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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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First thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/35293868/
Second thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/35415269/

Class Roster: http://pastebin.com/CqeQiMDZ
Character Sheet: http://pastebin.com/1Ud33Qi1

RULES OF BATTLE ROYALE PROGRAM NA-1:
1. Students must kill each another until only one remains.
2. Every student is assigned two liters of water, a loaf of bread, and a randomly selected weapon.
3. Students wear a collar that tracks life signs and movement. Tampering with this collar in any way will cause it to explode.
4. The playing area is divided into a 10x10 grid. Venturing outside the playing area will cause the tracking collar to explode.
5. Every hour, one grid square becomes a forbidden zone. Venturing into a forbidden zone will cause the tracking collar to explode.
6. If no one dies in a consecutive 24-hour period, all active tracking collars will explode and the program will be declared No Contest.
7. Any strategy not violating the above rules is permitted.
8. Winner to receive a generous cash prize!

---

Previously, we met two of our three POV characters, Zeke Abergaine and Kay Maitlock. Zeke is currently near the southern end of the map, traveling with wounded soccer captain Whitney, headed north toward grid square D8 in search of his brainy best friend Quentin. Kay is with foreign exchange student Ntunga, hiding out for the night in the casino.
>>
Date: 1997-Jun-13 19:32:47 UTC +9
From: xxx-xxx@xxx.xxx
To: Glengarry.Lindt@xxx.gear
Subject: Program NA-1

Glenagarry,

Checking in. How is NA-1 going? It looks like you've already got some casualties.

Regards,
xxx


Date: 1997-Jun-13 02:40:12 UTC -8
From: Glengarry.Lindt@xxx.gear
To: xxx-xxx@xxx.xxx
Subject: Program NA-1

Introduction to the program went exceedingly well. Beyond expectations. The class was nearly as docile as Japanese students are. The new Gudalcanal collars are functioning to spec as well. We tested a spare when the school's grid went forbidden and it worked just fine -- very reassuring.

Yes, we have some casualties. Update your roster:

G16 Victoria Selwyn
B11 Dylan Northrup
B14 Kyle Phalen
G20 Anna Wallace
G07 Shannon Howard

The big names are still in play.

Sincerely,
Glengarry Lindt
Director, Human Resources


Date: 1997-Jun-13 19:45:18 UTC +9
From: xxx-xxx@xxx.xxx
To: Glengarry.Lindt@xxx.gear
Subject: Program NA-1

Excellent. If your students continue at this rate, the program will be over well before the time limit. That's exactly the sort of thing the Japanese benefactors want to see. Performance like this goes a long way toward proving out the sustainability of future programs outside the GEAR. Keep up the good work.

By the way, who got the key? I and the Japanese benefactors are keen to know.

Regards,
xxx


Date: 1997-Jun-13 02:40:12 UTC -8
From: Glengarry.Lindt@xxx.gear
To: xxx-xxx@xxx.xxx
Subject: Program NA-1

Thank you. I look forward to running many more programs in the future! :)

G05 Claire Galatea got it. She doesn't seem to be headed in the right direction, but we'll see. If she meets up with that boyfriend of hers -- and it seems like they're both looking for each other -- they'll be the team to beat.

Sincerely,
Glengarry Lindt
Director, Human Resources


>37 Students Remain.
>>
>>35761243
Oh fuck yes, thank you based Program Director. There goes my sleep schedule.
>>
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"Don't be so neurotic," Ha ha. Ma, you're killing me. What did I tell you? I told you that going to the Hoover Dam was a bad idea. Do you know how many people died just making that thing? It's major bad karma for sure. Now look. I could have stayed home and worked on learning Macromedia Flash. Now I'm here.

Don't be so neurotic. How about don't be so realistic, that's what you're really saying. My friends wouldn't have missed me anyway. And no I didn't pack clean underwear. I guess I should have listened to you on that one. Ha ha. Ha.

---

You are Adam Shakel. You are dead.

Well, not right now. Not at the moment. But your impending death is a foregone conclusion, right?

