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/tg/ - Traditional Games

File: FatguyQuestEp5.png (402 KB, 800x600)
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Rules: http://pastebin.com/epWbgqY8
Character: http://pastebin.com/bDCkH98y
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Fatguy%20Quest

"Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change."
—Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

It's been a slow week for me. The strangest in memory, but slow. The problems; I feel, began with me but I know that I'm wrong. They began with Food Girl. She'd been balding at an extreme rate. Just a week after our last hospital visit, her skin would be a harsh charcoal color, and her hair would be completely gone. For me though, the changes honestly seemed a bit more subtle. It was yellow-eyed Loud Girl who first pointed it out one morning.

"Hey Fat Guy, you have a gnarly fucking pimple right-" she puts her hand up and I swipe it away.

"What the fuck?" I ask.

"You've got a huge ass fucking zit right there. And another one on the other side." she says.

I feel my head. My forehead's felt a bit tight, but she's right. There are a pair of hard nubs on either side of my forehead. They don't hurt, and they have zero give.

"Need a scalpel?" she asks. I groan. There is pretty much no way that these aren't horns. "Well?" she asks again.

I shake my head. "No. Just... fuck off." I wave her away.

"Whatever. You don't need to tell me twice, zithead. Hah. Shithead."

When I'd seen my face in a mirror, and well– there were two giant bumps on my forehead. They were red in color. I felt wrong about it, but I didn't speak to anyone about it. Loud Girl may not have wanted to say it, yet I was sure that I was growing horns and I didn't know how the rest may react to it. Like they didn't have enough problems on their own hands.

SORRY I'M SO LATE. The wife had me do stuff with baby supplies, it's flooding out here, and waaaaugh.
We were holing up in an old hotel. Not much traffic except the usual zombie, and an occasional hell hound sniffing around. I keep getting the feeling that we're in a location that's already been primarily picked over. In all, it's been just over a month since the world ended. It feels more like it was with a bang than a whimper, though. Our motel was in the middle of nowhere, somewhere north of Lancaster. It's small, only four rooms. Baseball and I had been sharing one, while I started wearing a bandana. It was a few days since I had learned about my horns, when I heard a scream in our ranks.

Baseball and I were on our feet in a flash, then out the door not long after. Getting there, we find the door inexplicably locked. I was incredulous, but more worried than that. It seems that my fear offset my strength. I gripped the round door handle, and pulled. There was a loud snap and the door swung open.

Another shriek came from inside, followed by a loud request of, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" Loud Girl Screeched. I saw her dart into a bathroom, while Food Girl looked back to the door with a scowl.

"What do you want?" she asked, incensed.

Now instead of incredulous shock, I was just dumbfounded. "I um... I heard a scream."

Just then, Gun Guy joined us his rifle in hand. "What's going on?"

Food Girl marches to the door and grabs the handle. "Girl stuff." she says, before snatching the door out of my grasp. She slams it shut loudly, and it swings back open on it's own. She issues an "Ugh" before closing it again. It stays shut this time.

"Uh... 'Girl Stuff'?" GG asks.

I shake my head and Baseball says "No fucking clue."

Gun Guy was next. By day four, he'd developed similar bumps as my own. Baseball however seems to get the yellow eyes by day six. His bumps came shortly thereafter.
It wasn't until that time that I'd see Loud Girl again. And when I did? Her face seemed really red and dry. She took great pains in covering it up. Then she was obviously busy trying to hide her mouth. I could see hair, of all things, on the backs of her wrists underneath her long sleeved shirt. It was as thick as my chest hair.

I wish I hadn't comented on it.

"So... need an extra razor?" I ask.

She slapped me so hard I saw the inverse opposite color of gray. More like holographic gray, really. Uber rare gray? I don't know. Before I'd gotten hold of my senses again she had already walked away. The only time I'd ever been hit so hard is when I drove a car into a giant hellhound alpha.

It took me the full week to realize why we'd stayed put. What we were doing here. We were waiting it out. Seeing what would happen to us, or what we were turning into. Maybe we were waiting to see if we were just going to go feral, but honestly I feel more like 'me' than I ever have before. I know that doesn't make much sense.

The days pass with gathering the necessities. We're approaching a sort of critical mass for food. None of us really need to eat much more than once per day, and I definitely don't understand that. I'm sure that we're all craving for more protein though. The idea of a rare steak sounds amazing to me at least.

The day is filled with a dusk-like sky. It had cleared a great deal since the sun seemed like it was blotted out. In the night, the sky is pitch dark. I haven't seen stars since we met the Hospital Demon. Well, that and when I got slapped.

We hadn't been keeping track of days, but hell, when the shit hit the fan again, it felt like a definite Monday.

We woke up to what sounded like a train going through an industrial paper shredder mixed with the sound of a waterfall hitting a giant drum.

My head had been buried in the couch but I looked up—towards the window.

"What the fuck is that?" Baseball asks.
A blinding flash was coming from the window shedding black shadows behind everything else. A word goes through my mind as I leap up from where I had been sleeping and yank Baseball down behind the bed. 'Nuclear'

The flash passed after a number of seconds. I wished I'd counted, but however large the yeild was... it must've been far enough away to not eviscerate the motel.

"Can you let go of me dude?" Baseball asks.

"What? Oh. Yeah, sure. That was a nuke." I say, feeling more like a loser than an informed survivalist.

"No shit?" Baseball says getting up to look out the window. I follow. A fireball is rising into the sky to the east.

