Look around for a lockbox.

>>2770999
>Look around for a lockbox.

>>2770999
>Look around for a lockbox.
Huh, digging it so far. I wonder what happened to this version's barn to get him in a fucking 'Institute"

Steal from carnies.
The dumbest option is go.
D100-5
DC:???

Rolled 83 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

Rolled 30 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>2771014

Rolled 96 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>2771014

Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>2771014
inb4 critfail

File: Cool hitler.png (20 KB, 174x162)

20 KB PNG

>>2771018
Nice, good start

91,
good shit.
writing

File: Spoiler Image (191 KB, 1280x720)

191 KB JPG

Fuck it, why settle for small fry? You spend the better part of an hour looking around the stalls for a suitably inattentive guardian and eventually you find one. You decide upon a suitably inbred looking carnie and mill about as a group closes in to take part in his game, pretending to be interested in the various distractions around you until the appropriate moment to strike. After the group has paid, played and left, you find yourself at the counter to the stall. It appears to be some sort of ball throwing game, and as the man in charge retrieves the balls you strike. Leaning over the counter, undoing the clasp on the box and scooping up a wad of cash in one fell swoop. You don't look at it, it's all far too fast for that but you do manage to see at least one fifty so hey, good job.

A small game of throwball later (paid for with your five finger discount.) and you're walking back down towards the centre of the park so that you can transfer the winnings from your pocket to your wallet. Or at least that was the plan. You're just about to sit down when a terrible cold feeling comes over you, and you start feeling dizzy, like the whole world is spinning around you, it's all you can do not to fall over and start vomiting on the floor. Then come the spasms, your hands and forearms shake viciously and burn like lightning is coursing through them. And he's there. He's always there watching you, ever since the accident. You sit and wait for it to subside as you stare at the monster, it's hideously long fingers at it's side caressing passers by. It takes a single step towards you, then disappears in a cloud of black oily smoke that washes over you and leaves you retching from the disgusting taste of it. Every time he appears, he get's closer.

Until you get your meds, then he'll go away. That's how it works, you're pretty sure.

Someone comes to check on you but you wave them away, making a half assed excuse about catching something "at work" then get up to leave. Counting your money as you go.
Seems like you got nearly a hundred dollars in total, good work. Now you just have to get halfway across the worst parts of the city without getting your shit stolen, then make a deal with the shady fucking Merchant on the end of your street without getting robbed. Piece of cake. With the thought of relief and a good night's sleep fresh in your mind you don't even notice the woman calling the police.

Barnaby Campbell.
Status:80%
Mental Status:Shaken
Money:93$
Inventory:A suit that's actually pretty good looking. A pair of shades you stole. Black mountaineering boots.
Maybe take the short way home, The quickest route.
The long route goes through safer areas of town, maybe that'll be better.
Something else.

>Maybe take the short way home, The quickest route.
we need to hurry because our mental state might get worse

>>2771118
>The long route goes through safer areas of town, maybe that'll be better.

>>2771118
Dammit Freddie Krueger. At it again with that daymare stalking shit.
>Maybe take the short way home, The quickest route.
Fastwalk, pretend we belong there and we're going places, and we won't be noticed.

>>2771118
>The long route goes through safer areas of town, maybe that'll be better.

>>2771118
>Maybe take the short way home, The quickest route.

>>2771118
>Short bus
Can't wait to see the powers

Short way home.
writing.

>>2771148
Considering the name and this vision, I'm guessing we're kinda like Legion: different "personalities" with different powers.

Take the Long Way Home

Faithless

I lift you off the earth mundane and glum
Out of solar system where you passed the sun
'Til all the fear in your heart is gone and so on

Walking trough the world with no pressure
Inner peace beyond measure
I was leaving where it came in
When a man said stop
I want to have what you have
and get what you got

I got it sleeping rough on the streets in the rain
I got it learning to share my peoples pain
I got it making flowers grow in hearts of stone
I got it 'cos I always take thee long way home

I've been walking trough the world with no pressure
As fresher full of vigor life becomes my mirror
The further I go the more I know
Oh yeah, wherever the wind blow I'll be there

Turned up in places that I never intended to go
And so…

Let's see how oily this monster get and how quickly...

You decide to take the shortest way there, it leads through some bad neighbourhoods sure, but it's not like Brockton Bay has any good neighbourhoods outside of the Boardwalk or maybe near the banks anyway. Your walk brings you through what used to be an area that was planned to be a sort of Medical District. You're actually live here, squatting in what used to be an old Hospital Ward. You have another fit on the way there, your hallucination getting closer, much closer. By the time you're at the Merchant's usual hangout at the end of the street you can feel the very tips of it's fingers dragging up and down your spine, and hear its rattling breath just outside your ears. But then you turn the corner and there you are.

The Merchant is named Evan, you think. You've heard his name before when he and his friends have broken into the various nearby buildings to get drunk and high. You rush up to him and look around, checking to see that there's no one else around. You're greeted by an easy (if somewhat sleazy) smile. The two of you have talked before, but he doesn't think you know his name, he's very adamant about not telling you that. You won't lie, secretly knowing it makes you a bit smug.

"Hey bro, you don't look so good."
That's probably the understatement of the fucking century. You're shaking and flinching as the cold and hallucinations take their toll.
"Yeah, well I'm not feeling too good to be honest. You got what I need?"

He looks around before answering, the grin on his face never wavering as he brings out a small bottle of pills. "Maybe, bit of a strange request though. people don't usually ask for psycho meds these days. There a story there?"

Yeah, I'm Homeless and crazy. Can we get this over with?
I don't see how that's your business man.
Yeah, I'm homeless and crazy, you wanna keep antagonising me?

>Yeah, I'm Homeless and crazy. Can we get this over with?

>>2771213
Yeah, im homeless and crazy, can we get this over with ?

>>2771213
>Yeah, I'm Homeless and crazy. Can we get this over with?

>>2771213
>Yeah, I'm homeless and crazy. Can we get this over with? The tall motherfucker with the long-ass fingers is starting to get closer, and I don't wanna find out what happens when he does.

>>2771213
>Yeah, I'm Homeless and crazy. Can we get this over with?

crazy homelessmind.
writing.

It seems VOID is inexplicably away again.
>inb4 QM curse strikes a fourth time

>>2771457
Maybe this time it was by a hobo mugger who wanted his meds.

>>2771457
I think the universe is telling him to stick to a single quest. IIRC, the QMCurse has striken once every new quest.

soeet, fell asleep. I'm back now

>>2771693
Whatever you say Barn

>>2771693
sorry rather.

>>2771698
also my name's bob

File: Protectorate ENE..jpg (213 KB, 2000x893)

213 KB JPG

You give him an exasperated look after he's finished his little display and throw your hands out to the sides before making your displeasure known. "Oh gee I don't know, maybe I'm a crazy homeless guy who just wants the voices to stop for an afternoon or so? I get that that might be weird dude, who the hell wants peace and quiet inside their mind?"

He giggles at that, before holding his hands out for the cash. "Alright man, whatever you say. Fifty bucks for ten pills, gimme the cash and we can get this over wi-" And that's where it all goes wrong. Evan's cut off by a laser blast from above, sending him flying a good foot or so backwards as fucking Assault jumps down from a nearby building shortly followed by some specky kid on a hoverboard. Three or four Merchants come out from behind various trash piles as well, one of them running to grab their friend while the rest square off against the literal superheroes. Dumb-asses. Then again, you can't exactly criticise them for it, nobody seems to have seen that coming.

You can feel another fit coming on, and you can also hear sirens rapidly approaching as the Protectorate hero speaks into some sort of communicator on his arm, red armour almost shining in the dark night.

"Yeah I got about six or so for pickup, got the crazy kid from St James' Institute too so you ought to tell 'em to get down here."

There are superheroes here, two fucking superheroes and you're on the shit end of the stick.
Oh, and you feel another fit coming on as the world darkens and chills, your hands shaking like leaves in a hurricane. Luckily, your Merchant friend seems to have dropped the meds rather close to you. And maybe if you're lucky the heroes will be preoccupied with the murderous gangsters over the crazy hallucinating guy.

That's you, you're hallucinating.

Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.
Just fucking leg it, the monsters aren't real. You know they aren't real. You can deal with it.
Grab something and try to fight the literal superheroes.

>Grab something and try to fight the literal superheroes.
SMASH THE SYSTEM

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>2771777
Meds and run!

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.

File: 777.png (296 KB, 300x440)

296 KB PNG

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.
Nice trips! Checked.

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it
I kinda hope we get some kind of trump power. Night nigras

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.
Fucking hell, they sent two superheroes for a bunch of Merchant thugs and an escapee?

>>2771797
nah, just a patrol most likely.

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.

Go for the meds.
roll me D100-10
DC???

>>2771777
>Go for the meds, then fucking leg it.

Rolled 68 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

Rolled 60 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>2771808
I enjoy Worm. The heroes are always the one fucking lives up. If they had just left us alone...

Rolled 6 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>2771808

Rolled 5 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2771808

Rolled 75 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2771808

Rolled 48 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2771808

>>2771824
It's dice+1d100+-10

Rolled 9 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>2771808
Crazy Train Time!