Felicity Township is a festering craphole. That much is clear. Oh sure, your map makes it look nice and welcoming. Happy little houses pushed together as if to give the appearance of high population density, modernity, urban harmony. But all maps are really a sort of advertisement, and all advertisements are lies. Truth.

Here's the truth. Felicity is a meager collection of ancient ranch style houses, spaced dispersely along a main road that could really use some repairs. There is verdure dotting the surrounding area -- what passes for verdure in Nevada, anyway -- lolling hillocks abutting the town's outer limits, covered with sagebrush, parched grass, evergreens and even the odd cactus. It's ugly as hell.
>>
Fuck yeah, Battle Royale is back.
>>
>>35761243
ia ia BRQ ftagn!
>>
Now venturing into town -- probably a mistake. Definitely a mistake. This is going to be one of the first places people come to scavenge supplies. But screw it. You were given a spork. Everyone else got high-powered pistols and rifles, you got a spork. Why even try to survive when the odds are stacked so high?

So you broke into one of these craphole houses to lie down and feel sorry for yourself. And God help you, what an awful place. And elevated porch with green felt carpet and plastic lawn furniture, the outer walls of the building narrowly spaced and made of tin. Who in their right mind would choose to live inside a tin box in the middle of the desert? No central A/C -- the interior is stocked with a single swamp cooler, which doesn't work, and probably didn't work well even when there was electricity -- you can imagine its obnoxious squealing in your mind's ear. Orange shag flooring sticky with crud, popcorn stucco ceilings. Abominable. People LIVE like this. There's carpet even in the kitchen. In the kitchen. Why.

You sit on an old sofa in the dark. It's weirdly musty in here, as arid as it is. There's dust everywhere. You try to clear your head and think strategy, but every time you do, a haze invades your thoughts and obscures them. If you want to survive, you'll need... water. Food. A better weapon. To kill. You'll need to kill. It's impossible to win without killing at least one other person.

Well -- not technically. Some other industrious student could kill all your classmates then accidentally wander into a forbidden zone. Victory by default. Somehow that doesn't feel likely.

You rub your forehead. The lack of humidity makes your prodigious hair feel dried-out and frizzed. Why are you thinking about your hair? Strategy. Right. You need--

You hear a squeak and click. Someone just opened the front door.
>>
At this point, I'll take a moment to let you in on Adam's stats, so you can make an informed decision whe the time comes. I'll remind you of our other two MC's stats, too, since it's been so long.

Adam Shakel
Strength 3
Accuracy 8
Perceptiveness 8
Stealth 6
Speed 5
Endurance 2
Intelligence 8
Technical Skill 8

Health 50
Adrenaline Dice 1


Zeke Abergaine
Strength 8
Accuracy 5
Perceptiveness 4
Stealth 3
Speed 5
Endurance 6
Intelligence 5
Technical Skill 7

Health 50
Adrenaline Dice 2


Kay Maitlock
Strength 3
Accuracy 2
Perceptiveness 10
Stealth 10
Speed 3
Endurance 3
Intelligence 10
Technical Skill 7

Health 50
Adrenaline Dice 2

---

Health cannot be recovered.

Reminder of the Adrenline Dice system, apropos of nothing:

>The Adrenaline Die is a single d6 you can add to rolls to help pass a difficulty check. You can hold an Adrenaline Die in reserve as long as you wish, but you can only use it once. You can hold unlimited Adrenaline Dice in reserve and can use however many at the same time as you please.
>>
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You do a sitting pirouette and vault yourself over the arm of the sofa. You hide in the narrow space between it and the back wall of the living room. Soft footsteps resolve themselves on the carpeting, and from the front hallway you hear the unmistakable voices of the "wonder twins" -- Boyd and Chelsea West.

"Check the kitchen." -- Boyd.

"Check the bathroom." -- Chelsea, at the same moment as her brother.

"Just what I was thinking." -- Both of them, speaking in tandem, their voices blending.

You watch from around the corner as the two split onto separate vectors, like an amoeba budding. Boyd turns left, toward the kitchen, and Chelsea right, toward the bathroom. Boyd is holding a truly vicious-looking crossbow.

You curse yourself for not grabbing some form of self-protection.