"That's gotta be Boston." I say. A sinking feeling permeates my guts. "We've gotta start moving. Fallout is going to be a concern for... fuck, I can't remember. A couple of weeks? Let's get the others."

Baseball nods, and we set about just that. Getting outside, we find Gun Guy already preping everyone. "Nuclear detonation, at least a fifty megaton yield, centered over a population center. We need to be moving, and fast. On the horizon, it looks like there's a number of other detonations on the horizon. The entire state is a hazard of nuclear weapon targets."

"If it were another country, you mean." I pipe up.

Gun Guy gives me a look suddenly. "You're right." he says. "It might have been targeting anything. A conventional nuclear strike will be backed up with two or more ancillary strikes to try to take out shielded targets. These are too spread out."

"In which case?" I ask. I still don't see any other clouds on the horizon.

"In which case, we don't know where to go." he concedes.
"Avoid cities." Loud Girl says. I do a double-take when I see her. Her face is alarmingly hairy, and she's got some seriously pronounced teeth.

"Good plan, but that doesn't answer the question of, 'Where do we go from here.'" Gun Guy says.

"I think we should try to get further west, away from where people used to live." Food Girl insists.

"Do we even know if radiation can hurt us?" Pretty Boy asks.

"You can be our test-dummy if we get too close." I say.

Pretty Boy laughs nervously and runs his hand through his hair.

"We're wasting time now." Gun Guy says.

We're currently in Lancaster, Massachusetts. Boston has become a huge fireball because of... reasons? I guess? Now we need a course. There aren't many obvious options, maybe further west North is also a possibility, we could head up towards Maine. We could possibly check back at Milford. They have civilians who most likely need moving. It may be a way to indebt that demon—and I still don't know what deal Pretty Boy made with him. At least our supplies are in good order.

>I should suggest heading to Milford, and seeing if they have any civilians that need assistance.
>I should suggest we avoid any population centers nearby, especially Milford. Besides, do we really want to deal with that devil again? For all I care, the entire thing could go up in ashes.


>We should begin by heading North, towards Maine and Canada. It'll be more peaceful there.
>We should go towards the South, where most of the monstrous activity is. We might be able to carve out something for ourselves.
>We should head west for safety from possible NUCLEAR FUCKING BOMBS. We could get more resources in the midwest than by going North, but it'll be more dangerous.

>Other Ideas [Write In]
>I should suggest we avoid any population centers nearby, especially Milford. Besides, do we really want to deal with that devil again? For all I care, the entire thing could go up in ashes.

>We should head west for safety from possible NUCLEAR FUCKING BOMBS. We could get more resources in the midwest than by going North, but it'll be more dangerous. Maybe go south later once the nuclear Armageddon has passed.

Sup. Linked in the WQDT?

It refreshed like 10 seconds after I posted with that question :/
waiting a little longer to see if any more votes come in?
I don't really have an opinion, so I'll second
>avoid population centers
>I should suggest we avoid any population centers nearby, especially Milford. Besides, do we really want to deal with that devil again? For all I care, the entire thing could go up in ashes.
>We should begin by heading North, towards Maine and Canada. It'll be more peaceful there.

"Listen, I think we need to cut west." I say.

"Then we need to avoid Springfield, North Hampton, and Greenfield. The best way of doing this is by going straight north along the border."

"We should get moving then. It's too late to talk. I'm getting in a car." a fuzzy Loud Girl insists pointing back to the vehicles. I head that direction, being the official designated driver between the two of us. Within the hour, we're moving again. The roads along this way are fortunately not too bad, being as far out as they are from the cities. It's no more than an hour before another blast in the east nearly blinds us. It does blind LG, and I notice Baseball's car pull over. Seeing that, I stop too. The others follow suit shortly thereafter.

"What is up with this fucking light?" she asks with a groan. "I hate this shit." she continues to rub at her face.

It takes a few minutes for the group to get back in action. It gives me plenty of time to watch the mushroom cloud rise. There are maybe a dozen other dissipating clouds without fireballs on the east side.

As the fireball dies down, it becomes obvious that the sun is coming back up. It cuts through the dusk, and illuminates all of the clouds. Seeing smoke rise from fires is pretty normal these days, but this is something hugely different. A great ash cloud in the east has begun drifting this way. That seems to be the thing we need to outrace.

Once we're back on the road, it's not long before we reach our first obstacle in getting there. Loud Girl seems to notice it first, her head perking up.

"Do you hear that?" she asks.

My first thoughts are that there's something wrong with the car. "No. What?"

The tiger gives a sort of warning growl.

"I hear cars." Loud Girl says.

In another fifteen minutes, they come into sight. Maybe a hundred or so vehicles driving along the highway corridor.

>Flag them down
>Try to find a way around
>Hello, XP Bags.
>Flag them down
Other survivors?

Also is Loud Girl a tigerkin or what?
What kind of vehicles? Army convoy, CIA black van convoy, mixed civilian cars...? Can we (at least the ones with good eyes) see the people inside?
Watch them first. Or are we on the same highway with them coming towards us?
I think since the type wasn't mentioned it's civvy vehicles.
I'm going to use that later...
The vehicles appear to be civilian, just a hodge podge of what you might find in parking lots. That doesn't mean that there aren't military in them. It's possible.

"Can you see any of the people inside the cars?" I ask Loud Girl.

"Yeah." she says, squinting. "The ones in back... I see a rifle, but nothing else that's obvious. I think the ones in back are some kind of rear guard." She points out a red range rover that's going along the side of the road. "They have a few people sitting in back with guns, I think."