58
ehhhh
writing.

File: An abandoned hospital..jpg (110 KB, 670x444)

110 KB JPG

You dive for the medicine, the small white pill bottle bright against the darkened stone cobbles of the city pavements. The Merchants are getting the shit kicked out of them by the heroes though, and they're mostly unconscious by the time that you're back up. There's only one dude left and he's clearly had the same idea that you did, I.E to run the fuck away. Luckily that means that the heroes have to split up to follow you, Assault taking off after the remaining druggie while the asshat on the hoverboard follows you, occasionally taking shots with his laser pistol. It's kind of shit to be honest, feeling more like a strong punch than a laser and he's not a particularly good shot. Only landing a couple of hits.

You take one of the pills while you're sprinting back to your squat, trying desperately to lose your assailant in the city's backstreets. Unfortunately for you it doesn't work, and while you do manage to get back to the old Medical building, the kid is hot on your tail. He does seem to stop outside though, so that's a stroke of luck. You don't blame him though, if you were chasing an escaped mental patient into an abandoned Hospital building you'd probably stop and call for reinforcements too. Not doing that is how you get Jason'd. You turn and keep running deeper into the building, past your usual sleeping spot in the Chief medical officer's room and up the stairs towards the surgery floors.

It's cluttered up there and there's a million places to hide and evade pursuit, the safest place in the building really. Still you're going to have to think about his properly. Give it some more effort than just hiding in a storage closet and hoping that no one finds you. You ought to...

Barnaby Campbell.
Status:80%
Mental Status:Stable.
Money:2$
Inventory:A suit that's actually pretty good looking. A pair of shades you stole. Black mountaineering boots.
Look around the surgical areas and storage facilities, you might need to defend yourself.
Block the stairs, a couple of gurneys out to do nicely for that.
Start tying ropes together, maybe you can escape out of the back while they search.
Something else Write In.

>>2771976
>Start tying ropes together, maybe you can escape out of the back while they search.

>>2771976
>Start tying ropes together, maybe you can escape out of the back while they search.
Yeah no, they can easily kick those out of the way.

>make a rope and hang it out an open window then hide in a janitors closet
THE ART OF MISDIRECTION

>>2771986
>>2771976
I like this guy's idea. Make rope, hang out window, hide!

>>2771986
This

>>2771976
I'll second this. Make it look like we just cut through but stay hidden in the building.
>>2771986

>>2771976
>Start tying ropes together, maybe you can escape out of the back while they search.

>>2771986
Now that is damn clever, I'll Support this.

>>2771986
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WvfZuuaUkE
writing

You grab some old sheets, searching frenziedly through storage rooms and wards as the sirens in the distance get louder and closer, tying frantically to provide yourself with an escape route. It's about halfway through when you have an idea, why not chuck the rope out of a window to make it look like you've ran off but hide somewhere in the building? They'll head down to the street and search out there, giving you time to escape or find a better hiding spot. You're near an open window while tying, and you're just close enough to hear a particularly interesting conversation out the front of the hospital.

Assault and the unknown Ward are outside, talking to each other regarding The Ward's decision not to chase you inside.
"So what, you were scared? He's just one guy Kid."

"Yeah I know, I just thought that maybe I shouldn't chase a guy into an abandoned building alone. That's how you get slasher movie'd! Think about it, a nutso hiding in an old run down hospital? That just screams murder by way of insane BioTinker."

"You know he doesn't have any powers right? It's on his records."

"He's nuts, he could be getting superpowers at any minute! He might be tinkering away at some bullshit Tinkertech right now for all we know."

"Hold on now kid, I'm not beratin' ya. You made the right choice, I just wanted to hear your reasoning on it so I could figure you out a bit. I have to get to know you a bit if we're gonna work together. Remember, this is so we can figure out your strengths. I'm not gonna be a dick to you on your first day."

The Ward's voice is softer this time, less agitated and maybe a bit embarrassed. "Right, yeah sorry."

You would keep listening but your "rope" is finished, so you head to the other side of the building to let it out. The sirens are really close now, and you can hear police cars pulling up outside. as you tie off your distraction around a column. You need to hide, good christ you need to hide. You hurl the makeshift rope out the window then run, searching the hospital for a proper hiding space. You spot a few potential good ones.

There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.
Get in the Closet.
There's a small closet inside a partially wrecked room that'd probably be way too annoying to search.

There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.

>>2772169
>There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.

>>2772169
>There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.

>>2772169
There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.
Yeah the cops are going to be here a while. Worst case scenario we end up giving ourselves away due to all the banging in the vents.

>>2772169
>There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.
Who would check a vent?

>>2772169
Vents! Just be very still and no banging.

congradulations anons, you've went from mostly sane to hiding in the walls in less than an hour.
writing

File: xenomorph boss.jpg (121 KB, 891x648)

121 KB JPG

>>2772169
>There's a open vent that leads into the fucking walls. You could go full xenomorph on this shit.

>>2772211
Thanks!

>>2772211
>running away from long-fingered murderman
>mostly sane

>>2772211
So far the best Barnabies have been lacking in sanity

>>2772211
Thank You VOID, We try our hardest.

Not for the first time, you find yourself hiding from the authorities. For just a second you're back in the Institute, holding your breath and hoping that the orderlies can't find you or that they'll forget you on their rounds. Hiding to avoid Dr Owen's "therapy". Well you won't let them find you, not this time. You push your way through the broken vent, hiding in the pipes that run throughout the old walls and serve as a useful if treacherous ladder between floors. There's no floor in the walls, just thick piping and wood that can serve as handholds should someone find their way in there. The multiple story drop is scary at first, but you can't actually fall more than a couple feet before being caught on pipes so it's much safer than it looks. You climb down a floor from the vent opening, just in case someone decides to stick their head in and take a look around. Then you take up position.

You're actually quite comfortable when the police and capes come in, you're sat on a bunch of interlocking pipes that serve as a satisfactory seat.

You can hear them now, police officers moving swiftly throughout the old building as they check the rooms and search for you. It's not long before they enter the room you're looking into, Assault and the Ward looking in and around as the police search in lockers and through rooms. Ripping beds from their hinges and practically tearing the room apart in a determined effort to find you. You count maybe three officers through the small crack you're peering through. Fighting to keep your breath even and low as the police get closer and closer to your hiding place.

Then they're done, and the police are reporting back to the capes.
"We've got no sign of him sir, except an open window we reckon he climbed through. All other units are reporting the all clear as well. Most likely he's long one."
Assault huffs at that, before his confident grin reappears. "Ah, don't worry about it. You guys did your best, I'm sure we'll find him eventually." A high five is offered and begrudgingly accepted, the display of camaraderie causing a pang of sadness to go through you. How long has it been since you've had someone touch you without causing pain? How long since kindness wasn't a mask for some cruel intent? In that single moment, you feel more alone and afraid than ever before in your life. You've had some time to get over your family's death, but every tiny reminder still hurts. Every time you see people smiling and laughing brings back memories of your family, long soured with regret and twisted by insanity.

It's weird how even the tiniest things can hurt if they hit the right spot. A single word or action that pierces so deep.

Or it could be your medicine's depressive side effects. Frankly you don't even know what thoughts are yours any more.
Cont

An errant twitch, that's all it took. A minor readjustment of your hips and the whole construction of p

You wait there for a few hours, until you're absolutely sure that they're gone.
But then eventually comes the time to get up and leave, and with it comes risk.

An errant twitch, that's all it took. A minor readjustment of your hips and the whole construction of pipes twists and shatters as you try to move, dropping you a good ten feet before you're caught on some outcroppings of piping. Your leg slams heavily into the crook between two sets of piping and goes right through, the metal bending and twisting around your knee as you flail for grip. Your arm impacts a thick metal plate, elbow shattering on the steel as you desperately try to right yourself. Then you realise you're stuck in place.

You pull and twist, at first the pipes groan and it sounds like you're making good headway but then they snap together even harder. Causing a sickening crack and waves of agony to emanate from your now useless leg. It's with a sudden clarity that you're going to die here. There's no one to help you, no one is going to hear your screams through half a dozen thick walls and anyone who could have helped you is gone.

Then again, that's the usual isn't it? No one left who cares about poor Barnaby, no family to mourn him or friends to help. Maybe in a dozen years or so they'll bulldoze the place and find your bones. You're going to die, alone in the dark with no one to save you. And the only people who could would sentence you to the hell that is the Owens Institute of Mental Health. In that moment, you scream out for help. Banging at the walls and shouting yourself hoarse in the hopes that someone, Anyone might come and save you.

But no one does. You're stuck there for hours, whimpering as you fight to stay conscious through the pain. It's like you're being pulled down into unconsciousness, less like a blackout and more like when the orderlies would tranquilize you back in the Institute.

Eventually you fall into the blackness, your last mumbled word being a desperate plea for help.

[TRAJECTORY?]

[AFFIRMATIVE

[DESTINATION?]

[CONFIRMED]

You dream of many hands, lifting you up and away.

Cont.