The living room sits toward the back of the house. To leave, you'd have to run through the front hallway -- right past the twins. If they gave chase, you'd be done for. Would they give chase? There are classmates playing this game, and enthusiastically so. And if any of the students would play it... you definitely think these two would participate. They've never cared about anyone else but each other. And these rather sickly, fey fraternal twins may not be physically imposing, but... well, that crossbow DOES look vicious.

>What do you do?
>>
>>35761803
>That pic
Boyds confirmed for incest
>Crossbow
Boyds confirmed for snipers
>What do you do?
Oh god, look for somewhere to hide.
>>
KayxNtunga lewds when
>>
>these stats
Without a gun, Shekel is fucked. If we can hide long enough they'll probably leave the crossbow unattended, then we can swipe it.
Why didn't this dumbfuck go straight into the kitchen to find some sort of weapon? At least grab a knife.
>>
>>35761803
We can't fight, running will be hard, and we're not great at hiding.

We can make use that perceptiveness and wait for an opportunity to grab one of them and hold them hostage with the spork to their neck. They wouldn't risk letting us hurt the other so we can get away with their weapons.
>>
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While we wait on a plan of action, here's the current map. Black squares are forbidden and dark brown squares are soon to be forbidden.

UPCOMING GRID CLOSURES

3:00 AM H6
4:00 AM F1
5:00 AM I7
6:00 AM G9

It is currently 2:34 AM.
>>
>>35761938
We're gonna need more than a spork. We gotta avoid their attention, then wait for them to go to sleep or have sex or something, grab the crossbow or a knife, and shoot or slit respectively.
>>
sporking them is surely the only reasonable option
>>
>>35762028
If you want to commit suicide, that is.
>>35761984
By the way, is the spork metal or plastic?
>>
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>>35762065

Adam is equipped with a state-of-the-art Berkley Square Medium Weight Plastic Spork. Key features:

-Molded from 100% polypropylene
-Bend-resistant
-Textured grip for non-slip eating
-Holds 6 mL of liquid
-Tine length 1/2" (4)
-Pearl white
>>
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Current class roster.
>>
>>35762005
A spork is serviceable. It would be really difficult to get at an artery if you stabbed them in the neck, but I dont think these two would want to let us bloody the other. If we need to demonstrate that we're actually willing to kill one of them we can always try to stab an eye.

I don't think staying hidden is a great plan for too long. We're a weak computer nerd, we'll have to shift our weight and risk making noise eventually. Getting proactive and taking on the situation on our terms is best.
>>
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>>35762130
This does not look good.
>>
Is there a window somewhere? Anything useful on the ground?
I say we keep hiding until we have a chance to either get away or swipe the crossbow.
>>
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>>35762130
>>
It will be easier if we just get a ranged weapon. Shekel has nice stats for that.
>>
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>>35762130
>>35762197
>>
Whatever we do, I think we might want to use an adrenaline die. We're in a really shitty situation.
>>
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>Adam Shakel

He's going to win and take the generous cash prize. It's all part of the plan.
>>
>>35762130
Will we get a new third character if this one dies this thread?
>>
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>>35762287
>Adam's face when
>>
>>35762210

There is a window along the back wall (near the sofa, across from the front hallway) which leads to a backyard surrounded by an 8-foot cinderblock wall. The only things in the living room with you are: your dropbag, the sofa, a coffee table littered with old magazines and remote controls, a television, an empty terrarium, and a bookcase with old textbooks on mining technology.
>>
>>35762304

I haven't decided how I'll handle it if/when a POV character dies. I have 3 of them for a couple reasons: 1) we can always have someone in the thick of action while the other two are traveling or resting, and 2) at least one of them should survive long enough to see the endgame, unless you guys make really bad choices and/or have really bad luck.
>>
>>35762352
Try to jump out the window.
>>
>>35762387
>unless you guys make really bad choices

We're doomed.

>and/or have really bad luck.

Doomed.
>>
>>35762352
Does it look like we can open the window quietly?
>captcha: topilest brick
I think the captcha is telling to arm ourselves with one of those cinderblocks
>>
Looks like the majority of votes favor either lying low or trying to escape. If we escape, Adam will try to leave quietly through the window in the living room.

