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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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New readers might want to at least look at a little of this, though optional:
Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=origin+quest
Recap: http://pastebin.com/dZwSYWkA
Characters/Abilities: http://pastebin.com/nUJVYzBq ))

You are Camille, a college-age girl and the recently-awakened Original of Perception. Honing your newfound abilities by using them in daily life, you hope to explore the upper limits of Origin powers, as well as discover their nature and source.

Right now, that “college girl” part seems to be the focus.

Having never had a drop of alcohol before tonight, you can't quite tell if you've exceeded your limitations or not. Things seem hazy, and a bit surreal; you feel like your Origin might be contributing to the fact that you feel like you're currently having an out-of-body experience. Even with your utter lack of social aptitude, you seem to be the woman of the hour on the dance floor, though perhaps that's got something to do with the sex-starved crowd. It's not exactly that hard, really, and it's good practice for your abilities: pay close attention to the music, and imitate the other girls down to the most minute of motions. By covering one's drunken missteps with the steps of another, you become exactly as good a dancer as all of them combined—without a goddamn clue what you're doing at all!

Your legs are getting a bit tired, though, especially after everything today—this is probably the most moving you've done in... ever. Your eyes roll back a bit, and your reddened face contorts into an idiot grin as you stumble backwards. It takes less than five seconds for the guy who catches you to start easing his hands up your shirt; you instinctively respond with an elbow to his stomach, before stumbling out of the crowd and off of the dance floor into the other room.

You're not sure how you let Anne rope you into this party business, but you don't see yourself doing it again.

You endeavor to stay focused. “Cupid Shuffle” is playing obscenely loudly in the room you just fled, serving as a poorly fitting backdrop to what you imagine is an intense situation. To be quite honest, you haven't even seen Anne or either of the soccer girls since you got here. You can't help but wonder where they got off to, or why you thought this was a good idea.

Actually, you're not even sure what time it is.

Quick sweep. Looks like you're in some kind of rec room, with a couple couches situated around a table—there's a big-screen TV in front of it all, but it's turned off. It looks like a couple of guys have taken over one of the couches as temporary sleeping quarters, tangled up among girls in various states of undress. Another sizable group of people kneels on the floor around the table, drinks in hands. Looks like they're playing some kind of card game.

There's two familiar dots in your mind, one of which is moving closer to you. You immediately look over your shoulder; Anders is descending the stairs in the front room. This means that there's something going on upstairs, that you'll have to risk interacting with Anders again, and that there's another Original nearby, and most likely in the same building as you.

Ah, priorities.

>What will you do?
Welp, got no clue what we're doing, but lets go and meander over to Anders.
You make your way into the other room. As you approach Anders, you note that he stumbles a bit as he comes off the stairs; his face is a bit flushed, he bears a goofy grin, and he's holding a Mountain Dew bottle with unknown contents. You imagine he's been here for longer than you have.

"Oh, hey! You're, uh, heh, Camille, right?" He smiles at you, then looks around nervously. "Sorry about what happened earlier. I think you can understand I've been kind of... of, uh, on-edge lately. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You wince, remembering the pain in your neck and lower back. Without the help of your own power, you imagine he'd have blown you halfway to hell. You exhale, pressing a hand against the scraped small of your back. "Oh, no, no! I'm fine. It was a little odd of me to approach you like that! You had every right to stand your ground.”

“Yeah, right.” He chuckles, then the conversation stalls for a moment. “So, I didn't expect to see you around here.”

“Oh, uhm. I'm just here for a friend.” You nod. “To make sure she gets home alright.”

“I see.” Anders pauses. “Can I get you a drink, then?”

“I'm fine, thanks.” You nod.

“Right. Well, then. I guess I'll see you around.” Anders laughs. “Oh, oh, wait, shit. Camille, can I talk to you upstairs real quick?”

>What will you do?

captcha: atzatio up-stairs
>Drop out mid thread
>Carry on like nothing happened 10 months later
That must have been one impressive distraction.

