>>3119042
>Mess around with your mind-control ability. It’s important to keep your abilities sharp, after all.

>>3119042
>> Open your holy book and read the teachings of T’Kahn.

>>3119042
> It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.

Its to public, and even if you are magnificent and incalculably subtle the risk of exposure is to great. Stick to the plan.

>>3119042

> Open your holy book and read the teachings of T’Kahn.

>>3119042
>> It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.
Lets just lay low and don't get unwanted attention like Third Eye

Hey all, unfortunately 4chan suddenly shut down for server maintenance right when this quest started up, so I'll be continuing tomorrow at the same time. You're free to continue voting until then. See you at 7PM EST.

> It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.

Exposition!

>>3119042
>It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.

contextualize

also what the heck are you thinking with an OP ability like costless mind control (not that I'm complaining)

>Mumble aloud the teachings of T’Kahn

>>3119042
Lie low
I
e
l
o
w

>>3119042
>> It’s best to lie low

>>3119084
Supporting exposition

>>3119042
>It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.

Running in about an hour

>>3119042
> It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.

>>3119042
> It’s best to lie low. Go over your current plan while you wait for your luggage, and think back on the events that brought you to this point.
Airports have a shitton of cameras

You are “Bread”. You are bland, pale, you are nothing. You were born into the cult of the Third Eye, raised in isolation from traditional society. This cult had a ritual passed down from ancient times. It allowed people to jump into the minds of others, change their cognition and even control their mind. This power is the power of a “Dreamer”.
This tradition was passed down for generations, but as the centuries passed, the ritual faded away until it had become legend.
Your coven poured years of effort into replicating the ritual but they were led by a greedy and stupid man who was holding them back. He was holding you back. A child in the coven, you grew sick of the elder wasting your time so you began attempts to figure it out on your own.
One month ago, on the night of a full moon, you managed to make a test subject out of a homeless man you drugged and attempted your newest variation of the ritual. Bits and pieces of the legend echoed through your mind. A scrap of paper, a splash of blood. Using a playing card as your focus, the Jack of Spades, you slaughtered the man and painted your face with his blood.
...And it worked. You created an Astral Projection, a ghastly figure that contains your life essence.
Over the next few weeks, you used the card to invade people's minds and convert them in an attempt to bring about a wave of new dreamers and cultists. Unfortunately, this did not go unnoticed.
The CIA found the Third Eyes Cultists after you invaded the mind of an agent’s husband and he unknowingly blew the cults cover after joining. Every coven was destroyed.
(1 / 2)

Now you’re here, waiting for your luggage to spin around on the carousel. You check your email’s inbox - yeah, it’s still there. The letter of acceptance into one of New England’s finest private universities. You are certain that under normal circumstances you would not have been accepted, but with an in-person meeting with the enrollment staff, you managed to “convince” them. The brilliant minds you will find at this academy will make for excellent recruits, won’t they?

It is up to you to bring back the Third Eye, and not get caught while doing it. You must be more careful than you were last time.

Other passengers are beginning to pick up their luggage, but yours has still not arrived. You unzip your carry-on bag and pull out an old leather tome.

> You are the great leader. You are the mighty. While you do serve T’Kahn… you are the one in control.
>Decide on three of T’Kahn’s main teachings - the teachings your cult will follow.

> Those of weak will are destined to obey the truly mighty - the Dreamer.
> Falsehood will lead to destruction. Truth lies in true emotion.
> Once under the care of the great leader, there is no going back.
> Individuality must be dissolved in order to properly serve the mighty.
> Secrets and deception must be foregone. All must be confessed to the great leader.
> Write-Ins

>>3119788
> Those of weak will are destined to obey the truly mighty - the Dreamer.
> Secrets and deception must be foregone. All
must be confessed to the great leader.
> Falsehood will lead to destruction. Truth lies in true emotion.

>>3119788
> Individuality must be dissolved in order to properly serve the mighty.
> Secrets and deception must be foregone. All must be confessed to the great leader.
> Self-discipline towards the attainment of power for the Almighty is exalted. It is only by self restraint and self dominance that the nature of the Almighty can be approached.

>>3119800
changing > Falsehood will lead to destruction. Truth lies in true emotion.
to > Self-discipline towards the attainment of power for the Almighty is exalted. It is only by self restraint and self dominance that the nature of the Almighty can be approached.

>>3119786
>after you invaded the mind of an agent’s husband and he unknowingly blew the cults cover after joining.
So it's an influencing force, not control, and it's flawed in a way that does not prevent others from making the sorts of mistakes they would normally make on their own. inb4 Damocles.

>>3119788
> Secrets and deception must be foregone. All must be confessed to the great leader.
> Self-discipline towards the attainment of power for the Almighty is exalted. It is only by self restraint and self dominance that the nature of the Almighty can be approached.

I think that covers cultists being open to us and the deal that they can't reach T'Khan's teachings through laziness.

I don't have any strong opinions on the other teachings but shouldn't there be something that broaches a reward? Preferably related to long term servitude like the second teaching so nobody gets the idea to just drop in and drop out. Becoming one with T'Kahn in an eternal paradise or some weird thing like that.

> Individuality must be dissolved in order to properly serve the mighty.
> Secrets and deception must be foregone. All must be confessed to the great leader.
> Self-discipline towards the attainment of power for the Almighty is exalted. It is only by self restraint and self dominance that the nature of the Almighty can be approached.

Writing.

>>3119829
It's my opinion that the journey to discovering a truly supernatural being and it's nature would be reward enough.

You meditate over the teachings of the Third Eye, occasionally glancing up at the conveyor. Eventually, you spot it. A dull grey suitcase floats by on the churning sheets of metal. Paranoia gets the better of you - you unzip the front pocket, just to make sure.
...Yeah, it’s yours. Inside are

> Several sets of clean clothes
> A laptop and its charger
> $200, cash

You wish you had more, but you had decided not to stick around your old coven for to long. Safety first, and all that. With your belongings now in your possession, you head toward the street and call a cab. It’s time to begin.

