>>4286317
>The Leader: An all American-boy. Tall, fit, handome, muscled, and with good grades. This one was beloved in high school, and is similarly beloved in his college. His charisma and intuition make him a natural-born leader
GOD BLESS THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

>>4286317
>>The Cheerleader: Gorgeous, tall, curved- men have been staring at her since she hit puberty, and they're staring at her now. She's an alpha bitch, and she chooses her friends carefully, and keeps them in-line. She's agile, strong, and fast- almost Amazonian in nature, and would be handy in a pickle, even if her grades (and common sense) aren't the best.

>>4286317
>The Cheerleader

File: Spoiler Image (55 KB, 355x500)

55 KB JPG

>>4286317
The Leader

would love a stupid good variant (pic related)

>>4286317
>The Cheerleader: Gorgeous, tall, curved- men have been staring at her since she hit puberty, and they're staring at her now. She's an alpha bitch, and she chooses her friends carefully, and keeps them in-line. She's agile, strong, and fast- almost Amazonian in nature, and would be handy in a pickle, even if her grades (and common sense) aren't the best.

>>4286320
+1

>>4286317
>>The Cheerleader: Gorgeous, tall, curved- men have been staring at her since she hit puberty, and they're staring at her now. She's an alpha bitch, and she chooses her friends carefully, and keeps them in-line. She's agile, strong, and fast- almost Amazonian in nature, and would be handy in a pickle, even if her grades (and common sense) aren't the best.

Haven't had a horror-themed quest yet, looking forward to this!

You are Lakshmi Singh. Tall, curved, and tan-skinned, you were widely known as the most beautiful creature on your high-school campus- and you're in the running for your college as well. You excelled in athletic activities, building up a toned, curved body that most other girls could only dream of- even if your grades were distinctly middling. Still, you built up a large network of friends- your bossy charisma and larger-than-life personality put you in charge of a lot of girls, and your ethereal looks and over-active libido made you more than a little popular with boys. So you put this crack team of loose contacts together for a winter vacation, with you as the unofficial head honcho. This is gonna be a week to remember.

That is, if you don't kill everyone by accidentally crashing the van.

You hear four voices shouting at you in unison as you swerve to avoid yet another pothole, all begging you to slow down and pay attention. Even though you know they're right, human pride is a fickle thing.

"Fuck off, I'm trying my best here! I've never driven on ice like this before!"

It's a flimsy excuse, but it's something. Beside you, a thin, pale figure, with unkempt hair and bloodshot eyes, sticks her head out the window and breathes out white. Whether it's the toke or her breath in the ice, you can't tell, but the next thing you know, she's pushed a blunt in front of your face.

"Take a drag, calm the hell down." You can hear the smirk in her voice, past the scattered "No"s coming from those in the back.

>Take a drag
>Shove her hand away

>>4286405
>Shove her hand away
"Not fucking now (insert name)."

>>4286405
>shove her hand away
No weed behind the wheel!

(Also, word of warning. This is a slasher quest. Expect gore, blood, death, explicitly described sex scenes, and a general sense of nihlism. If we get a POV character killed, it will stick, and we'll move on to the next one. This is not a forgiving genre.)

>>4286405
>Shove her hand away
>>4286412
I'm ready to do some very stupid things.

>>4286405
>Shove her hand away

>>4286405
>Shove her hand away

>>4286405
>Shove her hand away

You decide that it's not a good idea to get high while driving on an icy, pothole-filled road, and shove Anna's hand away. She gives a short whine.

"Buzkill."

You hear a laugh from behind you. "Wow, you're not as dumb as you look."

James Riva. Tall. Dark. Handsome. And a massive asshole. You simply flip him the bird and continue driving, smiling despite yourself. He lets out a chuckle that you can't help but note is a little sexy.

You come to a stop in front of a huge, antique cabin surrounded by a forest on all sides. It's absolutely gorgeous- and must cost a fortune, as Michael notes, walking up beside James. They're both tall and noticeably muscled, carrying the look of track runners, although James is slightly more so. Michael speaks.

"This is all yours?"

James chuckles and puts an arm around Michael. "Damn straight, it's all mine. Try not to look so green"

Michael rolls his eyes and heads back to the car to retrieve his gear. James turns to the rest of you, smirking. "Alright, I'm gonna go to the shed out back and get the gun."