>>2772418
OOOH BOY
POWERS HERE WE COME

Hype

File: download (1).jpg (4 KB, 300x168)

4 KB JPG

You awaken to the sensation of movement, and the familiar feeling of being strapped down on some sort of table or gurney as you're pushed through a hallway. Your eyes are having some trouble opening, and when they do successfully open they don't really see much, it's all far too blurry and out of focus. Your hearing however is only slightly effected, the fuzziness and unresponsive nature of the rest of your body seemingly not spreading to your ears.

"And the blood's taking?"
The voice is inhumanly deep and has a strange after-tone to it, like the buzzing of electricity along a wire. That's probably just your head though.

"Yes Doctor, no signs of rejection yet."
Huh, that one sounds a bit like mom.

"Excellent, we'll need to get him to surgery so I can fix his leg. How are the orderlies doing on bringing the generator back online?"
Wait, surgery?

"Not so well I'm afraid, damn thing's fried. We'll need to bring him up the stairs, or I could just blink him up I suppose. It might make things a bit awkward though if we're waiting for you in the surgery."
Blink? what on earth are they talking about? You're pretty sure you died, it's a little late for surgery.

"It's a shame about the generator, blinking him up is a good idea though. Get him started and I'll be with you in a moment. I have to go check on the other patient."

"Yes Doctor."

Then the gurney or stretcher is passed off to someone else, and you fall back asleep.

POV Select.
The Doctor
The Nurse
Orderly Two

>>2772493
>The Nurse

>>2772493
>Doctor

>>2772493
>The Nurse

>>2772493
>The Nurse

>>2772493
>The Doctor

>>2772493
>The Nurse

The Nurse
Writing

File: The Nurse.jpg (15 KB, 333x443)

15 KB JPG

You wonder as he walks away from you, whether your colleague truly understands the significance of Mr Campbell. You know deep down that you can't all have simply popped into existence, something must have created you and it can't be a coincidence that the abnormality in his brain emanates the same energy that feeds you all. There is only one possibility, the boy must be your creator. You suppose you'll figure it out when he awakes though, for now he has injuries that must be tended to.

You float towards the chair that the Doctor had so casually left, manipulating it with the greatest of care while you bring him to the operating theatre. Anything else would be ... well, you aren't particularly religious but heresy seems like the best word to use. For just a second you can't breathe, a quick sense of panic overtaking your body as you hurtle through nothingness. Then it's over and you're stood in front of your destination.

Standing is somewhat of an exaggeration, considering your lack of legs but it makes things easier to think of them in such terms.

You push the wheelchair inside, the dusty old room will suffice, but you'd much rather be doing this in a properly sterile environment. You busy yourself with preparing for the knee and arm surgeries while thinking, you've found in the short time that you've been alive that you actually rather enjoy menial work. It busies your hands and frees your mind up to think on other matters instead of worrying. You can't wait for Mr Campbell to wake up, gosh you have so many questions! what were you made for? What are you supposed to do? Why do you only have one nurse and doctor while having two orderlies?

To be perfectly respectful to Mr Campbell, you seem dreadfully understaffed. Not to mention the terrible state that the buildings are in, all dusty and damaged. Running on emergency power. Now you think of it, the last time you checked it was a legal requirement to have a therapist available as well. No... Stop it Nancy, you're moaning about stuff you can't fix again.

It takes a good twenty minutes before the Doctor turns up again, no doubt having taken his time on the way up. But eventually surgery can begin. It's a rather simple procedure of course. If the Doctor is capable in his required skill the same way you are, there's no way it could possibly go wrong.

D100+10
DC:40,50,60,70,80

Rolled 57 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2772637

Rolled 68 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2772637
Well this power definitely sounds interesting...

Rolled 93 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2772637

Rolled 24 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2772637

File: 1499908877778.png (192 KB, 428x500)

192 KB PNG

>>2772654

>>2772654
This doctor's a professional, damn it.

>>2772654
103
very noice
writing

File: 1483932145949.jpg (114 KB, 1200x900)

114 KB JPG

alas poor QM VOID, I hardly knew thee

>>2772637
So our power is to make people that only exist in our head real? Fuck, mister long fingers is probably coming up the stairs now

>>2772805
It hasn't even been an hour, anon, you must have more hope. Not that uncommon, honestly.

The Doctor is a tall man, wearing a long white coat over a shirt and waistcoat. That unfortunately is where the similarities to humanity end. His head and hands (the only visible parts of him) are twisted masses of steel and surgical implements twisted around pipe and concrete. His right hand is less of a manipulation implement, and more like a swiss army knife, with scalpels scissors, needles and pens rising to the fore or retreating back into the metal mass when needed. His left hand is concrete, and the only smooth part of him that you can see. It is unclear whether it can actually open or close.

He stands above the injured boy, slowly removing the bandages that served as a stopgap measure until surgery could be performed. Then he begins his work. Nancy knows that surgery is gruesome work, but the Doctor makes it look almost beautiful such is his skill. Shattered bone is pinned back together in instants, the tendons reassembled and flesh knit back together so fast that the eye can barely track it. It's maybe five minutes before the boy's shattered leg is completely reassembled and the arm goes even quicker. It's not long before the arm and leg are both in casts and ready to heal, Mr Campbell being wheeled down to a room on the first floor.

With his work complete, the Doctor and the Nurse set to clearing up the surgery, the clinks of bottles and the swish of mopping being the only sounds for quite some time. That is, until their young charge awakens.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You awaken in a surprisingly comfortable bed, arm and leg in casts. For a long minute you allow yourself to relax, almost dozing off until a particularly unpleasant thought hits you.
You're in a hospital. That means someone found you and brought you into the hospital and that means they'll have checked your medical records. You jerk into full consciousness and immediately regret it, being bombarded with a dozen strange feelings and sensations all at once. You can sense something on the floor above you, and get the general impression of... cleaning?

It's after closing your eyes that you really get a shock though. One second you were looking up at the roof of a dimly lit hospital ward, now you're looking at that same hospital ward from the top. You've got a perfect birds eye view of yourself, sitting in a bed with your leg and arm in casts. Christ, you can see yourself breathing. It's exhilarating actually, the realization that you have powers. How long did those bastards in the Institute torture you, hoping for just this result? Now you've done it all on your own!

You take another look around the place, it's like you've got a mental map of the place. You can see from practically any angle, even from inside cupboards and boxes.

You're so enamoured with your incredible new ability that it takes some time for two revelations to become apparent.
Cont.

Revelation Number One: This is not the ruined hospital you almost died in, that one consisted of a single large building with many floors. This place is a set of multiple smaller buildings, separated by overgrown and neglected gardens.

Revelation Number two: While you've been looking around this new hospital, something has entered the Ward and is poking your body.

Panic and run away.
See if you can DO something.
No worries, you're practically omniscient in here, say hello.

>>2772821
>No worries, you're practically omniscient in here, say hello.

>>2772821
>Do something
We can do this and say hello, right?

>>2772821
Wait, was the nurse only the dress? Cause the doctor seems like he's Edward Scissorhands' more successful brother

>>2772821
>See if you can DO something.

>>2772831
yes, the nurse is literally a floating dress.

>>2772821
>No worries, you're practically omniscient in here, say hello.

>>2772821
>No worries, you're practically omniscient in here, say hello.

>>2772821
>No worries, you're practically omniscient in here, say hello.

Say hello

>>2772835
The second we start actually using this power, we should start calling ourselves Bogeyman, or Bandersnatch

>>2772913
*Bugbear

>>2772913
>>2772918
Schizomedic?

overconfidence sounds like a good idea.
writing

>>2772913
I really like Bogeyman, it's a nice double reference to both our power and our condition.

>>2772925
I wonder if they're permanent? They're definitely sentient. I just can't wait till we start making our childhood fears into our bestest friend

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>>2772938

>>2772814
So we used to be tested on to see if we could get superpowers. can you tell us what exact mental illness we have?

>>2772973
Clearly schizophrenia, with the visual hallucinations and paranoid behavior

>>2772973
You were perfectly sane when you went in, i'll tell you that much.

>>2772978
Interesting, very interesting.

You swing your consciousness back around to the recovery ward and open your eyes, ready to greet whatever might be there. Imagine your shock when you're presented with a faceless man. He's wearing a grey shirt with dark pants and carries a large baton on his belt. You flinch away at first, considering he was poking you but once he has your attention the strangeness continues. You don't hear what he says, it's more like a package of concepts that conveys a general idea appearing in the back of your head.

[Generators Broken][Require Parts+Technical Expertise]

"What?"

[Generators Broken][Require Parts+Technical Expertise]

"Why is that my problem? Who are you?"

[Other Patient Incapable][General Purpose Maintenance and Protection]

There's silence for a moment, before the being continues.
[Patient 2 Status Critical][Biological Contamination][Dialysis Machine Necessary][Dialysis Machine Requires Power]

"Hold on a second, I've gone nuts again haven't I? This is another hallucination."

[Negative][Patient 2 Status Critical][Designate Director Capable of Creation=Y]

"What does it matter? None of this is real, I'll wake up on a street corner somewhere. Or in the goddamn loony bin."

