse!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4717361
>WRITE-IN
"I thought he'd tattle on us for stealing the car if we didn't take him with us. He ended up being super helpful though!"
>>
>>4717381
>>4717361
+1
Maybe hint at the fact this man has tentatively acquired some goth booty.
>>
>>4717381
>>4717434
WRITING!
>>
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After a moment of deep breathing, you and Mitzi continue down the hall to Art’s room and find it shut. Mitzi examines the number plate closer and nods.

“This here’s the place.”

With a nonchalant shrug you knock twice and kick the door open, startling not just Art lying in the bed, but a surprise guest as well!

“STAN!” Sybil utters, brushing the black and purple bangs away from her pale face.

“STAN!” Art mutters, wiping the sweat off of his pasty face with a nearby cloth!

“LY!” Ly shouts, happy to be a part of something again!

You can hardly believe your eyes--Art reclines in a hospital bed, his armor replaced with a set of plain pajamas, while Syb (THE REAL ONE) sits at his side on a stool wearing an oversized long sleeve GHOULFEST sweater that extends below her knees where fishnet stockings dip into a pair of knee-high GOTH BOOTS.

“Woah.” Mitzi states, next to zero surprise in her voice, “Full house.”

What do FIRST!?
>Give these JACKASSES a HUG!
>ASK how ART is FEELING
>Touch BASE with SYB
>Introduce MITZI
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4717544
We should definitely do them all, but FIRST
>Give these JACKASSES a HUG!
>>
>>4717544
>Give these JACKASSES a HUG!
>>
>>4717544
>Give these JACKASSES a HUG!
>HUG
>>
>>4717579
>>4717603
>>4717623
Damn, guess we're doin' a hug. Writing!
>>
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First thing’s first--you don’t have enough room for much of a running start, but you’ve got your EMU LEGS BONE-US and that’s MORE than enough! Launching yourself at your two pals like a freak raccoon-cannonball experiment, your momentum is broken by the two of them catching you! Ain’t it sweet?

STAN!” Sybil smiles, wrapping you in her thin, but loving embrace, “When Arthur told me what transpired, I…”

“I told those bastards that if anything happened to you I’d smear crap all over the hospital walls!” Art chuckles, patting you on the back! “Glad I don’t have to follow through!”

You sit there for a few moments in their arms, just letting yourself be held. It’s… Not a bad feeling.

“It’s okay…” Sybil whispers, drawing you closer. “We’re all here now.”

Pulling back a bit, you look your two friends in the eyes and grin like an idiot--you didn’t think about it until now, but you weren’t sure if you were gonna see them again!

“Come on,” Art laughs, “You’ve done dumber stuff than that before and survived. I knew you’d make it.”

“To think all of our efforts would have gone to waste thanks to some…” Sybil begins, but trails off. “...What did they do to you, Stan?” She asks, a dark look forming as she studies your bruises. Heh, she should see the other guy!

Your joke doesn’t elicit any laughs. Sybil releases you from her grasp as you feel pressure build around her, causing the various apparatus around the room to quiver in place. As her blue eyes start to glow with energy, you feel yourself drift onto the bed next to Art as Syb turns her attention to Mitzi standing in the doorway!

...You.” Sybil growls in a voice that isn’t her own, “Do you underS T A n D WH a T yoUr EmPl o Y ers A lmoS t D I D? ??! ?”

“Why don’t you fill me in?” Mitzi responds, not backing away from the door. “I wasn’t part of the welcoming committee, so if you’re gonna get pissy, talk to them.”

I f St A n WA s KIL L ed. … .”Sybil hisses, the lights in the room flickering as she approaches the guard. As you watch things unfold, you feel a nudge to your side. Art glances between the two girls, then mouths ‘do something’ to you.

Oh right, did you mention Syb had a temper? What do?
>STEP BETWEEN THEM!
>ARGUE on MITZI’S behalf!
>GET MITZI to EXPLAIN herself!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4717662
>WRITE-IN
Quick, distract her with an embarrassing story about our larp days!
>>
>>4717662
>STEP BETWEEN THEM!
>>
>>4717672
>>4717700
Screw it, I'll just combine 'em. Writing!
>>
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Uh oh, you know where THIS is going--you still have nightmares about Syb’s ex! Mitzi doesn’t strike you as someone who cares enough to back down, so in yet another act of heroism (Ly oughta start tallying this crap) you dive between the two girls like a bodyguard taking a bullet!

STAn, what are you doing?” Syb asks, eyes still burning. Face-planting on the floor seems to have bought you some time! You quickly shoot Art a thumbs up, prompting him to give you a supportive nod!

What are you doing? That’s easy--you were just about to remind her about that one time--you know, at Blades of Zamarka!

“...This isn’t nerd shit, is it?” Mitzi asks, arms crossed.

No, you growl from the floor, craning your neck upwards for better volume, It’s ROLEPLAYING. In LIVE ACTION.

“... Nerd shit. Well, it’s been fun--” Mitzi responds, turning for the door. A gesture from Sybil, however, slams the door in Mitzi’s face.

“We weren’t D O N E.” Your best friend croaks. Of COURSE you weren’t, you interject, wrapping yourself around Sybil’s legs like a constrictor! This reminds you of that one time you almost mixed poison berries into that one player’s lunch!

How so?” Syb interjects, the flames slightly dying down.

Well, you continue, you could have done something you would have regretted later, but you DIDN’T! Look how well that turned out!

“Stan…” Syb chuckles, the memory slowly coming back to her, “You still did mix poison berries into that guy’s lunch.” Her chuckle evolves into a full-blown bout of laughter! “You… You just used LESS!”

Yea, you guess you did, you agree, laughing along with her! What ever happened to that loser anyways?!

“... That was you?” Art growls, recollection clear in his expression. “I got REALLY SICK! They had to pump my stomach!”

Too late--the whole room is laughing now. Crossing his arms, Art’s pout slowly turns into a wry grin, followed by soft laughter.

“Okay… It WAS pretty good, I guess.”

Recovering from her laughing fit, Sybil wipes the tears out of the corner of her mascara-laden eyes and breathes.

“You’re right, Stan… I wasn’t thinking. Not too long ago I barely trusted Art either!” Sybil explains, lightly patting Art’s shoulder.

“And now look at ya,” Mitzi adds, “Stan told me you guys were expecting kids!”

And just like that the room’s tense again, only this time it’s directed your way. You never knew Syb could turn that red before!

“Maybe we oughta change topics, cupcake.” Ly whispers, bringing you back to focus!

>CHOOSE 2 FOR SOME REASON!

>ASK how ART is FEELING
>Regale your friends with tales of YOUR ADVENTURE
>Touch BASE with SYB
>Introduce MITZI
>WRITE-IN
>>
Somehow I forgot to past a whole FUCKING update between >>4717361
and >>4717544. FUCK ME. Here it is if you still wanna read it:

Okay, clearly there’s been a few misunderstandings around here, you say, planting your hands on your hips! Mitzi leans against the hallway and crosses her arms.

“... I’m listening.”

Good! First and foremost, there’s nothing, N, U, T, F, I, N, G, E going on between the two of you, especially not SUBDUCTION!

“But there was an ABduction, right?” Mitzi asks, trying to sound interested and failing. You respond with an emphatic nod--of course! You thought he was gonna squeal on you if you left him behind--you know what they say about snitches, right?

“Stitches. Mhm.”

… Okay, you were going to say something else, but stitches was your second answer. Anyways, you didn’t want Art to squeal, so you took him along. He didn’t exactly put up a fight.

“Gotcha.” Mitzi replies, staring at an impressive water damage stain on the ceiling.

It all worked out anyways, you continue, stepping to the side to let some hospital staff wheel a patient clutching his own severed arm on a gurney by. Art’s kind of a goofball, but he’s also really smart and good with a rifle! You take a moment to make a ‘PEW PEW’ noise, but it doesn’t impress your new pal much.

Lastly, you conclude, glancing down the hall in a conspiratorial fashion, Art’s off-friggin-limits. Word on the street is he’s got some serious booty comin’ his way, you explain with a wink.