"Gun?" Blaine speaks in a meek voice, the first thing he's said in quite a while, adjusting his glasses.

"Yeah, so I can shoot you." James grins from ear to ear and Blaine gulps. James shrugs.

"Nah, for real, I jut wanna make sure we're safe. Anyone else wanna come with?"

>Sure, go with James
>Nah, head inside

(Also, apologies for going dead, fell asleep.)

>>4287643
>>Sure, go with James

>>4287643
>Sure, go with James

>>4287676
>>4287679
You sigh, deciding you'd like to get some fresh air after spending four hours driving.

"Fuck it, might as well."

James grins from ear to ear, and you can't help but notice that his eyes seem to trace you ever so slightly. "Alright, let's go get armed."

The two of you head to the back of the cabin. Behind the cabin sits a large lake, stretching for at least the next three or so miles. It's gorgeous, like something out of a Christmas painting, as the frost takes edges of it, the trees encompassing every edge- although your eyes aren't on the lake. You can't help but note that James' ass looks absolutely great in his tight winter pants. The fact that he's kind of a terrible person be damned- hot is hot.

He comes to a small shed, and opens the combination lock. He heads inside briefly- and comes out with a black hunting rifle. You note that with his tight-fitting jacket, beanie, and chiseled jawline that lets out white breath in intervals, compounded with the gun in his hands, he looks like the very picture of masculinity. He grins, and you realize he might have caught you staring. He motions to an outcropping of rock, jutting over into the lake.

"Wanna go take some potshots?"

>Yeah, let's have some fun
>Nah, it's getting colder, let's head inside

>>4287723
>>Yeah, let's have some fun

>>4287723
>Nah, it's getting colder, let's head inside
Why is the MC acting gay?

>>4287729
MC is a girl...see >>4286405

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4287723
>Nah, it's getting colder, let's head inside

I don't want to die this early. We can fuck inside the cabin if we want to. It looks large enough.

>>4287758
Shit. Too late?

>>4287760
Oh no that's unrelated lol, you'll see later

You smirk.

"Look, normally I would, but the sun's getting low, I feel like we should head inside."

James scoffs. "Oh, boo hoo, it's getting a little cold. Grow a pair."

You roll your eyes. "And on that note, I'm gonna head inside. Feel free to join me- or freeze to death, it's up to you."

You spin on your heels, and head inside. As you do, you see a hint of movement in the thicket of trees to the right of the house. Probably a deer, spooked by the two of you- but it seemed a bit larger. Whatever it was, it's not worth fretting over.

It's warm, inviting, spacious, and absolutely gorgeous. Three stories of comfort and wealthy luxury, and you can finally take off your baggy winter clothes. All around the house, everyone's up to their own activities as they kill time before night falls

>Go set up cups and drinks with Michael
>Go do Yoga with Anna
>Play video games with Blaine
>Go set up your room with Marianne
>Write-in

>>4287770
>>Go set up cups and drinks with Michael

>>4287783
+1

>>4287770
>Go set up cups and drinks with Michael

>>4287770
>Go set up cups and drinks with Michael

>>4287783
>>4287814
>>4287918
Guys, cmon. "Yoga" with Anna? and y'all wanna go do prep work for a party? baka.

You walk over to the kitchen, where Michael's stocking the fridge with various forms of cheap booze. He speaks without turning around. "I gotta admit, I didn't think James was telling the truth when he talked about how loaded his folks were. Guess I was wrong." He turns, holding a Shock Top in one hand, opened. You smirk.

"Isn't it a bit early to get drunk?"

He chuckles. "I ain't gonna get drunk off of beer." You smile. His blonde hair, easy smile, and thick Southern drawl make him seem like he crawled off the set of a 50s musical- he's a walking stereotype, but it's hard not to love him. You take the beer, twisting off the cap, and take a swig. As you do, Marianne sticks her head in, red hair and glasses visible against the brown wood walls. "Whatca up to?" She grins.

You raise your bottle. "Drinking." You motion to the fridge. "Want some?" She shakes her head, and frowns. "No, I... probably not a good idea, you know." Michael laughs, and you scoff. She won't say it, but she's 18, and is worried about the age limit.

