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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1380758073946.jpg-(887 KB, 2272x1704, cityscape_and_sun_rays_by_antiretro(...).jpg)
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It’s Thursday. Only two days until the weekend. Of course, it’s not like your weekends are any more exciting or invigorating than your weekdays. Your Volkswagen Rabbit squeaks as you come to a red light.

Going to have to get new brakes soon. Great.

You feel a rush of vibrations in your steering wheel and hear some kind of booming noise. It’s hard to tell if it’s a siren or some kid bumping up his bass. After a few seconds of the noise it fades away, the light turns green, and you head into work’s parking lot.

A day like any other: lukewarm coffee, jammed printer, a safety meeting at 3:15 – oh the joys of office work. You decide to take lunch at your desk, or at least you intended to. Your eyes wander to the downturned picture frame on your desk. You nearly reach out for it; consider taking just a quick look at the two of you. In that photo you were still together… a unit. But that was before the miscarriage, the lies, the affair, and you left her to live in that tainted house. You withdraw your hand and decide to head for the lunch room.

Patricia is eating a Cobb salad at the table. You were hoping to be in here early enough to eat in solitude. Looks like that won’t be the case. She happily chirps about her son’s recent High School graduation, the new brownie recipe she’s using for her Church’s next bake sale… You nod along politely.

“And really, the secret is to buy better waln-“ She stops, quite suddenly, causing you to look up.

Patricia’s face is blank, her eyes staring off in the distance. In the next instant you hear her exhale and she drops face first into her salad bowl. Her arms dangle off the table, her body slumps limply against her chair.

>Check to see if Patricia is okay
>Look for help in the office
>Call 911
>Other
>>
>>27540682

Check Patricia.

If it's bad, call 911.
>>
>>27540767
Seconding.
>>
“Uh, Patricia?” you ask, rising from your chair cautiously. “You, okay?”

Patricia is unmoving, her face buried in romaine lettuce, grilled chicken, and vinaigrette. You reach out and grab her hand, it’s still warm, but you can’t feel a pulse. Your heart begins to race; you back up quickly, knocking into the counter behind you. For a moment you stand dumbfounded at Patricia’s lifeless body. You fumble for your phone when your trance is interrupted by a shrill scream in the office.

You emerge from the break room to see the new receptionist (whose name you’ve yet to learn) hysterically screaming at the sight of a man on his stomach on the floor. As you approach you recognize the man as Paul, a coworker. His eyes stare blankly at a cubicle wall inches from his face. The papers he was carrying are scattered around the floor.

“HE’S DEAD!!” the receptionist screams, tears rolling down her reddening face.

>Ask the receptionist what’s going on
>Look around the office
>Call 911
>Other
>>
>>27540822
Call 911.
>>
>>27540822
>>27540822
>Ask the receptionist what’s going on
Dew it.
>>
>>27540844
>>27540854
Combining.
Writin'
>>
“What happened?” You ask wide-eyed as you kneel down to Paul’s body.
“He just – he fell over and… and and…” She breaks down into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
Try as you may, you can’t feel a pulse on Paul’s neck. Your heart is pounding, your head spinning. The receptionist sobs as you dial 911 on your phone.

“I’m sorry; the mobile network is currently under a heavy load. Your call cannot be completed at this time,” says the voice of a robotic woman. The call disconnects.

The secretary has her back against the wall, staring at Paul’s body and taking in short breaths.

>Comfort her
>Explore office
>Other
>>
>>27540950
> Comfort her
>>
>>27540950
Comfort her and get her away from the body
Might be good to see if this is happening elsewhere in the office too
>>
Rolled 2

You step over Paul and kneel in front of the secretary.
"Take a couple deep breaths..." you're struggling to find any words "Are, uh-- are you hurt?"
She shakes her head and bites her lip.
"Stay here, I'm going to check on the rest. I'll be right back. Just breathe, ok?"
She nods weakly, her eyes still locked to Paul.

You head to the back of the office, passing a couple of empty cubicles.

You come to the doorway of Marlene and David’s shared office. Marlene’s face is planted limply against her computer monitor; David is hunched over her, shaking her shoulder gently.

At the end of the hall Mr. Harris throws open his door.
“What is going on out here?!” He asks you, concerned. The receptionist is still whimpering out in the main room. David begins to swear under his breath as he shakes Marlene harder. Mr. Harris peeks his head in the door and takes in the scene. Confusion washes over him. He looks to you, mouth gaping open.

You wish you had an answer for him, but all you can say is: “Patricia and Paul, too.”

Mr. Harris starts, but is interrupted when the ground suddenly lurches under your feet. The whole building begins to violently shake. Frames are shaken from the wall, cups of coffee spill onto the dull colored carpet, a filing cabinet booms loudly as it topples over.

>Get under something
>Get to a doorway
>Leave the building
>Other
>>
>>27541033
>>Leave the building
Get the fug out of there, soldier.
>>
>>27540950
vaguely curious to see what kind of apocalypse this actually is (I hope it's zombie).

>Comfort her
>Other
Try someone else's phone. Hardly surprising our shit phone didn't work, maybe someone else's will.
>>
>>27541033
> Get to a doorway
If it's an earthquake, that's where we'd be safest. I think.

