rolled 7 = 7

>>20307722
Late 20s, male, Issac Crow.

Military vet, no longer in the service. Works in private sector security business.

Wait, you tried this earlier. Why do you think it;s not going to be deleted now?

rolled 20 = 20

>>20307722

Offline you're known as Lawrence Matthews, 29, but unless you fucked up badly anyone who might actually be interested only knows you as 'Hazmat'. A guy with your education could have been working in the Pentagon, but somewhere along the line you decided running an illegal operation out of a trailer park just seemed like it would be more fun.

>>20307951
I deleted it myself earlier because real life slapped my shit.
>>20308000
Right, right. Lawrence Matthews. Least that's what your mother called you. The world proper would recognize you, or your work at least, as that of Hazmat. The handle feels...funny, somehow. No idea why, but it makes you chuckle.

Another bout of pain drives the laughter away though. Along with some vague memories of a dangerous romp through a trailer park. Taking a deep breath, you push yourself up and take a look around.

It seems like you're in a shed or closet of some sort. Miscellaneous industrial supplies litter the area. These include a rather guilty length of steel lodged into the car. As you take stock of your surroundings your hands brush some shattered glass and a backpack. Unremarkable, but is a bit bulky.

>wat do

>>20308198
Check ourself for nasty injuries, bruises, that sort of this.

Take the backpack, open it up and see what is inside of it.

Not enough info to do anything except check the backpack and see if the place looks familiar.

Do we know who's car were we driving?

>>20308219

this

let's search some info about ourselves or what we were doing there.

>>20308244
>>20308219
A quick self check of injuries is in order. Beside the 'pain now please' part of your head, you're relatively fine. A few shallow cuts on your cheek and a bruised hand are all you can find. As you check your arms you notice a circle of metal around your left wrist. Some blue lines regularly appear on its surface, flashing numbers and letters. 3:24, Mon. Obviously day and time.

The backpack is lighter than it looks. The bulky shape turns out to be a mini-suitcase of some sort; sleek and black, with combination lock holding it tightly closed. Other than that there is a small plastic bag that holds five unmarked pills, an impressive combat knife and sheath, and a note. The note is crumpled and wet, but some of its message is still legible:

"Haz-...one do-...if you get b-...n't forget the gi-..."

Not very helpful at the moment. The knife is interesting, if only for its size. The case is puzzling, but without a combination, it won't be much more than that.

-THUD-

Well. Seems someone is at the door. If only you knew where that was. So damn dark in-

-THUD-

Impatient, whoever they are.

>Ideas?

>>20308473

let's take the knife, just in case, and check the door being as ready for anything and paranoid as someone in that situation would be

>>20308696
Well, you have a knife. And little to no idea of your location. And there is a car lodged in the ceiling. Even if you are totally innocent in this situation, it doesn't look good. So you take up the knife and look for the door...

…and keep looking. It is really darker in this room than any room with in-roof parking should be. As any slightly frustrated person might do, you grumble aloud about this situation. And you are marginally surprised when a glow answers you. The wristwatch bangle thing has lit up. Cool.

Raising it into the air you search for a door or door-like object. All this time the thuds have continued, unaware or uncaring of your predicament. Locating the source of the noise and accompanying portal you move forward.

With a trembling hand you grasp the knob. The assailant halts mid-thud. This close to the door you make out some muffled sobs or broans. Whoever it is doesn't sound too happy. Might as well greet them happily. Painful smile equipped, you throw open the door.

On the other side is...a woman. Shorter than you, long black hair obscuring her face, hunched over with her right side toward the door. She is crying, it seems. On second thought, maybe gasping. Her arm is clasped to her side, and there is a steady drip of blood from it. Injured? Oh dear. She hasn't really acknowledged you yet.

>What shall you do?

>>20309148
>Injured crying girl what do
Stab her, obviously.

>>20309300
...
At least you didn't want to seduce her or something. Ask her what's wrong?

>>20309148
approach cautiously, and ask if she's alright.

>>20309492
Then commence the stabbing, right as her guard is down.

>>20309502
>inb4 the girl is a threat and you were right

bumping

Seems like OP left us in the void again...

>>20309492
>>20309459
>>20309300
For a moment you are filled with the desire to carve this woman like a Thanksgiving turkey. Yikes. Maybe you hurt your head worse than previously thought. Still, woman in distress. Time for some chivalry. Trying your best to seem comforting and harmless, you step forward. The knife clashes with this image but points for trying.

She twitches a little at your approach. She doesn't really look at you or move noticeably. Just...twitches. You slowly move closer, all the time asking her if she's okay. She smells bad, you notice. Like bad cheese or spoiled milk. Doing your best to play off the car, you stop a step away from her.

Without warning she flings her arms around you and buries her face in your shoulder. Maybe she knows you? She certainly had no qualms about hugging up on you. She doesn't smell any better in hug mode either. And she's getting blood all over your shirt. A lot of blood. Damn...how is she still conscious?

Her grip tightens around you, painfully so. It feels like she's trying to force her way into your shoulder blade. With a bit of force you dislodge her, intent on getting some answers. Her face stops that line short, though.

Because HOLY FUCK THERE ISN'T MUCH FACE LEFT.

Her jaw is absent, and both eye sockets are empty. The gurgling sob is really all she can manage. With a shocked cry you shake the abomination off. She stumbles back a little, but quickly starts stumbling toward you.

>oh shit oh fuck oh boy what now?

>>20309759
Sorry about that. Slow writefaggot and such.

>>20309789
>mfw >>20309502 as right, COMENCE THE STABBING!

>>20309789
>>20309830
COMMENCE BRUTAL FACE STABBING!

>>20309789
Oh...OH!
Stab her. With the knife. In the face. Something.

rolled 15 = 15

>>20309789
I don't think stabbing her in the face is a good idea. Perhaps she's a super and she just doesn't know wtf is going on, you know?

Ask her if she needs medical attention.

>>20309789
STAB STAB STAB

>>20309950
In tht specific sitution I think you'd need HUGE self-control to not go full DIE DIE DIE mode.

what if she was a zombie and couldn't bite us because of her missing jaw?

>>20309789
Push her the fuck back and stand up, keeping the knife pointed outward, with you knees slightly bent.

Come on!
let's act as anormal being... maybe she needs a doctor?

>>20309989

oh wait

she stinks!
Maybe she IS a fucking zombie.

>>20309903
>>20309926
>>20309830
Fuuuuuck this. Jawless women is the line. You make a note to pay more attention to random thoughts of extreme violence. For now, you satisfy this urge by furiously impaling the thing in its almost-face. Repeatedly. And with gusto. The poor woman does not take this action gracefully. The throaty gurgle cranks up into a gasping roar.

She attacks erratically, swinging her arms at your face and trying to tackle you. The knife-in-head dance is taking its toll, though. She is slowing noticeably. You raise the knife up, ready to go again, but she has backed against the wall.