"What are you, a Puritan?" you tease, and she rolls her eyes, laughing. "I mean, if you guys want booze...I heard there's a cellar downstairs."

You open slightly in shock. "Marianne, you're supposed to be the moral one out of all of us. Where is this coming from?"

She blushes and smiles. "I don't wanna drink, but I do wanna see what's below the house. Wanna do a basement dive?"

Michael shrugs. "I'm down if you two are. Lakhsmi?"

>"Yeah, let's go into the creepy horror movie basement."
>"No, James isn't back yet."
>"Fuck it, you two go, I'm gonna find something else to do."

>>4288062
(Yeah no in retrospect that comes off as retarded, I was rushing through the post cause I had to run so I just came up with something weird on the fly for a stoner to be up to)

(BTW should I write up some character bios/pics? Makes it so I don't have to describe them every post)

>>4288183
yea, I wouldn't mind a little character bio and this seems like a decent time to do that.

>>4288176
>>"No, James isn't back yet."

>>4288183
Yes that would be very useful

>>4288176
>"Fuck it, you two go."

>>4288176
>>"Yeah, let's go into the creepy horror movie basement."

>>4288176
>"Yeah, let's go into the creepy horror movie basement."

>>4288268
Man, going balls deep. I dig it.
>creepy basement
>Shout for others not nearby that we're going to the basement if they want to come.

>>4288176
>>"No, James isn't back yet."

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Fuck it.

You shrug. "It's something to do."

You peek your head out from the kitchen. "Hey, we're raiding James' cellar, if anyone wants to come!"

"No thanks, I'm good!" Comes the reply from Blaine. Anna, however, saunters around the corner, her eyes now normal- her high has faded.

"Stumbling around a dark basement in a house I don't know, miles from civilization? Count me in."

You grin, and Marianne leads the way.

You come to the cellar door. It's small and almost imperceptible. Marianne tries to pry it open, but it's been close for some time, and stays wedged shut. Michael steps up to plate, and, with almost comical ease, lifts it. Marianne grumbles.

"I mean, I loosened it up..."

Michael grins, and heads down the single rickety metal ladder first. When you get down to the basement, you feel the old rock beneath your feet, and the only light comes from the hole above you. You can see two pathways vaguely, and pull out your phone to illuminate the basement.

>The first pathway has a large room at the end of it. You're guessing that's the cellar, and Michael and Marianne are headed that way.
>The second pathway branches off into several rooms. You can see several scattered boxes, and Anna is staring that way.

It's your choice. First path or second?

>>4288366
>>The first pathway has a large room at the end of it. You're guessing that's the cellar, and Michael and Marianne are headed that way.
Tell/drag Anna to follow us. It's just old junk there.

>>4288183
You should.

>>4288377
this

>>4288366
let's go with anna to check the other direction. Don't want her getting left behind.

"Let's split up." we said, unironically.

>>4288366
>first
Stick with the males so we can get in their pants, and then their heads.

You give Anna a slap on her firm little ass, and she yelps, turning back to you with mock rage.

"Come on. Nothing that way but old boxes. Let's get the booze." She nods, and you head down the first hallway.

You come to a large room, where Michael and Marianne are sifting around with their phone flaslights, looking, for all intents and purposes, like blind old folks. Anna laughs, and reaches up to something you can't see.

"Here", she says, and the sound of a switch being pulled sounds off. The room lights up with a dim and yellow bulb glowing brightly, dust covering it. You look around, and on either side of you, rows of vintage alcohol bottles stand, covered in dust. Jackpot.

Michael pulls out a bottle of (exorbitantly priced vintage champagne because your QM doesn't know shit about alcohol outside of getting blasted at a few college parties) and smiles. "James is one spoiled motherfucker."

You loot the bottle, along with a few others, and head back to the ladder.

And, through the dim light of your phones, you see can tell two things.

The cellar door is shut.

And something toppled the boxes in the second hallway, leaving their contents strewn out. Every single box, ever the ones that had already been on the ground.

Michael tries to offer an explanation to offset the sense of growing unease amongst all of you.

"...Must have been us sifting through the cases."

You do note that you four kept knocking the wooden cases against the wall as you searched for the right booze- so maybe that disturbed some integrity in the walls, knocked something over?