"Totally awesome... do you think they're like us?" I ask.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gives me a look. I keep my eyes on the road ahead for the most part. Our group is keeping pace with them, but a good distance (maybe a mile) behind.

"Uh... you know. Freaks?" I ask.

She sighs heavily. "Maybe. Probably."

"I think we should flag them down." I say.

"Are you retarded?" she asks.

"Seriously, I think we should try to get their attention. Safety in numbers, and all that." I say.

"You're fucking retarded. More people equals more chances to get fucked in any kind of scenario. They'll attract predators." she says.

"Like tigerkin?" I ask.



She thinks for a minute, before punching me in the arm. I feel the shoulder pop a little.

"Ow fuck, could you not?" I ask.

"Fuck you." she says with her furred arms folded.

Just then the walkie talkie comes on. ~This is Gun Guy. We need to fall back and give these civilians as much space as possible. They could be dangerous. Over.~

I pick up the walkie, and Loud Girl says, "It's a stupid idea." I roll my eyes.

"Fat Guy here. I think we should flag them down." I pause. "Uh. Over."

Gun Guy responds immediately: ~Not a chance. I want to follow them though, see if they might know where shelter is, Over.~
"I really think that we should be talking with them." I reply. "They're survivor's for fuck's sake. Over."

[Leadership: 2d6+2: 8]
[Gun Guy's Leadership: 2d6+2: 10]

~Let's vote. All who want to get killed, say Aye. Over.~

I grit my teeth. No-one speaks.

>Go ahead anyway.
>Listen to Gun Guy.
>>Listen to Gun Guy.
>>Listen to Gun Guy.
>Listen to Gun Guy.
"I get the point, GG. No need to be a dick. Over."

I set the walkie down hard. It falls into my leg room. "Fuck." I say, slowing down to duck and reach for it.

"Hey." Loud Girl says firmly, gripping the steering wheel. I sit back up.

"What?" I snap.

"Chill out." she says. Telling someone to 'chill out' or 'calm down' tends to usually have the opposite effect. I'm prepping a 'Fuck off.' when she reaches down beside my knee to pick up the walkie-talkie. She sits back up and puts it behind the gear shift.

"Better?" she asks.

"Uh... yeah." I say. Just fine. Jesus, tigerkin.

The convoy keeps on. A few of their rear-guard drop back. That prompts us to slow even more.

Baseball asks over the radio, ~Should we be taking the same route as them? I mean really?~

~Yeah.~ Gun Guy radios. ~I'd rather keep a better eye on them than not. And they seem to be having the same plan as us. Which is good.~

~Guys, mind if I say something?~ An unfamiliar voice comes over the radio. Who the fuck is that?

~Pretty Boy?~ Gun Guy asks.

~Yeah.~ Oh. He's never been on the radio. Dude is as quiet as the grave, usually. ~I want you guys to know that you're all great. I don't have any problems with you, okay? But if I don't talk to some other people soon I'm gonna lose my fucking marbles.~

I must've seemed confused, because Loud Girl supplied for me, "He's getting cabin fever, is all." I shrug.

~Uh-huh. Well that'll have to wait now, won't it?~ GG says.

~Yeah. Yeah, you're right.~ PB says. Radio silence is maintained for a good long time.

There fortunately aren't any strikes towards the center of the state just yet, but the drive takes hours. It felt like they weren't ever going to slow down or stop. About twelve hours after the blasts went off though, they finally find a place to rest.

We park a good distance back on the road, meanwhile they gather up around their rest point.
"So they're fueling up too." Gun Guy says. We're gathered just outside of our cars.

"What, does that indicate ill will or something?" Pretty Boy says. He's acting twitchy. Like an addict.

"Of course not. You can quit with the hormonal shit any time though." Gun Guy responds.

Pretty Boy flips him off, and Baseball laughs.

Food Girl leans against her car. She's looking... bizarre these days. She looks less like she started turning black, and more like a painted up alien chick from some scifi special. "We should take the diplomatic route. I can't go for obvious reasons."

"You know diplomacy better than any of us." Food Girl says.

Pretty Boy perks up from his refueling. "I volunteer."

Gun Guy looks over at him. "Not alone."

>Should I go with Pretty Boy to diplomance the survivors?
>I could suggest we all go, and hold the girls back.
>I could also suggest that I've had a sudden change of heart and that we should keep moving to shelter. Fallout could be here any minute.
>>Should I go with Pretty Boy to diplomance the survivors?
>I could suggest we all go, and hold the girls back.
Those that look normal could go.
>Should I go with Pretty Boy to diplomance the survivors?

We are the tankiest.
Let him do the talking though.

Also Food Girl a fire elemental or wat?

I don't think anyone looks normal anymore, except Pretty Boy.
>I could also suggest that I've had a sudden change of heart and that we should keep moving to shelter. Fallout could be here any minute.
Pretty boy definitely looks the most normal, I mean, there's definitely a difference of attractiveness between him and all of us, but still. And I guess Food Girl might be? It's not impossible. Jesus Christ.

"How about all of us but the girls go?" I ask.

Gun Guy looks at me and points to his forehead.

I take off my bandana, but... I'm not prepared for the looks I get.

"...What?" I ask.

"Your fucking head, dude." Baseball says pointing.

I feel my nubs and find... they've come to sharp tips. They're still small, but I... have horns.

"Feeling horny?" Loud Girl says with way too much satisfaction.