“...Booty, huh?” Mitzi asks, no longer spellbound by the ceiling stain. Precisely, you respond. GOTH, to be exact. He and your best friend Sybil might have a thing going on.

“Apocalyptic romance, huh?” Mitzi muses. “Sounds pretty hot and heavy.”

You nod--they haven’t really kissed or anything yet, but you wouldn’t be surprised if there were at least three kids by the end of the year--assuming this all blows over, of course.

“Well then,” Mitzi sighs, pushing off of the wall, “Reassuring to know that the chastity of Good Boy Security Drones everywhere is no longer at risk. The way command put it you sounded like some sort of fairy tale boogeyman or something, swooping down and snatching drivers away in the night.”

You’re not a fucking BOOGEYMAN, you shout, stomping your foot on the ground!

Aaaaand it continues to THIS post:
>>4717544
>>
>>4717858
>ASK how ART is FEELING
>Touch BASE with SYB
>>
Sorry for the late update--have an appointment early tomorrow so I might not be able to update until around 2-3pm PST. I'll toss a post up on Twitter if I manage to get back earlier, though! Thanks again for playing and putting up with formatting crap!
>>
>>4717858
>ASK how ART is FEELING
>Touch BASE with SYB

>>4717979
Thanks for running!
>>
>>4717858
>ASK how ART is FEELING
>Touch BASE with SYB
>>
>>4717966
>>4718081
>>4718760
Sorry all, took ages to drive back from that appointment. Writing!
>>
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Yes, let’s change topics!

“We didn’t say anyt-” Art begins, but you DEFTLY INTERCEPT! Sidling up next to the bed, you lean in a bit--how’s he feeling, anyways? The last time you saw him he was getting kicked like a soccer ball!

“Yea, thankfully I lost consciousness around then!” Art answers, a strange amount of pride in his voice. “I woke up later in a cell alone, so that kinda freaked me out--thought you were a goner.”

Honestly you almost were, but what happened next?

“Well,” Art continues, leaning back in the bed, “I got pissed! Started shouting and kicking everything I could until my leg started throbbing, then I passed out again.”

Him and that darn leg! Looks like it saved him again, huh? You ask, prodding at it with your finger.

“Funny thing about that.” Art responds, removing the sheet to show off the healthiest, and hairiest, leg you’ve ever seen! “Turns out it was infected--docs were able to fix it up here pretty easily with that GOO we had in the van!”

Hey, you remember that! They really oughta’ label it better, though.

“In any case,” Art concludes, “The leg’s all better AND the doctor blamed all of my ‘Traitorous Actions’ on the fever, so hopefully I’ll be all set once I’m discharged!”

Hold on a second, you interrupt, the doctor just decided to do you a solid like that? Why?! Art shrugs.

“Guess I’m just likable! I also might have regaled him and a few nurses with tales of our adventures so far--think I bagged you a fan, Stan!”

“As long as those tales keep you out of a jail cell or on the receiving end of a bullet I’ll be happy.” Sybil adds, pointing an admonishing finger at Art’s face. “No sense in rushing things, however dire the circumstances appear!”

“Yea, yea…” Art replies, grinning out of the side of his mouth. “Just gotta wait and see what the doc says--until then I’m takin’ it easy!”

Lucky bastard. All you got was Blumenkrantz almost killing you.

“You get used to it.” Art replies, rolling his eyes. “He threatened to tear my head off, stuff it, and use it as a football once when I forgot to make another pot of coffee.”

Coworkers, right?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4719110
Satisfied with his report, you watch as Art reaches for a glass of TOMATO JUICE next to the bed. Sensing his intent, Syb reaches out with a pale hand, causing the glass to glide through the air into his grasp.

“‘Preciated.” Art grunts, downing half the glass.

“No thanks necessary!” Sybil replies with a smile. Hey, you were going to ask about THAT too! When and how the hell did SHE get here?! Your pal looks to the ceiling as she ponders your question.

“Oh, right--I was so used to the doll I forgot I wasn’t physically there… Well, the doll fizzled out shortly after you boarded the elevator, leaving me alone in the pocket dimension.” Syb turns to Mitzi. “I have one of those.”

“Cool.” Replies the guard, rapping her knuckles on the doorframe.

“Remembering what we had agreed on, I tried to locate you and Arthur, but COULDN’T! Whoever erected that barrier certainly did their homework!”

You kinda suspected--it made you feel like crap the minute you passed through as well!

“Curious…” Sybil muses, rubbing her chin in contemplation. “Perhaps we can discuss that more at a later time…” She suggests, briefly glancing in Mitzi’s direction.

“Yea, let’s chat later!” Ly agrees, causing Syb’s expression to soften.

“I’ll admit I was worried--some barriers are known to eliminate magical forces completely, not suppress them.”

“That was by design, apparently.” Mitzi interjects. “Some specialist named Blacquiere and his group set it all up--kinda a dweeb when it comes to magic crap.”

“I see…” Sybil responds, eyes narrowing. “I’ve heard that surname before--hopefully I can pick their brain a bit before we leave…”

Uh oh, Syb’s got that ‘NEW RIVAL’ look in her eyes--better shift gears!

“How’d you get in here anyways?” Mitzi asks. Hey, she read your mind! “The Lodge is locked down tighter than a jar of peanut butter at a squirrel convention.”

“A magician never reveals their secrets.” Sybil responds, with a conspiratorial wink.

“...Eh. Suit yourself.” Mitzi replies with a half-hearted shrug. “I’m a security guard, not a cop.”

She DOES have a good question, though--how exactly did she get here so fast? It’s hell out there!

“Like I said: magician. Secrets.” Sybil repeats. Ohhh, this is one of those ‘Shifting Perspective Bonus Updates’ we can use later, huh?

“If the opportunity calls for it.” Sybil replies, nodding. “Which reminds me…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4719111
Taking a seat on the edge of Art’s bed, Syb produces the NOTEBOOK she was writing in before. Flipping through it telekinetically, she stops at a certain page in the middle and floats it over for you to see.

“You complained about me not telling you about my spell capabilities earlier--I figured we could go over them now.”

See, this is why she’s the best: doing stuff without you even asking for it! Snagging her chair and plopping down on it, you skim through the pages as she continues to explain.

“The earlier spells are still there,” She begins as you notice a few familiar ones. “But now that I’m no longer focusing on animating and communicating through a doll, I can devote some of my energy towards new abilities!”

Sounds good, you reply, leaning back a bit in your seat. Let’s start with AT-WILLS!

“TELEKINESIS speaks for itself,” She explains, lifting Art’s glass away from his hand. “Very weak, however, so no tossing people around, I’m afraid.”

Snapping her fingers, you recoil as a narrow beam of light extends from Syb’s hand, the air around it sizzling with activity!

“RADIANT BLADE.” Syb states, a smug grin on her face. “Performs the basic functions of a very powerful laser. Handheld, of course!” After receiving a sufficient amount of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the gang, she snaps her finger again causing it to disappear.

“Last, but not least,” Your friend teases like a game show host, “Is BLINK.”

True to its name, you blink momentarily and marvel as Syb DISAPPEARS! What the HELL?!

“Over here.” Mitzi drones, sticking a thumb behind her where Sybil stands grinning.

“Full-dimensional movement in any direction nigh-instantaneously!” Your pal explains, clearly LOVING it.

“Can you go through WALLS?” Art asks, pointing behind him.

“Yes… But no.” Sybil replies, shaking her head. “One wrong leap and I could get stuck. Better safe than sorry.”

Darn, you mutter, snapping a finger. That woulda’ looked BOSS!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4719114
“Lastly,” Sybil continues, blinking back to her perch on the side of the bed, “I can conjure a FIREBALL. Explosive, loud, and very dangerous. Takes a while to form, however, unlike ARCANE BOLT.”

Oh yea, you remember FIREBALL. That was one hell of a Halloween at the Corn Maze, that’s for damn sure.

“I should also mention that I can transfer some energy to you, should you require it, or use it myself to HASTEN movement and actions!”