> “Take me to Barnett College.” Dorms are now open, after all.
> “Take me downtown.” It’s a new city, perhaps it is best to explore a bit and get our bearings.
> Mind control the driver. You only have so much money, best to hold on to it. (Choose location as well)
>Write-in

>>3119857
> Mind control the driver. You only have so much money, best to hold on to it.
> “Take me downtown.” It’s a new city, perhaps it is best to explore a bit and get our bearings.
Need to practice mind control sometime. We need to pick up the pulse of the city, find gathering places for truthseekers and naive young adults to haunt and recruit from. The college is likely to be full of strong willed students who worked their asses off to get where they are.

>>3119857
> “Take me to Barnett College.” Dorms are now open, after all.
Taxis have cameras and he will know that he dropped us off at the college.

>>3119857
>“Take me to Barnett College.” Dorms are now open, after all.
check out your base of operation, have a nice conversation with the driver and mind-control them to give you a discount.
maybe. get their number because you will probably need a driver more often.
Start networking, be charming, win friends and influence people.

>>3119857
> “Take me to Barnett College.” Dorms are now open, after all.

>>3119884
We could always just push him towards giving us a freebie ride, give some sob story about just making it into college, coming from a shithole background. Maybe it's an Uber driver who'll take the hit on his own.

>>3119857
I'm fine with hitting up the college right away, just to keep things moving

>>3119857
>>3119896
this with sob story

>>3119896
our charisma is in the toilet though

> “Take me to Barnett College.” Dorms are now open, after all.

Writing.

You close the cab door behind you.

“Where to, boss?” The driver says, eyeing you in the rearview mirror. He looks to be a New York local, judging by his thick accent.

“I’m headed to Barnett College. Thanks.”

He lets out a laugh as he starts up the engine.

“Damn, kid, the semester hasn’t even started yet and you already look like you haven’t slept for days!”

You grunt in response, and his smile fades. You turn your attention to the window, watching buildings and people fly by. It’s a sunny Sunday morning, and although to most this would be a common sight, this all too new for you.

- - - - -

Around 20 minutes pass, give or take, and finally the cab pulls into the parking lot in front of the school gates.

“Alright kid, that’ll be 75 bucks.”

You grimace. You may not be the most savvy when it comes to city life, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do research. The trip from the airport to campus should have costed $50, at most.

“That’s ridiculous.”

The driver shrugs.

“What can I do? Uber is puttin’ us outta business. I don’t make the rules. Besides, with you goin’ to a hoity toity school like Barnett, ain’t it your parents that are payin’ for all this anyhow?”

“Er… no, actually, my parents are… very poor. And--”

“I don’t need your life story, bub. Pay up.”

Shit. Your social skills need some serious work.

> Pay up. (Lose $75)
> Mind control him to forget this ride ever happened.
> Run away.
> Write-in.

>>3119954
>> Mind control him to forget this ride ever happened.

>>3119954
>Mind control him to forget this ride ever happened.

>>3119954
> Mind control him to forget this ride ever happened.

>>3119954
Mind control him to believe your random piece of scrap paper is $75.

>>3119954
> Write-in.
Mind control him into taking $50

>>3119987
Yeah, that's probably easier than convincing him a blank piece of paper is loadsa money.

>> Mind control him to forget this ride ever happened.
Writing

As important as it is to stay covert, you’re on a limited budget. You reach into your pocket and pull out a simple playing card - the jack of spades. You glance out the window, double checking for any curious eyes, while absent-mindedly spinning the card between your fingers. You can feel the magical energy coursing through it. This is your focus.

“Hm? That don’t look like your wallet, guy.” The cabbie growls.

You palm the playing card and outstretch your hand. Several fine golden threads begin to uncoil from your fingers, and with a flick of your wrist, they shoot out toward their mark. The threads weave their way through the ear canal of the driver and he freezes in place, eyes wide. You smirk. The resistance is getting easier to deal with each time.

Still, you don’t have much time. You’re in a busy area, so any changes to his cognition will have to be quick.

You blink, and you’re inside. Twisting towers of metal and glass pierce through the twilight sky. Streets wind around one another, curving up through the air or deep into the earth. Before you can admire the scenery any further, the blaring of a horn snaps you awake. You leap backward as a taxi cab hurrels down the street, where you were just standing. You have to be more cautious - getting hurt here could affect you in the real world, too. You approach one of the many cars parked along the side of the road and you look in the side view mirror. There you stand, but not like you were before. In your wake looms a eerie black astronaut suit, its opaque glass helmet emblazoned with a skull emblem.

Your Astral Projection.

You don’t have much time. The cabby’s most recent memories should still be on the surface of his cognition, but the longer you take, the deeper they’ll sink.

You begin your search, sprinting along the side of the road and jumping onto moving vehicles with superhuman agility. You peer through the windows of each cab you come across, and you quickly spot what you’re looking for. It’s you, sitting in the backseat. Neither the driver nor yourself seemed preoccupied with the shadowy being on the roof of the moving car, nor should they be. They are “dreams”, unable of conscious thought.

Once again, you outstretch your hand, and golden threads unravel from your fingers. You brace yourself, and flick your hand at your “dream”. Blood begins gurgling out of the puncture wounds in its throat, and after a moment it simply disappears. Your job is done.

(1 / 2)

You blink, and you’re back outside.

The driver stares into space for a moment before shaking his head. He looks in the rearview mirror and notices you.

“Hey, boss! Where to?”

You open the cab door.

“I’ve changed my mind. Sorry.”

You shut the door behind you, and begin walking toward campus. You have an hour or two before the entrance ceremony begins.

> Explore campus. Find popular hang out spots.
> Drop off your stuff at your dorm.
> Grab some lunch at the cafeteria. It’s been a while since you last ate.
>Write-in.

>>3120075
> Drop off your stuff at your dorm.