>What do you want to do?

and,

>Would you like to spend an Adrenaline Die?
>>
>>35762258
>adrenaline die
this combined with surprise is probably the only safe option we can even net ourselves a xbow bonus points if one of the twins accidentally kills the other in the upcoming tussle
>>
>>35762449
Can we only to decide to use an adrenaline die before making a roll?
>>
>>35762466

All right. Our choices, formally

>[ ] Attempt quiet escape
>[ ] Hide
>[ ] Lay low, and attack the twins when you see an opening

>>35762480

Yes.

Also, Adrenaline Dice will be fairly rare to come by. You'll get at least one if you directly witness a death, and you may get one from other highly stressful or angering situations.
>>
>>35762449
>What do you want to do?
Jump out window
>Would you like to spend an Adrenaline Die?
No.

Is there a way to gain Adrenaline Dice?
>>
>>35762506
>[ ] Lay low, and attack the twins when you see an opening
Use the adrenaline die.
>>
>>35762506
>[ ] Attempt quiet escape
>Use the die

>directly witness a death
Does killing people count for getting Adrenaline Dices or do you have to be a third party to the death?
>>
>>35762521
this
>>
>>35762578

Yes, killing people also counts.
>>
This guy is so weak, need to get away.
>>
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>>35762578
>Dices
>mfw
>>
>>35762506
>[ ] Attempt quiet escape
Use the die.

The crossbow would rock but attacking will probably get us killed.
>>
Not to be a metagaming faggot but if we gun for the twins, it can wipe out a major threat for our other two MCs. They're the only two people we know for sure are "playing the game."
>>
>>35762737

Adam can't take them both at the same time. We'd be sacrificing him for nothing. The twins are definitely going to be a major problem but it's going to take more than a fucking spork to take them out.
>>
>>35762737
We can come back later when they're asleep and we have the advantage.
There's no reason to waste the die when quietly escaping.
>>
>>35762737
Zeke also knows about Mandelbrot and Sakura after the fighting in the clinic.
>>
>>35762787

Oh shit, I forgot about that.

To be fair, we don't know if Sakura is the one who started it. We saw her chasing Orin and Shannon but they could have attacked her first.

Shannon is dead now, too. So there's that. It's a good thing we got the fuck out of dodge when that went down.
>>
I think I'm going to go with attempting a quiet escape, no adrenaline die. We cool with that?

I'm going to need 3 rolls of 3d10.
>>
Rolled 4, 4, 4 = 12 (3d10)

>>35762862
>>
Rolled 7, 10, 8 = 25 (3d10)

>>35762862
Eh.

>>35762753
We only need to surprise one of them, not fight them both. If they think we're serious they'll probably give up their weapons to keep the other safe.
>>
Rolled 7, 10, 4 = 21 (3d10)

>>35762862
>>
>>35762875
Critical sneakiness engaged
>>
>>35762875
That's an assumption I don't agree with. Nobody's gonna surrender to a spork. The person we "take hostage" would just overpower us and kill us.
>>
>>35762871

Confucius say: outlook not so good.

>>35762875

Confucius say: outlook good.

>>35762882

Confucius say: outlook indiscernible.

Writing.
>>
>>35762915
Are you using an average system, a best of system or something else?
>>
>>35762937

When you decide on a plan of action, I break that down into a sequence of difficulty checks, each governed by a certain stat. The character's skill level makes the check alternately more or less difficult, depending on which side of average the MC is. Every roll determines the outcome of exactly one action.
>>
You creep toward the window, squatting, low to the ground. The wonder twins loudly converse with each other from across the house as they rifle through cupboards:

"No food in the kitchen."

"The water doesn't work."

"How do you think they got everyone to pack their stuff and leave town, anyway?"

"Maybe it's a ghost town. Maybe it's been abandoned for years."

"How much venom do you have left?"

"Enough. -- Oh, hey, there's some aspirin in here. -- How many bolts do you have left?"

"Enough. I only lost three of them shooting at Zeke and Anna."

Speaking as one: "Should we stay here for the night?"

Again, as one: "Just what I was thinking."