And it doesn't look like she'll be coming in for another go. A strangled sigh signals an end to her thrashings. She crumples to the floor. What the actual fuck is going on here.

The glow from your watch allows you to pick carefully around the room. One eye always on the girl, you look about. It's a warehouse of some kind. There are piles of lumber all over. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust. And a jawless, eyeless woman just assaulted you. Yeah, everything is just about right. You can't help but think it's a bad dream of some kind.

The dust is disturbed off toward the left, where the girl came from probably. To the right is a large shutter marked loading/unloading.

>Deep breath. Calm down. What now?

>>20310219

Stab her head a few times just to be sure

>>20310219
Wipe the blood off the blade, go back into the other room and grab the mini-suitcase and pills.

>>20310219
Face where the dust was disturbed: knife ready and using the watch's glow for light
I slowly back up towards the shutter
Since my watch probably already gave away my position to whatever's there, I ask if anyone's there

>>20310313
Press ear against loading bay doors and try to hear something outside.

this
>>20310290
then this:
>>20310305
Like this:
>>20310313

>>20310364
This guy has it right, do these in that order.

>>20310356
>>20310313
>>20310305
>>20310290
Right. Time to vacate. You give Ms. Gurgle a courtesy stab just to be sure she stays down, making sure to wipe the knife on a relatively clean portion of her blouse. You also check your inventory to make sure nothing was lost in the tussle. That done, you announce to the semi-darkness that if anyone's hiding, come on out. The darkness responds with mocking silence.

Still not one to trust an apparently empty room, you back slowly towards the shutter. Luckily the room stays quiet. Lucky for it, more like. Carefully putting an ear to the unloading bay, you take a listen.

The rain has gone up a notch outside. The steady drizzle has become a good pour now. But aside from that, you hear nothing.

The door control is as dusty as anything else here. And totally unresponsive.

>Next action?

We should probably look into the area the woman came from before opening any large doors.

>>20310551
I slowly make my way around the warehouse, hugging the wall, hoping to either find something to turn the lights on or another way out

>>20310551
well, seeing as the door control is unresponsive... search for any more rooms/doors. Or try using no-face as a battering ram on the door.

rolled 6 = 6

>>20310551
Use Nofaec as a battering ram.

>>20310666
>>20310664
Might as well stay a while if you can't really go anywhere, right? Taking your time you carefully follow the wall toward the back. A forklift catches you off guard, but you avoid any serious damage.

Making sure to avoid the corpse you shuffle into a small corridor. The lights actually work back here, too. It leads to a door marked 'shipping', and branches off in either direction. The left branch leads to an emergency exit. The right leads off around another corner.

The relative silence is broken by a resounding crash. The car has just reniunced its ceiling space. Forcefully.

>So many choices.

>>20310873
I suppose let's see in what world we live in now. Emergency exit.

>>20310873
Let's go ahead and get out, Emergency Exit.

>>20310873
see what's in the car

>>20310873
I am very curious about the loud crash...but my instinct tells me to get the fuck out, emergency exit it is!

bumping

Bump

>>20310722
>>20310821
Another idea pops into your head. Crazy? Maybe. Gruesome? A little. Unhygienic? Wipes would be nice. But still, your options aren't that great here.

Or, y'know, the frighteningly convenient exit door. There's always that. Heh.

The door itself is the usual fare. Not like you were expecting anything special, but hey, it's been a crazy day. Or night. Whatever. You tighten up the straps on the pack and fearlessly take hold of your freedom.

The rain is coming down hard still. But not so hard that you can't see anything. The beautiful environment of a side alley greets your senses. After your musty debacle inside, it is a bit much. At least you're alone.

You recover some semblance of dignity and move on toward the street. Really, after stabbing an abomination of human flesh, this shouldn't be so bad. The buildings here are tall. Really tall. You're walking among skyscrapers.

How the hell did you manage to drive a car into a skylight? Oh wait. Maybe you didn't. Damn amnesia. Besides being oddly huge, the city street is oddly quiet. You know about cities. Bright lights. Hustle and bustle. Not this. Too quiet. Too dark. And with only a few people shuffling arou-

Oh yeah, shit.

Retreating a little back into the alley, you carefully observe the rather macabre street walkers. All manner of nightmare haunts wander these desolate streets, apparently. People without legs, arms, that guy is dragging most of his torso along the ground. Yeesh. The almost complete lack of light does nothing for the atmosphere, really. A street sign proclaims this to be Scent Avenue. Your nostrils can only agree. The street extends to either side. A news stand is just close enough to be boldly strolled up to. Some shops litter the opposite wall of buildings, dark but inviting.

>Well, there are popular entertainment references walking around everywhere. What now?

>>20311187
considering the horrors in front of me, go back into the building and look in the car. At the very least try to get to the roof for a better view.

>>20311234
Supporting this,

>>20311234
Also supporting this

>>20311234
Best option

>>20311234
This

>>20311370
>>20311305
>>20311293
>>20311234
You take a moment and let the sights sink in. Another a moment. A third, for good measure. No, nothing has changed. This is still as sanity testing as before. With barely a whisper you nope right the fuck back into that building. The car is calling. Can't keep her waiting.

Not much has changed inside. Still dark. Dusty. Slightly corpse-ridden. The closet you found yourself in, though, has gotten quite a bit more cramped. A car fully entering via skylight can do that sometimes. Even with a pulverized front end you can tell she was a sleek little number. Nimble too, seeing as you...or someone else...coaxed her into a skylight.

The front seats are in pretty good shape, the glovebox is dented but intact, and there are three parking tickets folded up next to the seat made out to John Doe, Rand O'Malley, and Guy Brush respectively.

>Fascinating. Your move.

>>20311601
>>20311601
Check if face girl is still where she should be.

>>20311601
Hey, you used my last name!
Anyway, anything in the interior?

>>20311601

Pop the trunk, inspect.

>>20311601
check under the seats for anything

>>20311601
check the glovebox, trunk, under the seats, and if it has one, those little center storage things that serve as an armrest between the driver and person riding shotgun.

rolled 23 = 23

check everything about the car, trunk, glove box, arm rest compartment

Also, if we didn't, close the door that we let Ms. NoJaw McGraw in. Then, find a nice place to hunker down for the night...... see if we can remember anything about the note. It obviously has Hazmat ____ one do____ don't get bit and if we do don't forget the gi____

the pills are a gift, a cure of infection

>>20311692
>>20311675
>>20311658
>>20311652
>>20311641
You begin an in-depth inspection of all nooks and crannies remotely accessible on this poor car. Armrest-thingy compartment reveals a smal collection of metal cubes. These are promptly scanned by your watch, which displays 850cr before flashing back to the time/day. The cubes collapse into squares, folding into the watch. Interesting.

The trunk is next, since it's relatively unobstructed. The car's plates are absent. Lucky you. It is devoid of any identifying marks, really. A useful thing in your line of work, surely. If it's yours. Gods damn amnesia. On to business. The trunk contains...several lengths of cord, duct tape, and handcuffs. Kinky. No, wait. What in the hell was going on here.

