>>33799819
Oh boy, time for more disgusting suffering!
>Scream internally
>Scream externally
>Check status of apartment, Wendy.

>>33799819
Got a link to the last thread? Think I missed last thread.

>>33799906
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/33452270

This is #16 from about a week ago. All threads are logged in the archive (#1s through #16) if you need to go farther back.

>>33799963
Forgot. Again. It's even got a link to the archive in it....


You are Michelle St. Claire, and today...is.

You don’t feel well.

Liquid: 2588.90
Income: ~2200/wk + bonuses
Expenses: 5500/mo lease
Captive money: 10k security deposit
Twitter: https://twitter.com/WetworkIdols @WetworkIdols
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Wetwork%20Idols%20Quest

>>33799963
Thanks. Just missed the end I guess.
>>33799819
>Scream internally
>Count to 20
>Deal with shit

>>33799990
Whoops. Old version of the crawl. Should be:

You are Michelle St. Claire and today is.

You feel fine. Wendy wasn't.

Writing in like 10. Gotta keep moving, like a shark

>>33800280
It's true. Who knows how QMs die.

>>33799819
>>Do something about the smell
>>Other
Poke the Wendy.

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>>33799819

The scream starts internally, in your head, yelling at everything and nothing and all the things that exist in the space between is and isn’t.

Until you don’t. You pull the pillow quickly to your mouth and scream in your ragged, worn voice until your face is red and you’re out of breath. You throw it down angrily against the couch.

You’re too small to stomp, but you try, as you cross the space from the living room area to the bathroom on the first floor.

The smell is worse, even through the closed door. Eugh. You count to twenty as you wonder if she finally died as Karan responds to your command to unlock the door.

It swings open silently.

Wendy’s still in the tub. Were you the one who stripped her? Maybe she found the energy to do that herself. Her white blouse and patterned skirt, and her bra and panties are in a wrinkled pile on the dark stone floor.

There’s more vomit on the floor. You pick your way carefully across the bathroom.

Her head is above the water line. The water is only a few shades away from being as brown as Wendy.

Most of it seems to have sank to the bottom of the tub, but some float lazily on the surface, riding the small ripples in the tub from Wendy’s small movements and breathing.

Now what?

>Scream internally
>Scream externally
>Scream at Wendy
>Scream at Karan
>Spaghetti harder
>Leave
>Other

>>33800844
>Drain the water
>Start the water
>Cold

>>33800844
Going to go get a burrito from the drive through place. Should basically be enough time for everyone who will post to post.

Be back in a bit!

>>33800844
>Scream internally
>Drain water
>Start water
I'll go with warm myself, cleaning shit up > inconveniencing Wendy right now.

>>33800844
>Drain the water
>Start the water
Sure

>>33800844
>Scream internally
>Drain Water
>Start Water:Warm

>>33800844
What about no screaming in internal rage... Could it be time for cold passive aggresiveness? Yeah, start water... cold.

>>33800897
Ok changed to:
>Scream internally
>Drain the water
>Start the water
>Warm

>>33800942
Damn it's hot out. Back.

>>33801439
Writing now. Also eating.

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>>33800844

Cold rinse can wait. Unfortunately, for now, your self and squad preservation instincts have assumed direct control and pushed aside the part of you that thinks.

And screams.

You swipe a finger across one of the panels that actuates the tub and shower functions and begin draining out the disgusting water and replacing it with warm, fresh water. The drain irises open and water begins flowing out as the shower head turns on and begins spraying down Wendy.

The drain seals off again after a minute and the water level begins to rise.

The water is already a little murky.

“Wendy! WEN-DEE!”

Shouting is fine, though.

She jumps, limply, trying to bat at where she thinks the sound is weakly, barely able to get her arms even up to her eye level.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Michelle. What the fuck?”

“You threw up in my tub. And then threw up in another of my tubs. Then threw up near my tub.”

She looks happy. She smiles.

Fuck off, Wendy.

“We need to be at work at ten. That’s, like, two hours or whatever.”

Wendy either didn’t pay attention, or doesn’t care to respond. Instead she’s pulled herself slightly higher up with her arms and is surveying the damage.

“This is fucking awful.”

No shit, Wendy. No shit.

“Are you done checking out my tits and whatever, faggot? Jesus. Get out, I’m awake. We’ll be on time.”

>Scram
>Don’t scram
>Scream internally
>Scream externally
>Spaghetti harder
>Other

>>33802305
>Scream internally
>Scream internallier
>Scream in the innermost sanctum
>Leave
>Punch wall

>>33802305
>Other
Sigh. Walk out. Cry on the wall

>>33802305
>Oh, is that you volunteering to clean up then?
>Thanks Wendy
>Scram quick

Writing in ten. That was a tasty burrito.

>>33802305
>Scram slowly
>Acquire hearty breakfast.

