> Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Urban%20Story%20QuestStan, you know this school like the back of your hand, including the secret rooms where you've been stuffed before - the places where she's most likely to hide. This can be done. You can do it. Murmuring that, you begin combing the classroom blocks. All three of them face the inner quadrangle, and the front block - where the senior kids study, and where the classrooms are large and spacious - also faces out over the sports fields. At any time, someone could look up from their sprint training or their jogging or whatever it is they do at track, and see you creeping around in their rooms. In case you needed to be any weirder. She's not in the classroom - not in any of them. Creeping around quietly, you peek into each and every one of the classrooms. Almost all of them are empty; one of them has someone sitting inside, still and bowed over a table as if reading something very intently. And one of them has got two guys who begin kissing just as you peek in. Right. Never mind that. Let's try the auditorium then. But be quick, Stan, be quick... The auditorium, large enough to seat hundreds and hundreds, now seems eerily still even when you fumble your way to a light switch. Bathed in yellow light, the soundless space with rows and rows of red upholstered seats quickly reveals there's no one here, unless you want to look backstage. You probably ought to. But let's sit a little first... > cont'd.
>>28477784'Elina, where are you?' Your voice sounds a little strange saying that, whether out loud or to yourself. Resting back, you try to think over what you've learned the last few days. Elina's weird diet. Her immense, almost... almost inhuman strength and speed. Her sense of smell, not to mention her *smell*, even when she's not wearing any perfume. The story of that horror in the town where you bought that music box. The scrawny girl, with black hair, who looks miserable or emotionless and has nightmarish eyes. You remember what the old man told you, about those eyes, that hit you like a punch before Tessa rushed back in with even worse news. 'They were like fire,' he had said. 'Like a branding iron, glowing yellow. I actually felt hot when I saw them, like I was being burned.'Elina's eyes - if you thought hard enough, you could see it that way too. Except you don't; to you they're honey, amber, something precious and gentle. To you, she has been precious and gentle. But then... > Elina is that being. It's the simplest explanation. > It can't be, right? She's been... she's nice. She's not a monster. > Other.
>>28477821> Elina is that being. Not that we like her any less. Already kinda guessed it...
>>28477821>> Elina is that being. It's the simplest explanation.
>>28478274>>28477889Admitting what is likely the truth is always the hardest thing. For what seems like eternity, just sitting there, you put up all sorts of objections to the idea, but eventually the acknowledgement overcomes all of that. Belatedly you realise you're panting, or just breathing really hard, though you're just sitting there. It feels like you've been punched - then again, you get punched all the time, but this isn't too frequent. 'Dear god. Oh god. It is her. Has to be...'Elina has to be that girl he was talking about. She's moved in with a serial killer, so... and then... what? She's one herself? She's not human at all, is she? But even as that seems undeniable, given all her behaviour over the last three or four days, there's no saying she's not human. That thought brings on a little surge of guilt, and you feel like slapping yourself. What do you mean she's not human, Stan? She thanked you for your gift, and returned the favour, and played the Funstation with you. Left you notes. Snuggled up to you when you slept. Taught you how to fight. Maybe that's what she taught you - how to think like her, like... like whatever she is. But she doesn't hate, right? She doesn't hate *you*. She said she liked you, and enough to let you shower with her. Come think of it, she only attacked that rich twat - you shake your head to clear the image of him in Elina's flat wanking - she only attacked him because he backhanded you. She's standing up for you. Like Cath used to. Rrrgh. This is all too much for a weekend. You were just going to Da's place for a relaxing trip, that was the whole damned point! You facepalm and sigh, trying to sort through the currents of thoughts and feelings. > How do you feel towards this probably not human who's been more human to you than most people, Stan?
>>28478802We don't have to stop being her friend. We should still question her about all this.
>>28478802>Keep looking for her.
>>28478802she's been better to us then just about everyone we know. we still like her
>>28478802We have questions we need to ask her.
>>28478802>>28477821Little late on this, but...There was a reason I wanted to have/see the note. I think she might be like that other girl, but Elina is not actually her. The handwritting is wrong. So, Elina must be better than that other one. Because she's perfect.
>>28479012>>28478999>>28478857>>28479142>>28479181You're in the middle of rubbing your face when suddenly there's a sound from behind you, and all your instincts and reflexes override your thoughts. Oh fuck oh fuck they saw the lights they're coming they've seen you. Oh fuck. Oh fuck... Your hairs stand on end, your whole body tensing up for the abuse it knows is coming in this dangerous place, and you quickly roll off your seat onto the floor and curl up. But there's nothing other than that single sound of something falling on something. No footsteps. No one recognising and calling you freako. No one coming with balled fists, or a lash. Not even breathing. Some seconds later you peek out to make sure there's no one, and then the thoughts come back; but after that scare, for some reason, they come more organised, more coherent. Elina maybe, probably, is some sort of human-killing thing or animal or vampire or whatever it is. But she's been better to you than almost everyone you know. She doesn't come at you with balled fists (except for training purposes); she hasn't turned her back on you. Besides, she's... cute. And she's a bit funny, if in a weird way. You do like her. And because you like her, you will have to find her. But this time round, Stan, you will have to be firm. You'll have to ask her the questions, and you have to ask them nicely, but you need an answer. Then you can be friends. Maybe... maybe you can even hope to be more. The little flame of a thought you've had flickers into life at that thought, and you get to your feet. 'Righto. Okay. Elina, better hang in there...'> Change incoming. > Meanwhile, do you intend to date Elina if she's willing? She seems willing. But you haven't gotten around to asking, well, not really.
>>28479236>> Meanwhile, do you intend to date Elina if she's willing?Yes
>>28479181What do you mean, Elina must be better than tht other one? Didn't get you. And yeah we're still good if she's good. I don't care.
>>28479236Yes, if she says yes. Man-ing up enough to actually ask? That may take some doing.>>28479290Less basement of bones, less maybe killing Cath.
>>28479236Rain. Rain is coming down on you, all over. You're wet with water. And something else. In the grey light of day others would not see what is soaking your clothes, just a black, spreading smear, but as you flop onto your back on the grass, trying to draw breath, you look down, and your body is an expanse of bright red. Still warm to the touch even with the rain and chilly weather. You're bleeding all over. How were you discovered? How did this happen? The questions surge around in your confused brain, mixing with the signals of pain from all over your body - searing, terrible pain. You haven't felt this hurt - haven't *been* this hurt - in a long time. Not many know about your weaknesses, but of course your attacker did. You can't close these wounds yourself. A steel blade, a bone broken by rocks - that's no problem. But this will need time. Time, and food, even though you're in no shape to hunt. From a distant portion of your brain, something sparks a burning sensation in your eyes, and for the first time in forever you start sobbing as you lie there. It hurts. It hurts. You could die from this. Damnit. You just wanted this to be a short weekend. You had planned nice things too, with the boy. And now you're here and bleeding all over... trying to fight through the haze of agony, you look up and around. Your clothes will mark you out easily in the murky darkness. But you can't go back to change. > Go to Stan's and change into his clothes. You're bleeding though. > No time for that. Let's... go and find somebody. > Other.