[Anger][Director Must Perform Function]
This declaration is much more forceful, for lack of a better word and the being brandishes it's nightstick menacingly. taking a step towards the bed and thoroughly intimidating you. It looks like you might be about to receive a beating before a voice rings out, shocking both of you out of your standoff.

"The Director is currently experiencing cognitive difficulties Orderly, Stand down."

You look past the guard to gaze upon your saviour, a hideous monstrosity made of hooks and surgical implements pushing a small wheelchair. Good to see that your sanity is holding up alright. Oh and he's got an empty floating nurse uniform next to him, how lovely.

The two of the roll the wheelchair forwards up to your bed, stopping right at the end. The monster in the Doctor's coat is the first one to speak, bringing up a small clipboard in a concrete hand.
"Mr Campbell, how nice to meet you. May I be the first to welcome you here to uh, here. It doesn't really have a name yet. Anyway, I am a Doctor and I also don't have a name. We simply popped into existence a few hours ago and apparently you're responsible."
He sits down on the edge of the bed now, taking care not to actually sit on your legs.

"I'm sure you have lots of questions, but we only have time for a few before we do actually need you to do some things for us. I'll answer whatever we time for."

Why aren't I terrified right now? I feel like I should be scared, but I'm not.
Where the fuck am I actually?
How am I supposed to know that this isn't all a hallucination?
Something else

>>2773028
>Where the fuck am I actually?

>>2773028
>Where the fuck am I actually?
>How am I supposed to know that this isn't all a hallucination?

>>2773028
>Where the fuck am I actually?
>How am I supposed to know that this isn't all a hallucination?
>Why aren't I terrified right now? I feel like I should be scared, but I'm not.
In order of importance.

>>2773028
>Who is patient 2?
>What does it mean by Biological Contamination?

where the fuck am I .
is any of this real?
writing.

>>2773028
How am I supposed to know that this isn't all a hallucination?

Well that's a hell of a thing to say. It's nice to talk to someone for once, but you kind of feel somewhat put on the spot. When someone asks you to ask a question, all the questions dry up. No matter how many questions you have beforehand. In the end, you dig around a bit in your mind and choose some of the more important seeming ones. "Where actually am I? What is this place?"

The Doctor and his entourage look between themselves for a moment, all looking rather embarrassed as they try and figure something to say. It's the Nurse outfit that answers in the end, much to your surprise. "We don't know... It's a hospital, that's basically all we can figure out. It's rather strange actually, we all know our way around the place and where everything is but we've never been here before."

The Doctor and Orderly nod at that, before the Doctor continues where the Nurse left off.
"It's not just a hospital either, there's facilities for long term mental and physical therapy as well. We have everything, except power and people. The other thing I should probably mention is that the exit's locked. It's got some kind of hand scanner built into the gate that none of us can open. We were kind of hoping that you might know more about that?"

The way he says that clearly denotes it as a question, you can't make heads or tails of his face but his disappointment is still fairly evident as you shake your head. "Sorry I don't know anything about that. I've never actually even seen one of those hand scanner things outside of movies."

There's a moment of quiet as the three look between each other, then back to you.

[Disappointment][Crushed Hope]

The Nurse keeps speaking, seeking some good news.
"You're sure you can't remember anything? You've got to know something right?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just some crazy homeless guy. I'm still pretty sure this is just a really complicated episode. This might be hard to believe but I've seen crazier stuff while off my meds."

The three of them look between each other again, and seem to almost deflate as you look at them. The Orderly is fiddling with his baton while the doctor messes with his hand. It's a difficult question, and none of them really seem to know how to answer. Eventually the Orderly speaks up.
[Irrelevant][Available Data Requires Action]

"He's right. If you are insane then helping us won't hurt anyone. If you aren't mad then that means someone is dying and needs your help. Whichever it is, the safest course of action is to help us." The nurse reaches over and places your clothes on the end of the bed, before crossing her arms.

Well shit, fair enough. What do I have to do?
I can't help, I'm not a doctor or anything.

>>2773166
>Well shit, fair enough. What do I have to do?

>>2773166
>Well shit, fair enough. What do I have to do?

>>2773166
>Well shit, fair enough. What do I have to do?

>>2773166
>Well shit, fair enough. What do I have to do?

What do I do
writing.

A few minutes later and you're in a wheelchair, being pushed through the dusty and disused looking corridors towards the central courtyard. It's a bit irritating that you can't move your body while projecting your sight around the hospital, but you suppose that it doesn't really matter given how fucked your leg is. Apparently you're looking at weeks for it to heal properly. It would've been nice to get some sort of healing power but hey, you can't always get what you want. You know this better than anyone. Once you're there in the main courtyard you see your destination, the power station.

The generators are placed in separate places across the complex for safety reasons. The Hospital proper is powered by a central building that contains three generators. You'll need to get one of these working before you can treat the mysterious Patient 2, who apparently has about six hours to live from now. The other Orderly is there, trying desperately to fix the generator with what limited spare scrap and parts that they already have, failing miserably. From the concepts that One has been beaming into your head you gather that while they can keep stuff working, the Orderlies don't actually have the technical know-how to fix anything and that's your problem.

"Shit" You exclaim, looking over the broken and rusting power generators. When they said generators you expected those petrol ones based off car engines, not fucking turbines and transformers. Now the Orderlies not being able to fix them makes much more sense. You'd need dedicated engineers for something like this. At least if you wanted to fix them with the parts you have now.
You see, the problem is that each one is missing several components, while the Orderlies know how to replace them they don't know how to fix them. If you could get your hands on the full, functioning parts then they'd be able to fix them that way.

You hum to yourself while taking another dose of your medication. The last thing you need now is to start freaking out about mister long arms.

A few ideas occur to you that might just work. Firstly the parts that need replacing differ from generator to generator. Maybe if you cannibalized a few you'd have enough to fix one, that could permanently damage the others though, so you'd rather not if possible. Secondly, you could have the group split up and look for whatever might serve as a stopgap measure, you'd have to hope that it would last long enough to help the patient though, and it might take far too long. Thirdly, you could check out the lock on the front gate. Maybe you can open it? There's no guarantee that you'd be able to get the parts you need out there though.

After all, you didn't remember such a large forest being in Brockton Bay.

Check the lock.
Look for parts to Jury rig them with.
Machine Cannibalism.
Something else. Write In

>>2773203
>Look for parts to Jury rig them with.

>>2773203
>Look for parts to Jury rig them with

Okay, so I've got to head off for two, maybe three hours. I'll be right back and running then

>>2773203
>Machine Cannibalism.
I'd rather not have the other patient die while we fix the generators

Cannibalism

>>2773203
Look if we created these people because we needed help to survive shouldn't we be able to create the engineer/parts that we require?

Spend a minute trying to will the shit into existence

>>2773203
>Look for parts to Jury rig them with
Do we even know who this Patient 2 is? I'm not too stressed about saving him honestly.

>>2773234
>>2773203
i'll switch to supporting willing engineers into existence

Jury riggin.
writing

>>2773277
Asleep again?

yeh sorry.
I'll get back to writing.

>>2773483
Actually, could you anons roll me some dice
D100+5
DC:???

Rolled 69 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2773487

Rolled 32 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2773487
Oh cool, I caught it live

okay. writing

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>2773487

"Alright, so what do you guys want me to do exactly? I can't fix any of this shit."

"We were hoping you could do something Mr Campbell, it's not like we actually know what you're capable of."

[Creator Must Create][Require parts Or Technical Knowledge]

"Yeah, I get it. give me a second. You know that isn't very helpful right? Even if this is real I sure don't know how it works."

It's at this point that the Nurse speaks up, kind of unsure sounding as she floats around the room, brushing absentmindedly at the dirtiest spots. "Have you tried just willing what we need into existence? That might be what he means."

Eh, might as well give it a go.
You close your eyes and focus, going into your out of body "thing". You really need a name for it. Then you focus on the idea of parts, thinking over and over to yourself "I need to fix this. I need to fix this." You even push out your hand and do one of Myrddin's hand gestures, which you feel makes you look a bit silly. You're shocked out of your focus when the generators as one, spin up and try to turn on before backfiring or fizzing out. You even check the others with your sight and they're sputtering and failing to activate as well, thick black smoke pouring from them as they fail.

A sudden revelation. You're connected to this place beyond just being trapped in it. Whatever this place is, it answers to you.
The thought comes in from the back of your head, seemingly unbidden by your own mind and almost foreign seeming, like back when your hallucinations were all auditory.

The sudden knowledge fuels your determination and you keep pushing, the generators slowly spinning up. Crashing and restarting every few seconds as your focus sharpens and grows stronger. Somewhere in the back of your mind it occurs to you that you're focusing through the mental fog brought on by your medication.

Every time they restart though, there's one of them that keeps spinning just a little bit longer. The generator over by the Mental Health centre is actually starting to work. It's smoking black and throwing off sparks rather worryingly though.

Keep pushing
Let it go, you'll Jury rig it.

>>2773541
>Keep pushing

>>2773541
>Keep pushing

>>2773541
>Keep pushing
Probably the first time in a long time that old Barny has some control over the things in his life; he can't give up now.