>>27541049
I think it's the biblical one.
>>
>>27541078
Now I kind of want to play this as our character being a hardcore euphoric atheist, and insisting that the whole thing is some kind of mass hallucination.
>>
>>27541107
This.
>>
>>27541078
>>27541048
Need some consensus here gentlemen.
>>
>>27541139

>>27541078
We read on the internet that that's the safest place. Smile smugly at anyone who panics enough to evacuate the building entirely.
>>
>>27541048
Doubling up.
>>
>>27541139
Woopsie, forgot me trip
>>
>>27541159
>>27541157
huh, deadlock again.
>>
>>27541157
>>27541159
God damnit.
I thought we had it.
>>
Rolled 1

1 - Go outside
2 - Doorway
>>
>>27541185
can't get fairer than that. But make sure to go outside in a very smug way.
>>
>>27541185
Writin'
>>
>>27541078
Funny thing, the first character we saw die was religious. I wonder if we just witnessed the rapture before the apocalypse?
>>
>>27541271
That's what I'm thinking. We're stuck on a post-rapture Earth, and shit's about to go down, Hellgate London style.
>>
You stumble out of the hallway and towards one of the cubicles. The severity of the tremors makes it difficult to walk. The building starts to lurch so violently, you fall to the floor, landing awkwardly on your shoulder.

You watch as the office tears itself apart. The halogen light fixtures begin to break loose and swing from the ceiling as the electricity flickers on and off. The cubicles collapse in on themselves. Your coworkers shout and cry, but you can barely hear them over the roar of the quake.

There’s a thunderous boom as a large chunk of the ceiling caves in. A piece of ceiling tile falls on you, followed by other debris. Dust spews out of the wreckage and fills the office, making you cough. There’s more booming, a loud crack, and the sound of shattering glass.

Then, after what seems like a lifetime, the shaking subsides.

You emerge from the rubble battered and bruised. Your shoulder sends a sharp pain through your arms if you move it too far and there’s a throbbing ache in your back where the tile hit you. The dust that fills the office makes it difficult to see and breath. A strobing light illuminates the particles creating a pulsing orange cloud.

>Check on coworkers
>Leave the building
>Other
>>
>>27541350
>Other
Ask if anyone is alive.
If nobody answers, leave.
>>
>>27541350
>leave the building
We really shouldn't risk getting more injured here
>>
>>27541374
Seconding this.

Really beginning to remind me of Darksiders.
>>
>>27541374

second
>>
>>27541374
Thirding (fourthing?) this one.
>>
>>27541374
Writing
>>
>>27541374
Fifthing this. In situations like that you don't want to be discrete.

I wonder if this quest will stay grounded in reality or we will see some supernatural stuff happening.
>>
>>27541436
>Patmos
Likely a reference to John of Patmos, who is thought to be the author of the book of revelations.

I like your style.
>>
Pulling your shirt over your face, you call out to the office. You think you hear a weak cry across the room. You try to carefully seek out your fellow employees. The floor is covered in debris and the dust stings your eyes. As you reach the hallway that leads to Mr. Harris’ office you feel water spray on your face. The sprinkler lines must have ruptured. The hallway has collapsed in on itself. Twisted metal, splintered wood, and drywall block your way and in these conditions, you see no way to get through.

>Head back toward the exit
>Try and get through the hallway. Others could be trapped.
>Other
>>
>>27541556
>Try and get through the hallway. Others could be trapped.
Nothing ventured nothing gained
>>
>>27541556
> Try and get through the hallway. Others could be trapped.
>>
>>27541591

I really rather get out... fuck me. I second.
>>
>>27541556
>Try and get through the hallway. Others could be trapped.
>>
>>27541591
How heroic.
Writing.
>>
>>27541646
>How heroic.

oh fuck, here comes the punishment
>>
>>27541619
Well, at this stage it's a good time to take a chance. We don't have much to lose yet and a lot to gain potentially.

It's not heroic, it's cold logic. Our chances of surviving are much higher if we are not alone. Besides, I heard human flesh tasted like chicken.
>>
You call out to the other side of the rubble, but get no response. Carefully, you grab at some of the wreck and tug at it. Pain rockets through your shoulder and back as you pull. You grit your teeth and bare it, but the wreckage isn’t budging.

There's another whimper back behind you. You rub at your injured shoulder and try to breathe through the dust and smoke.

>Head back toward the exit
>Investigate whimper
>Give it another go
>Other
>>
>>27541719
>investigate whimper
We've come this far
>>
>>27541719
>Investigate whimper
Try and save the poor thing or mercy kill it.
>>
>>27541719
> Investigate whimper
>>
>>27541719

give it one more pull, if failed then investigate whimper
>>
>>27541719
>Investigate whimper
>Give it another go
>>
>>27541738
>>27541739
>>27541749
Writeeeen
>>
You make your way through the main office space, tripping on a chunk of ceiling tile and skinning your knee. You curse and get back on your feet. To your right you hear a small whimper.

It’s the secretary. She’s pinned under a collapsed chunk of wall, sunlight comes streaming through the gash in the building. Her head is bobbing and she sobs softly, she hasn’t seen you yet.

>Leave her. You need to get out of this unstable deathtrap
>Help her. You’ve got to try and get her out if you can
>>
>>27541838
> Help her. You’ve got to try and get her out if you can
>>
>>27541838
>Help her. You’ve got to try and get her out if you can
>>
>>27541838
Help her, but I don't expect much. Her injuries have obviously made her deaf or highly disoriented as she didn't answer our call.
>>
>>27541856
>>27541857
>>27541875
What a compassionate bunch. That's good. Trying times are ahead.
Writing.
>>
>>27541838

help her if she isn't going to be absolute dead weight. if not, a brick to the head a few times to prevent needless suffering. we have a robot alien zombie apocalypse to deal with after all.
>>
>>27541912
>>27541913

that sure makes me look like a dick
>>
You approach her carefully, trying your best not to slip on the jagged rubble. She looks to you as you approach. Her blonde hair is caked with blood and her lip has been split wide open.

“A-are you ok, ok?” Her voice is quiet, weak.
“I’m fine.” You struggle with what to say next. “You’re going to be fine, too.”
“It hurts.” Her head slumps back down.
You pull out your phone and turn on its flashlight, inspecting the damage. Your hands are shaking.