>>28479561>> Go to Stan's and change into his clothes. You're bleeding though.
>>28479561>Go to Stan's and change into his clothes.Stan has bandages. We can use those to drip less, right? People don't normally walk around dripping blood, so it'd be hard to go unnoticed. And his clothes smell nice.
>>28479663>>28479677>>28479710You push yourself into a sitting position on your elbows, though every time you rest your weight on them, pain shoots up your arm. One of your elbows - it's evidently broken. You didn't realise it because you were crawling up the wall in a panic, but now - owww... Wipe tears off with good hand. Think of your elbow, whole, intact, uninjured. Focus on that, Elina. Stop crying now. The time for crying was ages and ages ago. You can't cry now. Look around you, remain alert. The pain - you can't do anything about that... Trying to stabilise your breathing - at least your lungs were not pierced, though you can feel fire in your guts - you look up at Stan's window, large and tall and inviting. The six-foot gap between you and it is an easy jump, even in your current state, and you land lightly on the narrow windowsill and look in. No one there, of course, but the light is on in the hall. His mom's home. You placed a little wedge of wood here so you could open the window if need be. Sorry, Stan; that's why you've been feeling a little draft... pushing the window open you slip in, and take a deep breath. Mmm. Stan's smell - the smell of sweat, and humanity. It's... really nice. Shit, you're getting blood on the desk. That time Stan saw a little patch of blood on your sleeve and panicked - it was just a little gouge with a knife, two seconds' healing work. If he saw you in this state... quickly you wrap your wounds up with the bandages, and also with two of Stan's face towels (sorry, Stan!). That should... stanch it a bit. The background noise in the house - you know what it is. Stan's Mom is going 'oh, ohh, ohh' in a crescendo, and something's creaking, and someone else is grunting. Ignoring that, you look at the wardrobe... > Wear something casual. > Wear something nice, like a shirt. > Wear Stan's uniform. You're going to his school. > Other.
>>28480103>> Wear Stan's uniform. You're going to his school.
>>28480103> The uniform, and a jacket, to help cover the loose fit.
>>28480103> Incidentally, if you feel I'm updating a little too hurriedly and not giving your votes a chance, please tell me. I normally do it pretty fast, but I could also slow down, no problem.
>>28480431nah this speed is gud
>>28480431This speed is fine.
Rolled 5, 6, 6 = 17>>28480431Speed is perfect for the narrative bro, you couldn't have it more down.
>>28480431Yeah, you're fine.
>>28480194>>28480205>>28480293>>28480467>>28480490>>28480506You know, of course, that they have clothes to wear for going to school, but... but this looks really nice. Now that you're wrapped up and not obviously dripping all over, you look at the plain white shirt and its little, shiny collarpin. The pin is cold to the touch, and you see MHS on it in blue letters. Mackelmore High School. That's a nice name. Pity Stan doesn't like it... Keeping your clothes under the bed and writing a note so Stan will find it before it stinks up the place, you put on his shirt and trousers. Oh man, the thing hangs an inch from either of your shoulders, the trousers are loose and baggy, and you can't see your hands. Damn. If you hunt in these clothes... You're nothing but a drag on Stan, Elina. Nothing but a drag. And he doesn't even know what you are. Seeing a windbreaker, you throw it on as well; it'd hide any bleeding that shows through the shirt, and it's meant to be loose anyway. Just then, a creaking sound. Shit. Quickly you rush to the window, to see if she's following you up, to finish you inside Stan's room. But there's no one. Nothing left to do, then. Crawling out, you wonder if you should leave a note, and where you should go to hunt... it's morning, and there's always the hobos and semi-employed people who wander around on the streets or in... no, you can't go back to the park now, not after what you've done. It being Sunday, no one would be working, but maybe if you found a lone commuter you could eat. Or... or maybe you could break into someone's house and feed... > Write note? If so, what? > Also, hunt where? The above are all some ideas. Write-in if you think of others. It's... 6.25 AM now. > Hunger: Serious. Wounds: Multiple, unclosable.
>>28480728Can we only eat humans? Maybe we could corner Stan's Mom's boyfriend and eat him.
>>28480728Hunt nearby. There's already a serial killer around, it'll add pressure for Kevin if he isn't already gone. Hobos are always safe to kill, no one suspects a tiny little girl. Plus we don't want to wait long.
>>28480728>Raid a hospital for bloodpacks.
>>28480807I love this idea and hate it but it sounds like such a hilarious plot point"Elina, do you really need to eat humans." "Yes Stan, in fact I ate your mothers boyfriend just a few days ago." "...!"
>>28480728>Keeping your clothes under the bed and writing a note so Stan will find it before it stinks...Did we not already write a note? If no, just a simple "SoRRi for aL theh tRUbbLe." Because we can't spell.Hunt hobos, but somewher off the path between here and school.
>>28480728Hobo time. Alone in an alley, preferably. Hopefully nobody actually recognizes the school uniform.
>>28480807>>28480854>>28480857>>28480881>>28480899>>28480935> Right, need to run an errand after this, but I'll be back ASAP. Stan's Mom's partner, or whatever you call the person who's mating with her, sounds a little grating. At first he was just grunting, but as you take some tissues and clean up after yourself on the desk, you can hear him getting louder and louder. 'Rrgh. Urrgh. Raagh. Ohhh you like that. You like that. Aaaagh you like it...'Is there really a need to be announcing this so clearly? The desire to eat him - the desire to eat in general - suffuses you, including the thought to go and ambush him, and then tear his flesh... but this is too close to where you got attacked. You can still smell your attacker; she's still stalking around. She must know you're here too. Why does she not attack you?... shit, if she *does* attack... no, you can't stay around. Taking a piece of paper, you scribble down a note. 'Sorry for the TrouBLe.' You really are. He hasn't done anything to deserve this trouble. Then you slip out, throw the tissues away, and then sneak through the housing estate to another one behind Stan's, in the direction of a warren of small streets. There's plenty of people here - lone people, people you can overcome... > Attempt to walk the streets and act normal. > Go full animal. Clamber the walls and ambush. > Use another tactic. > Do something else. Hunt somewhere else, or go straight to school.
>>28481114>> Go full animal. Clamber the walls and ambush.
>>28481114> Go full animal. Clamber the walls and ambush.Run the rooftops. Given the rain and the early hour, no one should be able to see us as long as we stay above the streetlights. When we find some food, we can drop straight down on them, like a jaguar.