>>2773541
>Keep pushing

Of course, because this will work out well for everybody.
push it, push it good.
writing.

sorry, got dinner.
was delayed a bit by food.
update soon.

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I am electrical technician with training in instrumentations , high voltage switching operations and advanced programmable logic controllers keep pushing my dude ...
Would say turn everything off first stop trying to turn the hospital generarors on under load ..
Turn everything off , then will the generators to start then one by one turn the critical systems on..can we install some solar panels:):)

You keep pushing, now focusing entirely on that last generator. It's slowly but surely starting back up now, sparking and belching smoke sure, there's an occasional hiccup in it's working every so often yes, but within a few minutes even the others can hear it. Eventually the heavy clanking and rumbling gives way to a sweet background purr.

You can see the lights turn on over on the eastern side of the complex, illuminating not only the mental health centre and asylum, but also a small shack off in the forest, made of scrap metal and decorated with various animal horns. Because that's not intimidating at all. The others seem somewhat confused, and quickly begin questioning your actions.

"Oh hey, a generator's running!"

"Not the one we need though."

[Anticipation]

You look over at the shack, watching warily for whatever happens next. You see the door open, a bandaged hand slowly sliding the scrapmetal door to the side as a bandaged man in overalls exits the makeshift building, a box of tools under one arm and a double barreled shotgun tucked under the other. He closes the door behind him, and you notice that he's moving strangely. He's jerky and stiff, reminding you almost of a stop motion movie. Once he's outside of the building and the door is closed he seems to relax, so much in fact that he almost falls over. After righting himself he looks around, seemingly rather confused.

You're about to suggest someone going over to him, but that's when the mental health centres generator explodes and you're consumed by total agony. You burn and freeze at the same time, lightning crackling across your ribs as your brain dissolves. You're in too much pain to even scream, the sheer indescribable agony so incredibly potent that there simply is no way to describe it that makes sense. You're in too much pain to notice, but the complex seems to feel it too. The PA system screeches and howls in bestial tones as glass cracks and wood shatters in the mental health centre. Not only that but the grass there dies in a great circle around the building as the trees wither and perish, once proud oaks and redwoods bowing and bending, subsumed with rot.

The last thing you see before you black out is the long fingered man standing at the edge of the dead grass, twisted limbs reaching for the bandaged engineer.

Cont

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Your name was Clancy.

That's one of the few things you remember that you honestly care about. The rest of it is just skills. How to fix an engine, change tires and so on. How to shoot a gun and catch a fish, stuff your Pa's supposed to teach you. You can't remember him though, just a general idea of what he's supposed to have been like. Like you've got an abstract concept in your head that's taken over what your practical understandin' should be.

Heh, and Ma said all that time reading would never bear fruit. Screw you Ma, I got a damn PHD, what you got?! Too many kids and not enough money that's what.

What's a PHD again?
Damn, it was on the tip o' your tongue.

Well never mind that, you have a job to do. Best get to work. Wait no, do you have anything to do?

Yeah, yeah. You very definitely know that the generators are s'posed to be on. And they ain't, so that's a problem.

You look towards the main complex, noting the complete absence of any lights on. Well that ought to be your first stop, doctors can't work in the dark after all. Except you, but you're not the same kind of doctor as them. You take a look around, enjoying the cool night breeze for just a moment longer as you get ready to get moving. Then everything goes to shit.

It starts with an explosion that your mind very helpfully explains is a generator exploding, but that is swiftly drowned out by the PA system going fucking berserk while the building you're next to seems to age two hundred years in about ten seconds. The metal rusts and wood splinters as the whole damn building leans rather ominously to the side, wobbling slightly.

And that's not the worst of it.

As you stand there, trying desperately to figure out the situation. You hear a wheezing breath from behind you, and feel a creeping sense of wrongness that makes your asshole pucker and your hair stand up. There's something behind you, and a everything about you is telling you to get fucking gone.

Turn around and start swinging that toolbox like crazy, twenty pounds of metal will hurt like a bitch, especially when swung by such a robust guy.
Fucking run!
Turn around and put two shells in whatever it is, then reload and observe.

>>2773740
>Fucking run!

>>2773740
Fucking run!

>>2773740
>Fucking run!
MA AN'PA NEVER TAUGHT US THE BASICS OF CQC!

The only tool i would throw at a threat is my belt knife, tools ate expensive and to useful to throw around..
Fucking run!

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>>2773740
As much as I wanna toolbox robust the motherfucker and go full SS13 engineer, I know this shit is out of our league.
>Fucking run!

>>2773740
>Fucking run!

Clancy is a smart guy.
1d100+10
DC:40,80

Rolled 59 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2773760

Rolled 47 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2773760

Rolled 35 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2773760

Rolled 91 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2773760
don't die don't die don't die don't die don't die

Rolled 41 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

Rolled 17 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2773760

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>>2773766
KEKED WITHIN TWO SECONDS
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

>>2773767
>just two seconds away
At least we passed the first DC so we're not completely fucked.

>>2773690
>>2773695 >>2773740
Do you think this was better than the alternative?

Well, he's alive.
writing.

You know it's the wrong thing to do, you know it can't possibly help you, but you turn and look behind you anyway. Just in case your mind is playing tricks... It's a poor choice.

The beast is standing in the open, but despite that it seems unaffected by the moonlight. Still wreathed in shadow despite how bright the night actually is. It's hideously twisted features unnaturally long and sharp looking as they stretch towards you. You stand there paralyzed as it slowly closes in on you, your legs refusing to move and your will to survive deserting you. The monster raises it's sharp fingers, preparing to strike and finally you find your wits. You raise your toolbox as the blades come down, praying to the Creator that the thick metal will protect you from the beast.

The tools are swiped from your hands and you're sent backwards, rolling through the dirt as the beast shakes the box off of its claws before picking it up and shaking it, letting out a wheezing chuckle.

"You sum'bitch, gimme that back!"

The beast simply walks towards the ruined therapy building, toolbox clutched in it's claws. It turns to look back at you before opening the door into the building, a gruesome smile playing across his face.

You spot two blue specks through the door behind him.

Nah fuck this, you choose life. Pa always said to appreciate what you got.
Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.

Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.
Pa ain't raise no Bitch

>>2773849
>Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.
Shotguns work on horror movie monsters.

>>2773849
>Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.
Pretty sure we're fucked anyway if we can't get this guy to fix the generators so we're gonna need that toolbox. Still feel like this is going to end horribly though.

>>2773849
>Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.

>>2773849
>Put two shells in the bastard, Pa also said not to let someone fuck you over and walk away.

Violence
D100+5 for???
DC:30,65

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>2773910

Rolled 41 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2773910

Rolled 4 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2773910

>>2773919
Seems like our Pa taught us well.

Rolled 5, 3, 1, 3, 2, 4, 4, 2, 5, 1, 1, 1, 4, 2, 1, 5, 5, 5, 4, 4, 3, 5, 1, 2, 5 = 78 (25d5)

>>2773910

Rolled 87 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2773910
>>2773935
Wrong dice.

>>2773919
you did good anon.
writing

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"No fuck you, I need that!"

You rush to your feet and bring up the shotgun, both barrels pointed squarely at the monster's face as you hurl all manner of inventive insults its way. You breathe in, then out, then fire. Buckshot impacts heavily with it's back, blasting it forwards into the door just in time to catch fifty thousand volts to the face. The beast staggers back as lightning rakes across it and causes it to convulse, it's flesh blackening and burning where the energy meets it.

You step back and reload as the monster roars angrily, twitching and convulsing as it's forced away from the therapy building. The Therapist is standing in the doorway now, focusing all of his energies on keeping the beast at bay. He's tall and muscular, wearing a tattered suit and electroshock gear. He's probably the most human of any of you actually, excepting his visibly lightning-infused veins.

You finish reloading and take aim at the monster's hand, your shot blows it clean off and frees the toolbox from the beast's grasp. You run up closer, possessed by a burning rage and place your shotgun up against its head just as the Therapist runs out of juice.

"Now Git."

Your last shot blows it's head clean in half, causing it to howl in pain and explode into cloud of oily black smoke that sends you coughing and spluttering. The Therapist walks up to you afterwards and laughs, patting you gently on the back before addressing where the monster once was.

"Yeah! How does that make you feel, Jackass?!"

You let out a chuckle at that, before snatching up your tools and pulling him towards the main building.

"I'm all for makin' some fun doc, but until I see a body he ain't dead. We oughtta get gone."

"I hear that! Yo, you know what happened to my Office? It kinda uh... died I guess."

"Dunno man, shit's spooky."

And with that, the two of you haul ass back towards the main building. The moon's glare illuminating your path.
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I think now's a good point to leave it for tonight, because it's four to midnight and I need to sleep.
As always, feel free to discuss stuff and ask questions at any time. I'll answer to the best of my ability.

>>2774177
>four to midnight
4 AM or 400?

>>2774177
I think it's funny that everyone's a victim and stuck in a creepy ass mindscape.

So is this part going to be an edgy Theme Hospital? I love that game

>>2774207
23:56

>>2774211
what do you mean by everyone's a victim?

>>2774177
I'm really digging this. I really like the concept of lonely, powerless Barnaby getting a power that seems to give him his own little world with subjects to go with it - but is vulnerable to his own fucked up mental condition.