It looks bad. Really bad.

Brick from the outer wall of the building must have fallen inside and landed on her leg, crushing it. A piece of metal framing from the ceiling has impaled her just under her armpit, staining her white blouse a deep, wet scarlet. The jagged piece of metal is still connected to the roof above. The girl whimpers.
“Am I going to die?” She sobs, then winces from the pain.

>No. I’ll find help
>No. I’m going to get you out
>I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.
>Other
>>
>>27541969
> No. I’ll find help
Seek some first aid kits or something. We can't move her, or she'll bleed out before we can do anything.
>>
Rolled 16, 70, 96 = 182

>>27541969
>No. I’ll find help

>Other, Find something to stop the bleeding
>>
>>27541969
Tell her it will be okay, and mercilessly end it. She's not going to live, and I'd shudder to go through such unbearable pain
>>
>>27541991
Look, unless there is a team of surgeon in the next room, she is pretty much doomed to die within the hour from blood loss. Even ignoring the chest wound, her crushed leg make her a pretty big liability.

>>27541969
We Pray for her. That failling, mercy kill.
>>
>>27541969
"Not if I can help it"

Best bet is to not pull it, not until we can find a first aid kit. Ask her if she knows where we can find one.
>>
>>27541991
>>27542029
>>27542032
Writing
>>
“You’re going to be fine. It’s n-not that bad.” She seems to notice your stutter. “I’ll find help. There’s a first aid kit in the breakroom.”
“I already tried to…to call 911.”
“Don’t worry they’ll be here.” You reach out and take hold of her hand. She squeezes weakly.
“Theresa,” She coughs, yelps in pain, “Theresa Spierling.”

>Tell her your name (Pick one)
>Say nothing
>Other
>>
first aid kits or euthanasia. fuck. at least we won't have to turn in that TPS report.
>>
>>27542075

Name = Adam, Rodger, Daniel
>>
>>27542075
Sam Grant.

Get that first aid kit, soldier, move it.
>>
>>27542097
>>27542106
Rodger Grant.
>>
>>27542078
I am starting to wish for the apocalypse now.

>>27542075
John Tolbert
>>
>>27542075
Gabriel
Kill
>>
>>27541969
Also, under which armpit is she impaled, her right or her left side?
>>
>>27542075
Christopher James Garcia
>>
Rolled 47, 98, 44 = 189

>>27542122
I like Rodger grant
>>
>>27542139
Left side. Metal is coming down from the ceiling, entered somewhere in her back, came out of her armpit.
>>27542097
>>27542106
>>27542122
>>27542162
How's Chris Grant
>>
>>27542075
Ashley Williams
>>
>>27542122
Rodger Grant sounds cool. Let's go with that.

Find something to help her with.
>>
>>27542194
I'm fine with it. I mean, a name's a name. Lets get goin'.
>>
>>27542186
>>27542122
>>27542097
Three for Rodger Grant
Writin' first aid retrieval
>>
Rodger Grant
>>
>>27542194
So its likely that any movement will rupture an artery and kill her faster than hmm, something that kills fast.
>>
“Rodger Grant,” you reply. Her grip tightens as a wave of pain passes through her.
“I’m scared, Rodger. I’m so – I’m tired. But I know, I know, I know what it means…” Another tear falls from her eyes.
Your stomach is in knots as you search for something to say. All you can muster is a soft:
“I’m going to get the first aid kit, I’ll be -.” She cuts you short.
“Stay. Please.”
She takes a few more short breaths when you feel her grip on your hand start to release.
“Theresa?” Your voice is so quiet you can barely hear it yourself.

You stand, eyes transfixed to the dead girl in the rubble.

>Leave the building
>Go get the first aid kit form the breakroom
>Other
>>
>>27542279
>Leave the building
We gotta get outta here man! We gotta get out! We're gonna be next!
>>
>>27542279
>>27542279
>>Go get the first aid kit form the breakroom
Welp.
>>
>>27542279
> Go get the first aid kit form the breakroom
We might need it later.
>>
>>27542279
Lets get the first aid kit anyway, for personal use and possibly as a trading token.
>>
>>27542279
Get the first aid and then get the fuck out.

This reminds me of Swan Song. Earthquake, dead girl in the ribble, all that fun stuff.
>>
>>27542279
Get the first aid kit, if you can, you might need it later
>>
>>27542295
>>27542300
>>27542302
>>27542305
>>27542311
Aid of the first degree
Writing
>>
>>27542279
>Go get the first aid kit form the breakroom
>>
>might need it later

we kinda need it right now guise
>>
>>27542369
Using it at this exact moment is stupid. We get the fuck out of the falling building THEN we use it
>>
>>27542384
ik, just reminding everyone we're injured atm
>>
>>27542400
Apologies then, i got that wrong.

OP, can we move our fingers and toes normally? Have we broken anything or is it just superficial?
>>
We should probably close the girls eyes.

Just for respect.
>>
>>27542499
Yeahhhh... nah
>>
You stare at Theresa’s body for few moments. You saw someone die before (your mother, cancer) but this was different in a way. Your breath doesn’t come easy, it’s ragged and full of dust.

You tear your eyes form the girl and head back towards the breakroom. You’ve got to crawl over a collapsed cubicle that shifts under your weight, but you make it there safe.

Patricia’s no longer in her salad. Her body is piled awkwardly on the floor, the remnants of her salad strewn about the room. The first aid kit was thrown to the floor in the quake, but stayed clasped together. You grab it, open it, and take a look.

Various sizes of bandaids, several antibiotic ointment packets and alcohol wipes, a roll of gauze, small coldpack, tweezers, and a pair of latex gloves.