>>3120075
> "Grab some lunch at the cafeteria. It’s been a while since you last ate."
Eating is for the weak-willed.
> "Drop off your stuff at your dorm."
Laziness is indicative of weak will.
> Explore campus. Find popular hang out spots.
Gathering information for the conquest at the cost of hunger pangs and strengthening our body while carrying luggage is worthy of the Almighty.

>>3120109
> Explore campus. Find popular hang out spots.
> Drop off your stuff at your dorm.
> Grab some lunch at the cafeteria. It’s been a while since you last ate.

>>3120088
switching to
> Explore campus. Find popular hang out spots.

> Explore campus. Find popular hang out spots.
Doing this first. Writing.

It’s around 9AM , now. New students are required to gather in the auditorium at 10, leaving you with ample time to scope out this academy. As you decide where to head first, you are startled by a tap on your shoulder. You spin around to face the threat, nearly growling. It’s a brunette girl, her eyes wide. She retracts her hand and hesitantly points at a paper map she is holding.

“Um… Do you know the way to Schiff Dormitory?”

You clear your throat and shrug.

“I’m new here too. Sorry.”

She gives you a look and begins jogging to catch up with what looks like an upperclassman.

- - - - -

After wandering around for a while and following large groups of people, you manage to scope out several locations with high traffic. There is the library, a coffee shop just off campus, a small street lined with pubs and restaurants, and the cafeteria/student center in the middle of the grounds. You have circled these locations on your map, but it took a while to explore. It is now 9:40. Your arm aches, your stomach is growling, and you feel yourself growing more irritable by the second. You only have enough time to do one activity before heading to the ceremony.

> Drop off your luggage at your dorm.
> Grab some food at the student center.
> Head to the auditorium early.
> Write-in.

>>3120201
> Drop off your luggage at your dorm.
So we don't look too out of sorts.
Don't forget anything we'll need for the entrance ceremony, pens, paperwork, whatever.
Being hungry is college life, get used to it.

>>3120201
> Drop off your luggage at your dorm.

>>3120201
>Drop off your luggage at your dorm.

>Drop off your luggage at your dorm.
Writing.

It’d be best to drop off your things in a secure location before heading to a public gathering. Plus, looking at your map, it seems that you’re only a few minutes away from your dorm. After a short walk, you find yourself in front of a large brick building. It looks quite regal for a college dorm - ivy snakes its way up the walls and along the mortar, and dignified columns stand in front of the entrance. A long table is set up in front of the front door, with several students sitting at it. One catches your eyes, and waves you over with a grin. You force your mouth into a twitchy half smile.

“Hey! Are you living in this dorm?” he says.

“That’s what my email said, yeah.”

“Great! If you give me your name, I can give you your key.”

“It’s Bread.”

The boy’s smile falters, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Is that… European? Or…?”

“Just give me the key.”

The student quickly hands you the key to your room, and you head inside. Maneuvering around a group of boisterous guys who are presumably heading toward the auditorium, you walk up the marble stairs and find your room. 217. You turn the knob and walk in… only to find someone else inside.

“What are you doing in my room?” You say, an edge in your voice.

The man turns around. He is blonde, with shoulder length hair. His clothes are not particularly well kept and he has bags under his eyes, but unlike you, you have a feeling that it is actually due to schoolwork.

“Erm… Hi. I’m Jake. I’m your roommate.”

Oh. Right. Without a word, you drop off your suitcase and head back toward the door.

“Hey, wait! Are you going to the ceremony? Do you want to… go with? I have to change real quick, but I haven’t really made any friends yet, and we’re roommates, so I was thinking…”

He twirls his fingers, looking up at you hopefully.

> “...Sure. Hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”
> “I’m in a rush, sorry.”
> Write-in

>>3120274
> Write in
Just laugh and walk away, while saying something along the lines of "need someone to hold your hand? Mommy's not here anymore. We'll have all semester to be friends"

>>3120274
> “...Sure. Hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”
Our name is really Bread?

>>3120274
> “...Sure. Hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”

>>3120274
> “...Sure. Hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”

> “...Sure. Hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”
Writing.

You let out an exasperated sigh. It would probably be for the best to stay on the good side of this “Jake”, considering that he will be in such close proximity of you for the rest of the semester.

“Sure. Just hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”

He flashes you a slightly pathetic smile and quickly throws on a wrinkled dress shirt. The two of you begin heading toward the auditorium, and your roommate attempts meaningless small talk. You give him one word answers, and soon enough you arrive. It is another brick building, though this one is much larger than your dorm. It is clear that a lot of work - and a lot of money - was put into this school’s image.

Many students are still filtering in, and you lower your head as you push through the crowd. You don’t want to admit it, but it is a bit… overwhelming. The noises, the smells, everything - it is all unfamiliar. But you persevere. Soon, it will all fall under your domain. You find a seat, and soon enough the ceremony begins. It is difficult to stay awake. The empty celebration is a slog as they bring on speaker after speaker. You find yourself drifting…

Before you are jostled awake by Jake.

“Hey, that’s Ryan Farley! He’s our class representative!”

You manage to focus your attention to the stage to see a well dressed, if not preppy, young man approach the microphone.

“What an honor it is, to attend an institution such as this.”

His teeth gleam in the spotlights, and you overhear a couple girls giggle behind you. You strain not to roll your eyes. Although the audience seems enthralled by his speech, you find yourself leaning back in your chair, bored. However, before your attention fades entirely, you notice something. You turn to Jake, just to make sure.

There’s a green thread coiled in his ear… A Dreamer’s. And it isn’t yours.

TO BE CONTINUED

Thanks for playing! I'll be back tomorrow around 5PM EST. See ya then.

>>3120392
thanks for running! and showing back up again.

>>3120368
Oh sheeeit!

Sorry guys, I'm actually going to have to postpone until tomorrow.

>>3121631
thanks for the heads up

>>3121672
ditto

Sounds like our new target for recruitment is Ruan Farley.