You shudder.
>>
You stand and try to raise the lower windowpane. But it's stuck. Of course. You cast a wary glance over your shoulder, trying to gauge how much time you have, and how much noise you can afford to make.

You lean your shoulder against the glass, applying pressure, trying to unjam it silently. It won't move, and you're not sure you have the strength to make it happen.

"Where should we go in the morning?" Boyd.

"Wherever you want to. I'll go anywhere you go." Chelsea.

"Always?"

"Always."

Damn it all. Damn it all. Open, you stupid janky piece of junk. Open, open, open, open--

"Should we stay in the bedroom?"

"Negatory. We should sleep in the living room. Closer to the exit."

"Good thinking, bro."

Your stomach lurches. Growing panicked, you start pumping the window with both palms, as if administering CPR to it. It's still not moving, and you're making an awful lot of noise now.

That's when you notice that the window is epoxied shut, caulk applied all along the outside of the frame. No wonder you can't open it.

"Did you hear that, sis?"

"The living room."

You turn your face heavenward, silently groaning in frustration. Of all the crappy things to happen to you in this crappy, craphole desert. You're going to die in a mobile home at the hands of these two half-albino weirdos.
>>
>>35763374
Uh
>>
welp
>>
>>35763541
>>35763578
Battle Royale Quest, uh, finds a way.

I hope.
>>
You hide between the sofa and the wall again. But why hide at all? You're dead, remember? May as well accept it. It sounds like you're in good company. They got Zeke and Anna, too.

The twins set foot in the living room.

"Who's there?" -- Both of them.

"Come out." Chelsea.

"We won't hurt you." Boyd.

Yeah, right.

You cower against the wall. The steps draw closer.

"Come out, please." Boyd.

"We all need to stick together. Trust us." Chelsea.

This sofa is a hideaway bed. The bottom has a small skirt that--

You lift it up.

Thank god that you're scrawny and feminine. You can fit underneath, just barely.

You curl up under the sofa, the hard metal underside of the fold-in futon frame pressing uncomfortably against your ribcage. You hear the twins tracing concentric circles around the living room as they search for you.

"Were we hearing things?" Boyd.

"No. There was definitely someone here." Chelsea.

"Where did they go?"

"Shh. Listen."

They listen. You hold your breath.

"I don't hear anything, sis."

"Let's check the bedroom. That's the only other place they could have gone."

They leave. You breath a sigh of relief.
>>
>>35763733
Do.
Not.
Move.
>>
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>>35763824
>Adam's face when he has to lie underneath the twins as they spend all night fucking
>>
>>35763848
Be darn easy for him to steal weapons and run/gun them down then in the aftermath
>>
>>35763848
Doujins when?
>>
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>>35763848
It's same this isn't being broadcast to the public, it would have made a damn good show.
>>
>>35763986
It' a shame*
>>
You quickly crawl out from underneath the sofa. You drag your dropbag out and sling it over your shoulder. There's no getting around it now. You have to escape out the front door, which means running right past those freaks.

Now or never. You leg it.

"Gotcha!" Boyd, wheeling around the corner from the kitchen, blocking your forward progress. Chelsea leaps into place behind you.

It was a trap. Of course.

You hold up your spork.

Okay, not the best idea. Chelsea grabs for your arms, but you anticipate the attempt. As Boyd holds the crossbow up to take the shot, you lunge forward and headbutt him.

"Motherfu--" he grunts, reeling back, dazed, arms flailing.

"Boyd!"

Chelsea jumps, latching onto your shoulders. You go windmilling around in a semicircle that slams her against the wall. She bites your neck. Hard. It draws blood.
>>
Blindly, you try to jab your spork into her face -- going for -- her eyes? Ears? Anything soft. But come on. It's a spork. You're not accomplishing anything.

Boyd raises his crossbow again. You tumble forward, landing prone, dragging Chelsea with you. She makes a nice human shield.

"Move! Chelsea, move!"

You hold her in place, her hand against your chest. She gnaws your neck. You bite her arm in return, and she howls with agony and indignation.

"You fucking kike!" Boyd yells. He circles you and kicks you in the face. Your vision fills with stars, and you lose your jaw's grip on Chelsea's arm.