"Fuck you." I say.

"Dream on." she retorts.

I groan.

"Do we have any hats?" Gun Guy asks.

Baseball hops to his car and before long, he comes back with a selection of hats. There's a Fedora.

"What seriously?"

"I got what I could, put one on." Baseball says, picking a big ass cowboy hat for me.

"And listen, we need to hurry up. The fallout could be here any minute."

"All the better reason to get this over with, don't you think?" Pretty Boy says.

With as little hem-hawing as possible, we make our way to the group's camp.

We're stopped at the road by nine of their number, with hunting rifles, shotguns, and handguns aimed in our direction.

Gun Guy raises his hands.

"We're not here to fight." he says.

"You here to die then?" One of their men says raising his sights.

Pretty Boy gets in between this man and Gun. "Woah woah, no need to get so angry, chief."

Another one of theirs, an older man, grabs the barrel of the man's rifle and yanks it down. Unfortunately, these people are very obviously civilians and don't appear to have any kind of trigger discipline. The hunting rifle discharges into the ground. My hackles are definitely raised, and so is my gun now too.

"Sid, get the fuck back to camp, you're shitting yourself." the older man says.
"And let go of that fucking trigger!" The old man says, as Sid begins walking back.

"Hello sir, Are you in charge here?" PB asks the man who shakes his head.

"No. That would be Zeke." he says. Somehow the name worries me.

"Do you think we could meet Zeke?" Pretty Boy asks.

"That's pretty much where we were gonna take you folks. If you'd come with me, and aim your guns to the ground, there won't be any more shooting." the old man says.

"That sounds good." Pretty Boy says. We start to make our way around the edge of their "encampment" although it's hardly that. It's a bunch of cars around some trees. Right in the open. Everyone's busy fueling up here, but there's a great deal of people.

We're brought around towards a Humvee, and I feel a distinct sense of dread. It reminds me of the Milford Medical Center.

"I don't like this." Baseball puts words to my uneasiness just before.

"Neither do I." Gun Guy whispers back. It's quiet, as we head upon the vehicle.

A man comes around from the side with a fuel tank, if he could be called that. He's tall and classically handsome with curly golden hair. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucky fucked fuck.

"Charles. Who are these men?" he asks.

"They've been tailing us since just after the bombs went off." Charles supplies.

Zeke smiles at us. "Well then, welcome to our flock, friends. I'm sure you're looking for safety, yes?" he says.

"Of course." Pretty Boy says. He's looking disturbed as well.

"Well. This conversation will have to wait until after we get to a safer location. Gentlemen, I suggest you get back to your cars, and join up." he smiles.

Honestly, you wouldn't have to tell me twice. I vaguely remember hearing Pretty Boy saying something like "Thank you for your graciousness", but I'm unsettled. Ezekiel was a man in the bible, right? A prophet. No way this is a fucking angel. No way. We'd be dead already, wouldn't we?
o fuk
I guess he's manipulating us similar to how PB can? RESIST!
So there's no real need to worry, obviously. Obviously.

"Was that a fucking angel?" Gun Guy asks on the way back.

"Shut the fuck up." I snap at him. He glares at me for a moment, before looking down.

"An Angel?" Pretty Boy asks, before shaking his head. "No. Angels probably don't have dicks."

The rest of us look at him.

"A dick?" Baseball asks. "How would you even know?"

"Hrm?" Pretty Boy says. "Oh. Well did you see how many young women were around his car particularly? I'll bet you money he's fucking them." Pretty Boy clears his throat. I'm unsettled even more now.

"So what, he's just... a guy who looks like an angel?" Baseball asks.

"Or a demon." Pretty Boy says.

"So he's not just a guy? How do you know?" Gun Guy asks.

"I can't read his thoughts." Pretty Boy drops that all abruptly and shit.

"You can read thoughts?" I ask.

"Bullshit." Gun Guy says.

Pretty Boy shrugs. "We'll talk about it later. I know you're all worried about the fallout."

"That doesn't count." Gun Guy says.

"Whatever. We need to figure out what to do now." Baseball says.

"Are we going to follow up with these fuckers?" Pretty Boy asks. "I'm a little interested in his scam."

>Follow the convoy
>Leave as fast as possible
>Oust this fucker as a demon to the others. How long has it been since we've had a boss fight anyway?
>Follow the convoy
>Leave as fast as possible
>>Follow the convoy
Carefully. I want to know what he is but not be witched.
cont.: Do we have sniper rifles? I don't think we could fight all the civilians (and we don't want to) but it might be necessary to act if Zeke is a demon.
Ousting him will probably not work, since he has them somehow charmed (with magic or just by them knowing him as a "good guy" for a while) whereas we are the "strange new guys". We also look more like demons (spiky horns giant, hairy woman, black hairless woman).
Ah, well... that's gonna be nearly impossible. Considering he basically told us to follow.

Pretty Boy does. He seems decent with it. I don't know if he has the people charmed. It'll be something to keep an eye out for actually. Thanks.

"I think we should take him up on his offer, but hang back. If we don't find shelter soon? We're gonna get to enjoy the full effects of rad poisoning." These guys have so much trouble making decisions for themselves. Or maybe I'm different because I have all of your help? Hard to say.

"Assuming that he's a demon of indeterminable power, he probably already knows we're freaks." Baseball says. "So you can bet he's gonna be keeping a close eye on us."

"Mm. Yeah. Exactly what I didn't want." I say.

Gun Guy shrugs. "It's not like he's gonna be able to do much about us."