Assuming we didn't completely remove our chances of saving patient 2, how long do we have left out of those 6 hours?

>>2774250
probably about five and a half.
That fight was actually over pretty quick.

>>2774236
Well they're not there if their own free will. They just appeared out of thin air to exist in a creepy, run down hospital that exists inside of a crazy guy's head. I'd call that being a victim of Barnaby's power.

if they can leave, I suppose he's just their weird daddy and their family home just happens to be creepy.

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To understand recursion one must understand recursion

You awaken to the smell of sterilized floors and bright electric lights, groaning as you keep your eyes shut tight to escape the far too bright lights. Then it hits you, lights! You must have managed to get the generator online. The sudden thought energizes you, and you peel your eyelids apart as swiftly as you can. (which admittedly isn't that quick) Christ, whatever happened must have really done a number on you. It feels like you've got John Bonham playing a solo inside your skull. You lurch forwards as your eyes adjust to the light, sitting yourself up in bed and looking around at your surroundings.

You're in a different room to the one you first woke up in, this one is clearly some kind of office. It's all mahogany and thick carpet. None of the tiles or steel common in the hospital outside. You're sat up in a small cot placed in the corner of the room, just opposite a large wooden desk, behind which the Doctor is sat. His right hand has pushed a pen to the forefront and he's scribbling away at a yellowed notebook, occasionally stopping to think. You notice that he seems to have some sort of nervous tic, frequently tapping the table with his concrete fingers.

"...hey."

Your throat is screwed, but you manage to force the words out all the same. You figured that you probably should get his attention, he was probably waiting for you to wake up after all.

Your croak does manage to snap him out of whatever funk he was in and he quickly stands up from the desk, asking questions even before he's over by your side. They're the fairly basic medical ones you've heard a thousand times before, what day is it, how many fingers am I holding up and so on... You seem to answer satisfactorily because he stands up after a short check and nods. He can't really emote, but his voice has a definite upwards tilt when he realizes you're not in any immediate danger.

"Good to see you're alright Mr Campbell. We were worried for a bit there, Nancy wanted to put you on life support just in case." He's silent for a moment before offering you a glass of water and continuing. "You probably want to know what happened after you blacked out, correct?" You nod, and he stands back, giving you a bit of space while he explains. "Yes I thought so. The Nurse and I took you inside while we sent the Orderlies to see what happened. When they returned, they had two new arrivals with them. A mechanic and a therapist who then used our spare parts to repair one of the generators. The Nurse and Orderlies have been seeing to our patient ever since, he was going through drug withdrawal and needed attention. Ever since, I've been here looking over you and trying to figure out what this place is."

You put down the now empty glass before clearing your throat, confused. "We're in a hospital right? Can't be that hard to get. All we have to do is figure out where it is, then we can call someone to pick us up and get us out."

Cont

He shakes his head at that

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He shakes his head at that, fiddling with his tie nervously. "It's not quite that easy. I don't think we are anywhere, I had one of the Orderlies climb up to the roof and take a look around, but he couldn't see anything, just forest in every direction. Wherever we are, I don't think we're supposed to be here. I've had some other ideas as well, but I'd rather air them with the others around if that's alright with you. I'd rather we all talked about this together and figured out what we'll do now that we're not on a deadline. I was thinking that I could call the others to meet in the cafeteria and we could talk things through."

I'd like to hear these ideas of yours first. I don't think getting up and about just yet would be that good for me.
Sure, that would be great. It'd be nice to meet these new guys as well.

>>2775827 I
Ideas! He knows what’s wrong here aside from the power being out, let’s find out.

>>2775827
>I'd like to hear these ideas of yours first. I don't think getting up and about just yet would be that good for me.

>>2775827
>I'd like to hear these ideas of yours first. I don't think getting up and about just yet would be that good for me.

Getting out of bed is for losers and people with fully functioning legs. Gimme dat theory doc.
writing

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>>2775844
BUT THAT'S JUST A THEORY
A MADMAN'S THEORY
THANKS FOR WATCHING

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"I don't think I'm ready for getting up quite yet Doc, how aout you tell me those theories of yours and we go from there?"

He nods, then pulls the notebook out of his coat. He flips a couple of pages back, then starts to talk.

"So far I'm only absolutely sure of a few things. These facts form the basis of my idea, everything apart from that is conjecture. So take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt. First of all, we know that you are linked with the medical complex in a deep way. The Orderlies call you a "Creator" and insist you can manipulate the world around us, we know this to be at least partially true because of how you can manipulate the generators. I also believe that the connection is two way, because when the generator exploded you blacked out."

"It hurt too. worse than anything else in my life. It felt like I was being struck by lightning, burnt and frozen all at once.

He looks a bit perturbed by that, but swiftly recovers. "Right, well that just gives more credence to my theory. The land was damaged and so were you. I can think of two things that might mean. Firstly is that it's all in your head. This is actually all in your head and it's just a creation of your psyche. I certainly feel real, but I don't know enough about mental illness to say for sure. Split personalities often believe themselves to be real, separate people. The other possibility is that we're in some sort of pocket dimension or reality, and you're somehow responsible for its creation. The last thing we know for certain is that when generators activate, new people show up. The engineer and therapist are one example, but more Orderlies appeared after after we fixed the first generator in the hospital building, so that is certainly true."

"More Orderlies?"

"Yes, we have five of them now. They're cleaning the Hospital building as we speak. I think that bringing more generators online might bring us some more help, or at least allow us to shed some more light on the situation. Pun not intended. Unfortunately we are currently unable to do so, the engineer had to dismantle the exploded generator for enough parts to fix just one of the main three generators."

"So how are we going to get more parts?"

"Well, the only option we have left to try is the main gate, but it's locked with a hand scanner. (I think I've already mentioned that.) None of us can open it, but maybe you can."

Yeah, I think that might be the best Idea. Give me some time to rest up, then we'll check.
It's a good idea, I'd want to talk to others first though. See what else we might be able to think of.

Behold, my shitty MSpaint map

>>2775897
>It's a good idea, I'd want to talk to others first though. See what else we might be able to think of.

>>2775897
>It's a good idea, I'd want to talk to others first though. See what else we might be able to think of.

>>2775897
Good idea, talk to others

need to take a break for a bit. be back at six or so.

>>2775897
>It's a good idea, I'd want to talk to others first though. See what else we might be able to think of.
>What if I try to change some useless junk into actual parts we could use to fix the other two generators? If I really can mess with whatever we have here, then morphing things we don't need into things we do need is something, isn't it? (laugh a little) I never had much control of anything in my life until now. It feels nice.

>>2775957
+1

>>2775947
What timezone are you in?

>>2775971
He's a brit bong like me, and it for us it'll be 6 in a hour

>>2775957
Ooooh I like this idea.

Let’s have some orderlies find some crap and let’s experiment with it. Does material matter? Does shape? Can we even do it?

sorry for lateness, but I return
I'll talk to the others first with a side of what If I can just fucking will that shit into existence?
writing

"Okay, I guess that's the next step then. There's something I'd like to try first though. If you call everyone to meet in the cafeteria, could you get an Orderly to bring some spare parts or metal scrap, something like that?"

"Sure." He nods, then moves over to his desk and presses down on a button there, speaking into a microphone protruding from the surface of the desk. "Can we all meet in the cafeteria? The Director has woken up, and he wants to talk. Also, can the Orderlies bring as much metal scrap or trash as is feasible? I think he's had an idea." He steps back afterwards, and not too long later you're being wheeled down the corridors towards the cafeteria. It's on the second floor just above reception, and it takes up pretty much the whole floor. It's fairly basic, just a large room with a few rows of tables and benches. One wall is dominated by what looks like an old buffet platter, like those ones in hotels, while a door leads into what looks like a kitchen.

Two Orderlies are over by the buffet, cleaning rotten food from the various receptacles and thoroughly sanitizing the area while the Engineer and Therapist "Supervise". In reality they're mostly making offhand quips and sharing a can of shitty Polish beer that never seems to run out. "Aw man, that's fuckin' nasty. How can horror movie bad guys live like this?"

It's not too long after that the Nurse appears, pushing the door from the kitchen open and floating through the room. She stops briefly to nod your way before floating over and harassing the two from the Therapy building. "Oh come on you two, get up and put some elbow grease into it. Many hands make light work after all. You'll get a rest when the others turn up." They grumble and moan, but are herded by the tiny floating uniform into helping the Orderlies.

Eventually the other three Orderlies turn up, with a small bag of what looks to be auto parts being held at arms length by the first one to come through the door. The others finish up their cleaning and you all sit around a table once everyone is ready. The lot of them are sat around, drinking talking and generally waiting for someone to say something important.

You clear your throat and wait for them to quiet down, looking around at the group as they slowly start to wind down, focusing their attention on you.

"Uh, hey guys. I'm Barnaby, nice to meet you all. I'm stuck here too. The Orderlies think I'm some sort of god, and they might be sort of right..?" Great fucking work Barnaby, now they think you're an asshole. Why not demand a golden throne or a harem while you're at it. You cringe internally at your awkward choice of wording, before the others shock you with their responses. Or rather, their lack of response.