You're an engineer, not a doctor, but as far as you can tell nothings broken. You pulled something in your shoulder when you fell, your back hurts a little when you breathe, but you've got good mobility in your hands and feet.

There’s a crash behind you as a halogen fixture falls from the ceiling. The building groans.

>Leave
>Continue searching the office
>Other
>>
>>27542435
I wrote that second to last part just for you, babe.
>>
>>27542525
>Other
Find a window to examine the situation outside. We need to know if it's safer out there or in here.
>>
>>27542525
Alright, we got the kit, now letz get da fug outta here!
>>
>>27542525

no, definitely time to leave. we have no idea what's happening, and if we're rping, our plan should be to contact some authorities to help whoevers out there. we shouldn't have really gone for the first aid, but whatever. time to get out, now.
>>
>>27542525
Let's get out of here before we die.
>>27542551
Unless we're more likely to die out there.
>>
>>27542525
Leave, the outside can't be more dangerous than this decaying death-trap we are in. Can it?
>>
I bet it's dinosaurs. You heard it here first.

Time to get out.
>>
no looking out the window, we're scared and assume that anywhere is safer than in the crumbling building. half formed thoughts of a terrorist attack on the building, whatever.
>>
You grab the kit, turn and head for the stairs. You catch Theresa in the corner of your eye as you clamber over the cubicle. The wall that collapsed on her left a gaping hole in the building, an unnaturally framed window.

It looks bad out there. Cars are scattered around the streets, windows are shattered on nearly every building you see. Some structures didn’t fair as well was your office and are spilling into the roads below them. You see smoke in the distance, devastation everywhere.

You enter the stairwell, breathing heavy. One of the railings has come loose, but they are otherwise intact. You’re nearly to the door when you feel a retch overtake you. You dry heave a few times, falling on your knees. You press your back to the wall and try to slow your frantic breathing. After a moment you regain your composure and exit to the parking lot. Where are you going?

>You have an apartment in the city; your personal effects and some supplies are there, as well as your neighbors.
>Your ex-wife kept the house: a ranch in the suburbs. Likely has more supplies and less neighbors, none of your stuff is there.
>You could search for disaster relief, likely deeper into the city.
>You could head straight for the grocery stores. You may need some supplies.
>Leave the city now.
>>
>>27542635
Outside should much safer, unless we stand around in a area full of sky scrapers after a massive earthquake.

We should leave to an urban area.
>>
>>27542665
Get out of the city, everything's going down.

It's happening.
>>
>>27542704
Seconding. Won't hurt to check if the groceries are there, though.
>>
>>27542665
Pass by our house, get what we can then go to ex-wife's house. Hopefully she has died too.
>>
>>27542665
small error
>>>You could head straight for the grocery stores.

No. Groceries are going to be litterally flooded with peoples thinking the same thing.

We should go to our house to pick up anything useful then try the ranch.
>>
>>27542665

rping standpoint - go to our apartment, it has a sense of security and normalcy, but it's probably is in the same state as the office building...

leave the city, very viable. I like.

ofc we still aren't over our ex-wife. we might want to see if she's safe, at the very least. as a bonus a ranch in the suburbs is a very different environment than a crowded dangerous city.

ranch is my first pick, leave city is second, third is apartment
>>
>>27542665
Get the fuck out of town. Its going to be mass anarchy, and we're unlikely to scavenge for much anyways.
>>
>>27542665
Head to the apartment to gather your stuff and check on your neighbors. We plan from there. If we come across any crashed police cars, search them for any protection, just in case
>>
>>27542750
I second this idea. A gun could be pretty damn useful right about now.

Also, what type of engineer are we? Its important.
>>
>>27542767
Mechanical.

i'm getting the sense that we should start at the apartment. Writing for that.
>>
File: 1380767320818.jpg-(1018 KB, 3000x2000, Keinyo-Studio2.jpg)
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You awkwardly drive over a pile of rubble – your hatchback wasn’t exactly made for off-roading. No matter where you look you’re greeted with visions of disaster. Buildings wear large scars, their windows shattered and walls collapsed. But what’s worse is the dead lying motionless on the sidewalks. You wonder if they went quick like the others or if they suffered a fate like Theresa’s.

There are other drivers on the road, but none that pay you any mind. The world seems eerily still. Maybe it was amplified by how completely chaotic it had been minutes ago. You had expected to hear sirens, police and firemen coming to rescue the victims, but there was nothing but a few distant screams and a chorus of car alarms.

>cont.
>>
>>27542871
How cruel to post this without the follow up
>>
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The radio station plays a siren, the kind they test every once-in-a-while, a robotic man’s voice says: “This is the Emergency Alert System. This is not a test. A potential terror attack and severe earthquake has taken place. Shelter in place until further instructions are provided.”

Your apartment building seems to have taken the earthquake in stride. You step through the shattered building door, glass cracking underfoot. There’s a muffled wailing coming from upstairs, but the rest of the apartment is still, as usual. The hysterical cries get louder as you ascend. As you pass your neighbors apartment door you can hear her tortured moans more clearly.

“MY BABIES!!! My baaaaaaaaabies—“ Her words trail off into a gasping sob. You linger at the door for a moment, wondering what you could do to help, decide there’s nothing you can say and cross the hall to your apartment.

Your living room is messier than usual. What little art you had hanging on the walls has fallen to the floor. Down the hall to the right is your bedroom, to the left your bathroom. Behind the wall to your left your small kitchen and pantry.

You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. The world feels like its spinning. Images of Theresa’s mangled body, Paul’s empty eyes, and Patricia’s lifeless limbs seem to flash before your eyes. You feel sick and out of breath. Suddenly, you find yourself in the bathroom, gasping over the toilet. You sit back against the tub and collect yourself. You need a plan.