>>28481114oh well I guess we can eat him laterFull Animal is always the best choice even if it's the worst choice
>>28481190>>28481198>>28481208>>28481246> Okay, one more post before I go errand-ing. > Will be back! Someone's coming. Acting on reflexes, you quickly get on all fours and hop up to the top of a little pavilion, then flatten yourself against the tiled roof, trusting in the darkness that humans cannot see. Except the person isn't just a human; damnit, it's got a dog. You have no choice but to hide, knowing it will bark like crazy even though you can see it's a small toy dog splashing about in the puddles wearing a raincoat. No matter the size, it is deep within their nature, just as your inhumanity is deep within yours. Dogs don't like you. But at least, with you completely out of sight, the yapping will be just a silly outburst. So you lie there, waiting, hearing the dog YIP YIP YIP YIP YAP YAP YAP, easily suppressing the fear in you at that sound, or overriding it with more fears. You're still bleeding heavily. Your stomach has been pierced, and you can't close it; acid is leaking over your intestines and your liver, slowly digesting yourself, and every breath is abject misery as your torn muscles struggle to mend themselves. Even your arm hurts when you clamber, though not as much. Your left thigh is weeping blood, soaking palpably into the cloth. Sorry, Stan. You can't use this uniform. So sorry... > cont'd.
>>28481547Eventually the person manages to pull its dog away. You've grown so accustomed to referring to people as 'it'; there have been very few exceptions. Now you have one. You have to stay alive, Elina. You have to give something back to him. He's been... really nice to you. The warmth of his skin as he hugs you. The way he feels guilt after hating you. Can you expect that if he knows what you are? You don't want to know, which is why you walked away. At least he took that note, maybe that means he isn't angry at you after all. You're okay. You clamber to an edge of the pavilion, spy out the ledge of the nearby apartment block. It's just five feet away, and you hop on, gasping at the sensation in your arms as you grip on to the brick wall. You really have to eat. And you have to eat quickly... The brick wall is not a problem, and soon you're on the fourth floor, following the piping and concrete ledge, avoiding the lights from the apartment windows. Actually, some of them are open, and you can smell prey in there. But you can also smell prey downstairs. Soon you see it. Downstairs, there is a single hobo sitting there, hunched over as they always are. Not far from it, probably within earshot, are two more, with low-slung jeans, sitting in a pavilion and smoking. The smell of weed is damned irritating, confusing your senses. Should've eaten Stan's Mom's partner. But what'd you tell Stan afterwards? Maybe if you ask him and he doesn't like that either, you could work out something... Just then, you realise something. You're under a window, and there's a single girl in that window. Twelve or thirteen. It's in front of the computer, back turned to you. There's no one else in that apartment. It'd be easy. > Drop on the hobo. > Clamber in the window, attack the girl. > Search again (roll d100).
>>28481638easy gurl2-3 hobos 2 hardgo for the girl
>>28481638chow down on the girl, kill her quick though don't want screams to carry out the window
Rolled 40>>28481638> Search again.The girl is small and awake, and the hobo is close to witnesses and under a confusing layer of weed-smoke. Let's try for someone larger than the girl and sleeping alone.
>>28481638>Incapacitate the hobos and then eat one.They're high, it should be easier.
Rolled 1>>28482037>2-3 high grown men vs 1 12 year old girl>easierthis is real life guy
>>28482099They're high on drugs. Besides, unlike the little girl people don't care about hobos missing.
Rolled 96>>28481638>You're under a window>It's in front of the computerBecause a human vanishing from a room in an apparently reasonably house is totally not going to cause awkward questions in the future.Searching again seems like a better choice than either to me. That or getting one of the hobos to follow us to a more... secluded location.
> holy shit this place has wifi!The gnawing hunger in your guts, not to mention the burning, sour sensation of them being slowly torn apart by your own digestive juices, puts you in a foul mood as you hang there, feeling your limbs ooze and bleed as they flex, considering your option. You can smell plenty of people awake, their flesh faintly aromatic in the air, but you know that's actually a dangerous thing. The girl - it will scream. It will definitely hurt. And you're not sure if you want to kill a young one - after all, those are always trouble. Humans care for their young. Eat one, and they get enraged. To be honest, with the strength you do have, even the hobo sitting hunched over there would not be an issue. But then, with the smoke clouding your senses, you don't know how many there really are, and you're smelling several people. There might be more under the eaves. That's what went wrong the last time. You tore one of them apart, but the others came for you... ... damnit, Elina, damnit! Make a decision. Your hunger is becoming unbearable... > cont'd. > I am taking 'search for someone else', but mainly because of the 96 roll.
>>28482225>>28482225Just as you're reaching for the window after your long hesitation, you hear a doorbell from inside that flat, and the girl jumps up. 'COMING!' Her yell rings painfully in your ears as she throws the door open and rushes out, her bare feet thumping on the concrete. Damnit. You ought not to have hesitated that long... Glancing down at the hobos, you shake your head to clear the damned smoke, and are extra careful when you clamber down and hop over to the next building. This one has a walkway that leads to yet another block, and then...Gold. The stench of urine marks this one out. It is not even sitting, and as you creep up, following the rusty handrail of the second walkway, it doesn't even acknowledge your existence. Vaulting over the handrail, you look around you. The coast seems to be clear. > This place is exposed; you might be discovered if you eat here. > Attack here, or try to drag him elsewhere? He is drunk; that means he might not fight, or he might fight with inhuman strength. The latter would be bad in your weakened state. > Hunger: Severe> Injuries: Serious
>>28482364>Quickly snap his neck and drag him somewhere else.
Rolled 29>>28482364Go for the quick kill. We don't have the energy to drag him away. Hopefully anyone that hears will attribute the noise to drunkenness. Eat fast, and run if we hear anything.
>>28482517>>28482386>>28482472>>28482517> What was the roll for...?You glance around again. There's no time to waste here now... Crouching down, you focus on your teeth until you feel the pain - normally a burning thing you really hate, but now just a little sting on top of all your other pains. You notice that, shit, blood is beginning to show on Stan's shirt. Please let this shirt not cost a bomb... Wrapping the windbreaker around you tighter, you lean over and clamp your hands on the man's head and shoulder, and unsurprisingly the man jerks away. 'Guh? Hurrgh-'But it's too late. Stepping on one arm and holding the other as it swings, you pin its struggling body, nearly twice your size, against the rough concrete floor. You can feel its heartbeat through your knee, and it speeds up to a frantic pace as you clamp your jaws around its throat, cutting off his breathing for the last time. It makes a few strangled noises but you keep up the pressure, clamping until you feel blood spurt against your palate. 'Hrrrkrkk! Krrrrk!' It kicks and shakes and then pees himself one last time, and then you feel it loosen and relax into unconsciousness. There's nowhere you can drag it that wouldn't be conspicuous or take too long, so you have no choice but to tear off his clothes and begin eating. Its shoulder is bruised, flabby, but it tastes... it tastes *so good*. You tear off a shred, then more, eventually licking the blood and gristle off the bared collarbone and shoulder even as you tear its skin elsewhere, eager to get to the muscle. > cont'd.