"Unless he's got powers like the Milford Demon." Pretty Boy chimes in. Which he might. I know you're of two minds about this, Fat Guy, but you should listen to your paranoid sides." I stare at him.

We get back to the vehicles and relate what's going on to the girls. LG groans. "Can I just rip his spine out?" she asks, looking at her hands. Her nails have turned into something akin to claws... since... the last couple of days?

"Settle down. He might be listening right now. Let's get in the cars." Autobots, roll out. Gun Guy has been way more authoritative since the hospital. He lost his shit though, and tried to kill me It's the primary reason I've been having trouble listening to some of the shit he says.

I feel a hand on my shoulder as I reach my car. When I look, I find it's Pretty Boy. He has a beneficent smile on. "Relax. GG's working through some stuff too. But he has all of our best interests in mind."

What the fuck?

"Anyway. Have a safe trip. See you when we stop." He heads back to his car. Watching him go is unsettling, from the mind reading to the way his hips swa-


>I know you're of two minds about this, Fat Guy, but you should listen to your paranoid sides." I stare at him.
Wow, he can hear us too by reading your mind. HELLO PRETTY BOY!
>from the mind reading to the way his hips swa-
By the next time we stop, we're wearing heavier clothes and gas masks. Baseball gave us those. He had them the whole time, and could've easily given them to us to use as a disguise, but it seems like he wanted to go with the hats more. It's a little frustrating. Loud Girl seems a bit resigned and quiet during the ride, which is uncharacteristic.

"You okay?" I say through the heavily muffled environment of the mask.

She nods. Weird.

The convoy stops at, of all places, a walmart. It has a roof at least, which is good, because it looks like it's about to rain. And with the rain, comes the rads.

Gun Guy comes in through the walkie and says, ~I want us to be in there with them. We'll have -some- shelter from the initial radiation, at least. Over~

I can see it now. There's gonna be a leak, and a huge contamination immediately. Awesome.

"With all due respect, Gunz, I'm pretty sure we're all about to die." I say over the radio.

~Not if the demon has anything to say about it.` Pretty Boy comes through. It is true, I suppose. What protection can the forces of hell give against radiation though? We'll have to find out.

The inside of the Walmart is dark, but people start setting up torches quick. Some of them are funnily enough the mosquito lanterns. I pull my mask up enough once I'm in there to breathe properly. Loud Girl's pretty much the only one who doesn't do the same.

The civilians avoid us, which as far as I'm concerned, is a blessing. Well, they avoid the majority of us. Pretty Boy is working on mingling. That too is fine by me. The rest of us more or less huddle up.

Gun Guy starts off by saying, "I'm going to interrogate Zeke. Fat Guy, Baseball, can you take a look at the defenses of the place? Food Girl, I'd like to know what the general attitude of people are going to be, and LG? Just... keep your tiger happy.

"He eats corpses." she says.

"Not that happy."

[I LIED 2/3]
>Insist on going with GG.
>Start inspecting the place. It's gonna be busy work.
>Run back to the car to get any relevant supplies before the rains come. I've got my Claymore and a duffle bag of clothes but not much else.
>Spy on... [Pretty Boy, Loud Girl, Food Girl, Gun Guy] while doing my chore.
>Start inspecting the place. It's gonna be busy work.
Make sure there aren't any leaks.
>Start inspecting the place. It's gonna be busy work.
>>Start inspecting the place. It's gonna be busy work.
Pretty Boy should go with GG.
You're right. I don't need any distractions

He should, but he's off doing his own thing... and right now? I'm really not wanting to go chat him up. He's freaking me out big time.

[Perception + Mind + Study (Technology): 17]

Baseball, I think, was not prepared for how serious about this I was. For instance, I didn't think he'd expect me to get into the ceilings, nor ask him to cut off the AC piping from the exterior vents.

"Why cut the piping?" he asks. "Can't we just close it?"

"Condensation can form, and with it? Radioactive dust can leak onto the ceiling. Just a little bit isn't gonna be bad. Honestly we don't even need to camp out all THAT long. Most of the heavy irradiated debris will fall as close to the blast as it can. Fortunately the wind has been almost dead since the apocalypse began. So we don't have to worry about the heavy stuff. That's the most dangerous. The rest is little. I'd give it a couple of days."

"A couple of days?" Baseball asks, looking at me like I'd grown a second head. "That's bullshit, no way the radiation is down after a couple of days. Chernobyl is still fucked, right?"

I shake my head. "That's a reactor. Bombs are different. And trust me. We just gotta keep safe through this rain, and we'll be set. Unless a bomb falls on our head, then we won't really have much to worry about at all."

In all, we finish our chore just before the rain starts coming down again. I know people are going to be anxious down below. Hell, I can almost feel it. Baseball worked startlingly quick too.

"You said your... brother was a mechanic, right?" I ask.

He nods.

"Did you ever work with him?" I ask.

Baseball shakes his head. "No. But I liked building model cars. That was pretty much it."

"You work fast at least." I say.

"Yeah. That's new." he says, looking at his hands.

[Part 1/2]
We get back down to the Walmart proper, and I find I was justified in thinking that people were anxious. They're building fortifications out of shelving. It's kind of silly looking. I can't however, see Pretty Boy or Gun Guy. Finding the girls is as easy as finding the gask masks hanging around outside of the crowd.