The glove box holds a bit of psychological help, at least. No seriously, it's one of those stress relief balls. Wonderful. All that is nice and all, but there are more pressing matters. You were busy laying these items out one by one so you easily could have missed it. Really, the cord was quite enthralling. And that duct tape. It was hard to look away. But that doesn't change the fact that your jaw-impaired friend is missing. And that large smear of blood leading up the wall isn't helping.

>Shit.

rolled 41 = 41

>>20312107
I could see the beginning of the note saying trust no one, but right now, we have more pressing matters, HOW THE FUCK DID THAT THING MOVE TO THE ROOF, wait, look around, walk back to the hallway, where there is light. See if there is any other rooms in the hallway we can get into. Also, close the door to the closet/storage room to the hallway. See if we can barricade it.

>>20312107
oh sweet Odin, figure out what those watch cubes do quickly!

>>20307722

>Who the hell are you? Maybe some voices in your head will roll d20s and scream out these details. Sure would be helpful.

Ok, I don't actually care about this quest because I'm crashing now, but that has to be the best opening line for any quest thread ever.

>>20312107
Pick up the stressball and absentmindedly start squeezing it like our life depended on it, follow the blood trail with or eyes, and ready knife.

>>20312107
OOC: What kind of cord is it? Like 550 cord (see pic) or something like traditional braided rope? It matters.

IC: Hold on to the handcuffs in left hand, knife in right (assuming our character is right-handed) back into a corner and stay as low and quiet as possible, looking around, and, considering the blood, up.

File: 1344920838291.jpg-(37 KB, 220x396, 220px-Paracord-Commercial(...).jpg)

>>20312278
whoops. picture didn't load

LIIIIIVVVEEEE.... LIIIIIIIIVVVVEEEEE

Damn it don't die!!! I'm emotionaly invested!

F5'ing like a motherfucker.

>>20312188
>>20312171
>>20312168
Well things were going swimmingly thus far. Wake up. Get attacked. Stab repeatedly. End of story.

If only.

The stress ball is really nice. It takes a bit of the oh-shit-oh-shit-it-isn't-dead feeling away. And those cubes were really interesting. Wonder what they do. Focus dammit. Dead jawless girl on the move. Hey, there's a thought. Movement.

And you're off with spring in your step. You follow the blood trail up as far as you can with your eyes, but it stretches too far into the darkness. Moving on. Back to the hallway. Good. And you even snagged a board to shove up into the door. What proactive thinking.

Now if only the glorious safety of fluorescent lighting hadn't just cut off. And the crash of a closing emergency exit door. Can't forget about that.

At least the rain has calmed down enough to hear the scraping sound echoing through the hall. The glow of your watch reveals a slightly different paintjob on the ceiling than previously thought. Come on.

Your feet barely touch the floor as you rush back to the intersection. A quick twist shows that the door marked shipping is open. But there's still that corner leading away...

>Options?

>>20312278
>>20312285
That kind of cord, yes. Not braided rope.

>>20312562
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Fuck it, lets go away from the shipping door. No good can come of going in there. Why did the lights go out? Fuck,

>>20312562
Even if one door is barricaded, this building is still a death trap. Move quickly but carefully, basically a fast walk to the open shipping door. Gotta relocate.

>>20312562
I don' know but we need to find whatever fucked up deity runs this hell hole and punch it in the throat.

>>20312630
This, I would have been okay to hole up a little if it were just zombies, but now I don't even know what the fuck we are dealing with. All I got right now is a whole can o' NOPENOPENOPENOPE

>>20312681
Same

>>20312689
>>20312681
>>20312630
Why can't dead people that you kill stay dead? No, that's a horrible mantra. Maybe something more upbeat. Maybe later, when you're not tactically fleeing for your life.

You're through the shipping door in a moment. It seems to be an office of some sort. Cubicles, computers, the whole nine yards. Interesting ambience too. Kind of a choked, gurgling loop and oh yeah the power's out that isn't office music.

A careful eye on the ceiling reveals those telltale streaks, if you needed anymore proof. She's in here. Somewhere. You ready the stress ball for action, tightening your grip...shit, knife too.

The gasping gurgle is replaced by a slow scraping noise. Did that ceiling fan just move? There, the office chair?! Damn it, where is she. A slight whisper of air brushes your neck. That smell fils your senses. One chance.

>1d20 avoid horrible jawless doom

rolled 14 = 14

LET'S DO THIS

rolled 17 = 17

>>20313022
OH DEAR GOD ROLLING FOR STABBING AND NOPING

rolled 11 = 11

>>20313022

BRING IT ON, JAWLESS CORPSE!!!

>>20313055
NOT TODAY MOTHERFUCKER.

You are out of there. And you get a good look at that dead woman that you killed. She is suspended from the ceiling by tendrils of some sort; they branch out of her neck and coil up out of sight, into the darkness. Still very jawless, she does have a few upgrades. Wicked claws tip her arms and a needle-like tongue stabs the air where you were just moments before.

Not one to waste an opening you duck in for a quick jab with your knife. Your watch is going ballistic with all kinds of beeps and flashes but there is stabbing to be done.

>Her head is still full of holes, so that obviously wasn't as effective as you had hoped. Where do you stab it?

rolled 18 = 18

>>20313315
GRAB THAT TONGUE AND SLICE IT OFF, then proceed to nope the fuck out while trying to see what the fuck is going on with the watch, jesus christ, what did we get ourselves into before we lost most of our memory

>>20313315
The chest! No less than 37 times!

>>20313315
Nowhere. If she has tendrils, arm claws and a goddamn needle tongue, it'd be downright retarded to get in close with no-face.

rolled 9 = 9

>>20313315

AIM FOR THE LIMBS!! Or in this case her tendrils, since this is giving her a vertical edge over us. Then slash off her claws. Then decapitate her. Then cut off all the limbs. Then make sure no tendrils are protruding from any of the pieces left, and hack them up if they're there.

>>20313315
No the watch figure out what it does it seems to sense the zombies!

>>20313357
>>20313352
>>20313341
That bitch tried to stab you. Son of a…never mind. You grab that offending tongue and slice it clean off. You prepare for a clean 37-stab combo as reality kicks in. Dead girl. Talons. DANGER. Once more with the slippery evasive maneuvers you're out of there before she can dice you up.

Dodging behind a cubicle you try to shut your watch up. Can't really hide with the thing beeping bloody murder on your wrist. Oh, that's interesting. Neat little hologram. Familiar shape, too. Why, you'd know those talons anywhere! Speak of the devil, there they are now, slicing the cubicle like warm butter. Very distracting, those. You barely have time to register the blinking red portion of the diagram's neck.

And then she's through the cubicle. The claws reaching for you. Tendrils blood-red and taught. Two more needle appendages have appeared in her jawless maw.