Become speedier, huh? You can dig that!

“I thought you would. Doing that takes QUITE A BIT OF ENERGY, however, so don’t expect to use it all the time.”

“This is all well and good,” Mitzi interjects, “But how exactly do you keep yourself from blowing everyone up or something? Seems like a lotta power to hold onto.”

“Controlled breathing, regular exercise, and discipline.” Sybil responds. “Haven’t lost control yet!”

You hide a frown--that’s a friggin’ LIE. You’ve seen Syb go ape before and it’s never pretty--she gets really STRONG and can toss all of her spells around AT WILL, but once she calms down she’s OUT like a LIGHT! She probably doesn’t want to talk about it in front of Mitzi or Art, though.

“That concludes the explanation!” Sybil giggles. “Please direct all questions and concerns to the email address on my website!”

Ugh, there she goes with the website again...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4719117
“Sounds great.” Mitzi mutters, giving Sybil a golf clap. “Who else wants to share their abilities, hm-”

Before Mitzi can finish her useless and sarcastic comment, a blur BLASTS IN FROM THE HALLWAY, sending the guard careening into you! As the two of you tumble into a heap on the floor, the blur manifests in front of you as a pale, gaunt figure wearing stained doctor scrubs and eyepatch and brandishing a surgical scalpel!

No VISITORS allowed!” He drones in an deep, eerie voice! “It seems I will have to TAKE CARE OF YOU MYSELF!

>Roll 1d100 to defen-

“Oh hey, doc!” Art says cheerfully! “No need to worry--these are my friends. You know--the ones I told you about?”

The doctor’s posture relaxes somewhat. “My sincerest apologies… I’m DEATHLY serious when it comes to hospital security--I hope I didn’t FRIGHTEN anyone…

“N-no way!” Mitzi replies, removing herself from on top of you and standing back up. “Just surprised us, is all.”

Yea, what she said! You add, rising back to your feet! Focusing his one eyeball on you, the doctor quickly looks you up and down.

...Stanley Parble. I’ve been DYING to meet you…” The doctor hisses, giving you a polite bow, “I am DOCTOR CLANCY DEVON--Arthur has told me quite a bit about you…” You shoot Art an uneasy glance prompting him to give you an encouraging nod!

“Thank you again for taking care of Arthur, Doctor.” Sybil says with a genuine smile. “Who knows what would have happened if he stayed in that cell…”

Don’t thank me just yet…” Replies the doctor, “Arthur won’t be WITH US much longer…

“WHAT?!?”
WHAT?!?

You and Sybil shout simultaneously--the hell does THAT mean?

“I thought I was CURED, doc!” Art says, a look of panic on his face!

No, no…” The doctor croaks, slowly shaking his head, “I mean that Arthur will be DISCHARGED soon--his treatment is just about completed. A thousand apologies for the misunderstanding…

You plant your hands on your hips and glare--this guy’s got quite the sense of humor, doesn’t he? When can Art get back to… Arting?

Once his paperwork is complete…” Replies Devon. “Until then, feel free to ask me any further questions… Otherwise I have a REQUEST for you, Stanley...

Your glare intensifies. What KIND of request?

Arthur told me about your… Abilities. If it’s not too much to ask I would greatly appreciate a MARROW SAMPLE…

What do?
>SURE, I’m free!
>NOPE, can’t spare any!
>LATER, maybe? Kinda busy.
>What do YOU THINK, (INSERT CHARACTER)?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4719121
>SURE, I’m free!
This guy looks perfectly sane and capable :)

Nah but maybe he can find out some neato shit about us, I say we go for it
>>
>>4719121
>SURE, I’m free!
Seems dangerous, but what the hell why not
>>
>>4719121
>SURE, I’m free!
>>
>>4719134
>>4719175
>>4719176
Writing!
>>
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SURE, you’re free, you respond eagerly! Bone marrow, right? How bad could it be?

Stupendous… I TOO am DYING with ANTICIPATION… ” Agrees the Doctor, his face narrowing into what you assume is glee. “We’ve been able to create the serum that cured Arthur here with a similar donation--I can’t wait to OPEN YOU UP and SEE WHAT’S INSIDE….

You glance back at your pals and grin--neat, right? Art responds with his usual hyperactive sweat glands while Syb has…

Is she drooling?

“...So many possibilities… Imagine…”

Syb!

“Wh-hm?!” She replies, snapping back to attention! “Y-yes, Stan, of course! I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the qualities of your marrow myself!”

“Just tell him ta’ keep da’ BONESAW in da’ cupboard!” Ly mutters, causing a pit to form in the bottom of your chest. He won’t… Use a B-B-B-BBONESAW, will he?!

Of COURSE not… Replies the doctor, somewhat taken aback! “I’m a professional--It’ll be over SO QUICKLY.... You won’t even know WHAT HAPPENED!

Cool--kinda like the flu shot. Your anxiety sated for now, you turn to Mitzi for her opinion.

“Yea, yep. Mhm. Absolutely.” She mutters, building a tongue depressor cottage. “Go have fun.”

That settled, you hold your arm out for the doctor to examine. Let ‘er RIP! Dr. Devon stares at your arm for a little too long, then shakes his scarecrow-like head.

Not here… Follow me to my INNER SANCTUM!” He hisses, beckoning for you to follow. “It’s not far, but it’s QUIET.... You could SCREAM your LUNGS OUT and NEVER be heard….

Sounds pretty peaceful, alright. Gesturing for Devon to take the lead, you’re stopped in your tracks when Sybil grabs you by the shoulders!

“Stan, wait!” She hisses in your ear. Good ole’ Syb--always looking out for you!

“Doctor, could I come too?” She asks in her sweetest voice. “I run a podcast and it’d be a pleasure to observe and assist in the dissect-er, procedure any way I can!”

Oh. Alright.

Of course…” The doctor answers, a grin visible behind his surgical mask, “The MORE the MERRIER…” Devon pauses to look your way. “Of course, it’s up to young STANLEY to decide who she’s comfortable with bringing… The process is… MESSY…

That sounds like doctor code for “This might hurt like a bitch”. That said, do you wanna bring anyone with you?

>Nope, just ME and LY! Er… Me!
>SYB already has her NOTEBOOK out, so…
>MITZI looks like she could use some fun.
>ART, wanna see something cool?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4719246
>SYB already has her NOTEBOOK out, so…
>>
>>4719259
Syb it is! Writing!
>>
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“Ya know…” Ly whispers, “Sometimes I get da’ feelin’ dat’ Syb ain’t all there.”

Well you can’t fault her on enthusiasm, that’s for sure! Following behind Syb and Dr. Devon as they chat excitedly, you can’t help but feel a little curious yourself--what’s so special about your marrow anyways?

“Search me.” Ly sighs, borrowing your shoulders for a shrug. Isn’t that sorta what they’re about to do?

“Fair point. I figure even if we don’t get all da’ answers here we can at least show dese’ Good Boy goofs dat’ we’re willin’ ta help.”

Hey, he’s right! What if your marrow cures cancer or something!? Private Island HERE WE COME!

“One victory at a time, cupcake.” Ly replies, killing your enthusiasm. “But who knows? We heal up and get more powerful--who knows what else dat’ stuff’s capable of?”

We have arrived at our FINAL DESTINATION…” Croaks the doctor, introducing a large lab door with a grand gesture. You feel a brief gust of wind as Sybil appears next to you, eyes wide in sheer excitement.

“Just THINK, Stan!” She gushes like a kid on the way to summer camp, “ACTUAL experimentation and application of your bone marrow, oh I’m SO proud! Just think--whether this has something to do with what’s been going on or not it’ll finally give us some insight into what makes you so YOU! I was talking to the Doctor and he was eager as well--he even said that we might havetimetodoabrainscandoyouthinkwehavetimeforthatbecauseI’vebeendyingtoknowwhat’sbeengoingonin-”

Ladies,” interrupts the doctor as he ushers you in, “Please make yourselves COMFORTABLE…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4719372
You take the lead if only to help Syb cool down a little bit. Devon’s ‘INNER SANCTUM’ isn’t exactly what you expected--an ADJUSTABLE BED sits in the center, straps and all, bordered by a CRASH CART of various medical implements. Off to the corner sits a CLUTTERED DESK and a bank of computer monitors--the former caked in CRIMSON SPOTS and a PICTURE FRAME placed down on the desk hiding the photo itself. In the far corner of the room sits a SMALL DOOR--most likely a supply closet!