Running in about 30 minutes

The ceremony is over, and you find yourself walking out of the auditorium with Jake. He’s smiling and talking about how excited he is for his new college life, but you are hardly paying attention. You focus on the inside of his ear, and sure enough, it’s still there. A green thread, coiled deep in his ear canal. You can sense its aura, there’s nothing mundane about it. You are certain - there is another Dreamer on campus.

...But how? It took you years of your life to perfect the ritual, and everyone from your cult is dead. How can it be that someone else committed the sacred acts? It doesn’t matter, you decide. All that is important is that you find them and eliminate them. You glance at Jake. As far as you can tell, he is acting normal. He shows no signs of mind control - but then again, it seems he is not being actively puppeteered. The Dreamer thread has been cut and left in his ear. Sloppy work - it is evidence that his cognition has been changed, but the Dreamer who did it was too lazy to clean up after themselves. That begs the question - how many more students are being controlled? What is the other Dreamer’s goal?

You grimace. You expect to feel fear or paranoia, but instead you just feel hot, bubbling rage. These are your sheep to lead, yet someone else is acting as their shepherd. They must be eliminated.

> Get Jake somewhere private and investigate his mind with your Astral Projection.
> Investigate campus, asking students if they’ve noticed anything strange.
> Relax. They have no way of knowing about you. Continue with the original plan and start indoctrinating people, you can find and kill them later.
> Write-in.

>>3124956
> Get Jake somewhere private and investigate his mind with your Astral Projection.

>>3124956
Knowledge check
What do we know about the extent of the teachings of our cult? Are there mentions of other texts in existence or a history of the cult that was handed down? Is the relationship with the supernatural entity personal or distant?

>>3124981
also, are there other supernaturals in existence that we know of?

>>3124981
I'll just say what you know here. The teachings of your cult are contained in the Third Eye tome you have in your possession. It is full of lessons and ideals that are under the umbrella of the three teachings you chose, and yes, it does contain stories and histories.
Here are the basics, and feel free to ask me to elaborate on anything.

There was nothing, and then there was T'Kahn. T'Kahn was the cause of this nothingness, yet he was also the biproduct. He watched all come into its form from a distance, and there he remained. No one can talk to him or contact him, and no one ever has, as T'Kahn does not exist Here. Yet He must be worshipped, for through that worship power may be obtained. The power of the Dreamer.

There are other entities. Demons, devils, evil and good alike. Yet none compare to T'Kahn. However, some of these entities do inhabit our world.

Those are pretty much the basics. Any other questions? Again, I'm only answering with knowledge Bread would have at this point, as this is all written in his Tome. There is no guarantee that any of this is accurate.

> Get Jake somewhere private and investigate his mind with your Astral Projection.
Writing.

I would prefer to lay low and investigate without actively using our powers, considering we know nothing about this threat and whether actively MCing our roommate will let someone else know about us. More important to remain unseen, IMO.

>>3125022
Incorporating this into the vote because it was a tie.

>>3125011
Is there any color symbolism mentioned in the Tome?

>>3125027
Not much, but you've studied it enough to know that yellow represents ambition, green represents avarice, blue could mean dedication, red is often violence, and mixes of color tend to be combinations of these virtues.

When we do go into Jake's mind, it's also a good idea to get an idea of what his life is all about, what he wants, what he likes to do, etc. Would be good to have an idea how he could be used.

“Hey Jake, perhaps it would be for the best if we consumed lunch. I am getting hungry,” you say, rubbing your stomach to emphasize your point. He smiles, clearly happy that he is finally beginning to connect with you.

“Yeah, sure! The cafeteria is--”

“No, not the cafeteria.”

You cut him off quickly. The cafeteria is a hot zone. While you are changing someone’s cognition, both you and your target are vulnerable. Your mind can only inhabit one body at a time, after all.

“Er, okay? Then what did you have in mind?” Jake asks.

“Let us stop by the dormitory first. I forgot my wallet in my room.”

Jake nods and allows you to lead the way, and soon enough, you arrive at your room. You shut the door behind you, and raise your arm at him. With a flick of your wrist, your threads shoot out at Jake… but stop just short. The tangled wire floats silently in right in front of Jake’s eyes, but he doesn’t notice. All he sees is you and your outstretched hand.

“Bread? What are you doing?”

You’re hesitating. Something about this scenario throws you off. The other Dreamer is out there, somewhere, and you know nothing about them or their ability. Should you really be messing around in a mind that has already be tainted?

> Invade his mind, and clean out his ear of the other thread as you do. Perhaps that is the problem?
> Find clues the old fashioned way - by talking to him normally.
> Leave. If Jake was controlled at some point, who’s to say he isn’t now?
> Write-in.

>>3125048
> Leave. If Jake was controlled at some point, who’s to say he isn’t now?

>>3125048
Act normal, at least as normal as Bread can, don't let on that we know anything. Get your wallet and casually ask him if he's enjoying his time at college so far. Ask if he's made any more friends lately, mention how excited he was to see Ryan and ask him what's so special about him?

>>3125048
>>3125059
switching to>>3125073

> Act normal, at least as normal as Bread can, don't let on that we know anything. Get your wallet and casually ask him if he's enjoying his time at college so far. Ask if he's made any more friends lately, mention how excited he was to see Ryan and ask him what's so special about him?
Writing.

You lower your hand and retract your thread.

“Sorry, I was just trying to remember where I left my wallet. It’s over here.”

You approach your backpack and unzip it, retrieving your wallet.

“By the way, you were talking about how you were excited for college earlier. Have you made any new friends?” You ask. Jake scratches his neck and lets out an awkward laugh.

“Well, none really, besides you. But I’ve been feeling more open lately! See, I have an anxiety disorder so it can be hard for me to talk to people, but since I’ve come to college I’ve been getting better! I expected the opposite, honestly.”

You nod, leaning against your bed. That sounds like a change in cognition. But for what purpose?

“Oh yeah, and that Ryan guy… You seemed excited to see him. Do you know him?”

Jake scoffs and gives you a look, as if you’ve been living under a rock. When he sees that you’re serious, he composes himself again.