>Action time.

rolled 15 = 15

CAST FIREBALL

>>20313558

Slice off the tongue things, then nope the fuck away, and look around for anything that you could use to kill the hitch. Preferably something with reach.

>>20313588

Lol autocorrect censored for me.

rolled 3 = 3

>>20313558
Ok, so, cutting things off doesn't work.... Face stabs don't work. This bitch isn't gonna stop, and the fucking BEEPING... wait... beeping... HOLOGRAM. HIGHLIGHTED AREA! GO FOR THE JUGULAR!

>>20313602
>3
...fuck

rolled 7 = 7

>>20313602

AVERAGE IT OUT! AVERAGE IT.OUT!

>>20313641

Shit.

>>20313574
The hologram displays a clear message: insufficient cr for code-FIREBALL
>>20313602
>>20313588
More tongues, eh? You'll be having none of that. Some quick knifework sees them on their merry way. But those claws. Damn.

Still backing up, you thrust for the thing's neck. Now THAT elicits a reaction. She flies backwards like the knife is made of lava or something. Still unscathed, but wary. Was there something on her neck? You're unsure. It happened too quickly. But your desperate jab bought you some breathing room.

You search frantically for a weapon with more range. The knife is nice but something that involves a bit less face-time with her would be greatly appreciated. Unfortunately no real weapons present themselves. There are lengths of cubicle, a severed table leg, an office chair...none of it screams 'murder weapon' to you.

She is swinging sideways now, circling you. The tendrils detach and anchor almost too quickly to see. She could attack at any moment. And are those...yep. Four new needles jab eagerly out of her mouth, toward you.

>This is all well and good, but what will you do?

>>20313816
Grab the table leg and try round two of fuck the bitch's neck up.

>>20313816
>insufficient cr
>code-FIREBALL

The hell are we wearing on our wrist?

rolled 8 = 8

crudely sharpen the legs tip and throw that table leg at its neck like its a fuckin javelin

>>20313940
let's deal with no-face before we figure that out. All that matters is it's helping.

rolled 14 = 14

>>20313963

Javelin throw GOGOGO!

Oh, exactly how much of the 550 cord do we have? You said several lengths. Just trying to get a number.

>>20313963
>>20313862
Fuck it, a table leg will have to do. With a heavy heart you shove the stress ball into your pack. It has done enough today. Hefting the table leg you're struck by sudden inspiration. Taking the knife to its tip, you try to carve it into an aerodynamic missile of death. This does not work as planned, however. In fact you seem to have turned the leg into a splintery bludgeoning object rather than a javelin. Oh well. At least you'll have something to hit her with.

Quick as a hummingbird trapeze she's in your face again. This time, though, she's met with the rather adequate weight of a table leg. She tries again, rocking forward to meet your desperate blows. And this time you catch her a good one in the almost- cheek. The tendrils give with a flurry of snaps, sprawling it onto the floor. She's obviously knocked silly,

You make out the pulsing shape on her neck. Sickening thing, really. Moving in, you hope that this will be the last hit.

>1d20 FINISH HER

>>20314056
Twenty feet of the stuff.

rolled 15 = 15

>>20314185
Let's roll for coup de grace

>>20314205
TWENTY FEET?? You, sir, have opened up a pandora's box of possibilities for me.

>>20314211
It has really been a shit day. If jawless, eyeless women are the line, you'd rather not think of what this thing falls under. At least you still have the stress ball.

You give the table leg a flourish, knocking away the tendrils that reach up to attack. You raise it high and bring it down sharply on top of the pulsing mass that the tendrils are all connected to. Instantly the tendrils curl up and go into spasms. Before you have a chance to express dissatisfaction at this spectacle they dissolve. The main mass crumbles, leaving a small metallic glint that your watch quickly absorbs, the display flashing 900cr for a moment.

You are truly exhausted now. The time flashes up 4:28 on your watch. You've been running on pure adrenaline for over an hour. You try to hold on, stand up, anything, but it is just not enough. You crumple into the oblivion of real sleep, next to your defeated enemy.

>Where the hell are you? What the hell were you doing there? What the hell is up with this watch? What the hell can you do with twenty feet of 550? All these hells and more next time on...huh...I should think of name. Commemts, criticisms, etc. I can barely keep my eyes open. Till then, gents.

>>20314346
Definitely interesting. I'll try to keep the thread alive till you're able to function. And for the 550, you'll have to wait and see.

and now begins the hourly bumpings until OP gets back.

bumping. Unless someone else wants to take up keeping this thread going while I get 1 or two hours sleep, I really hope it stays up for that long.

sweet. it's still here.

>>20315525
>>20314892
>>20314570
>>20314373
Dear gods man. I meant to let this thread die off and then start another one. Thanks for bumping,.I guess. No point in wasting it. I'll continue here later then.

>>20315855
A vigilant's job is never done. Plus this is a really interesting setting and didn't want to miss out by not being able to find the new thread.

I've no idea what the blueberry fuck is going on here, but I think I like it.

>>20316669
It's pretty good. I have a small plan as soon as the story continues. If it works, the reason i've been asking about the 550 cord will make sense.

>>20316669
>>20316669
None of us do compadre but its awesome.

bump

You're in a car, flying through the air. You can't breathe. The jawless horror has wrapped you in a crushing embrace. The skylight is rushing up to meet you. You feel one of her sadistic tongues press into your neck...

...and you awake covered in sweat, gasping. Thank the gods it was only a dream. It had all been so real though. And your head still hurts oh sweet merciful fuck she's right next to you. You trip and stumble over pieces of cubicle as you back frantically away from the thankfully still corpse. Yes, your favorite stalker is most definitely dead this time.

You check the watch and it flashes up the time. 12:20 Mon. The sound of rain is completely absent now. It must have ended while you were out. So many questions flit through your mind, begging to be answered. Not the least of which being why did you get attacked by a walking abomination you had previously stabbed to death.

And there were more of them. Outside, walking the streets. You can't help the slight shiver that creeps up your spine. This is not a pleasant place. And you don't even know how or why you got here. Shouldering up your pack, you steel yourself for whatever is to come.

>The dreams end and the nightmare continues. What shalll you do?

>>20317456
before doing anything. Gotta get a better weapon. Do NOT want another close quarters fight. Take the chair leg and duct tape the combat knife to the non-broken end. And if it has one of those holes near the broken end, the kind they put a bolt or a screw into to secure it to the table, cut off about 2 feet of 550 cord, run it through the hole, tie it, then tie the other end around your wrist. No way we could lose it now.

>>20317456
also, you may want to use military time to differentiate between the time of day.

>>20317554
This sounds pretty damn good.

>>20317574
like I said, 550 cord made my day. Grade III 550 cord has a strength of 550 lbs (249 kg). Considering the average white, 29 year old male weighs about 180 lbs, we could easily use it to get off a building.