>Take stock of what you have and hunker down. Wait to see how this all plays out at your apartment.
>Grab the essentials and head to the old house. It might belong to your ex, but it’s still YOUR house. You can stay there with her until things get figured out.
>Take what you can carry and get out.
>Other
>>
>>27542970
I got you, littlest son.
>>
>>27543008
>Grab the essentials and head to the old house. >It might belong to your ex, but it’s still YOUR house. You can stay there with her until things get figured out.
>>
>>27543008
>>Grab the essentials and head to the old house. It might belong to your ex, but it’s still YOUR house. You can stay there with her until things get figured out.

Seem like the safest route.

Do we have any firearm or combat knife?
>>
>Grab the essentials and head to the old house. It might belong to your ex, but it’s still YOUR house. You can stay there with her until things get figured out.

That's what we tell ourselves, but part of us just wants to make sure she's okay. Let's go, a country ranch is better than staying in this broken quiet city.
>>
>>27543068
Grab a big knife from the kitchen until we find something better
>>
>>27543084
second, or maybe our highschool baseball bat or 9 iron
>>
>>27543046
>>27543068
>>27543075
Loud n clear. Writing
>>
>>27543084
That will work, but we need a straigth blade. Serated edge can get stuck in stuff inside the human body.

>>27543008
Lets also make sure we grab
1 light set of clothes
1 heavy set of clothes
food, water,
something to defend ourselves with
Portable radio or somesuch
>>
>>27543125
You there yet, OP?
>>
>>27543378
Nearly. We're exiting the realm of prewritten, bare with me.
>>
You take a few quick breath and stand up, heading to the kitchen an pantry. You don’t keep much food in the house, a few staples and some liquor. Brandie always did most of the shopping and you just don’t have the motivation to get to the market most days.

A few boxes of rice-a-roni, some packages of ramen, baked and black beans, canned corn, some stale crakers, granola bars, and a few tortillas. Above the fridge, a half bottle of Wild Turkey.

Not exactly stocked for a disaster.

You head to your bedroom to change. Your shirt is soaked with sweat. You wince as you raise your shoulder to disrobe, the pain is worse now that the adrenaline has worn off.

You’ve got a few t-shirts, a couple of long sleeved thermals, and few flannel shirts hanging up in your closet. You never bought any of those trendy jeans with holes in them, so you’ve got a few sturdy pairs. It’s going to be getting cold soon, it’s early September and Ohio’s weather is anything but predictable.

Before you leave your room you grab your old softball bat. You used to play with the guys every season, but since you and Brandie split up… well you’ve hardly spoken to them, much less gone out to the field. You’ve also got a BB gun. It’s done nothing but gather dust since you moved into the apartment, but you grab it anyway and throw it into a pile on the couch with the clothes and food.

In the bathroom you open up the medicine cabinet. A bottle of Alieve, some Pepto, and more bandaids. You’ve hardly got anything more useful than the first aid kit, but you bring it with you anyway. You manage to stuff everything into a backpack and throw on a jacket, cap, and pair of sturdy shoes.

You pass the wailing mothers apartment again. You linger for a moment, its silent now.

BANG.

You jump back and duck down. The sound came from the otherside of the door.

>Leave, head to the house
>Investigate the apartment
>>
>>27543452

Investigate. She totally shot herself, and maybe it wasn't with the last round of ammunition.
>>
>>27543477
I second that. A real weapon would make us a wee but saffer.
>>
>>27543477

ye gotta get dat gun homie

also drop that fucking BB gun amirite?
>>
>>27543452
>Investigate the apartment
>>
>>27543477
Phrases like this remind me I'm on 4chan.
>>
>>27543539
better here than on /b/ where they would've raped Theresa's dead body.

Writing investigate.
>>
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>>27543539

I actually hadn't realized how cold that calculation was until you posted.
>>
>>27543549

actually... /b/ would have probably been more interested in suicide lady's dead children
>>
>>27543571
Could be cats, which is fine too.
>>
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>>27543581
>>
>>27543571
I don't know if /b/ would go that far, it's awfully vanilla nowadays with the "hip-n-trendy teens" going on that website "you've probably never heard of." /d/, however can get pretty weird. Dickgirls are just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg.
>>
>>27543630
>Dickgirls
>Just the tip
heh
>>
You stare at the handle of the door for a long time before you move forward. You reach out cautiously and knock softly.

No answer. But you weren't expecting one.

The last thing you need to see today is this woman’s dead kids and her brains on the wall… but you’ve seen the movies. People turn into animals when things like this happen. You just saw three people drop dead right in front of your eyes. How? Why?

The world is different now, you decide. It’s not about living anymore. It’s about surviving.

You turn the knob and walk into the apartment. It’d be nice inside if it wasn’t for all the horror and death it held. Two kids, no older than 10 are laid neatly on the couch, head to head. Their faces are blank and colorless. Kneeled in front of them, their mother, with a revolver in her hand and a hole in the side of her head. A crimson puddle grows on the carpet. Bile surges in your throat.

>Get her gun
>Check apartment for supplies
>Leave
>>
>>27543693
Get her gun then check the apartment for supplies.

It look like the children were taken by the rapture.
>>
>>27543693
Get gun, hold in the vomit, hold nose, think pleasant thoughts.
>>
>>27543720
what he said
>>
>>27543739
> Think of ex-wife covered in bees
>>
>>27543720
This but cover the mother's body with a sheet or something maybe lay her next to her kids
>>
>>27543693
>It’s not about living anymore. It’s about surviving.

Uh oh, I think we just developed our character guys.