(( Oh, it was of epic proportions.
I've actually thought about picking it back up many different times between then and now, but I've been afraid that no one would follow or remember it, a problem that really only got worse the longer I waited.

So I've finally decided, fuck everything else, I'm doing it anyway. ))
Can we talk outside?
This has been fun and all, but I guess I'm feeling my normal habits kicking back in.
“Can we talk outside instead?” You ask. “This whole party thing is fun and all, but I don't think it's for me.”

“Uh.” Anders gives an apparently-cautious glance around the room, then meanders down the last couple of stairs, urging you to follow him through the room. “Yeah, sure. Here, we'll head out the back door.”

Past the sliding glass door, the two of you enter a fenced-off area behind the house, with a run-down half basketball court, an empty pen where a garden might have gone, and a grill that has seen better days—the area is illuminated by a fluorescent light above the door, as well as the stars overhead. Doesn't look like anyone else is outside. You begin to continue past him, but he stops in front of you, beginning to lead you off to the side, out of sight of anyone who'd look through the doors.

That other node in your mind comes back into view—there's definitely a third Original in the building.

“Alright.” Anders folds his arms. “You know that bookstore that shut down, just off the highway down the street?”

“Mmhmm.” You pause, before nodding—you think you've at least seen the building. “Aren't they going to demolish it?”

“Maybe eventually, but they finished clearing the place out. Nobody's been working there or on the parking lot for a couple weeks now. It'd be a pretty secluded place, if someone wanted to just go and wreck shit.” He nods. “I was just thinking, after today. This power you have, right? You're interested in learning to use it better, right?”

>What do you say?
Kinda, I don't know much about it yet though, but I don't want to be getting in over my head or anything
“Kinda.” It hasn't been long since you got a handle on your ability, but you think back to the time you've spent practicing since, and consider the level of danger you might be neglecting. “I, uh, don't want to get in over my head, though.”

“Right, I understand.” Anders responds. “Either way, I was going to say that I was thinking about heading out there tomorrow with a friend. It'd be a good place to practice—somewhere secluded, you know?”

“You're going with a friend?” You ask. “Is he, uhm?”

“One of us? No.” Anders responds, sliding the glass door back open for you. “He's just interested, is all. I think he's hoping to get a contact high. So, I'll be doing that sometime tomorrow. Let me know before that if you want to come. You going back inside?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah.” You respond. The two of you make your way back through the doors, and Anders nods at you again before beginning to shamble back upstairs.

What will you do?
>Look for your friends. Where the hell did they even go?
>Find that other Original.
>Go home. Nothing left here for you anyway.
>Find the other Original
You decide it'd be best to scope out that other Original while you're here—this time, you won't make the mistake of presenting yourself in the open, deciding instead to keep distance and use the crowd to avoid being spotted. The indicator in your mind gives you a vague approximation of their location; superimposed over your mental map of the area, you imagine they're currently back on the dance floor.

Damn. Just when you were keen on -not- going back out there.

You approach from a different angle, passing in front of a couple guys who you think cheer for you as you walk by—you did get down out there, after all—and carefully maneuvering between people so as to put yourself out of the other Original's vision. From a small crowd gathered in one of the corners of the dance floor, you zone in on what you believe your target is. It's one of the girls you think you might have been trying to copy earlier—damn, could she have seen you already? She's dead-center on the floor, and you imagine she's the kind of girl who's always at these things; low-cut top, ill-fitting shorts, long, blonde hair, trying as hard as she can to impress.

Luckily, it appears her motor skills are currently impaired; from her dancing and expression, you can tell that she, like basically everyone still here, has had a few too many. Even if she's seen you before, you somehow doubt she was aware of or will remember you.

What will you do?
Do we have any money on us?
Go and buy her another drink.
Yes, more drinks!

This is a great idea!

You experience a particularly vindictive moment, entering the kitchen and exiting within a few seconds, holding a double shot of vodka and Monster to celebrate your new friend. There's a few isolated reactions to your crossing the dance floor, indicating that some people still have yet to forget you—seriously, come on.