“Dude, it’s Ryan Farley. Everyone loves him, even though school hasn’t technically started yet. Apparently he was really active in student extracurricular activities this summer, doing psych studies and stuff like that. Actually, he helps out with the depression and anxiety support group I’m part of. He’s a nice guy,” Jake says.

“Is that it? He sounds like a hard worker, but I don’t really see what all the fuss is about,” you reply.

Jake hesitates, then shrugs.

“I don’t know. That’s all I know.”

Judging by his expression, he knows more that he’s not letting on.

> Press him on the topic.
> Invade his mind.
> Drop it.
> Write-in.

>>3125113
>Invade his mind

>>3125113
> Press him on the topic.

1 for press him, 1 for mind invasion. I'll extend voting by 10 minutes to see if it gets cleared up, but if the tie remains we'll flip a coin.

>>3125113
>Press him gently
"Interesting, never seen therapy work so well. I always thought it was kind of a scam."
"I've been dealing with some depression, myself. Maybe I could go with you sometime?"
In a non-charismatic way.

>Press him gently
wins out.
Writing!

“Huh. You don’t seem all that anxious to me. I always thought therapy was a scam,” you say. “Actually, I’m depressed. Can I join you at the next meet up?”

Jake’s tense shoulders relax, and he nods.

“Yeah, of course. We meet every Sunday at 7pm, so if you’re free you can come by tonight.”

“I’ll see you there, then. Alright, let’s get some food,” you say.

With that, the two of you head toward the cafeteria.

- - - - -

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. You don’t spot anything related to the other Dreamer, and after lunch you and Jake part ways. Eventually you head back to your dorm to wait out until 7. You swing open the front door, and nearly run into a girl who is exiting. She stumbles backward, and brushes her long brunette hair out of her face. She takes a look at you and smiles.

“Hey, it looks like you found it!”

You narrow your eyes. “Found what?”

She giggles and gestures to the dormitory.

“Schiff.”

You then recognize her. She’s the girl you growled at earlier, the one who asked you for directions. She puts out her hand.

“I’m Shelly. Nice to meet ’cha.”

You look down at her hand, unsure of what to do. You hesitantly reach out and grip the back of her hand, then jostle your arm.


She gives you a look, then erupts into laughter.

“Hey, you’re pretty funny. I’m kinda on the lookout for interesting people to hang out with… What do you say? Wanna grab some dinner? We’re dormmates, after all.”

> Accept her offer. You have an hour before the meeting.
> Refuse.
> Write-in.

>>3125194
> Accept her offer. You have an hour before the meeting.

>>3125194
"I've got something to do soon, but I'm a late diner. If you can wait, we can hit something up around 9. Where's your room?"

>>3125211
switching to>>3125216

>>3125194
>Accept

An hour is easily enough to eat.

Looks like it's
>Go to meeting, then eat dinner with Shelly
Writing.

Before the meeting we need to see if there's any easy marks to skim some dinero off of, can we stop by the library or computer labs and find a lone victim before we get there?

What a waste of time. You are not here to socialize, you’re here to conquer. What use could the petty thoughts of an eighteen year old girl be to you and your journey to domination? ...Still, in order to gain status in a system such as this, it is of importance to stay on the good side of those around you.

“I’m sorry, I cannot get dinner. I have a meeting soon. However, at 9, if it is suitable to you…”

“You’re free at 9?” Shelly flashes a grin. “Alright, I also have a thing soon. I’ll get out around 8. You wanna just meet up at the Cellar?”

You tilt your head in confusion.

“Cell… Are?”

“Yeah, yeah, the Cellar. It’s a pizza place nearby, on Pine street,” Shelly says. You nod.

“Okay. I’ll see you there, then.”

- - - - -

You find yourself in front of the student union building. Jake told you that the support group will be meeting in one of the conference rooms inside. You walk down the hall, keeping an eye out, and eventually find a door that’s ajar. You peek inside to see chairs organize in a circle shape, with some students talking amongst each other. You spot Jake.

“Hey, weirdo!”

You turn around to see Shelly standing behind you.

“This was your thing? Dude, we had so much time to get food!” She lets out a chuckle, then maneuvers past you to open the door.

“Oh well, I’m still down to grab a slice after this.”

As she moves through the threshold, you notice something you hadn’t before. Just like Jake, she has the remnants of a Dreamer thread in her ear. You follow her inside, and taking passing glances at the other students inside. Paranoia begins bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Most of them have been threaded. Not all of them, but most. What do you do?

> Get out of there, calmly.
> Stay and listen. You need to figure out what’s going on, and running won’t help you.
> Ask Shelly and Jake questions. Find what’s common between them.
> Write-in.

>>3125244
Sorry, didn't see this before I started writing. Feel free to add stuff like this as write-ins during the voting period, I highly encourage write-ins and try to involve them to the best fo my ability.

>>3125280
it's fine, I'm usually managing my kids and wife and it takes time for me to get what I want down. I never have a problem with being missed.

>>3125276
Since we're not alone, there's probably not much to worry about. We need intel. Let's just sit and observe, make some shit up about a bad childhood and depression.

Some IRL stuff came up, so I'll leave off here for now. I'll be back tomorrow around 4PM EST or so, see you then! Thanks for playing.

Voting will stay open until I start tomorrow.

>>3125335
peace out, cub scout

>>3125276
> Panic and run out of there

Leave a trail of spaghetti behind you to trip up pursuers

>>3125276
> Get out of there, calmly.

>>3125712
switching to>>3125305

>>3125305
This. >>3125305

Running in an hour!

Also, voting is over. It's 3 for stay and listen, 2 for run away.

You need to stay - it’s the only possible way that you’ll uncover the mystery behind the identity of the other Dreamer. Besides, they have no way of knowing that you, too, are a Dreamer. As long as you don’t activate your abilities, you should be fine. For now, all you have to do is act like you belong. Jake catches your eye and walks over.

“Hey, man! Good to see you here.”

“Thanks for having me.”