>>28482659You take several hunks of dripping, still warm flesh off the thigh. It all smells of piss, and you feel little joy from the flesh slipping into you, as you normally would. But then you're too severely injured; this isn't to make you feel normal, this is to bring you back to normal. You must eat well, Elina. You must eat, and then-Someone's coming. You look up, wipe the blood off your mouth and swallow the fist-sized piece of fat and soft flesh already in your mouth. Yes. Shit, someone *is* coming! Quickly, you vault over the handrail and then clamber up onto the roof, but by now the day is beginning to light, ever so slowly. If you stay here any much longer people will look down and notice the girl on the overpass roof, and then... 'Holy shit, what's that? Holy *shit*!' You hear the footsteps, feel your stomach close itself slowly and agonisingly, the sensation making your whole tummy spasm uncontrollably. Shit. Shit he's discovered it. The footsteps are hurried, and approaching, and then now you realise there's two of them... > You've eaten just enough to heal the most critical internal damage. You're still badly wounded and heavily bleeding, but that's mostly... superficial. > Attack the newcomers. There's two of them. Adults. > Run. Let's head to school and hide now. Go by your own power. > Head to school by bus. You've seen Stan's bus, you know which one it is. And you're... you're reasonably clean, perhaps.
>>28482712>> Head to school by bus. You've seen Stan's bus, you know which one it is. And you're... you're reasonably clean, perhaps.
>>28482712> Run. Let's head to school and hide now.Bus or walk, doesn't matter much to me.>>28482659Forgot to turn the dice off.
>>28482736>>28482788Bit by bit, the pain becomes more manageable and more controllable, as you clamber over the smooth surface of the overpass roof and drop the six or seven metres to the ground. The shudder of the impact makes blood spurt from your wounds, but this is no longer something you haven't experienced. The pain is still terrible, but then you're used to terrible pain - suffering it, and giving it. Stumbling to the empty bus stop, you are in luck; you've only been standing there a minute or so when you see the 64 bus slowly lumbering down the road, scattering water from its wheels as it comes in. No one's seen you. No dogs have seen or smelled you too, thank goodness. The bus is not very crowded, and you go upstairs and manage to find a seat; only after you've sat down do you realise that you've left a bloody handprint near the stairs. Damn! That'd creep people out... you get up, about to go and wipe it off, when suddenly two people come up the steps and make you sit down and look away. ... how bad is this part of town? They didn't even notice a bloodied hand print? No wonder Lars said this would be a good hunting ground. More people are coming into the bus, you can see. > Roll d100.
Rolled 83>>28483291be sneaky like the inhuman monsterfreak you are~
>>28483421>>28483313> 83, 81: Success!Man, if only it was nighttime - that thought floats around, almost taunting you, as you sit there trying not to look like you're bleeding profusely or wracked all over. If it was nighttime, you'd do what you normally do with buses, now that you've long been used to their existence - go up the back, and lie flat on the roof so that only your claws are digging into the bus, and just hang on there. Of course, if you tried that now, you'd be so easy to see. Oh shit, there's blood on the chair, the gleaming fabric of the trousers is slowly leaking out onto the surface... 'Don't mind.'Oh SHIT. You're just about to fuss over the trousers, when someone comes round and sits down heavily on the seat next to you, no doubt getting some on its jeans. But it doesn't seem to care; instead, it gives you a glance, and then looks down. Don't look down at the bleeding-'Going to school on a Sunday?''Uh? Uh.' This is weird. You know of course what exactly makes some people seek you out, and what you can do sometimes to *make* them seek you out. Lars, for example. But people rarely come of their own accord. Something's wrong with this guy to want to talk to you. Is it someone like Lars, perhaps? You glance at its black polo tee, the jeans. Pretty casual. > cont'd.
>>28483586'So what do you do there on Sunday? Revision?''Uh... yeah. Revision. That.' You glance at him, hoping to catch his eye so as to drive him away. But he doesn't look at you, instead staring ahead. Ironically, with it next to you, the many other passengers don't give you a second glance even when you get up and go out. That guy must be some sort of a blessing. Stumbling out, you quickly avoid the people practicing on the field and sneak into what a building, clambering around behind it, careful not to get caught... On the ceiling, you see there are a few buildings from where you are. One on your left has a big red tiled roof; another one is a long building, low and white. The one you're on is five storeys high and divided into little, open rooms. And farther to the right, there's a building connected to yours by walkways, the roofs all gathering water and overgrown with weeds, which seems to be an office block. This big building has no hiding places with so many windows. It'd be best to go somewhere else... > Go to the red-roofed building. > Go to the office block. > Go to the long, low building. > You can smell prey here, some of it. And your hunger is really gnawing painfully now, writhing in your gut like worms and ants. Urghhh... > Roll d100.
Rolled 84>>28483643>> Go to the red-roofed building.
>>28483643The office block will be empty. Easy to find somewhere to hide, easy to avoid the temptation to hunt. Hopefully. Hell, if the worst comes to the worst, remember one thing about humans: they don't tend to look up. Strength can hold us on ceilings.
Rolled 17>>28483643Red is an atractive color, but the office block has plants to hide in, so either on of>office block>red-roofed building
>>28483643> Long, low building. Far back, isolated, good to hide. Hope there's no one there so we don't eat someone accidentally.
Rolled 71>>28483707Let's try rollan on that as well.
> 2 each, it seems, for either the office block or the red-roofed building. > Will wait a bit to see if tie is broken. > Also, 84, success!
>>28483643> Office block. Probably no one there. Hide there and try to heal.
>>28483698>>28483707>>28483754>>28483765>>28483809>>28483901> Office block it is, then. > 84, 71: successes!The office block, white and round and plain-looking, seems to be best; the windows seem to all be unlit, which means no one's in. This is not just good for you - you really don't want to be seen at all, seeing as the hunger is becoming overwhelming. You shake your head as if to try and clear a nightmarish thought, but it keeps floating back - the images of flesh, of prey being slaughtered, licking their blood and chewing on the tender meat. Why you came here, you actually don't know. Isn't Stan away for the whole weekend? He won't be back until Monday, will he? You may be dead by then. Or, worse, you may have done... urgh, stop it, Elina! Don't ruin it now. You can't. The pins and needles in your guts keep distracting you as you trot over to the corner of the building and climb down, making sure you aren't spotted. You can hear some of them, talking in one room, and moaning in another room. It sounds really vigorous. Maybe if you snuck in and-NO, ELINA. NO. Climbing down to the third floor, you then let go of the building and turn in the air, biting back the urge to yelp in pain when you land with a splash on the hard concrete roof, your tummy feeling as if it's being torn open again. Then you realise something - it *is* being torn open. A strange feeling of nausea runs over you, and you bring up a mouthful of bitter-tasting blood which soaks in the water and then begins to give off smoke. What... wait, this isn't just the blade. It's... it's *poison*. She's poisoned you when she attacked you!> cont'd.