"Let go of me!" Chelsea shrieks between bites. You pound the handle of your spork into her temple, trying to wedge it in her ear canal. But she shakes herself loose and rolls backward, off of you.

Bleeding freely, you crawl forward and grab Boyd's ankles, tripping him. The crossbow goes off, and the bolt shatters the window in the living room. Boyd lands with a hard thud, hitting his head on the wall as he falls. You try to grab for the crossbow but Boyd is quicker. He uses it as a club, smacking you over the back of the skull. You give it up. Let them have it. You use the wall for leverage and get on your feet again.

As you run for the door, you hear Boyd nocking the crossbow again. But you're out of the house, down the porch, and most of the way down the street before he can take the shot. You veer a hard left and disappear into a thicket of sagebrush.

>Current health: 40
>>
>>35764179
And this is why we should have stayed put all night.
>>
>>35764179
That went better then I expected.
>>
>>35764156
I think people wanted to stay under the couch
>>
>>35764156
>You hold up your spork.

Hi I'm Adam but you can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!
>>
>>35764249

Adam would have died. They knew he was under there. Their "where could he have gone?" thing was a clever ruse.
>>
>>35764179
I assume the spork is broken now?
>>
>>35764179
Nice escape.
>"You fucking kike!"
>>
>>35764311
Sup TrackMan
>>
>>35764365
Actually getting shit done for a change. Reading a quest. Not much.
>>
You hold Whitney about the shoulder and help her limp through the parking lot of Casa Paraiso, where a sign outside advertises that all your dreams will come true.

It's not a very impressive-looking building for a place where dreams come true. Squat and low-roofed, white, with bars over the windows.

The front entrance is locked, but that's nothing a rock through the window and unlatching the door from the inside can't solve.

The front parlor is lushly carpeted and furnished. Leather sofas and tasteful black coffee tables are arrayed in a circular annex just next to to what looks like a check-in desk of some kind. The annex sits behind a curtain of many-colored rhinestones that glint in the moonlight. There's an open room beyond the check-in desk, but the darkness makes it difficult to discern. Further down, a long hall leads to a number of closed doors, evenly spaced, like the hall of a hotel. A sign over the hallway points the way to a bar.

Whitney sits on one of the couches in the annex. She tugs the leg of her shorts up to examine her wound, but you really need some better light to do anything about it.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"Zeke. If you ask me that question one more time, I will steal that gun of yours and put bullets in you."

You've been asking her that question a lot, yeah.

You circle the front desk and look through the drawers. Lucky you: there's a flashlight here. You rejoin Whitney in the annex and shine it on her leg. Her tanned thigh is smeared with dried blood and her gash is still dribbling a bit.

"Ugly," you say.

"No shit, Sherlock. I bet there's a first aid kit around here. I need antiseptic and gauze."

You stand, looking down the main hallway.

"What is this place?" you ask. "Some kind of nightclub in the middle of nowhere? And why does it smell like seafood in here?"

Whitney frowns at you like you're the biggest idiot on the planet.
>>
>>35764680
>her gash is still dribbling a bit.

Lewd!
>>
>>35764734
Anon!
>>
>>35764680
>Whitney frowns at you like you're the biggest idiot on the planet.
Nice one.
>>
>>35764734
Whitney is lewd. Immutable law of the universe. No matter which universe you're in.
>>
Just got here and -- well, at least we didn't get shot during all that. Losing 1/5 our HP is still pretty rough, though. I'm glad we have a protagonist who the deck is firmly stacked against, Kay and Zeke's luck with weapons was way too good.
>>
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>>35764680
>"Some kind of nightclub in the middle of nowhere? And why does it smell like seafood in here?"
Oh, Zeke.
>>
>>35764767
>>35764801
To be fair, he is in ninth grade and a little naive.
>>
>>35764778
Whitney still best girl
>>
>>35764823
It had nothing to do with his naiveté
>>
>>35764852
Naive means virgin in this context.
>>
>>35764823
But Whitney seems to know what's up. Is Whitney truly so lewd?
>>
>>35764876
>Whitney is captain of the girls' soccer team and Anna's best friend. She often protects Anna from the consequences of her practical jokes. The rumor that the two have a lesbian relationship is a persistent one.
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>>35764876
Whitney is always lewd, like >>35764778 said
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>>35764876
Something about Whitney tells me she's the kinda girl that would just bring up a foursome in a random conversation.
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You leave Whitney in the annex, taking the flashlight with you, and check the area beyond the front desk. The doorway leads to a nest of small offices, including one labeled -- of all things -- "clinic."