You stride over to your new companion, remaining mostly out-of-sight as you nestle the glass into her hand; she manages to lose about a quarter of it between there and her mouth, but downs it without a second thought nonetheless. Her face screws up for about a second, and she looks pretty close to falling over, but instead turns to face you, stomping towards you dramatically to close the two feet of distance.

“YOU.” She's about your height standing straight up, and looks like she might be a year or two older. Face red and brow dotted with beads of sweat, the Original hunches in front of you, placing a heavy hand on your shoulder and looking up at you with eyes either pleading or raging—you can't tell, it's more than likely a mixture of both, and she might be crying a little. She shouts to be heard over blaring electronic music as she pushes you towards the wall. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WHY DO THEY THINK YOU'RE PRETTIER THAN ME? WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO DANCE?”

You give a nervous look over her head. Crowd doesn't seem to notice; they're too busy with the song, and this is probably status quo anyway.

What will you do?
Be weak, look weak, act weak.
"S-sorry, I was copying you...I-i wanted thank you but..."
But if she begins to act hostile GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.
And by "hostile" I mean physically going to slap us and whatnot.
“S-sorry!” You say, calmly lifting her hand off your shoulder. You decide to feign weakness; starting a confrontation in such a crowded area would be disastrous, especially with Anders nearby, serving as an unknown variable in the equation. “I... I was just copying you, actually, and I wanted to thank you. You're really good.”

“Ehehe... heheh.” She laughs, and it bothers you a bit that her expression remains unchanged. The girl stumbles a bit as she continues. “That's-s... really s-sweet. Were you... actually just imitating me?”

“Uh, yeah!” You smile. “I was nervous, cause I've never actually been to a place l—”

She cuts you off. “You mean... this is your first time... and everyone thinks you're...” Her face twitches a bit, and her eyes light up with anger. She starts to reach for your neck with a pair of trembling hands, and you duck to slip her grasp, scrambling to one side and back into the lobby.

That went well.

What will you do?
Leave the club.
But, watch the exit for a little while.
Does killing other Origins help us at all?
Holy shit I remember this quest. I don't remember it going past the first thread
Though. Brb catching up

As far as we're aware of, only in the sense that killing people increases your odds of survival. That said, Camille isn't particularly prone to murdering people, with her Awakening serving as an extenuating circumstance.

Update in a sec. Gonna go grab a drink.
Also have we looked up at the sky at night yet? Look at the spaces between the stars, and go insane.
You head out, looking over your shoulder a few times in the short distance between you and the front door; you're not sure who you expect to be following you, but given the way the last few days have played out you don't plan on taking chances anytime soon. Hidden across the street, you decide to watch the exit and wait a bit later into the night.

Yeah, there's not a whole lot going on in your life.

With a sigh, you glance skyward, half-expecting to become a vegetable. With Perception, you focus your vision on the space between the stars, hoping to press your view of the world beyond the barrier the atmosphere sets in place. You're aware that unfathomable distances and sights lie between each individual star, in places that look small or cannot be seen from here. Even with your naked eyes functioning as a telescope, you still can't hope to make that out. It's absolutely too large, and for a bit, you sit and stare upward in wonder.

Remember? Not a whole lot going on in your life.

You wait in some bushes, in the shadow of a building, and invoke your Origin to zoom in and get a closer look whenever someone leaves the party across the street. Practice, after all, makes perfect.

Anne and Brittany end up leaving a little after one in the morning, accompanied by a pair of guys you saw at the place. They're heading towards the apartments a little ways down; you'd say something, but their business is their business. Time passes, and more people leave individually or in small groups; as it gets closer to two in the morning, the two nodes you're aware of start to converge on one another, remaining relatively close for the minutes leading to Anders and the other Original exiting the building and heading down towards the sidewalk together.