>>20317574
>>20317565
>>20317554
Screw every ghost and ghoul that could be hiding in every shadow. It's MacGyver time. Letting the sudden inspiration flow, you set to work. Winding duct tape secures the knife to the table leg. The bolt that supposedly attaches to the table is replaced with a two foot length of your glorious cord. New weapon acquired: TABLE LEG KNIFE.

As you work you wonder what time of day it is. No sunlight can be seen in this windowless office. And it was raining before. You absentmindedly remark to yourself that your watch would be a bit more helpful in military time.

The instrument beeps in confirmation. It quickly scrolls from 00:00 to 23:59 before flashing up 12:31. Well, that was convenient. Newly armed, you feel a bit better. Maybe everything isn't so bad after all. What could possibly stand against you and your table leg knife?

>What confident action will you take next?

>>20317776
Damn tripcode.

>>20317776
Let's head back to that emergency exit, see if we can get out into another building, hopefully with food and water.

>>20317806
actually, scratch that. Seeing as there's a reprieve, fiddle with the Pip-watch. Find out what it was. If it can absorb those cube things it has to have some kind of computer in it. Possibly an uplink to a satellite network.

Somethings up with this watch. Poke it randomly until it tells us secrets.

>>20317831
>>20317933
This

rolled 17 = 17

Execute code TELEPORT.SAFEHOUSE

>>20317951
>>20317942
>>20317933
>>20317831
Alright, this wrist mounted piece of metal is suspicious. Beeping and glowing and throwing up the time constantly. It's time you figured out what this thing does. During the fight for your life it said something about a fireball. You have no idea why. It certainly wasn't because you had screamed about casting a fireball in the heat of battle. It was a tense situation. You can't really remember the details. And that would be silly.

Another silly thought takes hold of you. No one is here to judge you. Why not try it? So with more of a question than anything else, you throw caution to the wind.

Teleport…safehouse?

A large X flashes up, followed by the words [No subspace active] and [Insufficient cr]. Bang goes that idea. Still, there must be something it can tell you. And so begins a few seconds of indiscriminate watch-prodding.

The assault proves to be adequate. Your touch causes a logo to appear. Fardtech Wristdeck. Sounds promising. This is followed by the words Welcome, Hazmat.

The screen changes again to show...um...well, they look like lifesigns. Yours, if you had to guess. Heartrate, brain activity, the whole shebang. A notice appears and indicates head trauma. No surprises there. There is also a menu displayed.

[] Call
[] Map
[] Photo
[] Notes
[] Cascade Ration

>Now this interesting. How do you proceed?

>>20318206
Oh look some anon psychically pre-empted my post. Weird.

>>20318206
Look at the map see if its a city we recognise, then try to call someone, anyone but the police, calling the police would be a bad idea even if they are not zombies considering we are likely a wanted criminal.)

>>20318265
This, then check the notes and photos. I see the word rations. Food possibly? Try that too.

>>20318206
Touch the buttons. All of the buttons.

rolled 11 = 11

Execute MANUAL

>>20318378
>>20318286
>>20318265
Call? As in, human contact? Sane conversation? That would be just dandy. You shove your finger into that hologram with the force of a thousand loners looking for social interaction.

[X] Call-error, local comm node offline for maintenance. Restricted to radio mode.
-Doll/outrange
-Raptor/outrange
-Titan/inrange/unresponsive
-Catfish/outrange

What fun. You seem to have friends. Shame they don't seem to be in a talking mood. Or rather, they're unable to. Still more to find out. You touch a return button and choose the Map option.

And up pops a...map! Cleverly hidden behind the map option. How dastardly. The map's head proclaims 'Dracon'. The name of the city? Anyone's guess. Scent Avenue stretches out beside a conspicous blinking [H]. A few blocks to the North, another marker blinks. This one a [T]. Curiouser and curiouser.

The Photo section is rather barren. Just two images here, as well as the option to take more. One is of a girl, blonde, short, with a pale heart-shaped face. Brown eyes. Eh, nothing. This amnesia is a doozy. The other is a picture of a building. An apartment complex, maybe. Big and dull green.

-continued-

File: 1344970976195.gif-(45 KB, 207x237, f5.gif)

>>20318691

>>20318691
Notes contains only one cryptic line:

Columbus sailed the ocean blue but Martha can beat him eighty-two.

Mystifying. This string of words also has no effect on your lacking memory. Oh well, on to other things. You select the last option, Cascade Ration, with little fanfare.

The display shows at the top [900cr]. Below this is a list of odd terms. Most are options are faded, and marked with [in-cr], but a few are still selectable.

[Ammo]-10cr
[Pizza]-50cr
[Purge]-150cr
[Blind]-500cr
[Stealth]-1000[in-cr]
[Fireball]-1500[in-cr]
[Teleport]-5000[in-cr]

>This is one swanky watch. What do?

>>20318834
well, let's go with 1 selection of pizza and 5 selections of ammo totaling 100 cr and see what happens.

rolled 17 = 17

>>20318861
We dont even have gun
Execute PISTOL.M1911

>>20318876
we could still use the gunpowder or the bullets for a diversion of sorts.

>>20318834
>Fireball
Must. Attempt. Fireball.

>>20318936
>>20318934
>>20318876
>>20318861
The fireball is a tantalizing option. Sadly, it is beyond your current resources. Whatever those are. So you settle for five units of ammo and pizza. Because pizza.

The watch beeps an affirmative and two things happen at once. A clip of five sleek, shiny shells slips comfortably into your hand accompanied by a small flash of light. And the most amazing, fulfilling sense of fullness overtakes you. The smells of this place, the taste in your mouth, the cold pit in your stomach, all obliterated by what can only be described as the greatest post-pizza feeling ever.

Except you didn't eat anything.

Which leads to some internal turmoil. On the one hand, you feel like you just enjoyed the greatest pizza ever made. On the other, you didn't actually enjoy the greatest pizza ever made. It is an odd pain, this. You bask in it for a few moments more, then snap back to reality. The clip you deposit into your pack, seeing as you have no weapon to load them into.

You quirk an eyebrow at the watcg. Execute Pistol.M1911? It flashes a negative.

>Anything else?

>>20319150
OOC: Are we talking stripper clip or pistol magazine? and what caliber? 9mm, .45? rifle rounds such as 30-06, 5.56 or 7.62? again, it matters.

IC: Take another look at that T and H on the map. Look outside for any landmarks that can coordinate with the map.

>>20319195
Stripper. And whatever they are, they are definitely not pistol rounds. These are BIG.

File: 1344974984163.jpg-(444 KB, 3949x865, 1335657090486.jpg)

>>20319238
Pick a number OP, because the size of the round determines how much powder there is and what could possibly be done with it.

>>20319280
>>20319280
My nigh-nonexistent inner /k/ommando trembles at your parade of bullets sir. This clip is also not of a rifle persuasion. The individual rounds are large and cylindrical, and don't really look like bullets. If dear Lawrence had to guess he might say they look like shotgun shells.