If only you had known this place had one, you could have avoided the ugliness back at the main clinic.

You scan your light over the signs and notices posted to the wall outside the clinic. Signs like: "HIV -- THE SILENT KILLER" and "WEEKLY STD TESTING -- IT'S THE LAW FOR SEX WORKERS IN NEVADA."

Now you're the one frowning. You're beginning to think this may not be a normal nightclub. But whatever it is, at least there should be some more good supplies here.

You open the door to the clinic.

"Freeze."

The student on the other side of the door, now currently holding a gun to your face, is Mark Lerner, Boys #8.
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Fuck. This just isn't our night.
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>>35765016
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>>35765016
Welp, that's it.
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>>35765277
Hey, he only told us to freeze. If he was playing to win, we'd already be dead.
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You heft your FAMAS and point it at him. You identify his firearm as a Glock 17 -- the sort of thing that would ruin your night for sure.

"Mark--" you say, your voice pinched.

"Step back Zeke. Stay away."

"Mark. Put the gun down."

"You first."

Neither of you lower your weapons. Only a couple feet separate you. Either one of you could easily kill the other with one squeeze of the trigger. So simple.

But the seconds slowly accumulate and neither of you shoot. And then some weird telepathy happens -- you pass a crucial moment where it becomes clear neither of you want to hurt the other -- and you lower your guns in tandem.

"Zeke," Mark says, warmly, stepping forward. He hugs you. You hug him in turn. You pat each other on the back in a show of fraternity, the loud slaps echoing off the walls.
>>
"How are you holding up?" you ask.

Mark pulls away. "I'm looking for Gena. Have you seen her?"

Of course he is. You should have known. Those two were inseparable back at school -- they were the only long-term members of the Judo Club, and they sparred together in the gymnasium every day.

"No. Have you seen Claire?"

"No. Sorry."

Damn. You shake your head. What rotten luck.

"Whitney is out front," you say, remembering the reason you're here. "She's hurt. I need some disinfectant and some bandages."

"There's lots here. Help yourself. I have to get going."

You grab him by the arm as he steps past. "Wait. Stay with us. We're safer in a group."

"You're going to treat Whitney, right? That takes time. And I don't have any time. I have to find Gena.... I have to tell her--"

He trails off. But you understand. The way Mark would hover over her whenever they worked on projects together, the way he always talked about her. The way they would fight each other in their sparring matches, giving it their all, but always knowing each other's limits, which made it fascinating to watch. He's in love with her. And this is his last chance to say so.

You understand because that's exactly why you need to find Claire.

"Good luck," you say, releasing his arm. "If you find her soon enough, go to cell D8. We're trying to meet up with Q there. And -- watch out for Wesley and Sakura. They're playing the game."

"Good luck right back at you," Mark says. He gives you a sharp little salute. "If I see Claire, I'll keep her safe."

"I'll do the same for Gena."

"Gena doesn't need anyone to keep her safe. That's why -- that's why I love her."
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Goodbye Mark.

He's going to die the next time we see him, isn't he?
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>>35765531
Maybe the death flags are merely a cunning ruse?
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>>35765531
http://youtu.be/5utc5TOPNbo?t=5s
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>>35766084
Night, OP
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>>35766084
>>35766119
JESUS CHRIST.

I am a moron. And tired.
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>>35766084
Thanks for the thread OP. Could you do Katie Comstock next?
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>>35766147
Sure thing! Katie will be in the next batch.

But for now, bed. I fucked up the image three times. I really need to get to sleep.
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>>35766172
Twitter?
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Is anyone going to archive this, or is someone planning on keeping this alive until later?
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>>35768307
Archived on suptg. Couldn't think of a better description.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/35761243



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