>>28483991Oh shit, oh shit. You get up and try to run, but your limbs are betraying you, buckling and twisting; still, you make it almost to a nearest window before crumbling on your knees and bringing up another mouthful of blood. The blood singes your lips coming out. And then another mouthful. Fuck... it looks like you might actually die now. The damage is simply too serious, and the hunger is making black spots flash before your eyes now. You struggle up to the window, wrench its handle so hard you feel your arm's wound crack open again and blood well up over your skin, and then push it open and slither in. When you collapse onto the cold tile floor, the coldness seems to run all over your body. This... why? Tears roll down your eyes again, the pain so intense your body is jerking involuntarily now, writhing on the floor. There's really only one way out of this, and you know what it is. Your instincts know what it is. But yet... > Damn... if you don't hunt now, you may die from the poison and the open wounds. You're literally bleeding out. Let's... get some prey. > No. You can probably last a day. Maybe. Wait for Stan. You can't get him into trouble by killing here. > Other.
>>28484069let's eat some students. It'll be fun!
>>28484069No, if we can withstand it, let's.
>>28484069> Let's...get some prey.Will to live is stronk. And, hey, if he's lucky, we'll get one of those folks that hurts him.(I hate having to leave mid-quest. Do right by us, tg.)
>>28483991>moaning in another room>Maybe if you snuck in>>28484069>There's really only one way out of this, and you know what it is.I'm not seeing the problem here. Deal with them quickly this time. We should have enough strength to snap their necks, right? Both of them? Or maybe we lurk in a bathroom stall and take the next one to enter?
>>28484214>>28484162>>28484116>>28484085> Damn, forgot to write this in. You need to eat to live. And you need to hunt in order to eat. But then you know you've already done something terrible today - worse than even what you did this morning with that hobo. It barely felt anything. But late in the night you fell for a trap. Lars. Damn, you have really underestimated him. If not for Stan, though, you would have dealt with Lars the way you usually dealt with those who travel with you for their own reasons. Every single one of them has done things you would balk at, and they did not even need to do it. You have no choice, right? Does that not make you a little bit better? You curl up under the table, and as the memories of last night come back, the screaming and the pleas and the blood, you remember something yet farther back that makes you cry again, tears mixing with the blood on your arm. Damnit. Damnit! Stan, please be safe! If you're not safe then why am I doing all this? I am trying to be as human as I can... Even if I'm getting you into trouble, please don't hate me... > If your decision remains unchanged to hunt, state so. >
>>28484214> You're not near that room anymore, unfortunately. Though even in the office you can smell prey; you're not sure if it's just the residual smell of a lot of people being here all the time, or if someone's actually here.
>>28484298Let's try to hole up. But if something comes along...
>>28484298>Check out the office
>>28484298we have to eat, it's not a choice. Elina is no stranger to killing. No reason not to hunt to ensure survival. Hunt some students
>>28484214>>28484162>>28484116>>28484085>>28484361You can't hunt in here. This is his *school*. If you ate someone here, then Stan would be in trouble, wouldn't he? You'd just cause him even more problems. He already has enough. You can't burden him anymore. But then a tremor in your body makes your eyes shoot open as you realise what's happening inside you. Even the recently closed wounds on your body, not caused by the cold blades, are beginning to break open under the influence of the poison. A stinging pain runs down your face as your cheek opens, revealing the flesh for a moment before blood covers it and runs down your jaw; another one in your leg as the skin parts around your knee where someone cut you with a knife some time ago. You clamp a hand to your chest as another something crawls back up, and quickly lean out just in time to puke a mouthful of blood, fresh and red this time, over the windowsill. Fuck... hopefully the rainwater will wash that out. You're holding your guts together only by force of will now. No, you have to eat now. If you don't eat, then nothing matters - not the school... not even Stan. That makes you feel a stab of guilt, but if you can't live to see Stan, then... You're trembling now, feeling a little cold from blood loss, trying to make light of it. Please. There was a demon hunter from Oslo who did worse than this to you, and you lasted four days in the snow before devouring an entire farmer's family. And that was years ago when you were weaker than you are now. Smell, Elina. Try to smell something... You can smell food. Your heart beats faster as you make your way there, trailing blood behind you, unmindful of the surrounding teachers' desks. Someone is... entering from downstairs, and you can hear the footsteps now, heading for the toilet. There might even be another person... you're a bit too dizzy now to tell where it's from precisely. > Go into the toilet and attack. > Wait outside and ambush. > Other.
>>28484566>> Wait outside and ambush.
>>28484566> Wait outside.
>>28484566> Plumber in house, things a little messy. Give me a bit of time pls.
>>28484597>>28484646Wait outside where people might see? Really?>>28484566>Go into the toilet and ambush. Carefully, though. Silent and quick kill, likewise feeding.
>>28484825There's no one in the office block now. We've been dripping blood all over and no one's seen us.
>>28484884Doesn't mean there's no cause for concern. Toilets have washable floors. The hallways may not.
>>28484597>>28484646>>28484737>>28484825>>28484884While entering the toilet is a possibility, and you were just about to exploit the privacy of the toilet, a sudden burst of footsteps - which also explains the smell of humanity you just detected - forces you quickly to hide behind the stairwell door. This set of footsteps is lighter, quicker - feminine. That's a good thing. You'll take it here, and then go into the toilet and finish off the other one. 'Hugh? Hugh. Are you here?' The footsteps stop just before she says that, in a light, young voice. You scurry behind the wall, still mustering all your energy to keep your body together and not drip blood audibly. Well, it's a damn good thing the floor is tiled... 'Hugh?' The girl who steps in view has got black hair in a ponytail and is pretty tall, taller than Stan. It's wearing just a t-shirt, soaked with rain, and a pair of running shorts. Those legs look well-trained, a lot meatier than the flab you made do with earlier today. It steps into the entrance and looks around while you size it up, the hunger turning from pins and needles into a continuous, stabbing pain. It looks... reasonably muscular. But young. You'll need to eat properly, and this is it. 'Hugh, don't be a voyeur and come out, I'm-' Fuck! You lean out a little too far, and by the time you shrink back the girl has seen you. 'Who's that?'You hear something worse, though. The toilet flushing. That's Hugh? Are they... are they like you and Stan? > Try to attract its pity. You *are* awash in your own blood. > Spring. > Other.
>>28485047> Try to attract its pity. You *are* awash in your own blood.
>>28485047>> Try to attract its pity. You *are* awash in your own blood.
>>28485047>try to attract it's pity"Please, help me, please..."
>>28485099>>28485142>>28485143>>28485047these but if she tries to go get more help attack right away
>>28485173If she tries to get help let's go in the bathroom and attack her boyfriend.
>>28485099>>28485142>>28485143>>28485173Thinking quickly, you immediately fall back into something you've done before - though mostly to attract older males whose attention in checking your 'wounds' is almost always more than medical. Letting go of your grip, though, you gasp honestly when you hit the floor and roll, feeling a wound burst in your chest. 'Please... help...'You reach out a bloodied hand towards the girl, who gasps when it sees you. 'Oh *god*! Oh my god what's happened to you?' 'I'm hurt...' 'Oh god, oh god.' She rushes towards you and squats down, and you can smell a little of her shampoo. Ugh, plant extracts. Grabbing your arm, she begins crying when she sees the blood welling out. 'Was it the serial killer? Oh god, wait a minute... Hugh? Hugh!' Oh shit. You should've thought she'd call her boyfriend. But even as she's doing so, the girl is working at your clothing, opening your windbreaker and then sobbing when she sees what's wrong. 'You're going to be all right, okay? You're going to be all right! We'll get you to the hospital quickly...' she mutters as she strips off her t-shirt and quickly throws it around you. 'Rissa honey? What's hap- what the hell?' They're both here. You should be able to take them. But... but it's been some time since you've attacked a couple, and now that... would you really want to hurt them? You know what will happen, but they don't... The hunger makes you almost want to puke, but you hold it back by force. Elina. You have done this before, controlling yourself. You can do it now if you want to, no matter how much it does hurt. And yet you *are* hungry...> Talk. > Strike. > Other.