>>20319324
Sounds good to me. I'm going to assume they're 12 gauge since it's the most common. My pestering shall cease... for now. Just know that shenanigans similar to the 550 cord are brewing in my mind.

>>20319324
>Columbus
>Pizza
>Shotgun shells

I got nothing. Amnesia must really suck. And zombies don't help much either.

>>20319391
Well, notice how when he showed the radio frequencies, the only one in range was callsigned Titan, ours is Hazmat. On the map he mentioned a "conspicous blinking [H]". And a few blocks North was a building marked [T]. I may be crazy, but I have a feeling those are RFID signals. H for Hazmat, T for Titan.

>>20319195
Enough conflicting pizza feelings. Time for some action. You bring up the map once more and head back toward the emergency exit. The door is covered in anomalous substance; memories of blood red tendrils come unbidden to your mind. They are stiff and dried up, though. Easily forced through.

Dim sunlight strikes your face as you push outside. The alley is dry now, and a bit less nauseating. Scent Avenue is much the same as before. Though noticeably more devoid of those sanity-straining horrors that paraded about. Actually, you can't see rotting hide nor wispy hair of any abominable things. That's...nice.

The news stand is still where you left it, as are the those shops opposite. Without the rain, visibility has increased. To the North, according to your Map, a trio of vehicles lie dormant. From the South flows some good old swing music.

>Ideas?

>>20319616
Where there is music, there are women. Move out.

>>20319616
check the news stand

>>20319616
Go towards the news stand, heading in a northerly direction. Also trying to keep an eye on the rooftops.

>>20319812
>>20319755
I don't know what's worse. The abominations, the amnesia, or the voices in his head.

Regardless, check the vehicles.

>>20319616
Is the photo of the girl at all like the tendrilled abomination we fought earlier? We may have been sent to find/save/kill/etc. at the building depicted in photo 2 before the mission went south.
And did the car have tires or did it seem like it flew? I know the dream had it flying but was that because it was meant to fly or was it because it was falling?
Given how fancy the watch is, it's possible we're in some fancy futuristic time rather than modern day.

Check the news. Knowledge is power.

>>20319890
>>20319860
>>20319812
>>20319755
The music is nice. Sounds like the kind that leads to female companionship. Wouldn't that be nice. With a sigh, you head out to the stand. You try to keep an eye on the rooftops but most of them extend much higher than seems reasonable. The only roof you can see is that of the building you just left.

The stand is presumably a normal article. Though you might not be a connoisseur of such things. On to the task at hand. Right to the meat. The stand is still full of papers and magazines. Ads for new pieces of tech, blithering about celebrities, etc. A recurring headline stands out though.

This year 2122, the Bloom explodes across the world. Offworld ticket prices reach all-time highs. Protect yourselves, your families. Stay aware.

An interesting read, surely. Behind you the music suddenly stops. The wind whispers slowly through the streets now, without an upbeat tune to carry. The atmosphere is heavy with tension.

>As odd as anything else, you suppose. Next?

>>20319995
It had tires. And no, No Face had long dark hair.

>>20320132
Lets ask the watch if there are any gun stores or sports stores near-by, and maybe start walking towards the area of the map where the [T] is.

>>20320132
Be on guard and find out why the music suddenly stopped. Some monster may have attacked the music player or something.

>>20320132
I'm not liking the fact that the music stopped. Duck into the nearest building that ISN'T the one we started at. Fuck that place. Also trying to still go North to the [T] marker.

>>20320132

Let's take a few magazines/newspapers to read later more carefully.

>>20320132
>Music suddenly stops
Ha ha, time to nope.

rolled 7 = 7

Execute PLAY.MUSIC

>>20320335
>>20320299
>>20320250
>>20320217
Well, maybe sudden ceasing of music is a tad alarming. You grab a newspaper and a magazine before hurrying a bit farther down the street. You choose one of the shops at random and duck into it. Some kind of sweet shop, you notice. Did the wind just pick up?

No, that's not the wind. It sounds like...a giant carpet or bunch of fabrics being drug along the street. It's getting louder. And it's coming from the south. Long rasp, pause. Long rasp, pause. The intersection has to be at least 50 yards away. But it's so loud. And doing nothing for your confidence.

You tighten your grip on the table leg knife. It's no stress ball, but it helps a little. Maybe the watch can help? Worth a shot. You candidly ask it if it knows where you might find a sports or gun store. The watch blinks confusedly, flashes up [Data input needed], and reverts back to time/day. Lovely. The rasping grows ever louder outside.

>Any other ideas?

>>20320711

Probably now is better to stay down and let that... thing or whatever pass

>>20320711
>candidly ask watch
>it blinks confusedly
I question our sanity. Also hide.

>>20320711
Boldly step out into the street, brandish table leg knife, and insult the noise's mother.

rolled 19 = 19

Start playing music
Get in midlle of road
Shout "DANCE TIME BITCHES"
DANCE

>>20320891
>Cue zombies doing the thriller dance.

>>20320871
>>20320891

Nope

Let's just hide for a while, maybe trying to see what's the thing making those noises

>>20320785
>>20320891
>>20320871
>>20320728
Some truly entertaining fantasies float through your imaginanation. You're barely able to stop yourself from doing something foolhardy. Instead, you hunker down. There is time for dancing later. Besides, the music stopped. You'd look silly.

The rasping noise reaches its loudest point yet. To the south, you see...something reach a giant, wrinkled paw into the intersection. The beast attached to it is no looker. It has to be at least three times taller than you. Grotesque folds of red flesh spill out around it. Its face, its limbs, nothing can be clearly seen as it slowly crawls forward.

It pauses for a moment; the floppy mass where its head might be shifts, sliding in your direction. A heavy wheeze emanates from the thing. It stays still for a moment. Waiting. Wheezing. Then it resumes its crawl eastward. The rest of its body drags a bit behind. You can vaguely make out its horribly hunched humanoid shape as it disappears from view.

>Still alive. How do you proceed?

>>20321041
Y'know, I like this guy, he seems to be sane.

>>20321134
Ask the watch to identify hostile?

rolled 8 = 8

Follow it
Execute SCAN.TARGET

>>20321134
Well that sounds appetizing.

>>20321231
>>20321154
Well, that was a disturbing sight. How could it move with all of that flesh? Folds everywhere...blegh. You turn to your one true friend and ask his opinion. The watch blinks, beeps, and starts cycling through numbers. Finding one it likes, it stops and a hologram of the creature appears.

Form-classification: Shroud.
Extremely dangerous. Avoid at all costs. If confronted, stay of reach. Folds of skin are somewhat muscled and capable of movement. Has been seen lifting and crushing large vehicles.

Comforting. Maybe you can ask it to dance next time. With high explosives. You could only be so lucky. Back to the situation, the street is still unchanged. The vehicles have not moved. The swing has not returned. And the rasping is nearly nonexistent.

>What now?

>>20321726
Go find the [T]

>>20321726
>prehensile skin
>lifting/crushing vehicles

What the hell happened to the world.