>>27543773

Might be a nice touch.
>>
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>>27543762
>>
>>27543773
>>27543720
Got it.

>>27543786
Careful now!

Posting in a sec
>>
Your eyes fall to the woman’s face, still wet from her tears. Your vision blurs as your own tears swell in your eyes.

You’ve known the pain of your child dying. It was enough to send you to bars and your wife to another man’s bed. Some nights, when you couldn’t sleep, you were almost thankful that you had never known him. You know that it would’ve been more than you could’ve taken. If you had held him, felt him grab your finger, look into your eyes, heard him speak, seen him laugh… no. It was best it happened before you ever knew him, because you couldn’t imagine it hurting more than it already did.

You didn’t blame her, the woman whose name you never bothered to learn. You slip the pistol from her hand and lay it on the counter. She’s got a lot more food than you did. Chef Boyardee, chicken noodle soup, peanut butter and jelly, juice boxes, five bottles of water, and kool-aid packets. You might be eating like a ten year old, but it’s looking more promising than eating like a depressed loser.

The bathroom doesn’t hold anything more useful than what you already have. There’s some preparation-h ointment and rubbing alcohol that you take. In the bedroom you grab a sheet and bring it out to the living room.

You place the two boys by their mother’s side and throw the sheet over them. If you were a religious man you might’ve said a prayer, but you grab the revolver and go.
>cont.
>>
You get to your car before you empty the revolver. Six casings, five bullets. You went hunting with your dad a few times when you were younger, but it’s hard to tell what caliber they are just by looking at them. The base of the bullet reads “38 SPL FEDERAL” You slip the five rounds back into the cylinder and drive.

It’s a short drive out to the house. A few cars go speeding past you, flying down the tight city streets, dodging rubble and shattered asphalt. An explosion booms in the distance and you can make out the vague cry of sirens. The chaos of the city fades away in the rearview as you enter the suburbs.

The house is a light-colored single story set on a dead end drive. You remember buying it because it had a big backyard, a park down the road, and your wife loved the screened in porch. It was the kind of place you could see yourself raising a family. So much for that.

The driveway is cracked and it looks like one of the front windows shattered, but the house is more-or-less intact. You get out of the car and take a deep breath, stepping on to the porch slowly. Dread fills you as you reach for the doorbell. You don’t want to see her…and yet, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but wonder if she’s safe.

Three rings and no answer. You pound on the door. “Brandie! Open the door!” You try the knob. Locked. Your key slides in, but won’t turn the latch. Figures she would change the locks.

>Try and break down the door
>Climb in broken window
>Try to go around the back
>>
>>27543975
>>Try to go around the back
Before doing anything careless
>>
>>27543991
yep
>>
>>27543975
>Try to go around the back
>>
>>27543975
>Go around back
We'd probably cut ourselves on the broken glass if we tried the window.
>>
>>27543991
>>27544009
>>27544013
>>27544025
Writing
>>
>>27544025
more like we'd end up with our ex-wife sticking a gun to our temple
>>
You head around the back of the house and try the garage and kitchen door. Both locked, but there’s another broken window back here. Some of the pane remains in the frame. There’s got to be something you can use to get in safely. You head back to the car and look through the backpack.

You have:
Food
Water
2 Pair jeans
3 Shirts
First aid kit
Revolver (5 bullets)
Baseball bat
BB gun

Plus whatever might be in your car.

>Use tool to get inside (describe what you wanna do)
>Break down door
>Climb in window
>Search car for options?
>Other
>>
>>27544105

What happened to our cell phone? Let's try calling her too.
>>
>>27544105
Use the baseball bat to clear any glass out of one of the broken windows, that way we won't cut ourself when we climb in.
>>
>>27544105
Check through the window to see if the way is clear
>>
use baseball bat to clear glass/clothes to ensure no cuts
>>
>>27544117
>>27544118
>>27544126
>>27544132
Writing
>>
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You grab the bat and pull out your phone. Instinctively, you swipe to your “favorite” contacts to find a blank screen. You remember you unfavorited her after she served you the papers.

That’ll show her.

You scroll through and find her number and hit call.

“I’m sorry; the mobile network is currently under a heavy load. Your call cannot be completed at this time.”

With that you lose your temper and throw the phone into the car with a curse. You squeeze your eyes closed for a second and take a breath, letting the anger simmer inside you. You’re more prone to these bursts of anger lately. Of course you’ve been stressed and haven’t had a great day thus far. You reach back down and grab the phone off your car mat and head to the window. You use the bat to clear as much of the glass as you can, throw your jacket across the frame, and tumble into the house. You scrape your hand a little, but it’s nothing major.

>Look for Brandie
>Check the houses supplies
>Other
>>
>>27544230

let's announce ourselves to whatever might be in there, with our loaded gun in a nonthreatening but still alert position
>>
>>27544230
Check for supplies.
>>
>>27544230
>>Look for Brandie
But keep an eye out for supplies
>>
>>27544230
>look for Brandie
Or at least make sure the house is empty before we begin looting. Also if we find her body like our office friends we can rule out rapture - god don't take hoes.
>>
>>27544230
>Look for Brandie
You know that deep down, we still love her. Plus, we don't want her blowing us away when she finds us hunkered down in her living room.
>>
>>27544230
>Look for Brandie
>>
>>27544259
>>27544267
>>27544266

“Brandie! Are you here? It’s Rodger,” You call out.
There’s skittering to your left, something is moving down the hall and towards the bedroom, fast.