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>>33802305

“Thanks for volunteering to clean up your own disgusting mess.”

You turn and leave, slowly. You shut the door behind you and manage to make it all the way to the kitchen before losing it, thrashing your head as you pound against the cold, steel door of the refrigerator.

You slide down it slowly, your clothing slowing you down, as you begin sobbing.

The air is warm down here. The heat exchanger of the fridge must face out.

It’s warming your feet.

You pull some fruit off a counter and try to eat.

You don’t feel very hungry.

You pull your way up to the island, eventually, and drop your head against the table. One of those disposable plastic containers pre-filled with some sort of cereal rests next to your head, opened but barely touched.

You can hear the shower running at full tilt. You roll your head over to the other side a-

“MICHELLE! MICHELLE!”

Guh! Your head shoots up and you feel the chair rock back on its feet.

Jesus, that was close. It’s a long way down, even being so small.

You get up without enthusiasm, and walk over to the bathroom. You shout through the door.

“What?”

“Hey, uh...awkward. I need some of your clothes.”

>What
>No
>Fine
>What?
>Scream internally
>Scream externally
>Other

>>33803419
>What?
>Fine
Get her some then.

>>33803419
>What's the magic word?
Well Wendy? Not so faggot now, are we?

>>33803419
Gonna head to sleep, thanks for running!

>>33803700
Bye! Thanks for playing!

writing in 10

>>33803419
>>What?
>>Fine

Why are the options pushing for screaming so much?

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>>33803419

“What?”

“I said I need some clothes.”

“Fine. What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck off, Michelle. This isn’t a game.”

“Say it and you get what you want.”

“Fuck you.”

“Say it.”

There’s a long silence. You don’t know but you imagine Wendy is sitting with her back to the door.

It’s a long, long silence.

That’s fine. You can wait.

Eventually, through the door, you hear a quiet “please.”

Satisfied, you run upstairs and grab Wendy an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She can deal.

You knock once and tell her they’re on the other side of the door. She doesn’t thank you.

Bitch.

You finish your small package of cereal. You’re feeling better.

Wendy walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later and says, “Hey, uh, Michelle. I’m...uh...you know. My bad. I’m going home now to shower for real and change. I’ll send my servant over here later today to clean everything up. Make sure Karan lets her in, she drives her own car. I’ll see you at the office, I guess…”

Wendy slinks out of the house after grabbing her bag and her heels. You can hear her car start and leave.

Alone, finally. If that’s even what you wanted. You check one of the many chronos in the house now. Ninety minutes until your appointment with Miss Nakamura (中村さん).

>>33804568
Go to a doctor. there must be a stomach virus going around if EVERYONE IS FREAKING THROWING UP.

>>33804568
oh shit I forgot to paste in the options. Wow. Hawkward.

>What now, Michelle?

>>33804640
Wendy was vomiting from the alcohol( poisoning).

Bad decisions have bad consequences.

>>33804645
We must go deeper. Start browsing image boards and start a quest.

>>33804645
Let Karan know about the, let's call her a "maid", coming by later and prepare for work.

writing in 10 or so

>>33804568
“Karan.”

She omits visualizing. Maybe she’s too busy for you.

“Yes, Michelle.”

She sounds uninterested.

“Wendy is sending over her...maid… later today to clean up. Please make sure she’s allowed in to do her job. And the food that was supposed to be ordered. Allow it to be delivered and have it put away wherever it needs to be.”

“Of course, Michelle.”

She sounds distracted. Whatever.

You climb the stairs and head into the bathroom, peeling off your sticky, clingy shirt, pants, and socks.

Gross. Gross. Your feet are still gross.

At least the water is hot almost instantly, the steam is quick to follow. You shower quickly, using the new hair stuff you bought with Wendy a day ago or whenever.

What hair you have feels nice. The new brushes work well.

Your face looks less greasy too. Maybe that’s just part of washing it all off.

Today is another day off. No uniform today, but you still don’t have much in terms of clothes. At least you’ve got a clean pair of cargo pants and another generic looking t-shirt.

Hmm. Twenty to shower, another ten for your hair and face, another ten to get dressed...thirty to get to the office…

You should probably just leave now. You can listen to your book once you’re there.

It’s an uneventful drive in your very plain, uneventful new used car. At least it works, although you’re still very nervous driving by yourself.

You park in the employee lot for the first time. A lot of these cars look identical as you walk through row after row.

There are a lot of employees here.

You snake your way through the complex into your part of the building, and eventually, into the waiting room of Miss Nakamura’s office. Her secretary signs you in and you sit down and wait. You listen to Detective McMann until Nakamura buzzes you in.

>[1/2]

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>>33805540

She’s standing behind her desk, watching you. She’s wearing white.

She waves you in and motions at the chair on the opposite side. She sits.

“Good morning, Miss Saint Claire. How are you feeling?”