What will you do?
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Well, I lack a goal here, and killing other origins would be out of character and hard.
Lets walk home.
Though you can't help but wonder what the two of them are up to, you don't have any particular interest in finding out. Anders's offer briefly comes back to your mind, though, and you consider how things might be different should you choose to take him up on it. Somehow, you can't help but feel that danger will find you one way or another; so far, you think you've done pretty well practicing on your own, but perhaps you'd do better to try and earn yourself a few allies?

You've got at least a few hours to think it over.

The walk back to the residence hall goes by quickly and uneventfully. It's relatively quiet outside, save for a few guys playing video games in the lobby a floor above you; you make your way back to your room and change into night clothes, then sit down on your bed.

What will you do?
>It's been a long day—best get some sleep.
>Check the news again.
>Practice invoking Perception; try reading a closed book or something.
Are there any exceedingly cluttered hallways?
I'd like to practice invoking reflexes.

You could definitely -make- an exceedingly cluttered hallway, though you're not sure how your RA would feel about that.

There's some stuff in the area behind this building that you could practice maneuvering about, though you're not sure how much energy you've got left in you.
Well, lets give a little practice then.
Get three coins on the back of our hand, and throw them up into the air, our objective is to capture all three with that one hand, but only using individual captures.
When we succeed with that, bumf up the coins to 5, and then 10.

An idea comes to you, on just how to improve your reflexes. You swipe three quarters off your desk, balancing them on the back of your hand. You'll toss them into the air, and catch them individually—first, as a control test, without your Origin.

You let the quarters fly, hand trembling a bit, then flip your hand up; even with your improved natural perception, you manage only to clumsily catch a single one, awkwardly swiping a second towards the ground and missing the third entirely.

Alright, let's try that again.

Rolled 9, 18, 11 = 38

You repeat the same test, this time calling upon your Origin. As you do, something thumps on the inside of your skull—your head pounds from recent overuse and general exhaustion, and you wince, missing the first coin by a mile.

You focus, and attempt to push yourself further—letting Perception take over, you find your hand naturally glides into place to catch the second coin before you're even aware of where it's falling to. The third is a bit of a close cut, but you manage to get it, albeit barely.

You try again, several more times. On the fifth attempt, you're able to catch all three; you feel as if time seems to slow down, and everything falls into place. You'll continue until you can do it reliably, then move on to higher quantities.

But right now, your head hurts.

What will you do?
>Check the news.
>Eat some food and have some water while glimpsing at the news
>Then sleep
A quick snack, a bottle of water, and a good night's sleep will help you replenish a measure of your strength; you decide to check the news one more time before bed.

The local sites lit up a couple of hours ago, and it looks like this case has begun to generate national esteem as well; as of sometime tonight, the unknown murderer has struck again. This would make the fourth time, and the case looks about the same as usual—a female victim, reduced to a literal bloody pulp, with no signs of a struggle and no evidence of the killer left behind, not even a hair.

It occurred in relatively the same area as the others; on the far side of town, but still a couple blocks closer to your campus than the last three. Serial murders typically generate a massive media splash—this one in particular has become a national topic. It's clear, at least to you, that an Original is probably involved, but how he hasn't been found yet, and the fact that there isn't even a suspect, is a frightening mystery.

It's not close enough yet for you to panic, but you know now that you'll have to remain on your guard.


It's another tired Sunday—come about 10 AM, you roll out of bed and rub your eyes, having not slept terribly well last night. Though you're a bit nauseated, you go through the motions of another regular morning, trying to put recent events out of your mind for at least a few seconds. A shower and change into day clothes, followed by a late, lonely breakfast at the dining hall.

You consider Anders's offer again, remembering that you have his number, but he doesn't have yours. If you plan on taking him up, you'll have to be the one to contact him. You saw him leave the party with that crazy girl, too, and wonder if he's gotten her in on it as well; if anything, it's an opportunity to learn a bit more. There's not a whole lot going on on campus—what else do you have to do today? Studying is the last thing on your mind, though you could make a game of it, or perhaps continue honing your Origin powers on your own.