"People are bothered, and I can't blame them. Radiation is frightening." Food Girl says as we arrive. The tiger is currently curled up on a pile of pillows that looks like it was gathered from somewhere in the store. Loud Girl is sitting with him. (Is she becoming a Ca/tg/irl? Fuck's sake.)

"Yeah, I can tell." I say.

Baseball points up at me. "He says that the fallout is only gonna be a problem for a couple of days at best."

Food Girl looks up at me, and I explain, "Well... if there aren't any more bombs."

"Really?" she asks.

I nod.

"Oh good. Thank goodness." She sounds relieved.

"Where are the other two?" I ask.

Food Girl shakes her head. "GG hasn't shown back up yet."

Loud Girl pipes up, "Pretty Boy went to the restroom with a couple of ladies."

I give her a look. "What, seriously?" I ask.

She shrugs.

"Okay... well, good for him I guess." I shake my head. Getting laid at a time like this?

Food Girl speaks up, "People like comfort in dangerous situations."

"Yeah but he's not comforting them, he's boning 'em" Baseball says with a grin.

Food Girl folds her arms and shakes her head.

>Go find Gun Guy
>Go find Pretty Boy
>Wait it out
>Go find Gun Guy
lets not cockcblock PB
>>Go find Gun Guy
Try sending our thoughts to PB.
>>Go find Gun Guy
Look towards Zeke from the distance first, no need to go to him if we can see GG with him and he looks fine.
I mean, try to communate that we're going to find GG and to find us
Good point. I guess I could also look around for worthwhile stuff to loot.
...This has merit. But I think I'll wait until he's not busy.

Feel like suggesting any alternative recourses? There might be some worthwhile things hiding around the Walmart. It doesn't look TOO hideously looted. I could also quiz some of the normies around.

I felt like I had a pretty good look around... but I can check again. Most everyone is near the entrance right now. If I spot Zeke and Gunz, I'll just leave them to it and head back.

If you don't have any alternatives/additional you'd like to suggest, I'll just go and find GG. I don't even know why I thought about bothering PB, to be honest.
Maybe some Iodine tabs just in case?
Good deal. As it turns out, they've got Iodine stocked over in medical. Not in tablet form that I could find, but I'll look in sporting goods after we're all together again.

It's an uncomfortable realization. Just asking around tells me that Zeke is towards the back, working on directing the blockading of the rear and loading entrances. But when I find him and his entourage? I don't find Gun Guy.

Navigating the back stock of a Walmart is bizarre. It's immensely dark, and there's boxes and debris everywhere. This place looks like it's been utterly thrashed! I can't discern why. Another unsettling realization is that I can now see in the dark without any problem. I worry that my eyes may be turning yellow now too. Like I needed to get more hideous.

The torches stun my eyes momentarily as I come across their group. Sure enough, they're blockading it. Zeke is standing at the rear, just watching over.

"You're doing a good job, Lindsay." he might say. Or "Could you move that a little closer to Richard's shelving? Thank you Tyson."

>Confront Zeke
>Watch a while longer, he may not have noticed me yet.
>Other [Write In]
>>Watch a while longer, he may not have noticed me yet.
>Confront Zeke
He's noticed us.
>Watch a while longer, he may not have noticed me yet.

[Stealth + Mind + Study (Strategy): 12] I'm surprised.
[Opponent's Perception: 11] Tense!

Oh ye of little faith. Didn't you know that Fa/tg/uy is a Ninja Master with his novice rank in stealth?

I take a hiding spot behind some shelves that gives me access between a few boxes to watch the scene for a while. The people work quickly, but not tirelessly. They're also reactive. "You're doing good there, Cheryl. Do you need a break?" he asks.

"No sir, I'm fine—Thank you!" she smiles back.

Still, this doesn't disprove the idea that they're under a demonic influence. Hearing the footsteps come up from behind where I was worries the shit out of me. I whip around and see a man coming through. He's looking straight ahead, and here I am right in open... oh wait. I forgot how dark it was. He walks past my hiding spot and up to Zeke.

"Sir, I lost the large one. Last I saw he was coming this way."

Zeke smiles down at him, and shrugs. "He'll turn up. And the other Cambions?"

The man shrugs. "The black one is still hiding somewhere, but the deceiver is indulging in the flesh of the flock."

"The women and the warbeast are still stationary then?" Zeke asks.

The man nods.

"Good. Alright. Find the black one and the large one. I wouldn't want them wreaking any kind of havoc amoungst my flock. Encourage them to stay with the other outsiders, but don't let them know that we can see through their pitiful disguises." Zeke turns back to the barricading effort.

"Yes sir. I'll see to it right away." the man turns on his heels and heads out the way he came.

"Good job, Tina." he says.

"Thank you sir." she replies.


>Confront Zeke
>Sneak out and get back into the storefront and try to find GG/PB
>Give the Telepathy thing a shot
>>Give the Telepathy thing a shot
Only if we can get away from him a bit
>Give the Telepathy thing a shot
>>Sneak out and get back into the storefront and try to find GG/PB
Sorry Guys, the wife is making me do a thing with our new Playard. It's missing the bassinet so I have to email the company. This will be a few minutes.
>pretty boy is fucking when theres a demon around
Is he that much of a retard?
[Stealth + Mind + Study (Strategy): 11]
[Opponent's Perception: 9]

I work my way out of there as quickly as possible and out to the store proper. From there? Well. This is gonna be awkward. And embarrassing for me. So... fuck off.




Well that settles that. Now then, I start heading-

—Could you not try to pierce my eardrums? What is it?

Oh god.