>Well
>Fine
>Not Good
>Spaghetti harder
>Other

>>33805567
>Fine
"Okay, I guess? It'd be better if I didn't have to see so much vomit this morning."

writing in ten. seems we've hit a valley in terms of posters.

>>33806012
I think everyone went to sleep. Truth be told I'm feeling pretty tired myself.

>>33806305
Y'all seem to be mostly non-US. Not sure why. Pretty late everywhere that isn't here.

>>33806379
I'm Midwest, my sleep schedule's just fucked all to hell.

>>33806460
Nos hit your shit's fucked if 8 PM is when you crash out.

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>>33805567
>>33805567

“Okay. Fine. I guess. It would’ve been better if there was less vomit.”

Miss Nakamura raises her eyebrow. Less surprise, more amusement.

Is this entertainment? Sick bitch.

“Tell me more about that.”

“Wendy was over. Then she started drinking. Then she started throwing up. That’s when I thought she died.”

“How does this make you feel?”

>How do you feel, Michelle?

>>33806628
...I don't know...anxious?

Gets slow when the AU/NZ and EU crowd bounce.

Not sure if I should pause the thread until a bit later or just roll with one vote.

One dude who's here can sound off.

>>33806557
Pfft, I've been up since midnight. What is my life even.

>>33806628
"Worried? She's kind of my friend, even if she is kind of a bitch sometimes."

two is good e-nuff 4 me.

writing in like 5 or 10.

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>>33806628

You’re not good with “feelings.” Feeling meant you weren’t focusing on your job.

You squirm in your seat. You’re not so great at talking. Doing is better.

You shrug. “I dunno.”

Miss Nakamura’s face turns towards you again, hardening. “I think you do.”

You fidget more, your feet rubbing against each other in discomfort. “Worried? I don’t know. Wendy is half of the friends I have. When I saw her in the tub with a mouthful of barf and I thought she was dead my stomach was all…”

You run your hands over your stomach and work it like a ball of clay.

“We call that “anxiety.” Would you say that you feel anxious sometimes, Miss Saint Claire?”

>Yes, a little
>Yes, a lot
>No

>>33807378
>Yes, a little
"Well, yeah. But, that's totally reasonable, right?"

writing in 10. probably will end the thread in 3 or 4 updates.

>>33807378
>Yes, a lot
Maybe this is a good time to SCREAM!

>>33807378
>>Yes, a little

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>>33807378

“Some, I guess….maybe a lot. But that’s totally normal, right? I mean, there’s a lot of stress with this job…”

You feel your hands digging into the arms of the chair you’re in. Not hard, or at least not as tight as you have before.

Just a little bit of anxiety.

Maybe a lot.

You try not to scream.

“I see. A certain amount of stress is part of your job, as I’m sure you’re becoming well aware of. How do you feel you cope with your stress? Do you manage it well? Poorly? Your friend Wendy seems to use drinking as her coping mechanism. Do you think that’s a successful strategy, Miss Saint Claire?”

>Yes
>Maybe
>No
>Umm
>Spaghetti harder
>Other

>>33808362
>>No
it just seems to cause problems to distract one from the stress

>>33808362
>No
"Any strategy that ends with you covered in barf in someone else's tub isn't one I'd like to try."

Thread will be ending ahead of the planned schedule, because I'mma go see Guardians of the Galaxy with my brother.

I'll do one more update and then we'll resume where we left off next time.

>>33808730
coolios

>>33808362

You squirm, but more so from the scrutiny than any uncomfortableness with the question.

“No, Miss Nakamura.”

“Why?”

“Successful strategies don’t get vomit all over my house. I mean, it just...distracts her. I just have more problems and messes later. And she’s not even nice about it after...”

You kick the carpet, acting out a very, very old instinct. Something ancient stirs in your memory.

“And does her rudenes-”

The phone on her desk begins ringing, loudly.

There’s a pattern to the beeps. You wonder if it means something.

“Excuse me, Miss Saint Claire.”

Miss Nakamura keys a button on the hardline and brings the receiver to her ear, begin sure not to damage her nails.

She listens, and as she does, she begins staring right. at. you.

END SESSION

sorry about the short session today, guys. unplanned movie and slow day and everything. soz.

Anyways, thanks to everyone who reads here on /tg/ or reads later in their favorite archive site, and then double thanks to everyone who has the time (and patience) to spend with me here in the threads.

Follow me on twitter @WetworkIdols to stay up to date on the quest and what's going on and everything.

Next session likely for Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday of next week, but check the twitter for a more specific time.

Thanks everyone!

>>33809122
Thanks for the thread OP, cya next time.

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>>33809122
Forgot my image! Always want to try to get images attached to my posts.

>>33809160
Thread archived.

Questions/comments/concerns/etc can go here and I'll answer what I can!

>>33809122
Later OPFOR.