Open helpfile/tutorial file on the watch, ITS GOT TO HAVE ONE

>>20321726
AND I'M BACK. Try to make it to the roof, and judge the distance between the next rooftop and this one.

>>20321726
While we're at it ask our watch buddy what the tendril monster was. That seems more like a common grunt enemy and we'll probably run into more of them while Shrouds are probably more mid-boss or boss level.

What about looking for some info to know exactly what the fuck is going on?

>>20322202

Maybe in a library we could find a working computer to check old newspapers

>>20322082
>>20322018
>>20321939
>>20321755
That [T] on your map has to mean something. The [H] seems to have followed you on your short trip along Scent. Safe to say the [T] might indicate something similar. Though it doesn't look like it has moved at all. Best to worry on the way. The streets are still clear, but after that shroud thing...you double check for any way to get vertical. No such luck. The sweet shop has no other portals, nor any stairs. Seems you'll have to walk the streets. Carefully.

As you begin your walk you decide to grill the watch some more. Does it perchance know what the girl last night was? Once more with the beeps and blinks as it processes your request, before another holigram pops up. This one shows the girl from last night, but fades her out, highlighting the pulsating mass of tendrils on her neck.

Form-classification: Latcher
Danger: infectious
Depending on the state of its host, can go relatively unnoticed. Attaches to any dead organism it can, feeding, growing, and eventually spreading infection. If confronted, severe damage to host will slow it. Damaging the latcher 'node' will kill it. If put under stress, may warp host body to retaliate/better spread infection. Consume antiviral immediately if wounded by latcher.

Oh. Well. You and her got a bit heated last night. Or this morning. Whatever. Lucky she didn't wound you, at least. You reach the Northern intersection without incident. To the east is a blockade of some sort. Looks military. The west ends in a large destroyed portion of street. Further north, [T] beckons from your map.

>How shall you continue?

>>20322493

I'm pretty sure the pills we had were those antivirals. We still have them, right?

>>20322493
>>20322493
Well if we're Hazmat and we're [H] our friend Timmy or whatever his name is is obviously [T]. He's probably dead. Lets pick up the pace.

go to the military blockade and see if you can scavenge any body armor or military supplies.

>>20322493
North is really the only way. West is blocked and the east blockade probably has military guys ordered to shoot anything or anyone who comes by to keep the area quarantined.

If north turns out to be a bust we can try to either sneak by or bluff our way through. Or maybe they won't shoot anything on sight, but with our luck we can probably assume they will.

Guys, i have this crazy idea. Why we had a bunch of pills (probably antivirals) with us?

We can be infected or something...

oooor we are some crazy motherfuckers preprared to be there and ready to get into troubles for any reason. But why we would do such a thing?

>>20322559
>>20322551
North seems like the best option. The blockade doesn't seem too friendly. Just big trucks and big guns. You can't even see any people. North it is. A few blocks in you see one of those latchers. It is too far to notice you, apparently. And rapidly shambling further away. It isn't trying to kill you. Ther's that.

Inside of thirty minutes you're on the same street as [T]. The watch flashes 13:13 Mon. Lucky numbers. According to the map, [T] is inside one of a row of buildings down this street. They look civilian, like a mini-suburb surrounded by city. All abandoned, but still toting little shows of individuality. And about nine houses into the row, a group of people have gathered. Some have even gotten so excited as to sprout tendrils and climb up the front of it. Oh, shit.

Welcome to Liver Street.

>This looks fun. How do you go about it, then?

Check the watch's map. I'm guessing [T] is throwing a house party. We'll it'd be rude to ignore the invitation, so let's look for a way around the back to join the fun.

>>20322978
Stress ball out, squeeze frantically, and check out the nearest homes I guess.

>>20322978

Maybe we can approach to see what's going on without being noticed.
Damn, i hate all this Prototype city

>>20323349
>>20323294
>>20323119
You check the map. Yep. [T] is dead center on the popular house. This is going to be a party crash. But hopefully, a quiet one. You retrieve the stress ball and start squeezing it for luck. Quietly you move along the street opposite the row of houses. The nearest ones are all silent and empty at first glance. They all have modest yards, but damn. How can anyone take living with a home crowded up against another. It'd lack some privacy, you think. They almost look like one whole building.

Focus. You sneak closer to the partygoers. There are about twelve of them gathered in front of the home. Another six have gone vertical. All are in various states of corruption. One of them, a bit cleverer than its brethren, has found a window. As you watch, it tries forcing it open. The ensuing explosion evaporates the poor fella and knocks two others down. Note to self: don't go in through the windows.

Aside from that sudden outburst, not much else seems out of place. Though from this distance you can't really tell much. Still, one hell of a party. Maybe you should've brought drinks.

>Your move

>>20323973
We need to find someway to signal [T] that we're here without disturbing the other party guests. That way [T] doesn't call a bouncer and have us violently removed from the party.

I don't suppose there's a VIP entrance to this party, such as a cellar or garage that doesn't have a line in front of it.

>>20323973
It's booby trapped and covered in infected. Rushing in doesn't seem like a good idea. Should we try taking them on?

Why we don't just wait to see if T can handle the situation?

>>20324184
Hell no, one was bad enough. And even with a spear I doubt we'd be accurate enough. We'd be ripped to shreds
>>20323973
Whatever floor that explosion was on, get up to that floor in the building directly next to it, so as to see a window of the party house. I gots me an idear.

>>20324184
I'm pretty sure our only party favor is the watch and I don't know if we have enough [cr] to share with the guests. Can Watchy give us a descriptor of our spells (?).

>>20324201
The problem is if T can't handle the situation we may lose him and our one lead to finding out what's going down.

>>20324242

But we can wait till things seem to get out of hand, and then get into action.

I wonder if Titan is going to be a huge guy or an ironically small guy. Codename like that could go either way really.

>>20324530
His real name is Billy and yes, he is huge.

I don't suppose Titan's cell is responding now. It'd save quite a bit of hassle if we could just RSVP to this party rather than crashing it.

bump

>>20324222
>>20324158
You look around, trying to come up with a way to signal the host without alarming the guests. You're not sure why, but you believe that [T] might indicate a person. Someone that might be able to tell you about this whole situation. You can't let that chance slip away. Unfortunately, there isn't much to work with out here. The street is littered with odds and ends but nothing that screams subtle signal.

Time to take chances. Crouching down, you dodge across the street. Good, not a single guest so much as twitches in your direction. The two fallen ones have even made there way back up onto the house. The house over, whose yard you are sneaking around in, has tasteful orange shutters, a blue fence, and is lacking a door. Seeing as the houses are shoved up close enough to be considered one unit, the only way to get behind them would be either through the home or going back down the street. You could ford the small see of infected too, but let's not be hasty. It does seem quiet inside...

Another explosion rocks the party. Whatever your choice, you might want to make it soon.

>What do?

>>20324935
>>20324935
Hold on a second I have a question, are we even on earth?!