He smiles. “It’s honestly no big deal. We’ve been getting new folks coming in a lot lately, actually.”

He’s right. Looking around, you can tell who seems nervous and who seems at ease. You also realize that those who seem more comfortable are threaded. Members of this support group are having their cognition changed… But how? In order to cause lasting effects, you need a one on one setting and time. In a public place like this it would be impossible to do anything substantial without getting caught.

“Hey everyone, let’s get this thing started!” A familiar voice rings out from behind you. In walks Ryan Farley, the class representative. The other students give him an assortment of greetings before settling into the ring of chairs. You follow, but keep an eye on the class rep. Unfortunately, he’s too far away to check the inside of his ear unnoticed.

“Before we start, I see that we’ve got some newbies. Let’s go around the circle and share our name, year, and…” He lets out a laugh, “I don’t know, favorite animal.”

The introductions begin, and soon enough it is your turn to share.

“My name is Bread. My year is first. I am partial to snakes.”

There is a small outburst of laughter from the rest of the group. The corner of Ryan’s mouth lifts into a smirk, but it is a smile that does not reach the eyes. Still, he does not seem upset. Rather, from what you can tell, he looks at you with intrigue.

“Alright, now that everyone has shared, let’s get into it--”

The meeting begins, and several students begin sharing stories and updates on their lives with depression or anxiety. The school year is just beginning so tensions are understandably high, but something is bothering you. You are no expert on mental illness, but these students are managing incredibly well, considering all the newfound stress. Many students explain that ever since they started attending this support group their depression has faded, some even claiming that it has been cured. Which means--

“Bread!”

Your attention is snapped back to the group, and all eyes are on you. Ryan Farley is addressing you.

“No pressure, no one here is required to speak, but I always like hearing from newcomers. Do you mind telling us a bit about yourself? What you suffer from, what it’s like in the new setting here, stuff like that? Again, no pressure at all.”

> Share about your depression, but keep it minimal.
> Share about your depression, but get detailed about it.
> Tell him that you’d prefer not to speak just yet.
> Write-in.

>>3127541

> Depression, but outright lie, we don't know what the Dreamer could use against us.

> Depression, but outright lie, we don't know what the Dreamer could use against us.
Writing.

For obvious reasons, you can’t share that you’re the last of your kind in a cult dedicated to ritualistic murder and brainwashing. Instead, you explain that you come from a poor background, had a difficult childhood, and suffer from depression. The other students listen intently, especially Ryan Farley. He nods as you speak, and when you finish, he smiles.

“Thank you for sharing your story, Bread. I know it can be hard. I must say, we all appreciate it.” He turns to the rest of the group. “Well, I think that’s enough for the day. Thank you all for coming, and I hope to see you next week.”

The group begins to disperse. By now it is about 8PM. Shelly taps you on the shoulder as she begins to leave. “Remember, meet me at the Cellar at 9.” She hands you a scrap of paper with digits scrawled onto it.

“What is this?” You ask.

“It’s my number. Text me if something comes up,” she replies, shooting a sideways glance at Ryan. With that, she leaves. You are about to ask what she means by that, but are interrupted as Ryan steps in front of you.

“Hi, Bread. It was great meeting you. Listen - do you mind hanging back for a few minutes? I was hoping to talk to you personally. Your story really moved me.”

He shoots you his signature toothy grin.

> “Sorry, I should really be leaving.”
> “Sure, as long as it’s only a few minutes.”
> Write-in.

>>3127975
> “Sorry, I should really be leaving.”

>>3128011
> “Sorry, I should really be leaving.”
Writing.

Something about the way he looks at you rubs you the wrong way. It’s like he sees through you. The few straggler students that remained in the room filter out, and very soon it is only you and Ryan. Paranoia creeps up your neck, and you know that you have to leave.

“Sorry, I should go.”

“Please, don’t worry. I’ve been doing this kind of therapy work for a long time, and even though I’m young, I promise you that I know what I’m doing.” He circles around you, walks toward the open door, and closes it. Your mouth twists into a frown.

“I said no. I don’t want your treatment.”

You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your hand before you can touch it.

“I can help you. I’ve helped everyone else. You just have to trust me,” he says, his eyes narrowing. At this angle, you can finally get a good look at his ear - it’s empty, there’s no thread. He’s not being controlled by the Dreamer. But then… You look down at his hand.

Green threads begin to unfurl from his fingertips.

> Shove him off you and run.
> Sock him in the jaw.
> Reveal your Dreamer thread and invade his mind, first.
> Talk it out. Tell him to stop.
> Write-in.

>>3128071
> Sock him in the jaw.
> Reveal your Dreamer thread and invade his mind, first.

>>3128109
> Sock him in the jaw.
> Reveal your Dreamer thread and invade his mind, first.
Please roll 1d20, I'll take the best of the first 3 rolls. There is a 15 minute rolling window here so we can keep this quest moving.

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>3128121

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>3128121

File: giggle.jpg (26 KB, 413x395)

26 KB JPG

>>3128131
Oof, let's hope that other players start rolling too

>>3128136
we are fucking saved, all hail the namefag

>>3128136
Well there you go!
20 is a critical success. Writing.

Emerald green wire-like threads begin to uncoil from Farley’s hand. You recognize them immediately. Those are the threads you’ve been seeing around campus - Ryan Farley is the other Dreamer! You don’t have any time to think. Any moment his Dreamer threads will fully manifest and he will be able to invade your mind. You only have time to act. You tighten your hand into a fist and sock him in the face. He screams out in pain, releasing his grip on your other hand and stumbles backward in shock.

“What the FUCK are you doing? I’m trying to HELP you!” he yells out. But you aren’t listening - your hand is already extended, golden threads uncoiling and tensing up, ready to strike. His eyes widen as he sees what you’re doing.

“What? But how--”

Before he can finish his sentence, you launch them. Ryan doesn’t have time to react as your threads pierce into his ear canal. You blink, and you’re inside.