“Don’t worry, Stan,” Syb smiles, taking a seat by the bed and tapping her eyebrow piercing, “This ingenious device has a CAMERA--it’ll film everything for future endeavors!”

Huh. You always wondered why she made you look at her piercing when you tested her cooking. Retrieving a set of flasks from behind his workstation, Dr. Devon motions you towards the table.

Worry not, Stanley--It’ll ALL BE OVER SOON…

Yea, you hope so, you reply, hopping into the bed. Leaving Mitzi and Art alone together is bad--they’re probably talking Mad Smack about you right now!

“Don’t worry, Stan.” Sybil reassures you, patting you on the head, “Just think of it like an adventure! Also if you feel the need to describe any pain, sensations, or visions, don’t hold back!” Your best friend taps her piercing a few times for emphasis and adds a wink in for good measure.

Getting cozy, you watch as the doctor shambles over, placing some more tools on the crash cart.
Sybil, my dear--would you mind restraining our subject? Wouldn’t want her to FIGHT BACK…

“Of course, doctor!” Sybil replies, strapping you in tight as if she’s been doing it for years. Struggling to breathe against the bindings, you can’t help but wonder how necessary this all is.

The skeleton is a stalwart defender…” Muses the doctor, removing what looks like the lovechild of a DRILL and a SYRINGE from the crash cart, “And I don’t want to have to HUNT YOU DOWN AGAIN…

The doctor presses a trigger on the SYRILL a few times, causing the needle-like protrusion to hiss and spin! Oh good, that’s certainly working.

Any LAST WORDS?Before I BEGIN, that is...” The Doctor asks?

>TELL ME about YOURSELF, DOC!
>What’s with all of the RED on you?
>WE GOOD--let’s DO THIS!
>SYB, does any of this seem WEIRD?
>WRITE-IN
Getting sleepy so I'll call it here for tonight--will check in TOMORROW around 9-10AM PST! Getting close to the end of Part 5-- thanks again for playing along!
>>
>>4719117
So Syb's a level 5. Respectable.

>>4719375
>What’s with all of the RED on you?
>>
>>4719375
>TELL ME about YOURSELF, DOC!
>>
>>4719387
>>4719664
>RED and BACKGROUND!
WRITING!
>>
>>4719375
>SYB, does any of this seem WEIRD?
I'm sure this is just standard medical practice.....
Also headcanon, Sybil has a bridge piercing.
>>
>>4719969
Oh you SCOUNDREL. I'll put this in too because I appreciate you all.
>>
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Trying to ignore the medical tool of mass destruction he’s holding, your mind drifts to other, greener, less painful-looking pastures.

Syb, you begin, a slight shake in your voice, does any of this seem… Weird to her? Looking up from fiddling with an exceptionally sharp, serrated tool, Syb gives you another pat on the head.

“What, weirder than anything else that’s happened in the last few days? Relax, Stan--all scientific procedures appear strange to those who aren’t accustomed to performing them! Many classic alchemists and shamans, for example, were merely practicing methods that would eventually develop into modern chemistry and medical care down the line!”

That’s cool and all, you begin, but doesn’t she find the Doc to be… Sorta off? She shrugs.

“Stan, if he was planning on harming you in any way, he’d have to get past me first!”

Awww, that’s kinda sweet of her!

“Don’t worry--if anything goes wrong I’ll do my best to preserve your brain!”

Hold on, wha?

“I said if anything goes wrong I’ll do my best to preserve you from PAIN!” She repeats with a wink! Man, you’ve gotta get your ears checked!

I might be able to assist with that…” The doc interjects, pulling out what looks like some sort of belt sander. You’re good for now, thanks!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720028
So now that your mind is totally at ease you’ve gotta ask--those red SPLOTCHES on the doc’s outfit--what’s the story there? Doctor Devon’s eye goes wide as looks down at his scrubs and coat.

Oh MY… How CARELESS of me--you really weren’t supposed to SEE THAT…” The doctor scuttles off to his desk and starts rummaging around in the drawers.

I suppose I’ll have to DEAL WITH YOU NOW--I wouldn’t want ANYONE ELSE finding out what’s REALLY GOING ON HERE…

“Get ready, kid--somethin’s comin!” Ly hisses, prompting Syb to stop measuring your head and actually look towards the friggin’ doctor. As you pop your BONE CLAWS, you prepare to take Devon by surprise as he returns from his desk with something behind his back!

I have a SURPRISE for you…

What do?!
>SYB, GET HIM!
>Try to BUST OUT of your bindings!
>WAIT and see what the SURPRISE is!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720031
>SYB, GET HIM!
GOTH SUPPORT! GO! Hit him with all those spikes in your face!
>>
>>4720031
>Try to BUST OUT of your bindings!
>>
>>4720041
>>4720068
>SYBPPORT and BUSTIN' OUT!
Roll me 1d100+10, please--you have element of surprise! You can do that by putting dice+1d100-10 in the OPTIONS section! I'll take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 17 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4720099
>>
Rolled 54 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4720099
>>
Rolled 89 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4720099
Lets not fall victim to the good doctor.
>>
>>4720101
>>4720115
>>4720116
>Highest Roll: 99!

WRITING!
>>
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As the doctor approaches with a devious look on his pallid face, you let out a low growl--does he really think you’re THAT stupid? You knew something was up since he entered Art’s room!

Acting as if you planned it ahead of time (which, if anyone asks, you totally did), you turn to Syb with determination and yell “NOW!”

Your BESTIES MIND LINK pays off--snapping out of her mad science stupor, Sybil turns your way and gives you a curt “ROGER!” before grabbing Devon by the shoulders and delivering a nasty GLASGOW KISS, smashing her forehead directly into his face!

Reeling in pain and surprise, the doctor is preoccupied as you rip out of your bonds as if they were velcro--either you’re getting stronger or Good Boy cut corners on their ‘Mad Science Equipment’ budget! Leaping onto him like a feral cat, you fell the doctor immediately, sending him CRASHING to the floor before you can even stick him with your claws! The sound of breaking glass caresses your ears as you and Syb loom over him, claws and RADIANT BLADE pointed at his neck! The Science Fair is over, creep--WHO IS HE ANYWAYS?!

I… I should have guessed you wouldn’t RECOGNIZE ME…” Coughs Devon as a pool of RED forming underneath him! Holy shit, you and Syb must have got him good! “But then… It was a LONG TIME AGO…” He winces, a pained look on his face!

You and Syb blink in unison.

“What’s he talking about?” Syb asks, keeping her blade pointed at his throat!

Wait a minute… It CAN’T be!

Who do YOU think it is?

>...The CORPSE-ART KILLER?!
>... Your UNCLE?!
>... TIM!?!
>... Nah, you’re drawing a BLANK. WHO are you?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720154
>... Your UNCLE?!
>>
>>4720154
>...The CORPSE-ART KILLER?!
>>
>>4720192
>>4720196
>UNCLE?!
>THE KILLER?!?

Writing!
>>
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No… You whisper, hardly believing your own thoughts--it can’t be! Dr. Devon CAN’T BE YOUR UNCLE!

The doctor blinks at you with his one eye. “N-no… No, I’m not your uncle…

“No way dat’ guy would set foot in a hospital.” Ly agrees, “Especially with dat’ ‘Tracking Chip Injection’ theory of his…”

Okay, it was worth a guess--shut up! Besides, that was just a warmup! You know who he REALLY IS!

“Golly!” Sybil gasps, planting her hands on her cheeks, “Who is it really?”

You were getting to that! Reaching for the doctor’s surgical mask, you pull it back to reveal…

Some pale stubble and well-kept teeth. Huh.