What will you do?
Phone Anders, and ask him about the other Origin that he "encountered" while we try and multi-task other tasks such as eating, drinking, make-up, normal morning things.
You pull up Anders's contact in your phone and give him a call. It rings for a bit before you hear a click on the other end, followed by a groggy “Mmnphm?”

“Hi, is this Anders? It's, uh, Camille.”

There's a drawn-out groan on the other end, followed by: “Yeah, uhm, sure... you too.”

“Oh, sorry!” You say. You finish a bite of scrambled egg, producing your Psych textbook from your backpack, tossing it onto the table, and flipping it open before continuing. “Did I wake you up? I wanted to ask some things.”

“Kay.” A long pause. “Go ahead.”

“Alright. That girl you left the party with this morning was an Original, wasn't she?” Multitasking like this should be borderline impossible, but you think you're managing to internalize the textbook's contents while carrying on a conversation.

“Is that what you're calling us?” Anders asks.

“Yeah, a dream guy told me.”

“Right, well, I'm pretty sure she had some kind of powers, yeah, which is why I pulled her aside.” Another groan, followed by what sounds like covers being ruffled. “Her name's Caroline. She was too wasted for me to get anything useful out of her, though. She's coming to that burnt out bookstore with me and my other friend later, so I'm gonna find out then.”

“You said your friend didn't have any powers, right?” You ask.

“He doesn't, but he apparently knows a lot about 'em. No fuckin' clue how, though, but I believe him with the kind of connections he's got.” A pause. “You might have seen him around. Heard of a guy named Michael Chang?”

“I've heard the name. He might be in my intro class, maybe?”

“Yeah, well, that's the guy. If you ever need, uh, stuff, he can get it for you. I don't really know if you do that, but, if y—”

“I'm coming with you guys.” You perk up confidently and speak loudly, prompting a few strange looks from other late diners.

A pause. “Really, now? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I had to think about it.” You've got to learn how to take care of yourself somehow, and it'd just about kill you to pass up on a learning experience.

“Alright. We'll meet you in front of your hall at about two.” Anders says. “I'm gonna go actually do shit. We'll talk then.”


Your meal finished, you make your way back to your room, still reading. Multi-tasking during your morning routine has become an incredibly trivial activity now, and you've still got a couple hours left before your new obligation.

What will you do?
Rolled 3, 8, 19 = 30

Lets go for a morning jog while studying, have a shower while doing squats, and if we still have more time begin practicing the coins again.
Back in your room, you change into athletic shorts and a loose-fitting, gray T-shirt—you carry a couple coins in your pocket to practice reflexes later when you've got a moment. You're still just a bit sore, but you think a jog would probably do you some good; you do have to try, at least. Psych notes in hand, you head out and start around the block, moving at a meager pace seeing as your endurance isn't quite yet where it needs to be. With but a moment of focus, you can achieve total awareness of your surroundings, even without lifting your vision from the notebook in your hands.

You turn to the side mid-step to slip between a jogging couple, making a hop off the sidewalk a few steps later to avoid a cyclist on a collision course; he gives you an odd look as you pass.

As you peruse your notes from class a couple weeks back, you recall a lecture on perception, not too long ago. You remember that it applies to more than just sight, but all of the body's senses, as well as other sensations and stimuli, such as balance, pain, and kinesthetic sense—you wonder just how far your own ability of Perception reaches.

What does that imply for Anders, then? His Origin was Force; that's a physics term, but you're not much of a physicist. You suppose you'll find out later—your run completed, you spend just a few minutes flipping coins on the bench outside your hall, before your phone rings, and a car pulls up on the street a few feet away.

Gonna call that end session for now--thanks for the posts after such a long hiatus. Will archive and continue sometime this week, tomorrow probably excluded.
I'm still at work and slowly catching up, but we should practice our power as it applies to physical abilities, ie juggling, throwing things and catching them, throwing pebbles at things, ect when we're mostly idle. From this post it sounds like we might already be doing that already, just wanted to suggest it.
(( http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/26586554/

Dropping back in to note that we're archived here.

And that the next thread will most likely be Wednesday. ))

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