>Raise the gun
>Try and close the door
>Hide
>Other
>>
>>27544266
You have a point. If her body is like that, I would get ready for zombiapocalyspe.
>>
>>27544301
Close the door
>>
>>27544301
close door, raise weapon
>>
>>27544301
Advance calmly, she probably just got a cat or some wild animal got in through the window. We need to make sure the house is empty before acting further - I propose a room by room search.
>>
>>27544328
>>27544366
I'll combine
>>
Pat, what kind of physical condition is Robert in? I know we're injured, but are we very athletic? Do we have a very high bf precent?
>>
>>27544448
Rodger, not Robert. I'm tired.
>>
>>27544448
I got you bro. I'll add a little flavor for you.
>>
I don't get it...
This thread seems to be the first in a series, the style and quality is roughly the same as the one i held yesterday, yet this had tons of players to begin with... It did not start out any more interesting than mine...
Did i just choose a wrong time to make the thread or did you have some established playerbase to begin with?
Note: i am not saying that your thread sucks. It is better than most i see here
>>
>>27544474
You my bro, bro.
>>
You sprint towards the door, slamming it shut, and put your shoulder against it.

You wince in pain and recoil. That was your bad shoulder.

On the other side of the door you hear some light scratches and a small bark. Cracking the door open, you see a little dog looking quizzically at you.

“You little son of a bitch.” You find yourself laughing as you open up the door. The dog jumps up at you nuzzles his head into your palm as you pet him. You realize the gun is in your hand. You don’t remember taking it out. You check the other bedroom, kitchen, and living room. The house is empty.

You find the kitchen is stocked with a decent amount of food and the fridge has a big pack of bottled water.

You find your way back into the bedroom and take a seat on the bed. The dog jumps up on the bed too and noisy lays down.

“She lets you up here, huh?” you ask casually.

There’s a mirror across the room. You look tired. Your face is dirty and there’s a cut under your eye, but you hadn’t felt it. You’re 32 years old, brown hair and eyes, and tall. You’ve gotten fat. Well, not fat, but you’re in no condition to play football like you did back in high school and college. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re starting to look like your dad.

It’s starting to get dark, which is odd because its only around 4pm. The sky is full of dark clouds.
>Try and secure the house, do something about the broken windows
>Clean yourself up
>Sleep
>Other, or combine into a priority list.
>>
>>27544529
>Huh bloo bloo
>My thread didn't get attention
Sage for off topic. Seriously, do you REALLY need the attention?
>>
>>27544586
Let's get clean, don't want those cuts to get infected. Then we can do something about the windows.
>>
>>27544529
Tis the first in a series. My first quest I've ever tried.
I don't know man, I havent been here real long, first quest i got involved in was Tax Quest, loved it, was inspired, and thought this up.
This has been the first night I was free to run it. I had no established players, I'm glad anyone showed up at all and didn't name the character Dickbutt McAssfag Esquire.
>>
secure that shit
>>
>>27544586

secure the bedroom as best as we can and sleep.
i'm heavily biased and I know it because I'm sleepy as fuck, and I'm guessing Rog is too.
>>
>>27544586
>Try and secure the house, do something about the broken windows
>Clean yourself up
>>
>>27544592
>No, i just wish to improve myself. What does bother me, is that threads about f**king a lich has better ratings
also, clean yourself up
>>
>>27544627
>>27544623
>>27544621
>>27544610
Writing.
We're almost done guys, hang in there.
>>
>>27544635
No no, it's just, you REALLY didn't have to bring it up. Nobody's ON Midday, they have jobs.
>>
>>27544645
Also if it's not too much to ask we should get a dog sometime. Dogs make every apocalypse better.
>>
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>>27544586
oopsie forgot my picture
>>
>>27544676
Sorry, I meant more dogs.
>>
>>27544655
Midday equals 20:00ish, GMT for you? Also, i asked here because this is the proper place. It is a new thread, yet it has a lot of players. Asking what it is that makes them want to play here is the logical step to find the reason why mine was not deemed worth playing.
>>
Best to get this place bundled up, especially if there’s a storm coming. You head to the garage and see Brandie’s car is gone. Even after everything she did, the pain she caused, you’re worried about her. You grab a couple of tarps and an old staple gun.

Three windows later and the house is much less drafty. The wind outside is really starting to pick up. The tarps heave against the wind, filling and deflating like sails. But the staples hold. You grab a broom and sweep up the broken glass; you have to push the dog back with your foot a couple times because he won’t stay out of the pile.

With the windows covered and glass swept up, you head into the bathroom for a shower. The hot water feels good on your back and shoulder, but stings the cuts on your face, knee, and hands.

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed and hungry. Thunder roars in the distance. You head into the kitchen and make a sandwich, the dog begging the whole time. You fill his bowl too and head for the couch, flipping on the TV.
>cont.
>>
>>27544693
Just because it's the same time of day doesn't mean the same people are on. There are too many variables for there to be a direct answer.
>>
>>27544682
IGGY!
>>
>>27544728
I see... Very well. I shall give mankind time before launching the apocalypse.
>>
>>27544682
>TFW not a corgi
>>
>>27544746
I ain't panderin that hard.
Post coming up
>>
>>27544693
I saw your quest yesterday. You opened yours kind of blandly, whereas this one had a great hook. Also this one is written more compellingly. I just gotta know what happens next, whereas the only thing I remember about yours is the picture.

Now stop shitting up a good thread, take some notes and go practice in the writefriend thread.
>>
>>27544782
seconded

ps: OP, great thread so far
>>
A few of the channels are still playing regular material, but most have some kind of “technical difficulties” graphic on. But you’re interested in the news.

You flip the TV over to ABC and see the words “TERROR ATTACK?” in bold letters at the bottom of the screen. The newswoman seems flustered, distraught. She’s talking to some expert on chemical weapons and who could’ve been behind an attack. But the words fade away as the graphic changes to “Death estimated to be in the hundred millions.”