"Yeah, makes sense."
"He started a generator with his mind."
"It doesn't mean he's a god, I can shoot lightning and that's far more godly."

Cont

>>2776406
I like the quest so far OP, waiting for the update.

The bickering about semantics begins immediately, and goes on for some time before the Nurse steps in to quiet the other three, shushing them like an overly enthusiastic librarian and giving you time to speak. "Uh, I'm sure you have lots of questions, but unless they're really important they should probably wait until later. The Doctor and I have put our heads together and thought of a way out, or at least a way of figuring our where here is."

The taller man wearing electroshock gear rubs his chin, interjecting in an interested tone. "Incredible, what's the plan then? Strange portals? Some method of contacting the outside world?"

"We're going to try and open the front door. It's locked, but I haven't tried it yet." The room is quiet after that, the various people looking around, somewhat confused looking.

"So what?" It's the engineer who speaks up now. "You're gonna jiggle the handle a bit? Give it a kick? Novel fuckin' idea."

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed. "No, it's locked from our side with a hand scanner, I just haven't tried it yet."

"Aw I was just teasin' boss, don't mean nothin'."

You shake your head and smile, showing that it's all fine.
"If that doesn't work I've also had another idea. We know that I can do strange things and indirectly will beings into existence, so I'm going to try and get us some more spare parts for the generators by uh... psychic manipulation or something. I'm going to try and turn scrap into the parts we need for the generators by willing them into existence. You know, it sounded more plausible in my head."

The group is silent after that, seeming to mull the idea over in their heads. You don't blame them for being a bit doubtful, you still aren't sure that this isn't you just going crazy again. Still, their silence gives you some time to think and plan what exactly to do next.

Ask them something? Now would be a good time to get some questions done.
No time like the present, get to transmuting. Alchemist that shit.
No time like the present, get to the door.

Sorry for the delay guys, writer's block hit me like a ton of bricks.

>>2776497
>Ask them something? Now would be a good time to get some questions done.
Never hurts to know what's on their "minds"

>>2776497
>No time like the present, get to the door

>>2776497
Ask for their input!

>>2776497
>No time like the present, get to transmuting. Alchemist that shit.

>>2776497
>No time like the present, get to the door.

>>2776497
>No time like the present, get to transmuting. Alchemist that shit.
It can't hurt to try
We DID activate a generator with our mind, presumably created this place and this doesn't seem too far of a stretch.

>>2776497
>Ask them something? Now would be a good time to get some questions done.
Just realized that Manic Barnaby and this Barnaby are the only ones to have gained some semblance of a family after losing their old ones. Being crazy confirmed to have best effects?

>>2776497
>>No time like the present, get to transmuting. Alchemist that shit.

We're tied between alchemy and just talking shit out, gonna need a tiebreaker.

>>2776565
>No time like the present, get to transmuting. Alchemist that shit.

Alchemy that shit.
Writing.

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You wave over the orderly carrying the box of metal scrap, gesturing for him to put it down on the table.
[Affirmative]

It's a small cardboard box, half eaten by mold. Inside is roughly a half dozen pieces of various metal scrap, you recognize a broken bonesaw as one of the implements. You separate yourself from your body, going back into that greater awareness. It's different now, sharper and more defined. It's less like a birds eye view now, more like a general awareness of things within the hospital. You still can't move while doing it, but it's much easier than it was before. Ir probably has something to do with the generator coming online, that seems to be the common thread here.

You focus on the metal shards, slowly focusing on them and trying to parse what they are. After a while you start pushing, applying mental pressure and thinking of the end result. They twist and bend, forming sharp blades and stretching out, melting into liquid then hardening again. But they just won't take the proper shape. Your control isn't fine enough, the changes you make are always on far too large of a scale. You can move them and bend them, making them float in the air or run like water, but you can't make them smaller or change their makeup, which stops you from making the complicated machinery that you require.

Inspired, you try and move other things in the room, levitating tables and shuffling the very floor itself around. The doors lock and unlock at your command, but it seems that your level of control is simply too large scale to be useful in quite the way you want. It takes a minute of thought, but you do eventually grasp the limits of your connection to whatever this place is.

[Master of Puppets : Barnaby can manipulate any powered building inside the ??? on the medium to large scale, rearranging rooms and moving doors from place to place, as long as the changes are unobserved by outsiders while in progress. Changes are slow, and require total focus.]

You're awoken from your trance by the Doctor shaking you, shouting loudly into your ear.
"Mr Campbell! You have to WAKE UP! Something's happening."

You take a look around blearily, the scared Residents of the hospital looking around and stood together, huddled in the centre of the room. You give them a cheeky grin and nod reassuring them that it's all fine. You're in total control.

And with that I need to get some sleep, I have a DnD game tomorrow, and it's payday so I have missions in town.

Not quite happy with how this scene came out, but it's midnight and I'm writer's blocking out the ass so I'll blame that.
As always feel free to ask questions and criticise me, I enjoy answering questions. I'll probably be awake for a couple hours and I'll be watching both here and on the discord.

>>2776783
If you wanna take one day off to clear your writer's block, you very well can. Either way I love how this quest is coming along compared to the others. Feels very original One Bad Day, but different in a good way. About time we had a Master/Shaker, or whatever this Barnaby is supposed to be? I hope you tell us if/when we leave this mindspace.

>>2776783
Also I'll be running again on the day after tomorrow.

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We wont need to run from monsters in our head we will just be able to turn them into bunny rabbits haha..
Yes experiment..
Nurse beewwbs
Doctor prescribe some
Medicinal herbage

>>2776783
Thanks for the run void! Going to be interesting to see how this power can be used out in Brockton Bay.

Having calmed your associates and exhausted all other options, you find yourself being wheeled towards the medical complexes front door. The walls surrounding the Complex are a good ten foot tall, with metal rebar spikes jutting unevenly from the top to prevent any intrepid climbers from escaping. The Front gate itself is far more innocuous seeming. It's a small wooden door, seemingly painted red. Not a dark or deep red, but the kind of red that's almost pink. The bright colour seems rather out of place in the moonlight, fog and grass. Next to it is a small hand scanner, like out of one of the spy movies Mike always made you watch. The yellow light on it's face taunts you, blinking slowly and evenly as your group edges awkwardly towards the door.

You stop about a foot away, the Nurse behind you slowly bringing your wheelchair to a stop just within comfortable reach of the scanner lock.

"Alright sir, this is it."

You look back at the assembled group, all but one of the beings here are in attendance, the only ones left behind being two Orderlies to look after the patient. You nod before reaching out and placing your hand on the scanner. You stop yourself from pulling away as it lights up, a green glow engulfing your hand and slowly moving up and down. It takes a tortuously long time for anything to actually happen, so when the panel turns green and beeps you quickly rip your hand away, startled by the sudden action. The assembled group cranes their necks to look as the door swings open, gazing out into concrete streets and ruined buildings.

As one the lot of you spill out past the doorway, looking around at the (to you) familiar streets and buildings of the new Medical district. You look back as the others mill about excitedly, the door closes as you look.

It's still there from this side, the red door and hand scanner up against where you swear the ruined hospital's backdoor used to be.

It's true, it's real. You aren't crazy (totally) and you have powers. The possibilities are limitless. You could uh..

Mobilize the Orderlies and be a somewhat weak Villain...

You might be able to talk the others into helping you get revenge on the scientists in the Institute if you really tried, but revenge might not actually be worth it. Plus that would bring the Protectorate down on your head hard.

For the moment however, you have a very clear need. Food.

You have no idea how long it's been since the last time you ate, and your stomach is beginning to hurt from the lack of food. The problem is what to do with your companions.
Your very recognisably inhuman companions.

>You are being followed by seven incredibly intimidating looking beings with parahuman abilities. They might be Master minions or Case 53's (Parahumans whose powers mutate them and strip their memories.)

Walk into a takeaway like nothing's wrong.
Order over the phone, like a regular person would.
Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.

>>2782782
>Order over the phone, like a regular person would.

>>2782782
>Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.
Do we even have cash on hand? And engineer dude looks alright, doesn't he? He's just covered in bandages... which probably makes him look like a cape but not necessarily a case 53 or minion.

Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.

>>2782782
>Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.
We need to tell them not to scare or be seen by people

>>2782820
Oh wait, I just remembered we do have cash that we stole from the carny a while back. Talk to our companions and if they don't have any good ideas, just
>Order over the phone, like a regular person would.
and get them to hide before the delivery guy comes around.

>>2782782
>Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.
Then
>Order over the phone, like a regular person would.
Because we have lots of money we stole off the carnies at the fair, and delivery is a thing that exists.

Also reminder to everyone here, for description's sake:

The Nurse is a floating uniform with nothing inside it. Can teleport herself and other objects or people.

The Doctor is a floating humanoid with a nice waistcoat and other professional clothes. Right hand is Edward Scissorhands on various hospital medication, with seemingly endless tools and utensils coming out every which way, attached to something metallic at the core where the arm would be. Left hand is regular but made entirely concrete like a statue's. Head is pretty much a random assortment of tall pipes meshed into a steel and concrete core. Healing powers that can pin bone, reassemble tendons, and knit flesh.