For a medical professional self-care is PARAMOUNT…” Hisses the doctor. Quiet, you, you’re about to blow this thing wide open! You see, Doctor Devon is really…

THE CORPSE-ART KILLER!

https://youtu.be/UFcJmOs8DRQ

GGHK!” Hisses the doctor!

“Wha?!” Sybil exclaims, taken aback!

“ORDER IN DA’ COURT!” Ly shouts, borrowing your hand and smacking it a few times on the crash cart!

He couldn’t be content with trying to gas you or kill you with grenades, could he? You sneer, glaring daggers at the doctor! When he saw that his usual tricks weren’t going to work he decided to cut us off at the one place we’d be headed next--the Good Boy Security Station!

“...Wait a minute-” Syb interrupts. Hey, Ly said ORDER, DAMN IT!

Sneaking in through the sewers, the killer planned on the chameleon approach--infiltrating the bunker and taking the shape of the first important person he could track down!

“What abo-” Ly starts, but you STOP. This is the PARLOR SCENE! The most important part of the investigation!

Of course they don’t have to take YOUR word for it--after all, when the killer cornered and brutally murdered the REAL Devon, he had nowhere to store the body! They ARE in a busy hospital, after all! Luckily the good doctor had a convenient dump site nearby!

Pointing a class at the DOOR IN THE BACK, you politely ask Syb to open it up and check! As your pal cautiously approaches the door, you adopt a smug grin--make sure to pinch your nose--corpses tend to SMELL!

Taking a deep breath, Sybil looks back one last time before swinging the back door open. What you find inside, well…

It’s not what you expected!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720333
Inside the room is a mass of bright lights, sprinklers, and troughs full of what looks like…

“...Berry bushes?” Syb asks, plucking a handful of blueberries from a plant.

Okay… But your point still stands!

Please… Allow me to EXPLAIN…” The doctor wheezes, raising his trunk from the floor. “I’m not the KILLER you speak of… But I HAVE treated his victims before. You see, Stanley… I DELIVERED YOU.

Wait, WHAT? What about the STORK?! You shout incredulously!

I was a doctor at CLEARWATER HOSPITAL for OVER TWENTY YEARS… YOU were one of the FIRST BABIES I delivered. When I heard Art describe your deeds, I wanted to meet you once more… This time when you were old enough to speak!

W-but… Wait, he was there when you were a BABY?!

Precisely…” The doctor nods. “I was there when your parents came up with your name… I never approved, of course, but now I see it’s become a source of POWER!

What? No it hasn’t. Can he change it for you? It’s caused way more trouble than it’s worth.

... No.”

Worth a shot.

“Please….” The doctor hisses, “Ask me ANYTHING… I’ll be happy to reveal all!”

What do you ask?!
>Okay, but what’s with the BERRIES?
>Any cool DEETS about me being BORN?
>What’s with you being all PALE?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720337
>Okay, but what’s with the BERRIES?
>>
>>4720337
>Okay, but what’s with the BERRIES?
>Any cool DEETS about me being BORN?
>What’s with you being all PALE?
>Why is my BROTHER ignoring me?
>What does the fox SAY?
>>
>>4720364
>>4720394
Well he DID say 'REVEAL ALL'... Writing!
>>
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Okay, you respond, hands on your hips as you leer at the doctor on the floor, what’s all that have to do with BERRIES? You emphasize your question by pointing at the door in the back where Syb continues to chow down.

A… PET PROJECT of mine…” The doctor explains, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “My mother, may God rest her soul, used to make the most wonderful BERRY TARTS… Even now on a warm day I can still smell them cooking in the oven, the humming of my mother, the sound of birds singing…” The doctor begins to fade into his own memories, but shakes it off and comes back!

When she passed I vowed to keep her memory alive, and the best way I could think of was by RECREATING HER BERRY TARTS. Alas, no matter how many times I tried I could never capture the flavor and nostalgia baked into my own flakey pastries…

“So these berries…” Sybil starts, looking back at the bushes in the room behind her.

Indeed… Berry plants of every species. I may not have inherited her BAKING SKILLS, but I’ve become QUITE FOND of creating JAMS…

With that the doctor slowly rises to his feet, revealing a pair of crushed jars underneath him. Letting him go, you dip a finger into the goo and give it a taste…

Holy SHIT.

“But… Why?” Sybil asks, returning to the group. “Why were you so secretive about your project?”

Many of those bushes came from my MOTHER’S GARDEN…” Replies Devon. “When the CATASTROPHE occurred I couldn’t just LEAVE them behind, so I BROUGHT THEM WITH ME in a series of BOXES…

“Yes, but-Oh that IS good-” Sybil begins, taking a taste of the jam for herself, “Couldn’t you just tell the others? I personally wouldn’t have headbutted you if I had known--sorry about that again…”

No need to apologize… I’ve never been much of a PEOPLE PERSON....” The doctor croaks, waving Syb’s apology away. “And I wouldn’t DARE tell my colleagues about my JAM… Think about how UNPROFESSIONAL it would sound! And what if they didn’t LIKE IT? No… Best to leave it a secret until I can finally live up to my mother’s reputation…

Well damn, guess that was the big surprise, huh? Sorry about that!

It’s no bother… I’ll fetch you some more. If Arthur’s stories are to be believed, you’ll be needing PROVISIONS…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720507
So, you backpedal, tasting a bit more jam off of the floor, he mentioned he was there when you were born! Any NEAT DETAILS he can share? Dr. Devon pulls a chair over from his desk and rubs his chin thoughtfully.

It was QUITE SOME TIME AGO… Your BROTHER was there too, I believe--not much older than you are, if I recall correctly…” He explains, looking you up and down. “I’ll never forget how much my HANDS SHOOK--it wasn’t my first delivery, but I was nervous all the same!

Doesn’t sound too difficult, you reply, hopping back onto the ADJUSTABLE BED. You could probably give it a shot down the line!

I’m sure… I recall your father holding your mother’s hand and telling JOKES--I suspect they were meant to calm HIS NERVES more than your mother’s, but it worked all the same.” The doctor smiles at you. “When you finally took your first breath EVERYONE was relieved--even your BROTHER, such a taciturn child, was grinning ear to ear...I’m so HAPPY to see that you’ve grown into such a NOBLE GIRL… To think all of that HARD WORK paid off… It fills me with PRIDE…

Well good thing he doesn’t know the REAL you. In any case it seems like Art was right--you DO have a fan!

“Apologies for the interruption,” Syb interrupts, “But did you notice anything peculiar about Stan back then? Anything… Unique?”

There WERE rumors that the nurse carrying her to the nursery accidentally DROPPED her into a MOP BUCKET, but seeing Stanley now I can’t imagine that being true…” The doctor replies, shaking his head.

Yea, there’s no way the nurse… Uh… What did they say again? Anyways, no way that could have happened!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720509
Moving on before anyone can notice your forgetfulness, you jab a finger at Dr. Devon’s face--why is he so PALE anyways?

“Stan, you can’t just ASK why people are PALE…” Ly groans as Sybil facepalms next to you.

Ah yes… My complexion is quite the common conversation topic…” Devon replies, chuckling. “You see, I suffer from a condition called ALBINISM… An uncommon trait, but nothing life-threatening, I assure you..

Albinism? Wait a minute…

He can READ MINDS?! Quick--don’t think of that REALLY EMBARRASSING MEMORY! Damn it, TOO LATE!

“No, Stan,” Sybil cuts in with her teacher voice, “Albinism is a genetic disorder that gives someone pale, sensitive skin and APPEAR to have red eyes!”

Indeed…” Replies the doctor. “I grew up as a relatively healthy boy, of course, but my appearance caused many to avoid or make fun of me… I quickly learned to appreciate the company of oneself, however, and devoted much of my time to reading and studies…

That explains his creepy way of saying things and weird jokes!

...What jokes?” Devon replies, raising a pale eyebrow.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720513
As you contemplate Devon’s words, a thought comes to you--he knew your brother, yea? Why does he think your brother stopped talking to you? A look of shock and slight pity forms on the doctor’s face as he lightly pats you on the shoulder.