—Flattering. How can I be of service?

You can do telepathy.

—Absolutely. It's how I know where you're all at most of the time. Now then, what's going on?

You don't know already?

—Afraid not, and there's no point jerking me off if I don't come. What are you bothering me for?

Ew. Gun Guy is missing, and Zeke called us 'Cambions' which means we're all the children of succubuses and humans I guess?

—Cambion? That's interesting. So we're half demons?

Yeah, I guess.

—Seems like the kind of uninspired thing you'd come across on DeviantArt or something.

Anyway, where's Gun Guy?

—He's panicking in the restrooms nearest kitchenwares. Follow the blood, you won't be able to miss him.


—Goodbye, boys.



Fuck. I head off that way. Sure enough, I smell it long before I get to kitchen and home. There's blood on the air. I duck into the restrooms, and the smell is overwhelming. Turning the privacy corner, I find a pooling puddle of blood that leads into a stall.

... He's hiding in there with a knife, isn't he?

"Gun Guy?" If he doesn't respond I'm gonna blitz through every last one of these mother fucking stalls so fast that he won't even be able to-

He opens the stall and pokes his head out. "Fat Guy?"

"There you are. What's with the murder scene?" I ask.

"I'm growing wings."

... Oh. "Oh." I say.

"Yeah. They kind of popped out today."

"That's cool."

"Not really."

..."So Zeke is totally onto us. Did you talk to him?"

"No. Fuck."

[Part 1/2]
Well, I hope he is probing the minds of the girls. I'm not sure how Zeke meant the command, i.e. if there are different groups of people with him (flock vs outsiders?). Perhaps PB should probe the guy that just talked to Zeke.
Fuck, I guess.

"It's alright though." I say. "His goons are incompetent."

"We're gonna be stuck here for months with them?" he says, looking out. He steps down off the toilet, it seems.

I give him a look. He's military, he should know better. "No. One, the fallout isn't going to be dangerous that much longer. The heavy stuff would've dropped near the site. There aren't any highwinds to move it. Two, what we'll have to deal with won't be dangerous within like two days."

He gives me a look as he steps out of the stall. "Yeah?"

The wings on his back are black and feathered... and scrawny. I'm kind of stuck staring at them. "Yeaaah..."

"Look, throw me some paper towels and my shirt, okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, can do."

It takes a while to get him cleaned up, but when we do we get out of there.

"So," I ask him on the way. "We're stuck in a Walmart with a demon and his cult for twenty four hours. Wat do?"

He shakes his head. "Fuck some shit up I guess."

>Sounds good to me.
>Nah, let's ride it out a bit.
>Other Ideas[Write In]
He meant that our group was the outsiders.
>Other Ideas
Takeover a part of the walmart for ourselves then
I'll be king of the sporting goods. No seriously though, we might have to barricade ourselves in. That's worrisome.
They got numbers and guns with a full fledged demon controlling them

Cant leave till the fallout settles so eh no point wrecking the place
>>Sounds good to me.
though, this place could make a nice place to fall back, just something to think about.
Maybe we should recite some of GRRM most powerfull "quote" everytime PB do something dumb?
>Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before...
Ask GG where the blood is from. His own from wing-growing? A witness?

[Spoiler]In the character sheet, Supernatural Defense is noted as =Willpower+Resolve (which would make it Mind+Resolve+Resolve) in the second/skill part and as =Willpower+Spirit (i.e. Mind+Resolve+Spirit) in the last/XP part. I guess the second one is correct?
>Ser Alliser Thorne walked from the room so stiffly it looked as though he had a dagger up his butt.

>The ship groaned and growled beneath him like a constipated fat man straining to shit.

Fucking Fat Bastard
I'm still here, the wife has been needing things. And I'm finishing up this post.
IT SURE IS. You're right, I messed up.
Something, something, fat pink mast.

"So what's the blood from?" I ask.

"The, uh... wings." he says.

"Did you cut them out?" I ask.

"Yeah." he looks away. "Look, can we not talk about it?"

"Yeah, fine. Let's hurry up then. But I don't think we should stick our necks out right now. Let's wait it out. Does that sound fair?"

He chews on the thought for a while.

As far as I'm aware the votes are now...

>Fuck shit up 1
>Don't fuck shit up and wait it out 2
>Fat Fucking Bastard 1

We arrive at the entrance where the others have been waiting.

Food Girl speaks up as you arrive. "What did you find out when you were gone?" she asks.

"Not much." Gun Guy says. "How are the civilians?"

She looks around. "Anxious. Just anxious." She nods her head in their direction. It draws my eye to look out. I spot a number of people going about their business... but upon taking a second look, I realize that there's always at least one pair of eyes on us.

"We've been told that we should stick to our own area for a while." she says.

"Yeah, that's what I'd heard." I say.

Gun Guy looks towards me, before putting his gas mask down.


After a few hours, Pretty Boy comes back as well. A couple of girls are with him. His gas-mask is hanging around his neck backwards and he's grinning.

"Hello, boys and girls."

"This isn't a place for civilians." Gun Guy says. Pretty Boy frowns.


Pretty Boy flinches.


You should let those girls go. They're dangerous.

He smiles and shrugs. "Of course, boss. You're right as usual. Scamper on now." He lets go of them and they head off, giggling and drunken looking.

"Did you drug them?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, why?"

"They look fucked up." I say.

Loud Girl laughs.

"No, we just had a bit of fun is all." he says.