The Therapist is big and bulky like Bane (for you), but with literal lightning veins and electroshock gear and a tattered suit. Has electric powers.

The Engineer is just a bandaged regular dude with overalls, workpants. Power unknown, but has a double-barrel shotgun.

And then we have three Orderlies, guys who looks like faceless mooks in various hospital personnel clothing and other stuff, who speak in concepts and images and commands like AI. Powers unknown, but maybe nothing?

>>2782782
>>2782894
I like this idea. Support.

>>2782782
>Talk to your monstrous entourage, see what they think.
Then
>Order over the phone, like a regular person would.

>>2782894
+1

Sweet and sour chicken wth some special fried rice prawn crackers ..
Do our staff even need regular food?

>>2783667
>inb4 only we have to eat and they derive energy and sustenance through us because shard magic bullshit

>>2782782
>>Order over the phone, like a regular person would.

>>2782894
This.
Also, just to make sure I understand, we used the hand scanner and outside the door was Brockton, right? So the hospital is not some pocket dimension, it's just a normal place in Brockton?

>>2783820
Dude it's 100% a pocket dimension. There IS no massive fucking forests or weird super-old hospital complexes in downtown Brockton. But the question is is this pocket dimension always going to be there at the place where we triggered, or can we move it with us at will? We have clear Master powers, but not sure what else. Surely we have slight reality-warping capability when it comes to the way into the pocket dimension, on top of having it constantly be tied to our presence to open

>>2783842
So when we went through the red door we left the pocket dimension?

>>2783938
Yes, we did.

I wonder if we could open any door to our hospital... We could rob banks and kill people and vanish... We don't have to do it but we could

>>2784005
Reminder that murder is against the Unwritten Rules. We want to follow those, lest we get a Kill Order or something screwed up like that.

>>2784598
I don't think we'd get a Kill Order for that shit. I forgot her name but one character was a hero while being a serial killer on the side and all that bitch got was time in the Birdcage even after killing 3 capes.

You only really get a kill order if you fuck up way too hard and end up slaughtering an entire town or something. Or if you have minions that can self-replicate, like Blasto or Nilbog. S-class stuff. I do agree it's a bad idea though.

>>2784620
>I forgot her name but one character was a hero while being a serial killer on the side and all that bitch got was time in the Birdcage even after killing 3 capes.
No clue who you're talking about, but this guy is the closest thing I found. http://worm.wikia.com/wiki/Gavel but he didn't kill capes. He thought a villain's bomb was a bluff when it wasn't, and caused a lot of people to die in the process.

This motherfucker also soloed Scion for a good minute or two until Scion pulled out his weakness - beam attacks - cutting a hole in Gavel, then walking up, putting a hand in, and disintegrating him from the inside out, leaving only half a body.
He blocks Scion's golden energy balls multiple times, and temporarily BTFOs him.

>Gavel toppled.
>No, he was leveraging his full weight, swinging his hammer like an Olympic hammer-thrower might swing theirs. Not even a complete rotation, but he struck Scion dead-on.
>Scion hit the dirt, was plowed into a furrow fifteen feet long. He half-climbed to his feet, half-floated, and was struck again. Another swing of the hammer.
>It wasn’t hurting him, but it was an inconvenience, and that was something good in my books.
>Gavel hit Scion a third time, and the hammer, damaged earlier by the beam, fell to pieces.
>For the fourth hit, Gavel used the toe of his boot.
>But each hit was dramatically less effective than the last. Scion reacted to the kick, floating back a little, but it wasn’t much at all.

>>2784714
Yeah, I found her: Monokeros. Gavel's pretty damn strong, which is to be expected of one of the Birdcage leaders. Which reminds me, we're probably mid-high tier+ with our power. A pocket dimension with a medical facility and multiple beings under our control, some with powers. If anybody finds out about them, we'll be high priority.

Does anyone in the Worm Verse already go by the name "Ward"?

>>2784989
Oh shit that's a great one. No, no one. Probably because it might get mixed up with the Wards. But that name works way too well for us.

So, we have a hospital and medical staff. Let's help people.

Take hobos back for health care, help cape victims/capes who lost a fight. We don't need to be villainous, at least not at the start?

Let's be incognito helpful and useful to the mundane and cape communities and enjoy a bit of recognition for a while until everything goes tits up.

sorry for my absence, but I'm back now and writing.

Organise the group and order some food over the phone.

Thing is I'm worried about our dead Therapy building. I think that might be permanent, and that would have been useful if it weren't, dead.

>>2782894
support

You turn away from the red door, switching focus from planning to organisation as you realise just how much your colleagues require guidance. The Doctor and the Orderlies are fairly reserved and calm still, with only the doctor's finger tapping to signify confusion or awkwardness. For the others it's far more obvious, The Engineer is stood next to a road sign, trying desperately to figure out where he is and lamenting that he's forgotten which state he's from. The Therapist is literally crackling with nervous energy, having accidentally tapped into a main power line and overcharged himself. Now he's just sort of standing there awkwardly and trying to look normal while radiating lightning. Lastly is the Nurse pushing your wheelchair. It takes you a second, but eventually you figure out that she's wringing her hands.

It's somewhat hard to parse body language without a body. but you pull through eventually.

You clear your throat loudly before addressing the assembled monster people, cringing internally as they all immediately turn to face you.
"Uh.. so I was thinking we should get some food? Maybe talking through this over something to eat would be a bit better than standing out in the middle of nowhere. I can tell you now though that I know where we are, but the rest of what I need to tell you is kind of a long story."

The others swiftly agree and soon before you find yourself at a payphone, staring down at a list of restaurants and takeaway places in the area. You decide on sweet and sour chicken after a minute or so and order it to a street corner a few minutes away. The deliveryman is somewhat skittish when he does arrive, but you tip him twenty quid to make up for it. Nancy teleports you back to the others afterwards, every appendage holding a delivery bag. The lot of you retire back into your pocket dimension after that, deciding that perhaps it might be best not to eat your food out in the streets of Brockton Bay at night in Azn Bad Boys territory.

(For those who are new or unknowing of Worm Canon, the ABB are an ethnically focused asian gang led by a guy who turns into a dragon and keeps getting stronger with no real upper limit. They own about a third of the city.)

You are somewhat surprised to find that your minions do seem to eat, the Therapist in particular possessing an enormous appetite for prawn crackers. You on the other hand have never really been much of a big eater, so you sit back and start explaining while the others finish their meals. You explain about Scion and the rise of supers back in the 80's, answering many questions and going into as much detail as possible. You explain about the gang ridden hellhole that is Brockton, America's most superpowered city. And then in the end, you tell them about the Endbringers, and what exactly do. Conversation stops for a bit after that, but you thought it'd be important to tell them.

Cont/

Even such dire concepts as the Endbringers cannot stall their curiosity forever though, and it's not long before you've a barrage of other questions to answer, most of them courtesy of your technician friend.

"So these Protectorate boys are like Gov-ment sanctioned superheroes? that's gotta suck. If I was a superhero I'd just start mah own team. Are there any of those around these days?"

"Yeah, just the one here in Brockton though and they don't let you in if you aren't part of the family. Never made much sense to me but it's up to them I guess."

He chuckles darkly at that and poaches a chunk of chicken off of the Therapist's plate.
"Man that's dumb. No wonder there's that many fuckin' bad guys about, good folk all go it alone and get killed."

The group seems to split their attention and start their own discussions after that, still eating and laughing as they do so. The Doctor and Nurse are discussing medical techniques over their dinner, a subject you're almost totally unfamiliar with. On the other side of the table both the Engineer and Therapist are laughing as an Orderly pushes a chunk of chicken against it's faceless head, before recoiling as the chicken sinks into the flesh.

It's a good group, and they seem like nice people. But if you can't get them to stick together, they'll just get picked off by the gangs. They clearly look up to you, maybe now would be the time to broach the subject?

You could help people here, you have medical personnel and an almost fully stocked hospital, not to mention the fact that you're the only one who can bring people in or out. It'd be the perfect hospital for capes. You might even get recognition from the Protectorate.

You want revenge on the Institute, or at least to help the others who are still inside, it's more important than labels like Hero or Villain. You need the money and gear to stage a breakout.

Normal people and hobo's pay poorly, and the rich just go to Panacea. The only way you'd get enough money to keep yourself and this place afloat would be Villainy of some variety, either yourself or indirectly by healing the gangs.

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>>2785396
>You could help people here, you have medical personnel and an almost fully stocked hospital, not to mention the fact that you're the only one who can bring people in or out. It'd be the perfect hospital for capes. You might even get recognition from the Protectorate.
start with good intent and watch it slowly go downhill from there
let's go

>>2785396
>You could help people here, you have medical personnel and an almost fully stocked hospital, not to mention the fact that you're the only one who can bring people in or out. It'd be the perfect hospital for capes. You might even get recognition from the Protectorate.
Well I wonder how the dice gods are going to torment this version of barnaby.
Hopefully we don't loose our people...

>>2785396
>you could help people here
lets give people like us help they wouldnt normally get