>>20324935
go in the empty building and get level with the floor that had exploding windows and take out one of the shotgun shells

>>20324977
Now that would be something. This entire time, we've been on mars or something. Yikes.

>>20325166
My thoughts exactly

>>20324977
>>20324987
>>20325166
Time to move. You bound up the stairs and slip into the doorless home. Inside it's...a bit burnt. There are scorch marks on the walls, and what was most likely a kitchen is quite charred. Luckily it seems to have been contained to only this area of the house. The family room, stairwell, bathroom, and laundry room are all unhurt. You head for the stairs, wondering if you might ve able to do something with those shells.

A thought strikes you as you climb. You aren't exactly sure of what planet you're on. Interesting and definitely unrelated to the task at hand, but your wandering train of thought has a point. Hadn't the paper mentioned something about off-world tickets? But if not Earth, where else could you be? Maybe it says so...

Oh wait. That smell...still burnt, but more like a burnt...meat? And that shuffling. You're not alone up here. The second floor is a bit more disheveled. Upturned chairs tossed against the wall. Deep scratches in the wood floor. And the crispy gentlemen in the corner that seems to be crabwalking. Those tendrils coming out of his stomach are quite fetching as well. They'd get anyone noticed.

>Oh boy, here we go again. Action?

>>20325624
>>20325624
If it hasn't spotted us yet stealth away don't want to attract attention. But if it unfortunately has Keep the defensive find the re parasite thing, chair-knife the fuck out of it, while being as quiet as possible.

>>20325624
oooooh. That's a new one. Let's see what Mr. watch says about him. also maintain distance. If he pulls a human torch, that 550 cord around our wrist and table leg knife will most likely go up.

Bump

>>20325624
Let's gut this bastard. I wanna test our new toy

>>20325727
>>20325717
You retreat back a step, readying the table leg knife, waiting for the thing to attack. The offending creature crouches, springs...into the wall. It collects itself, repositions, and repeats. Huh. Seems you're unnoticed for the moment.

Might as well take advantage of this. You bring up the watch and see what it has to say. The usual light show is taking place. Covenient hologram and all. The thing's abdomen is highlighted in red. Funny thing about that watch. It's rather conspicuous. Really, would a mute button be too much to ask? Because now Crispy is dangling from the rafters wondering what all the fuss is about.

And he's reaching out to you with blood red talons.

>1d20 avoid end-by-fillet

rolled 6 = 6

>>20326362
caution is bad for you, i swear
captcha: pliapa 3 1/2 feet. not much of a dodge if you ask me

rolled 6 = 6

>>20326362
>>20326362
I don't want to die

rolled 20 = 20

>>20326449
>>20326471
Well fuck

>>20326489
Oh shit count that post!

rolled 4 = 4

>>20326489
THIS

>>20326471
>>20326449
You'd rather not get sliced. Really, who would? You decide to clearly mark this boundary by taking off his fingers. Smoothly done. Excellently stated. His rebuttal? Sliding his taloned toenails into your back.

Touché, crispy. Touché.

You smack the bastard away with the TLK and double over. God damn it pain receptors, life in danger here. What were those things, two inches long? Three? Okay, that might be an exaggeration. But still. Ouch. Crispy is at again, swinging forward for another go. Deep breath, fight back the pain.

>What now?

rolled 18 = 18

>>20326728
well, if the core where the tendrils and highlighted area are actually hot and not just crispy, like, center-of-a-fire hot, toss that shotgun shell in and take cover. Hell, I'll even roll for it.

rolled 20 = 20

>>20326769
can we hide behind something while doing this? if it's not hot though, how bout trying something a little more crazy. use that two-feet of rope to swing our blade at him while staying back.

>>20326838
It's more along the lines of a retractable spear. And is gonna be plan B if crispy is just that.

>>20326838
>>20326769
Fuck crispy. Payback time. Wait, he IS crispy. Maybe even...hot? Crazy idea time. Warding off the stabby bastard you flip out a shell from your pack. You wait for the right moment aaaand...there it is! A flick of the wrist plants that sucker dead center. You turn away, waiting for the booming report.

…hm…a bit quieter than you'd thought it be. You creak open an eye. Crispy is probing at the shell with one of his tendrils. His blackened visage twists down toward you. He's as impressed as you are with this development.

Just can't catch a break here, can you?

Screw it, berserker time. You back up and swing that table leg knife with all your might. It's an impresdive swing, all things considered. Nice angle. Good power. And, by some stroke of universal tomfoolery that may or may not be related to whacked out probabilities, it connects with the shell.

Well look at that. Things are looking up.

The shell discharges directly into Crispy's midsection, tearing him in two. A deflated mass of red flesh flies out and splatters across the wall. The watch sucks up the small metallic glint that flies with it, flashing 850cr. That was pretty awesome.

>That guy was a pain in the back. Ideas?

>>20327167
Well we should run, all the assclowns outside probobly heard that...

>>20327195
Nah, they're having fun at the exploding house party next door.

>>20327195
Right you are. Didn't really thing the shotgun shell thing through.
>>20327167
Let's put those 850 extra credits to use! Seeing as we now have a total of 1650 cr, and those latchers are probably on their way up, I'm gonna go with the stealth option for 1000 cr

>>20327284
But...but...fireball?

>>20327284
But how long does stealth last? Is it a worthwhile investment here?

>>20327347
From what the little watch says, those things outside are latchers, and highly infectious. It's been an arduous task just killing 2 of creatures 2 separate times. We're wounded from some crispy and don't even know what side affects THAT will have, and now have about 12 or so latchers focused on us. I think we need to hide. Fireball will have it's day, friend.

>>20327284

I think you're mistaken as the flashing indicates the new total not the amount received.

>>20327397
well fuck, right you are. then, run I guess.

>>20327347
>>20327284
>>20327232
>>20327195
Argh, your head is hurting again. Random words fly out of your mouth. Stealth...fireball...the watch once more flashes [Inufficient cr] at these utterances. The diagnostic screen is back up as well, flashing a warning sign. Crispy's claw marks give a none too helpful twinge of pain, adding onto the stress.

Oh, and the adjoining wall was just obliterated by three neat explosions.

From the sizeable smoking crevice steps seven and a half feet of bald, tar-bearded man. His left arm is a bloody stump covered in rags. He takes a step toward you, his ice blue eyes locked onto your own peepers. Then, in a deep russian grunt, he says one word:

"Haz?"

>And that, gentlemen, is where we shall be leaving our poor amnesiac friend. Tune in next time for more fun and other antics. Feel free to leave comments and criticisms. Be on the lookout for the next thread. I'm out for now.

>>20327524
I just found my favorite character.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/20307722

Archive up. Do with it what you will. Vote, use for catching up, whatever. For lack of any real title I just called it Amnesiac Quest.

>>20327524
>Suddenly, russian giant

I'm more than okay with this.

>>20327524
TIME FOR ANSWERS. Finally.