Apologies, my dear, but I don’t have the answer to THAT question… All I can tell you is that he was absolutely THRILLED when you were born--I can’t begin to imagine what would cause him to cut you off…

What the hell? Didn’t he say he could REVEAL ALL? Why can’t he reveal THIS?

I merely DELIVERED you… I would assume you relied on OTHER DOCTORS as you grew older… Though if I get the TIME I would be HAPPY to share your MEDICAL RECORDS with you…

Hey, THAT’S more like it, you shout, pumping your fist! Nice to know there’s someone willing to bend the rules around here!

Actually, it’s quite LEGAL…” Replies the doctor. “Frankly I can’t imagine why you haven’t looked into it BEFORE…

Yea well… You’ve been busy. Yea.

Back to our PRIOR subject… In my experience I’ve found that some problems, especially with people, can’t be solved by ONE PERSON alone… Perhaps HE will reach out to YOU when the time comes…

Yea, as IF. Still, that’s probably the best explanation you’ve received in ages, so thanks!

No trouble at all…” Devon croaks with a smile. “Happy to assist in the SAVING of the WORLD…

ONE MORE THING, you say, raising a finger in the air. The fox… What does it say?

The doctor stares at you for a moment, then adopts a different posture. “MORE WORK TO FOLLOW. WE MISS YOU, KITTEN.

WHA?

I said I’m not sure what you’re referring to, my dear…” Devon repeats, a hint of concern on his face, “I’m a DOCTOR, not a VETERINARIAN…

“Anything else, Stan?” Syb asks, clearly trying to keep things moving. “Or are you ready for the procedure?”

What say you?
>ONE MORE THING! (WRITE-IN)
>Actually let’s NOT do the MARROW THING.
>Time to DONATE MARROW!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720516
>Time to DONATE MARROW!

Devon seems like a good guy. We should keep an eye out for some tart recipes to help him out
>>
>>4720520
Wait wait fuck
>ONE MORE THING! (WRITE-IN)
"Do you have any PONGOS?"

THEN the marrow
>>
>>4720523
+1
>>
>>4720523
>>4720535
Asking the IMPORTANT stuff! Writing!
>>
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Now that you’re good and acquainted with the doc, your apprehension about the procedure fades away! BRING IT ON!

Splendid! The anticipation must be KILLING YOU!” Dr. Devon replies, hoisting the construction equip-err, SYRINGE. Oh yea, NOW you remember why you were worried about this!

Wracking your brain for anything else to discuss before you get a needle the size of a Barber Pole stuck in your bones, your mind drifts to the conversation you had not too long ago with good ole’ Haulie Paulie. Has the doc ever heard of PONGOS before?

PONGOS?” He replies, scratching his chin in thought. “Interesting… I came across a few last evening when drinking a NIGHTCAP in the COMMONS…

Hold up--they serve booze there? You thought this place only had, like… AEDS or whatever!

MREs?” Sybil asks, fiddling with a scalpel.

Sure, whatever they are.

I was surprised myself! A saloon in a shelter… I suppose anything is possible these days…” Replies the doctor, shaking his head with a grin. “At any rate, I won quite a few in a GAME OF CHANCE there--these PONGOS appear to have quite some VALUE to those who VENTURE OUTSIDE…

“Something to look into, it would seem!” Sybil muses. Seems so! The doctor rummages around in his pockets for a moment and retrieves a set of PONGO DISKS--SEVEN IN TOTAL!

An OLD MAN such as myself has no need of these…” The doctor explains, holding them out for you. “Think of it as a LATE BIRTHDAY PRESENT…
Gingerly taking the PONGOS from the doc’s gloved hand, you quickly inspect your haul--hey, what the heck are these anyways? Aliens? Syb peers closer and chuckles.

“Those, Stan, appear to be pictures of BACTERIA!” She explains, pointing to the STRANGE BEASTS on the disks. “This is what they look like when magnified--see? That’s Chickenpox!”

“Neato!” You and Ly exclaim simultaneously! Pocketing your haul into your PONGO POUCH, you tally your total and come up with 12 including the ones with the GOOD BOY MASCOT you found earlier!

I hope you enjoy them…” Devon chuckles. “Now then… Shall we get started? This will only hurt… A LOT…” He explains, brandishing his needle!

You try to swallow your fear, but it doesn’t quite work! I-I-Is he SURE?!

That was merely DOCTOR HUMOR to PUT YOUR MIND AT EASE…” The doctor replies, patting you on the head. “It won’t take but a MOMENT…

“Remember, Stan,” Syb whispers, “Try to rant and scream towards this!” She explains, tapping her eyebrow piercing.

“Just uh… Tell me when it’s over!” Ly mutters, his voice drowned out by the whirr of Devon’s needle!

>Roll 1d100 to NOT FREAK OUT! I’ll take the BEST OF 3! Feel free to add in any CALMING STRATEGIES you think will work for BONE-USES!
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>4720627
Think about good times, like the batting cages with Sue!
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>4720627
take a deep breath and try not to focus on the needle.
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>4720627
>>
>>4720650
>>4720653
>>4720729
>Highest Roll: 71
Writing!
>>
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As you feel the syringe drawing closer to your arm you look away, grasping for any thoughts that can take you away from what’s about to happen!

Your mind in freefall, you eventually settle on an old favorite--those brisk nights you spent trying to hit balls at the Boardwalk Batting Cages...

You remember the frigid sweat on your brow getting chilled by the gust of air following a ball--the ache in your arms as you spent hours trying to connect with your bat.

”Learn from each strike.” You remember your brother saying. “It’s not losing if you learn from it.” You remember gritting your teeth and anger welling up in your face--easy for HIM to say. That’s when it happened--you swung.

… And you still missed.

...One more.” He would say like one of those pull string dolls as he shoved another dollar into the ticket machine. You remember your embarrassment compounding with each game--each buck added to the number of hits you owed your brother. Some day you’d break even.

It wouldn’t happen until a few years later, but you remember it like yesterday--it was a particularly rainy day, but you went anyways--the batting cages had become more therapeutic than your sessions with the counselor.

You remember stomping the water off of your boots and shaking the rain drops off of your rain jacket--nothing too fancy, of course--it never got too cold in Clearwater. Like a worker clocking in you went through the motions: Open wallet, put in a dollar, unlock gate, close gate, grab bat, swing, swing, swing…

With each hit you felt lighter. Better. When the ball pushed against the bat, you pushed BACK, sending each one into the end of the cage with a satisfying THOK!

Hey, are you playin’ or WHAT?” you remember hearing. There you were in batting position not realizing that you had hit a perfect game on the hardest difficulty. Part of you wanted to high-five the grumpy player waiting to take your spot, but you didn’t--you were on auto-pilot.

You’re still not sure how you made it home--maybe the bus? It didn’t matter. You remember running upstairs, your hair totally SOAKED, and kicking open your brother’s door.

“I DID IT!” You said, rousing him from his Kung-Fu Movie stupor. Turning to face you, he beckoned for you to take a seat and offered you his bowl of popcorn.

“Course you did.” He said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. In that moment? It was.

“STAN!” Sybil shouts, poking the side of your head! “Are you there?!”

Returning from your memory, you shake the haze from your head--is it over?

We haven’t even STARTED…” Chuckles the doctor as the syringe approaches your arm!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720804
Just kidding…” The doctor chuckles, pointing at the fresh bandage on your upper left arm. “Most impressive, my dear… I didn’t even use anesthetic!

What can you say, you respond with a shrug, you’re one tough cookie! Your pal Sybil pats you a few times on the head, then turns to Devon.

“When can we expect the results, doctor?” Devon examines the interior of the syringe, marveling at the glowing viscous liquid within.

It will take time…” He responds. “Both to experiment AND present our findings to the rest of the medical team… I wager I’ll be busy for quite some time…

“In that case we should check on Arthur…” Sybil muses, putting the scalpel back where she found it. “With luck he’ll be discharged by now.”

Hopping off of the BED, you stretch your arm a bit and grin--barely any pain! Send the bill to Good Boy, doc!