>>28485319> Talksee if we can get Hugh closer and then kill the girl quickly. Throw her body at Hugh as a distraction and attack Hugh.
>>28485319>> Talk.Ask if one of them can get help. When they run away quickly kill the other one.
>>28485360But then they'll come back, with help, to find the other one dead and you gone.
>>28485352Second this, because we don't want any more reinforcements. Are they both athletic people? We might have trouble because we're badly injured.
>>28485352>>28485360>>28485449>>28485487> Off to dinner. Will come back to type ASAP. > Thanks for your patience! You people are awesome. As usual.
>>28485558Also, roll a d100. Your severe injuries give you a bad penalty.
>>28485608> 98 - 20: Success!'I... I'm hurt.' You can't think of much more to say, though your mind tries its best. It's the scent of flesh, fresh and young and firm, that's disrupting you this time. Hugh comes up to you, frowning, and then you realise you're staring it in the eyes. Damn. 'Hugh, come and help me, she's bleeding badly! Look, just hang in there, Hugh knows first aid and-' Instead of squatting to help you, however, Hugh immediately bends and grabs Rissa by the shoulders and pulls it back, just as your hands were getting ready. 'Hugh, what-''Don't, Rissa, she's danger-'Shit. NOW. Acting on pure reflexes and, you right yourself and both hands shoot out before you, left aiming for Rissa's throat and right for its chest. Within a split second, your hands are back before you again as your whole, stricken and half-dead body pulls itself into a squatting position; your left hand is clean, but blood, some black fabric from its undergarment, skin and some fat is gathered around your right. Rissa, stumbling back as blood spurts from her chest, doesn't even say anything out of shock for a second; it's Hugh who talks first. 'You *bitch*!' He says, and comes for you as you rise to finish the kill. You grab its shoulder, sinking your claws in, but it gives you a vicious punch and then tackles you to the floor, and only *then* does Rissa scream, lying on her back, exposed - and with four trails carved into its flesh. 'RISSA! RUN! RUN!' Hugh yells as you shove him off, then lunges to grab you again. Rissa stumbles, hand grasping herself, and tries to move away. > What do now, Elina? > Whatever you do, roll d100.
Rolled 35>>28486015Push Hugh away, kill Rissa quickly. Then go back to Hugh. Then we eat.
Rolled 79>>28486015>Kill Hugh
Rolled 49>>28486116What're you trying to do? I'm second >>28486052
>>28486052>>28486059>>28486116>>28486161> 79 vs. 72: slight success!Hugh is *strong*, it turns out. He tackles you, and you have just enough time to withdraw your legs and prevent him from straddling and pinning you; but even though your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, trying your level best to squeeze the life out of you, he keeps pressing against you. 'Rissa! RUN! JUST RUN!' Is all he says, as he presses down, and you see in his eyes a determination. It seems he is determined to die, if that's what it takes to let his girlfriend escape. It's... you've seen this light before, even, and you've been the reason for this bright, fiery glow before... Stopping yourself, you glance to one side and see Rissa finally turn and get on her hands and knees. One hand is still clapped over her wounds, covered in blood, but she's crawling away. Then, suddenly, she turns around. 'Hugh, don't-'*She's coming at you*. Your legs shift, and with a mighty kick you shove Hugh away as hard as you can; he stumbles several paces before slamming loudly into a metal cabinet. The sudden movement is enough to surprise and distract Rissa, who turns her side to you, giving you just a moment to leap on her. Rissa only has a moment to squeak before you floor her and straddle her, pinning her hands down against the floor. The smell of her flesh fills your nostrils, and you hear her shriek as you sink your teeth in her shoulder, cutting through skin and flesh, blood flooding into your mouth. 'Hugh, go...' she groans, hands beating uselessly against you as Hugh watches on, stunned. Then he comes at you again. But now, blood and flesh and fat in your mouth, you already feel stronger... > Whatever you do, roll d100. > Kill Rissa first. > Go at Hugh, then eat both of them slowly. > Other.
Rolled 63>>28486326>> Go at Hugh, then eat both of them slowly.
Rolled 34>>28486326>> Kill Rissa first.Just snap her neck real quick.
Rolled 6>>28486348Second this one.
Rolled 41>>28486425Yeah just snap her neck
>>28486456>>28486442>>28486425>>28486348> 63 vs. 14: Success. > It's a draw, though.
>>28486425>>28486456Going with these.
>>28486551>>28486456>>28486442>>28486425>>28486348Resisting Hugh's kicks and punches, you tear the flesh from Rissa's shoulder as she screams in agony and spit it aside. You'll have time to wolf it down, but if she keeps on screaming- Placing your hands on either side of your head, you are interrupted by Hugh sinking its very human and very blunt teeth into your arm hard enough to draw blood. Urgh! But it's nothing compared to what you're already feeling, though your hand is pinned down and cannot move. Nothing for it then; looking back down at Rissa's shoulder, splashing blood all around as it continues to kick and struggle, you reach down and sink your teeth into her throat, slicing through most of the plumbing that keeps its head and body linked. The screams stop, and its eyes bulge in horror as hot, tasty blood spatters all over your face in gouts. Hugh is also splashed. 'Rissa? RISSA!' It's done. It's done. Hugh withdraws from you, which is just as well, as you turn on him; he no longer fights you as you tear flesh off his back, strips of his well trained shoulders and lats. He's just crawling towards his dying girlfriend, whose hand flops out, reaching for his. > cont'd.
>>28486606You finally crawl up and pull Hugh's head back, exposing his throat, and then tear it open as well, drinking a few mouthfuls of blood. The liquid essence floods into your veins and arteries, and within moments it's like you've come back from the land of the dead, before you look up again, allowing the rest of his blood to wash over Rissa's face. She's almost done bleeding, a massive puddle of blood around her head and neck and chest as she gasps and chokes her last. Hugh's last breaths bubble in his own blood as you eat and eat. His flesh is so sweet! Every bit burns its way into your body, tender and warm and lively, its life awakening all your senses and flushing the injuries - even the *sense* of injuries - out of your body. It's almost as if you're being filled with life, even as they are dying. > cont'd.