You stare blankly at the television as you try to comprehend the words. It isn’t until the dog bumps your hand with his nose that you are stirred. You watch TV for a little while longer. Deaths across the world, earthquakes that measure above 8.5 on the Richter scale around the entire world, the President evacuated, New York in ruins, geologists stumped…It’s almost 8 o’clock now. Brandie still isn’t home and the world is no closer to understanding what happened today.

>Wait up for Brandie
>Go to bed
>Other (anything else you guys wanna accomplish before you sleep?)
>>
>>27544806
Try calling her again,

If nothing leave a note informing her that your here and leave it near a place where she can see it
>>
>>27544782
>>27544798
Daaaw, thanks guys!
Like I said, it's my first time, so excuse any "obvious" QM blunders.
I'm not doing any rolling because I keep seeing everyone bitch about best of 3d100's and don't understand how dice pool works. So sorry. in the future, I'll have ya'll roll.
>>
>>27544806
lets do some hand-grip exercises and stretches for our shoulder, and get started on some kind of cardio, i plan on being able to run and run fast when the need arises.
>>
>>27544806
>Go to bed
Need to get our rest... Big day in post-apocalyptia tomorrow.
>>
>>27544806

food and water before bed, sleep with gun
>>
>>27544818
Why add rolls? This has been a blast. Don't fix what ain't broke.
Also I never understood why quest runners didn't just have the first few respondents roll 1d100 and then average the result...
>>
You take out your phone one more time and try to call Brandie. Same message as before. This stupid thing drives you crazy, but you resist the urge to throw it this time, wouldn’t want to scare the dog.

You stretch your shoulder out a little before you head into the bedroom. You left a note on the counter: “Brandie, I’m here. Don’t freak out. –Rodge”

You get glass of water and take some Alieve to help the shoulder, put some Neosporin on the cuts, and place the revolver on the nightstand. The dog jumps up in bed with you and snores softly. You wish you could sleep so easy.

But sleep does come…

And with it, dreams.

>cont.
>>
There’s a light. It’s bright, pure, the whitest light you’ve ever seen.

There’s a man. He’s tall, powerful. You can tell. He’s just a black shape against the light.

He’s looking at you. He sees you. He wants you. He can make it better, if you let him. You have to let him.

He offers his hand to you. He’s a kind man. He will keep you safe. Take his hand.

There’s a whisper. Behind you. What’d it say? You turn from the man and see faces you know.

Worried faces. Faces that disapprove. Your mother. Your grandmother. Your Cousin that died in middle school. Lots of faces. They are worried.

Worried for you.

He is impatient. He wants you. Now.

Take his hand.

Your mother is crying. He hates her.

Take his hand.

He is tired of waiting.

Take his hand.

He is trying to help you.

TAKE HIS HAND!

YOU STUPID ANIMAL!

TAKE HIS FUCKING HAND!

>Take his hand.
>Refuse him.
>>
>>27544952
Aw shit, we're a prophet with dreams/nightmares straight from the big man himself, aren't we?
>>
>>27544991
Beats me, man.

Was that a Take or Refuse
>>
>>27544982
>Refuse him
I don't think God would call us an animal, especially with the whole "made in his image" thing.
>>
>>27544982
fuck that
i got told never to grab a strangers hand
especially if he's much bigger and more surreal than i am
>>
>>27544982
refuse. Who the fuck is this guy.
>>
>>27544982
>Refuse him.
>>
>>27544982
>Refuse him.
Morning Star or Antichrist, we want no part in this.
>>
>>27544982
>Refuse
Maybe we can still save face with the big man if we play the good Samaritan in apocalypse land.
>>
>>27544982
I'll abstain from this choice, I don't know what to think?
>>
Back away. Back. Back. Back.

Into blackness.

He is angry now.

He is sharper now.

He is blacker now.

He is watching now.

>End of Chapter 1.
>>
>>27545057
I think we just pissed off The Anti-Christ...

Also great thread OP. Can't wait for Chapter 2!
>>
>>27545057
I'm gonna guess that old Luci disguising himself and playing games with us.

Fuck of, Satan.
>>
>>27545057
>smash cut a shadowy figure outside the house cradling an axe
>smash cut to credits
Someone get AMC on the line. I've got their new franchise.
>>
Thanks all you guys for a great start. I had fun, hope i did okay for a first timer. Thanks for making it great.

I guess I'll stick around to chat for a second or something? Do QM's do that? Anyway, what'd ya like, what'd ya didn't like?
>>
>>27545129
It was great dude. Keep it up.
>>
>>27545129
>Do QM's do that?

They do that, and even if they didn't there's no reason why you shouldn't if you wanted to. Anyway this was great, eagerly waiting for more.
>>
>>27545135
Thanks, man. I dunno what comes next really. I may not be able to have a steady schedule to do this thing. So I suppose I just hope you guys are on next time?

Also, does someone save this thing somehow?
>>
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>>27544982

He hated on our mother.

Fuck him.
>>
>>27545129

So what happened if we'd taken the nice man's hand?
>>
>>27545154
sup/tg/, go google it and then go to archive where you can see an 'Add Thread' button on the left.

Or just go to the handy link here http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html
>>
>>27545180
Honestly?

Game over I guess.
>>
>>27545198
Thank you sir!
>>
>>27545199
Huh, no wonder you made it so obvious that the guy was a jerk.

Anyway, good thread!
>>
>>27545268
I woulda thought of something. But yeah. good decision making there, hope that wasn't too railroady
>>
>>27545289
First thread, first quest, I'll live.
>>
alright folks, we are archived. Thanks for playing. Have a goodnight.
>>
>>27545385

FILL ME WITH YOUR DARK MAGIC


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