- - - - -

Dark. That’s your first thought. It is incredibly dark in here. Wet - that’s your second thought. Your third thought is that you cannot breathe, but by then you’re already clawing at the moonlight above you. You breach through the surface and take in deep gasps of air, passively treading water. You’re in the middle of a small lake. It’s strangely peaceful, out here. You can hear the hum of cicadas and the distant hooting of an owl. You shake your head. You’re not here to relax, you’re here to defeat the Dreamer. ...But how? You’ve never been inside another Dreamer’s mind, you’ve only ever invaded the minds of sheep. You see the shore nearby and begin paddling toward it.

A thick forest surrounds the lake, and a light wispy mist pervades throughout. Something begins to bother you. There is nobody here. In every other cognition you’ve explored, people were present everywhere. Recent people the person has met, their family, friends, maybe a crush they talked to. The cognition is populated by recent and important memories. Yet this cognition is devoid of anyone at all.

You focus your gaze on the other side of the lake. You can see a small light. It wouldn’t take too long to reach it. Either way, you have to start exploring, but you will stay on your toes no matter what. Something is very wrong here.

> Enter the forest.
> Head toward the light.
> Exit the cognition.
> Write-in.

>>3128199
> Enter the forest.

Taking an hour or so for dinner. Feel free to keep voting until then, I'll write when I get back!

Nevermind, 'tis the holiday season and some things have come up. We'll continue this in a few days, I'll tweet when I'm going to run again. Thanks for playing!

>>3128338
Qst isn't updating for me properly, will need to catch up after family over for dinner leaves.

>>3128199
> Enter the forest.
Light is a trap!

Still lurking, OP. Liking the quest so far, don't give up for lack of players. Happy Holidays!

>>3128199
>> Enter the forest.

>>3128199
>Head towards the light

>>3128199
Try to see your reflection in the water, and test your abilities before you move on. See if you can walk on the water. Attempt to leap into the trees. Try to create a "dream" item. Test your dream tendrils. See if they can be extended.

Running in a little under an hour!
> Enter the Forest
>Test your abilities

The light in the distance flickers, a gentle glow on the shore, before going dark. Best to stay away from that area and remain cloaked in shadow. Still, you are in the cognition of another dreamer - the rules could be different. You glance into the clear lake water lapping at your feet. Along with the full moon above, you can see yourself reflected in the water. But it isn’t you. It’s your astral projection, a dark astronaut suit. You summon forth your Dream threads and weave them into several sharp tendrils, then extend them forward in a vicious strike. You still have your powers, too. You can’t help but grin. You’re in no danger after all. You strain your legs and lower your knees, then release the tension and launch yourself into the forest. You bound from branch to branch, sprinting up tree trunks and soaring through the misty air.

It’s time to hunt.

If you can find Ryan Farley’s dream-self and destroy it, you’d cause him to go brain dead. It would be a decisive victory, but the fallout in reality could get messy. Still, it wouldn’t be anything you couldn’t deal with. As you jump through the dense forest, you keep a keen eye on the ground below. Not a single soul. Zero dreams. What the hell is going on? If you’re in Ryan’s cognition, there at least has to be a dream of himself, right? Otherwise his mind would collapse...

You lash your whip at a branch and swing yourself above the canopy. Smoke. A steady stream of smoke billows out from the treeline ahead of you. A fire? With a few well executed leaps, you land on a branch near its source. It’s a forest clearing, and inside sits a cozy log cabin, larger than most. Too large, in fact. It comes across as an expensive log mansion more than anything. At the same time, it exudes a warm and inviting atmosphere.

You freeze. A figure passes in front of one of the seconds story windows. The windows are frosted over so it’s too hard to make out any details...

> Launch yourself through the window and take the figure by surprise.
> Knock on the front door.
> Find somewhere to sneak in through, such as a back door.
> Write-in.

File: Bread_Astral.png (93 KB, 513x663)

93 KB PNG

Here's a quick sketch of what Bread's astral projection looks like

>>3134759
> Find somewhere to sneak in through, such as a back doo

>>3134778
>Find somewhere to sneak in through
Writing

This… this is a good thing. Movement means dreams, which means that your plan to destroy Ryan’s dream is still applicable. Perhaps the only reason you didn’t see dreams by the lake was that they were all gathered in this mansion? Regardless, you’re going to have to make your way inside. You hop from branch to branch around the mansion, making your way from the front to the back. Best to be cautious.

Steam rises from a bubbling jacuzzi, and a game of croquet is set in the freshly cut backyard. This guy… just how rich does he think he is? His cognition can’t lie. This is how he views himself.

You hop down from your tree and dash to the back door. It’s a glass sliding door, also frosted over. Now that you’re close, you can lean against it and peer inside. It’s what you’d expect of a log cabin, if not a bit more extravagant - giant fur rugs, deer and moose heads mounted on the wall, a large fireplace. But no dreams…

You weave your threads into the space between the door and the wall and unlock the sliding door on the other side. You slide the door open and slip inside. All is silent for a few moments, but then you hear footsteps upstairs.

> Sneak upstairs and find the source of the sounds without being seen.
> Charge upstairs and confront whoever it is.
> Look around downstairs, perhaps you can find clues of some sort.
> Write-in.

>>3134825
> Look around downstairs, perhaps you can find clues of some sort.

> Look around downstairs, perhaps you can find clues of some sort.
Writing.

Loose wood planks creek above you, and you hear the light tap of boots stepping across the floor. That must be Ryan’s dream. Once you head up there and slash the smarmy fucker’s throat, this whole situation will be over.

But only this situation. There could always be another, then another, and one after that, because you are no longer the only Dreamer. Somehow a college freshman with a good upbringing, good grades and scholarships, a kind young man who treats his peers well, a goddamn psychology major, SOMEHOW he managed to figure out the Dreamer ritual that you devoted your whole life to learning.

You’re too smart to think that he will be the last. No - it would have been impossible for Ryan Farley to figure out the ritual on his own. There must be something in his cognition that can tell you how he obtained his power. A name, a location, anything. You just need something to go off of.