>>28486701It takes a long while of feeding before you're even conscious that Hugh's moved, and then you look up just in time to see him finally slump. Your heart, normally in exaltation, sinks as you realise what's happened. With the last of his strength he's crawled over to Rissa, and now their arms and hands are intertwined, his face falling lifeless onto her cheek. She's already dead, of course, her t-shirt still tied around you and soaked with all sorts of blood. What have you done, Elina? You... you know you'd do the same for Stan. And Stan, you have no doubt, would... would do this. And none of that was any obstacle to someone like you. This... this is how weak any affection is. You are a monster, Elina. You are a monster beyond cure. The thought hammers itself into your awakened mind as you gaze upon the entwined bodies, and you can't help feeling tears well up again. There's nothing you can do that's human anymore. Not even love - not even *allow* for love... > Cry. How could you have done this? > Feed. It's necessary. You're all who matters - you and Stan. > Feed, and then touch yourself. Your body is sensitive again, warm and glowing. > Other. > Change incoming.
>>28486710>> Feed. It's necessary. You're all who matters - you and Stan.
>>28486710>> Cry. How could you have done this? >> Feed. It's necessary. You're all who matters - you and Stan.How about both! Feed if we can't, I guess.
>>28486710I feel bad for them all of a sudden.
>>28486828>>28486821>>28486800In contrast to Hugh's flesh, Rissa's is also well trained, but somehow a little sweeter, a little tenderer. You feed off the rich reserves of fat on her mammary glands - a good backup in case you should run into deep trouble again - strip the big muscles off her femur, wolfing it all down, sensitive to all sorts of noise. You should be feeling the high now. The injuries, washed out by the availability of food, are already mostly closed. Your attacker knows you could easily do this; all of your kind can. But for some reason, you can't bear to part their entwined hands and arms, to disturb those portions of them. The tears are already rolling down your eyes as, a chunk of Hugh's calf in your mouth, you contemplate their mutilated bodies. No one is safe from you, Elina. No one is. Even the ones you want to keep safe the most. Sometimes, *especially* those ones. The horrible memory makes you drop the flesh with a wet slap on the tiled floor, and you curl up and cry, forcing a hand into your mouth to keep it quiet. It takes you longer than normal to devour your quarries. ======================> cont'd.
>>28486929Fuck, Stan, how did you manage to fall asleep on your search?! Starting awake, you think you might still be in the auditorium or something, but then realise you're already in the extracurricular building, in the main student lounge. The couch is really comfy, there's a bar table (with no alcohol), and a TV and piano and the works - so this is the place that the Council holds its meetings. Well, you can see why the Council is popular then. Elina is still not here. You get up, and can hear some people hurrying about outside the lounge, maybe going about their own activities and clubs. How strange is it that there's so many people still around on Sunday; but then you know it's the concert and the competition seasons, so maybe that's why. Maybe some of them have seen Elina? Maybe you could go ask. But then, you know that many of your enemies are in the sports clubs. Maybe if you asked the other club members, though... you can hear a series of notes as someone toots on a horn. Well, there you are. > Go and ask the Orchestra people. > Go and ask the Art Club people. > Don't ask anyone, just continue searching (roll d100). > Sit here. Can't Elina smell you? > Other.
>>28486968>> Sit here. Can't Elina smell you?
Rolled 94>>28486968>> Don't ask anyone, just continue searching (roll d100).
Rolled 64>>28486968> Don't ask anyone, just continue searching (roll d100).
Rolled 66>>28486968>Try and play the tune from the music box on the piano.>Be really bad at piano.>Continue search.
Rolled 63>>28486968On with the search!
>>28486999>>28487127>>28487239>>28487246>>28487282Asking those people - especially if they're in the middle of some project or rehearsal, as you can now hear a crescendo of notes playing - seems like it would be a waste of time. They might not beat people, the way Gerald beat you (or used to beat you, seeing as you've given him what for today), but they're no more sparing with insults and labels than anyone else. Maybe even more vicious, because they think themselves to be cool. Still, since you haven't had much experience with them, maybe you should consider talking to them... eventually. Eventually. But not today. Since your reasoning for obeying Elina earlier this weekend was because she could smell and avoid you easily, it seems sensible to just sit here and let her smell her way to you - if she is here on campus in the first place. But then that line of logic is cruelly interrupted when you perk up at Tessa's voice outside. 'Right. Is everyone here? Shall we go to the lounge first and wait? Why is it always Chris who's late, does anyone have his number?'Oh, shit. Luckily there's the back exit, which opens up into another garden, this one maintained by the staff gardeners. You slip out under a porch, passing a few drummers and nearly stepping on their drums. 'Oi, watch it you doofus!'Doofus. Ah, the good old days when that was the worst they could do. Stumbling into the garden, between the long, long racks of potted plants and bonsai, you slow your pace a little. These are the back gardens of the campus, peaceful and rarely disturbed; but to your right is the sports building, and you're not going there. You turn tail when suddenly you find a small but unmistakeable spot of blood on a stone slab. Looking up, your heart almost misses a beat, when you see the girl before you, looking away. Small, scrawny. Black hair plastered to her neck and head by rain. It's Elina, no doubt. > What do/say, Stan? She doesn't look like she's sensed you.
>>28487393>> What do/say, Stan? She doesn't look like she's sensed you.>Call out to her.
>>28487393Sneak up on her and cover her eyes. 'Guess who?'Say we've missed her.
>>28487393"Elina?"Approach slowly. It's not her. It's whoever attacked her.
>>28487393>Call out to her.>get closerTime for a heartwarming reunion dood!
>>28487449... who what?
>>28487393Just say 'Hello' loudly. No need for names.
>>28487468>>28487462>>28487459>>28487449>>28487448>>28487447>>28487424Seeing her standing there so still, as if frozen, you're reminded of her doing that in your room as well - except this time round the whole of Elina looks somehow... more healthy. Her shoulders are straight, her body seems to slouch less, as if there is no longer a weight on her; but from behind she still looks really, really lost. You're pretty lost too. You want to call her name out loud for the first time in... oh wait, it's been less than two days. And you kind of also want to go up and hug her from behind. Of course, if you can sneak up on her, it's probably because she knows you're there and allows you to do it. Call out? Go up and hug? Go closer and call? You hesitate for a long while, standing there, and finally - as often happens - it's the other person who moves first. Her shoulders twitch a little, then her head tilts in your direction, and that gives you the cue you pretty much need. 'Elina?' You ask. Why did you make it sound like a question? Now you'll have to back it up with something stupid, for example, 'is that you?''Is that Stan?' She whispers, but it's loud enough to travel to you. 'Are you scared of me?' She's wearing... wait, where did she get a blouse and a business suit from? Her question sounds like it might be a joke... or maybe not. You can't really tell. > Go up and hug her, you damn fool. You've been thinking about it for two days now. > Be honest. Start probing. She feels a little strange. > Other.
>>28487462See>>28481114>You can still smell your attacker; she's still stalking around. She must know you're here too.Some female person jumped Elina, and knew to use obsidian and/or some sort of poison.
>>28487513Ask where she got those clothes
>>28487513> Go up and hug her, you damn fool. You've been thinking about it for two days now.