I WON'T LET YOU LEAVE YET…” Growls the doctor, freezing you in your tracks! The old man staggers over to you and pulls out a cluster of LOLLIPOPS from his coat pocket!

For the GOOD PATIENT…” He chuckles. “And for the GOOD ASSISTANT too…

“Ooh, look at all da' flavors!” whistles Ly, sounding much jollier than before the procedure.

Which one do you TAKE??
>Grape
>Green Apple
>Orange
>Cherry
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720806
>Cherry
The best flavor.
>>
>>4720806
>Cherry
I hope it’s got gum in it
>>
>>4720806
>Cherry
It better have gum in it
>>
>>4720806
>Cherry
I'm demanding it has gum in it
>>
>>4720807
>>4720811
>>4720815
>>4720841
I'm getting the sense that you guys want gum. Writing!
>>
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Ooooooooh SHIIIIT, is that CHERRY? Don’t mind if you DO! Taking the cherry-flavor lollipop from the good doctor’s gloved hand, you immediately unwrap it and shove it in your mouth with a polite ‘thanks’! Syb picks the GRAPE flavor.

Good choices… Those flavors are sure to TAKE YOUR BREATH AWAY…” Devon cackles, returning the remaining pops to his pocket! You and Syb share a glance, then shrug--you’ve almost died in worse ways.

The three of you leave the lab in good spirits and head back to Art’s room.

“THIS way, Stan!” Syb calls out from down the hall! Whoops. Once you get your bearings it’s really quite easy! As your group approaches, you hear the familiar muffled voice of Mitzi through the door!

“Aaaand that’s basically it.”

“No way!” Art replies, clearly impressed. You and Syb share a devious look, then KICK THE DOOR OPEN WITH FULL FORCE!

“AUGH” Yelps Mitzi, tumbling into a heap on the floor while Art just waves, clearly used to this shit by now.

“Hey guys! How was the marrow thing?”

Pssssh, you reply, it was barely even a thing. Basically free lollipops, you explain, pointing at the stick in your mouth!

“Nice. I got a BLUE RASPBERRY flavored one earlier. Had GUM, too!” The guard brags, eliciting a chuckle from the doc.

Arthur certainly likes the BLUE RASPBERRY…” He muses, checking the paperwork on the door. “Good news--it would appear you’re free to leave…

“That’s right!” Art replies, grinning from cheek to cheek. “They even told me I’m ‘Removed From Active Duty’ until told otherwise!”

“What persuaded them to make THAT decision?” Sybil asks, munching on the lollipop.

“Apparently his fevers impair his judgement.” Mitzi replies, rising to her feet. “So now he’s free to spend time however he wants--with all of his belongings included, that is.”

Art nods. “Yep. And I’m feeling loads better so you’d better believe I’m coming with you jerks!”

You wouldn’t have it any other way, you reply, crossing your arms and grinning!

“I second da’ notion!” Ly reports.

“We’ll certainly appreciate the company!” Syb agrees, smiling.

I won’t join you, but have fun anyways…” The doc says with a grin. “Let me fetch you some more JAM before I forget, my dear…” Devon creeps out of the room like a spider leaving you with THE GANG… And MITZI.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4720898
“Welp,” She begins, dusting her hands and making for the door, “Looks like the band is back together again and I’m sure you have some catching up to do--Art, you’ve got your stuff in that bag… Stan…” The guard pauses as she focuses her eye lenses on you, “... Take care of yourself.”

With that your chaperone gives you all a lazy salute before heading for the door.

What do?
>THANK HER again and LET HER GO
>ASK if she wants to JOIN you
>FIND OUT how to CONTACT HER
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4720899
>ASK if she wants to JOIN you
Inform her that the job is simple. We just kick ass and collect pongos- it's a great shtick
>>
>>4720930
Welp, that seems like enough time for a vote. Writing!
>>
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Hold on, you say, extending a finger at Mitzi’s back--where does she think SHE’S going? The rent-a-cop turns around to face you and shrugs.

“Well… You’re back with your pals and I’ve got a job to do. Apparently.”

You cross your arms and smirk--what if she was qualified another job? One that involves KICKING ASS and COLLECTING PONGOS?

“The hours are killer,” Art chimes in assembling his armor, “But you get a lot of fresh air…”

“And it’s honest work too!” Sybil agrees with a grin. “A job where you can make quite a difference!”

Mitzi shuffles on her feet and stares at her boots. “Look, it sounds nice, really, but I can’t just up and leave...”

You raise an eyebrow. Really?

“Psssh, fuck no. Today’s been the most exciting day at the job yet--of course I’ll watch your back!” Mitzi responds with a thumbs up! “If Blumenkrantz tosses me through another window I might actually die this time…”

It’s settled then, you declare, extending your fist towards Mitzi. Welcome to THE GANG! The guard meets your fist with hers, nodding in satisfaction.

“Great. Just gotta find a way to cover my tracks--lord knows they’re gonna want another receptionist or whatever…”

Perhaps I could be of some assistance…” Hisses a familiar voice through the doorway! Dr. Devon slinks in once more carrying a few jars of BERRY JAM!

Upon further inspection,” Devon continues, handing the jars to you as he examines Mitzi, “I’m afraid you might be suffering from a condition similar to Arthur’s…” The doctor whips out a notebook from his pocket and produces a bit of DOCTOR’S HANDWRITING. “I trust THIS will be sufficient to give you some RECOVERY time… ” He adds with a wink.

“You’re the best, doc.” Mitzi replies, taking the note with a thankful nod. Devon shakes his head, a grin forming underneath his mask.

I’ll expect MANY more stories of heroism when you return,” The doctor chuckles. “Perhaps we can trade STORIES and SCIENTIFIC BREAKTHROUGHS over a cup of tea…

You’re always down for a TEA PARTY. Shaking his hand one last time, you wave to the doctor as he slips out as quietly as he slipped in, leaving you alone with your team! Locking his helmet in with a dull CLICK, Art turns to you and gives you a thumbs up.

“Alright, fearless leader--what’s next?”

Achievement Unlocked: Itz Mitz
You have obtained 3 JAM JARS

>First thing’s first--MITZI, INTRODUCTION TIME.
>DOC mentioned a SALOON. Let’s MOSEY.
>Apparently there’s a GYM here? We oughta CHECK THAT OUT.
>WRITE-IN
Last post of the night--will resume TOMORROW around 9-10AM PST! Thanks again for playing and hope you're ready for the END OF PART 5!
>>
>>4721108
>DOC mentioned a SALOON. Let’s MOSEY.
>>
>>4721108
>DOC mentioned a SALOON. Let’s MOSEY.
Raise a glass to freedom!
>>
>>4721187
>>4721455
Of course you'd pick the alcoholism option. Writing!
>>
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What’s NEXT, you reply, clapping Art on the shoulder, is that you’re down TWO lieutenants and UP a few party members--clearly a DRINK is in order!

“Stan, it’s like Early Afternoon.” Art replies, laughing nervously. Psshaw! It’ll just be one drink to toast all that’s happened so far--what’s the worst that can happen? Ly, Syb, and Art all begin to say something, but stop--looks like they finally get it!

“You’re talking about the SALOON, right?” Mitzi asks as she leans against the doorframe. “I know where that is--figure we can grab something to eat while we’re there as well. They’ve got a MEAN hot dog!”

...Where has SHE been all your life? You’ve spent the better part of FIVE threads with these doubting Thomases and here you finally have someone who AGREES with you! You KNEW that one anon that voted was making the right decision keeping her around!

“Heheh… Shucks...” Mitzi mutters, turning away from you. Ignoring the annoyed growls of your other companions, you clap your hands together a few times--time’s a-wastin’, let’s go!

Exiting the room in single file, your crew makes its way through the hospital and back towards the lobby.

“To think that so many people survived…” Muses Syb as she takes in the sights. “After seeing what happened above ground I was almost sure that we were the only ones left!”

“That’s the plan in a nutshell!” Mitzi replies, gently pushing a wheelchair out of your way. “If we had all of our people standing guard in front of the station, the boneheads would suspect something. As long as that barrier holds we’re more or less safe!”