You begin opening doors, going through drawers, anything you come across. You do this as quietly as possible, while listening intently to any noise above you. You’re finding nothing useful when it comes to information about the ritual, but you are learning perhaps too much about Farley. Drawers stuffed with cash, plaques of psychological excellence covering the walls… this may be the most conceited cognition you’ve come across.

Then you come across a cabinet deep within a closet. Its dark wood is stained, and a rusty padlock seals it shut. Your tendrils wrap around the lock and strain, forcing it open with a metallic pop. The drawer swings open. You squint to see inside the dark chamber, and make out shapes. What the hell…? You see bottles of pills, hypodermic needles and syringes, jars of liquid--

You freeze in place. A shadow blots out the light from outside the closet. Something is behind you.

> Spin around and attack!
> Turn around slowly and raise your hands. “Let’s talk about this.”
> Write-in

>>3134908
> Spin around and attack!

> Spin around and attack!

>>3134928
>Attack!
Writing

>>3134908
> Turn around slowly and raise your hands. “Let’s talk about this.”
But lets attack anyways.

The creaking sounds from above have gone silent, and a dark shadow looms over you. There is nowhere to go but back the way you came. You’ve cornered yourself - but a dream is no match for your cognitive powers. You summon forth your thread, and spin around to slash at the dream. Your razor sharp tendril should slice clean through the figure, but instead they are sent flying backward. With a crash they hit the wall, sending several plaques and oil paintings clattering to the floor.

As they rise back to their feet, you get a better look. It is a man in a metal mask, split down the middle. One side is pitch black, while the other shines a bright silver. He wears a grey trench coat, a loose red tie fastened around his neck. On his head is a large brimmed hat. This isn’t a dream - it’s an astral projection!

He flicks his hand to the side, and green threads begin writhing and weaving together. After a moment their form solidifies into a sword.

“You’re like me, aren’t you? You’re Bread.”

You retract your threads, intertwining them into a whip. You ready yourself for his attack.

But it doesn’t come. Instead he just stands there, staring at you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. When I said that I was trying to help you I meant it. You’re deeply disturbed, Bread. I could tell as soon as I met you. You’ve gone through intensely traumatic experiences - you are socially deprived. I can do to you what I’ve done for so many other students. I can heal you. I’m not the bad guy.”

You narrow your eyes. Is this a trick?

“Just lower your weapon, okay? I have questions. I’m… I thought I was the only one.”

> “I don’t want you messing around in my head.”
> “How can I trust you?”
> Attack him while his guard is down.
> Write-in.

>>3134970
> “I don’t want you messing around in my head.”
> Attack him while his guard is down.

> Attack him while his guard is down.
We don't need fixing. He's the broken one, if anything, with a freaky empty head.

> “I don’t want you messing around in my head.”
> Attack him while his guard is down.
Writing

Actually first roll 1d20. I'll be taking BO3

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>3134995

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>3134995
Don't think we'll need it with >>3134998 but...

>>3135008
>>3134998
Very nice. Writing now.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

I just want to see.

“I don’t need you messing around in my head.”

With that, you lunge forward, bringing a tendril down on top of him. He brings up his sword to counter it - exactly what you expected. A second whip swings below the first, bashing his chest and sending him clean through the wall. You dash through the hole through the settling dust and rubble. You raise your tendrils to follow up your attack, but Ryan is nowhere to be found. Your eyes widen as you hear skittering above you. You dodge to the side but a searing pain surges through your back. Ryan drops from the ceiling, threads retreating back into his fingers, and he points his blade at you. He’s slightly hunched over, his mask dented and his hat askew.

“Stop it! You have questions and so do I! Killing me will achieve nothing. I swear I won’t mess with your head or anything,” he says.

“What benefit could there possibly be to keeping you alive?”

“If you don’t want me to heal you, I’ll just stay out of your way. I don’t know anything, honest! I just woke up with this power after taking a bunch of pills. That’s all I--”

Your thread creeps along the ground and wraps around the projection’s leg, pulling him off his feet. You can hear the wind get knocked out of him and you leap forward, pinning him to the floor.

“You’re a threat. You’re a loose end. If I kill you I no longer need to worry about you.”


“There’s gonna be more. You need an ally. Please...”

> Spare him
> Finish him
> One more question… (Write-in)
> Write-in

>>3135034
> Finish him

>>3135034
> One more question… (Write-in)
What kind of pills? Where did you get them?
> Finish him

If we can get ahold of those, we can empower future allies... or at least get them out of the hands of the public.

> One more question… (Write-in)
What kind of pills? Where did you get them?
> Finish him
Writing

“The pills you mentioned. Tell me about them,” you say.

“Huh? I don’t know what they were, a bunch of opioids or Xanax or something. They fucked me up, I don’t even remember what happened that night. I must have gotten my powers somehow during that time. So you understand, right? I can help you. I can--”

He is interrupted as you impale him through his chest. He goes silent, looking down at the wound with wide eyes. Crimson blood gurgles out, matching the red of his tie. His hand grab for the threads, but his grip is too loose to do anything about it.

“W-why…?” He gasps, before going limp.

You stand up and brush yourself off. So that’s that. But his story about pills… was he lying? Is it possible that he murdered someone and painted the intricate symbols on his forehead all in a high stupor? Before you can think on it further, the world around you begins to rumble and shake. It’s dangerous to remain here. You blink, and you’re outside.

You’re back in the meeting room. Ryan Farley is splayed out on the ground. There is no gaping chest wound, but his eyes devoid of life. Best to get out of here soon, but what to do about the body…?

TO BE CONTINUED

Thanks for playing! This thread is starting to near the edge of its lifespan, so I'll probably be migrating to a new thread for the next session. Follow my twitter if you want to stay up to date!

>>3135098
Seeya OP!

Ah I was late we could have used him. And killing him is going to cause a fallout since well we were the only person with him at the time of his death. This is going to be a major pain to cover up with no contacts. We can also consider the police to investigate giving us more heat.