>>28487513> Be honest. Start probing. She feels a little strange. I smell some Healing coming!
>>28487513>Be honest. Start probing. She feels a little strange."Yeah. You ok? I was looking for you and I saw some blood and now I'm worried that-" Force-quit blather mode. "I was looking for you."
>>28487557Do this, but keep blathering. If its Elina, she'll say "stop, stan"
>>28487513>Be honest. Start probing. She feels a little strange.Of course we aren't scared, but it might hurt if we hug her.>No metagaming here
>>28487526>>28487538>>28487541>>28487552>>28487557Well, joke or no joke, you've got to say something right? She's standing there, and she seems to be awaiting an answer. Maybe you should get a bit closer. She wouldn't mind, right? Of course she wouldn't mind. You hope. You take a step forward, and as luck will have it there's a loud CRUNCH underfoot. You look down to see a smashed snail, the foot squirming in its death throes. Oh great. You can't even *step* without stepping on something! The figure before you twitches again at that sound. You're not sure if she wants to say something. 'Yeah, I... I mean, yeah, I'm Stan, not yeah I'm afraid of you. I'm not afraid of you. Why would I be? You're really nice to me. And you have really nice clothes, where'd you get that? Was that your blood on the ground just now, are you ok-'> cont'd.
>>28487617'Blood?' The word makes her start slightly, and then she wheels around; and in a moment you sigh with the force of a hundred sighs of relief. It *is* Elina, thank god, but... holy shit, she looks *weird* in adult clothes! The blouse is clearly too large for her, and so's the jacket, which reaches almost down to her knees. She's folded the skirt, but even then it goes past her knees, and it looks like she's wearing a pair of the most half-assed bermudas. But perhaps most incongruously, you come to expect this sort of clothes with, you know, make up and mascara and nice lipstick. Not that Elina looks any the worse without that. Her eyes are wide open, though. 'Blood where?''Oh, just a little spot over there. It's nothing, it's just a little...'In a cloud of the freshest citrus, and a touch of rosewater, she rushes by you to check out the blood, her expression strangely concerned; and for once you prove agile when you reach to grab her shoulder and pull her back. For a moment she looks about to lose her balance, but you grip her other shoulder and fold her into your arms tightly, and she reciprocates immediately. She smells... beautiful. Her eyes are bright amber, glistening in the rain. And, holy shit, her left face is all bloody. A red smear runs from her ear, over the cheeks, almost to the corner of her mouth. 'Mmm,' she murmurs. > Ask about it. > Wipe it away for her. It doesn't look like she's wounded. > Other. > If you'd like to say something, feel welcome.
>>28487624>> Wipe it away for her. It doesn't look like she's wounded."You are okay, right?" While applying handkerchief.
>>28487624> Ask about it. how did you get so much blood? what happened?are you ok? your acting strange
>>28487715>>28487711>>28487676'Shit, Elina.' You quickly fumble for your hankie, only to realise you've forgotten to bring it along in the rush back home and then out to school again. 'What... how did you get that much blood on your face?''What? Oh, oh I forgot...' she begins to move, to disengage herself, as if suddenly reminded of something very nasty, but then her movements feel a little slow now - must be the strange clothes - and, what the hell, you move your hand to wipe her face. Her skin is soft and supple, though rather cold to the touch. How long has this girl been standing out here in the rain? After wiping once, you turn your hand and wipe again with the back. It's mostly gone now. But you feel like wiping again, just to, well... 'You forgot what? Are you really okay?' Elina doesn't reply by words; instead, she glances around to make sure there isn't anyone, and then grabs your hand and pulls it towards her face. You're not really about to resist, but then you can't help jerking in surprise as she leans towards it and her tongue, small and bright pink and slightly rough, begins to lick the blood off your skin, tickling it and sending ripples of sensation through you as it does. Damn, this girl knows how to unintentionally - or intentionally? - turn you on like a light switch. 'Uh... that's, uh, that's gross.' You enjoy the feeling of her tongue too much to think of something more eloquent. 'It's mine. It's okay.' She then moves it away. 'Have you been to my house? You smell like my place. Stan, I can't stay there anymore. Bad... bad things have happened in the weekend...' > What do/say, Stan?
>>28487849'If you can't stay there, then where will you go?'If we can put her up, let's offer. It'd be nice.
>>28487849What happen and where are you going now?
>>28487925>>28488034> Last post for today. Thanks for playing, everyone!> You're awesome, but you arleady knew that. Given what you already know - of the serial rapist kidnapping and assaulting girls on the street; of Caitlin and Karen and Mel; even of Cath from too long ago to bear thinking about - and given what you've heard from that slightly crazy old man back at Da's town, Elina's admission that bad things have happened makes you shudder, a little trickle of fear sparking through your brain. Does she mean bad things have happened *to* her? Or does she mean that she's *done* bad things? Maybe a bit of both? You squeeze her a little, as if for reassurance, even though you already think you know something of her nature. You don't care. You don't want to care, once she squeezes you back in direct response. 'So... what happened? Is it to do with... with Kelvin?'> cont'd.
>>28488107'Kelvin...' she sighs into your shoulder, her breath hot. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you. His name isn't actually Kelvin. He's... he's called Lars. That's his real name. He's also from Sweden, see.''Lars.' You nod, swallowing that name. 'Is there a reason you didn't want me to know his name?''No, he came up with the name himself. He's gone now, Stan. I sent him away. I told him this is it - we're through. But he's still around. He's angry at me, and I think... he wants revenge.' 'That's why you left.' She nods, slightly, presses her face into your shoulder hard. You can't help kissing her scalp lightly, and when she shudders, you kiss it again, and once more, feeling her move slightly with each touch. 'Does that mean you can't stay at mine?''I can't, no.''So where will you go?' Your heart is already sinking. If she could move in on a whim, then... 'you're not leaving town, are you?''No! I won't. Not... not for now, no.' Elina pats you so you loosen a little, and looks up at you with those gold, syrup coloured eyes, glinting with rainwater and maybe a little bit of tears. 'I don't want to go.''I think there's very few people living in Mackelmore who have ever said that, I think. In like the last three decades. Maybe just three people max.' Okay, okay, stop now. Don't overwork the joke, shut up while she's chuckling. 'Well, now there's four.''Five. I didn't want to stay. But seriously. Where...? You're not staying in a motel, it's too expensive even in the shit places.' 'Is there a place in school? In here?' She gestures around. 'Maybe... maybe a hidden room somewhere...? Then when you're in school, we could hang out?'Hang out. The phrase sounds weird coming from her. But wait... she's on to something. Mackelmore is large, and the maintenance staff are lax... you could well find somewhere... off the top of your head... > Suggest a place in the extracurricular block. > Suggest a place in the auditorium block. > Write-in.
>>28488135> Suggest auditorium. It looks like it would be a quieter place in general. We took a nap there and no one noticed, so...
>>28488135> Suggest a place in the extracurricular block. also thanks for running
>>28488135> Suggest auditorium.