“Yea, but what happens when it doesn’t hold?” Art asks, dodging to the left as a group of nurses rush by.

“...Then I guess we’ll have a fight on our hands.” Mitzi sighs with a shrug. “Can’t hide forever, right?”

Don’t worry, you smirk, this group doesn’t do a lot of HIDING.

“I hope not.” Mitzi chuckles. “Been eager to crack some skeleton heads for a WHILE now.”

The four of you are ushered through the lobby by a wave from a nurse at the reception desk. Dr. Devon hovers next to her and gives you one last friendly wave which your entourage returns!

“Nice guy.” Ly muses as you exit the hospital, “We oughta’ track down some more BERRY stuff for him if we get da’ chance!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4721890
The chaos of the MEDICAL WING is promptly replaced by the hustle and bustle of the COMMONS. Making your way past the throngs of idling refugees, you follow Mitzi in the direction of the elevator you arrived on.

“Gotta head back to the entrance, then hang a left.” She reports, stepping over the outstretched legs of a man passed out in the middle of the corridor. “If we’re lucky we can grab a few seats!”

“Lucky’s the key word there!” Art adds as a group of survivors clad in hodgepodge armor bump his shoulder! “Don’t these people have anywhere to go? It’s like Christmas at the Mall here!”

“Not much else to do, really.” Mitzi shrugs. “If you aren’t security you’re really limited to waiting around in a sleeping block or checking out the commons.”

“TEST YA’ MIGHT, TEST YA’ MIGHT!” Hollers a teen spinning a sign three times too big for him! “CATCH THE BONEBREAKER BRAWL AT THE GYMNASIUM ARENA OR PARTICIPATE YOURSELF!”

You feel your ears perk up a bit--THAT might be a fun way to exert your dominance over these POSERS!

“One thing at a time, Stan…” Sybil sighs, shaking her head. “You still have that MEETING with the BOSS, yes?”

Damn it, you forgot about that! Guess you can’t go ham at the saloon after all, huh?

“I thought you said you’d have ONE drink.” Art mutters. Well yea, but one BEER doesn’t equal one DRINK!

“Kinda jealous, not gonna lie…” Mitzi sighs. “There’s a LOT I’d like to say to whoever’s running this circus…”

Passing by a ring of refugees betting on a RAT FIGHT, you’re pulled along by your colleagues and eventually emerge back where you first entered the COMMONS, now teeming with more activity than before! Scavengers peddle wares that probably aren’t theirs on rolled-out tarps, musicians battle for dominance with instruments of all shapes and sizes, and several other criers like the teen you passed earlier struggle to have their voices heard over the din of countless refugees trying to find a distraction from the mania above!

“Reminds me of the BEACH.” Art whistles as your group approaches.

“Yea, but at least you could get some SUN.” Mitzi replies, waving ‘no-thanks’ to a man gesturing to a cage of rats. “But hey, at least they aren’t gonna confiscate booze down here, right?”

Over YOUR dead body, you growl. As your team makes its way through the COMMONS… Square? Let’s go with that, you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Something’s not right here…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4721894
“You alright, Stan?” Syb asks like the good friend she is! You shake your head as you stop dead in your tracks--you’ve got a bad feeling about this…

“Wh-you don’t mean what I think you mean, right?” Art mutters, sweat forming on his mask for like the eleventh time. “It’s not The Specialist, right?”

“... Specialist?” Mitzi asks, planting her hands on her hips.

“Long story.” Sybil replies, patting you on the head. “But no, this looks different.”

“Different HOW exactly?” Art hisses, scanning the crowd for any sign of danger.

“Yea, feel free to fill us in…” Mitzi adds, her hand resting on the STUN BATON at her side.

“Well it’s probably nothing, but you know how dogs can sense when earthquakes are about to occur?” Sybil asks, ushering your group to the side of the entrance hub. “Stan does something similar. Only…”

“Only WHAT?” Art asks, his voice now shaking.

“It only happens when-” Before Syb can finish, you notice several people approaching from all corners!

“IT'S THEM!” A refugee cries! “THE CHOSEN ONE!”

A crowd forms around you as idle chatter grows into a raucous din! As you struggle to not get crushed in the human stampede, you feel a pit forming in your chest--what the hell do they mean, CHOSEN ONE?!

Pushing people away, you freeze as the bulkhead leading out of the COMMONS slowly opens, causing the crowd to go deathly silent!

That’s when you hear it--the dull, muffled beats of a song permanently engraved into the very grooves of your brain...

https://youtu.be/mHjH3DyKChU

No… NO!

“What IS IT?!” Shouts Art as Sybil stands facing the bulkhead, mortified.

“It’s… He can’t be…”

Art and Mitzi follow your gaze towards the entry bulkhead. Like a stage curtain the bulkhead rises into the ceiling revealing a tall, muscular figure wearing Good Boy EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR COVERALLS, a GOLDEN SKULL MASK, and some of the TACKIEST RED HEADPHONES ever to walk the face of the Earth. Flanked by two other figures, you watch wordlessly as the man stares into the crowd with the poise of a Greek God before slowly removing his mask.

“Didja MISS ME?” Boris asks, tucking the mask into his pockets. The crowd answers with a roar of cheering and applause, and once it begins…

It doesn’t stop.

END OF PART 5
Achievement Unlocked: Bone to Roam
>>
>>4721896
And that, my friends, is the END of Part 5! I’ll be taking the rest of the day off due to APRIL FOOL’S, but I should have PART 6 up and running TOMORROW around 9-10AM PST!

It goes without saying, but thank you all so much for sticking with me through all of the screw-ups, the info dumps, the snores and the chores--I realize that you all take time out of your busy schedule to keep this story going and whether you’re a repeat participant, a newcomer, or even a lurker, know that I sincerely appreciate your interest in Stan’s story and your continued participation, feedback, and artwork!

I’ll be trying to archive this stupid thing in a little bit, but I’m more than happy to ANSWER QUESTIONS, RECEIVE FEEDBACK, and TALK ABOUT OTHER SHIT for the rest of the thread! If you have anything you want to SHARE, ASK, CRITIQUE, or WHATEVER, put it in here and I’ll be happy to answer as long as it isn’t TOO METAGAMEY!

Otherwise, check out the following links if you haven’t already:

https://twitter.com/DemBonez3
This links to my Twitter where you can find UPDATES, ART, and a few OTHER QMS I FOLLOW AND REALLY LIKE! I don’t spam, so feel free to follow if you like!

https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN
This here’s the IMGUR gallery for BONES QUEST ART. All FANART goes here too, so if you have any then you’d better believe your shit is goin’ up!

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bones%20quest
Lastly is the ARCHIVE link. Feel free to check here for PREVIOUS THREADS!

Tl;dr: Thank you all again for playing along and I hope to see you in Part 6!
>>
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>Boris shows up

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Awesome thread! Excited for Part 6
>>
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>>4721901
Thanks for running!
(I'm absolutely imagining Boris as pic related)
>>
>>4721901
Oh god not this douchebag again!
Jokes aside, thanks for running. Bone Quest is one of my favorite parts of my day, and I'm super grateful that you've been putting so much effort into making it fun.
Here's my question, how many piercings and tattoos does Sybil have?
>>
>>4721903
Yep, make way for the TRUE PROTAGONIST! Thanks again for playing along, man!

>>4721953
You're inspiring me to play Hades now, haha! Thank YOU for playing--hope to see ya in the next one!
>>4721959
E-effort? Yea... That's me! Nah seriously, thank you so much for the kind words--it's one of my favorite parts of the day too, especially when people are enjoying themselves!

Syb has her EYEBROW piercing, of course, now revealed to be yet ANOTHER recording device. She also has her ears pierced, but it's hard to see those underneath her FLOWING GOTH LOCKS. As for tats, well, she has a few on her arms to amplify her magickal power as well as defend against minor hexes--turns out taking designs from several different schools of magic works pretty well!

She also has a GHOST on her thigh, but good luck seeing THAT one.



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