[Part 1/2]

After several hours pass, many of the number go to sleep. It seems like they're doing so in shifts, and away from where we're at. As far as fatigue goes though? I'm feeling just fine. I can't speak for the others though. Loud Girl does what she usually does and sleeps. So does the Tiger for that matter.

Gun Guy manages to wait a whole two hours before announcing. "I'm going to go speak to our gracious host."

"Not alone, you're not." Food Girl insists.

"Alright. Come on then." Gun Guy says.

"Yeah. I may as well come to." I pitch in.

"Are we going to a fight?" Pretty Boy asks.

"Dunno." Gun Guy says.

He looks around for a while. "Where's Baseball?" he asks.

I blink and look around now. "I... shit, I don't know."


"Excuse me," I ask one of the... cult? "Where can I find Zeke again?"

"Oh, I don't know if he's wanting to see visitors right now. But I can send along your concerns, if you want." the man smiles pleasantly. This has to be one of his immediate lackeys, otherwise they'd've just said 'No Idea', I'm sure.

It's a shame Pretty Boy has no idea where he's at. That would be convenient as hell.

>Go check in the back
>Start shooting and see how long it takes him to come out.
>Other [Write In]
>>Go check in the back
mumble about brown water and fat fucking bastards
>>Go check in the back
Pretty Boy will know where Baseball is I guess?
>It's a shame Pretty Boy has no idea where he's at. That would be convenient as hell.
How about he finds where Baseball is and ask him if he's ok. Tell the gang that PB is a living phone line or something
>Go check in the back
Oh shit! That's right.
"Thank you, but no thank you. We'll be heading on." I say.

"Where will you be heading to?" he asks.

I look back then keep heading on.

"I can't." Pretty Boy says when we're out of earshot.

"You can't what?" GG asks.

"I can't tell where Baseball's at. That might happen if he's unconscious." he says.


"Alright. It was worth a shot." I say.

"I'm sorry, what?" Gun Guy asks.

"Nevermind." I say.

I hear Gun Guy sigh. As we reach the back, we find it much the way that I left it. I can't hear activity in the back too much, nor can I smell anyone actively back here... thinking that sounds fucking weird.

Regardless, I keep my gas mask up so I can see/smell to the best of my abilities. When we arrive at the back barricade, we find it empty. Both fortunate for us, and not.

"Fuck this. Come on, I'm gonna shoot something." Gun Guy says.

"Wait." Loud Girl says. She pulls up her mask and inhales through her nose. "I think Baseball came back here." she says.

"Why?" I ask.

"Fuck if I know." she answers.

"Well that's not really telling us anything." Gun Guy says.

"It's telling us that he was here. He was probably caught by Zeke. Which means that they took him somewhere private. Doesn't get more private than the store room of a Walmart, especially if you want a fight." I say.

Pretty Boy shakes his head. "No, if he wanted a fight he'd just kill us. I'm guessing he can't. Baseball's probably just bait. So where do you want to go if you want to talk to the boss?" he says.

Loud Girl shrugs. "Your mom's?" she asks.

"Their office." he insists.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Gun Guy says.

Pretty Boy looks at him, sighs, and then says "BB just woke up. That's where he is."

"That's better." Gun Guy says before heading off.

[Part 1/2]
Get intel from BB's mind before entering!

"What's BB seeing?" I ask.

Pretty Boy smiles confidently, then frowns. "...I have no idea." he says, seemingly at a loss.


The office it seems, is guarded. It's guarded for under a minute by the time we get there. I swear though, it's not because we did anything. A horrifying screech is issued from inside the office rooms, and the men turn to run into the office immediately.

We filter in quick, to hear the sound of fighting. Or at least pitched thrashing. Upon entering the "Blue Meeting Room", a larger room, we find Baseball bound with chains thrashing about on the remnants of a table. His teeth look like a fucking bear's and his eyes glow freakishly yellow. His skin seems to have become scaled and his clothes are torn. He's probably about three feet larger than he used to be? Oh yes, and he's got wings coming off of the sides of his arms. They're bound.

Just above him, Zeke is standing at the far end of the room, smiling beatifically.

"Hello ladies and gentlemen. The pleasure is mine."

BB continues to thrash on the tabletop. There are six armed men with guns pointed at individuals within our group. Our tiger is growling. Or is that Loud Girl? I can't tell.

"What did you do to him?!" Food Girl demands, incensed.

"Nothing." Zeke starts.

"That's not nothing, you son of a bitch." Gun Guy says, pointing.

Zeke crouches to Baseball with inhuman alacrity, and many of our group draw guns. I draw my claymore.

"Look." he says, laying hands upon our friend. All at once, he stops thrashing and becomes more like the Baseball Boy we knew.

"He's alive!" Pretty Boy says quickly. "He's alive. Trust me."

Gun Guy doesn't lower his rifle.

"What the fuck is this?" I ask.

"What is this?" Zeke asks. "This is a shakedown."
Hey you guys, I'm sorry, but this has been a sorry ass thread. I may be able to continue from here tomorrow if all goes well, or sometime this week, but my day has been so fucking hectic. We're preparing for the baby, I'm planning a babyshower, and I can come up with a hundred more excuses, but I owe you guys better. I'm gonna try to continue tomorrow, but it's getting too late for me right now.

Sorry for sucking, but I'll make up for it as soon and as hard as I can. Thank you for reading, but the wife needs me to help take care of some stuff again. Goodnight.
k thx 4 runin budi gud thred
Good thread

Thanks for running it

Thanks for the thread, see you soon.

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