It's an explanation. A shitty one, but an explanation nonetheless. Still, you can't help but note that something feels WRONG down here. Anna is staring down the hallway once again.

>Go try to open the cellar door and gtfo
>Go down the hallway with Anna
>Write-in

>>4288432
>ask our big strong man Michael if he'll go open the door

>>4288432
>>Go try to open the cellar door and gtfo

Okay, QM. I'm game for something different like Dairy Queen.

>>4288432
>Go try to open the cellar door and gtfo

>>4288432
>Go try to open the cellar door and gtfo
We haven't even fucked yet. Don't kill us yet Mr slasher.

>>4288440
+1

You decide that your common sense has got the better of you, and you let Michael pass you by, climbing up the ladder. He tries to push open the cellar door, but it won't budge. He presses again, and again, and again. Dust falls from where he slams his shoulder into it. It remains shut. He grunts, and the unease in your stomach grows into outright fear. You feel your breathing getting heavy and panicked as it feels like the darkness is closing in around you. Anna's still staring into the black, and Marianne's biting her nails, desperately waiting for Michael to get the door open, as each of his slams sound off.

>Whack...whack...whack...

Then, all at once, the door shoots open, and you see two hands reach out and pull Michael through. Marianne yelps, and the breath catches in your throat as your blood runs cold.

Then a face pops in the cellar door's light.

"Boo, assholes!"

James looks like he's just won the lottery, and you can hear Blaine's scattered laughter upstairs. Your fright turns to anger, and you feel yourself turning red with what's either rage-or embarrasment. Or a mix. You're not sure. Marianne, who looked like she was about to pass out, lets out a sigh of relief, like all of her fears and worries have disappeared at once. Anna's still staring into the black. You tap her shoulder.

"You good?" You ask?

"Yeah..." comes her distant and distracted response. It's not too convincing.

You pull her by her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here." She breaks from her trance and follows.

All three of you girls head up the ladder, where the boys are waiting. Michael has a sheepish grin on his face as he leans against the wall, undoubtedly embarrased by his display against the cellar door. Blaine and James, however, have infuriatingly shit-eating grins on their face, as if they just won the lottery. You note with a level of amusement that this is the first time you've ever seen them get along- the two are polar opposites, both in personality and in social hierachy, and would normally be natural-born enemies. But, apparently, scaring your pants off is too easy to pass up.

James leans in close to you, his chiseled, handsome jaw bearing a smug grin.

"Next time, don't raid my shit without asking."

>Slap him
>Storm off indignantly
>Show him the bottles
>Write-in

>>4289186
>Show him the bottles

>>4289186
>Show him the bottles

>>4289186
Pinch his tit

>>4289202
>>4289228
You produce a bottle of (whatever the fuck I'm 21 I don't know vintage shit lmao) and wave it in his face. His grin fades and he stares at it as you wave it back and forth, seemingly impressed. You grin.

"If you stop being a little bitch, you get the first crack at it", you say in a sing-song voice. He smiles.

"Deal." You nod, letting him take the bottle to the kitchen as everyone wipes cellar dust off of their clothes, and goes to change into more fitting clothing for the upcoming hour. The sun's set real low, and you can now only barely see a few strands of light over the horizon, illuminating the lake out back. You note that, in this brief moment of respite, untouched nature has a beauty that nothing else can match.

Is there anything else you'd like to do?

>Write-in
>Time skip an hour to the party

(Since my insomnia seems to be killing the quest, as no one posts at these hours, I'm gonna go ahead and post character bios. If you guys have pics that you think would go well with these descriptions, go ahead and post them, I might make them canon.)

Michael Mansfield: A picture of American masculinity, this boy is everything you could ask for out of your hypothetical child. Smart, sweet, good-natured, and charismatic, who never does anything in excess, but also knows how to have a good time. In terms of looks, he’s tall and handsome, with the body of a track runner, and a smile that can put anyone at ease. He’s the sort of person who won’t fail at life, no matter what life throws at him. A natural-born leader. He and Blaine are childhood friends. You met him at a dormitory meet-and-greet, and while you two have made no moves on each other (on account of him being taken up until recently), there’s always room for new decisions. 18 years old.

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Anna Park-Soong: This girl lives life in a haze of smoke and cheeky grins.While her parents had high academic expectations for her, she was never much for that life, and instead found comfort with a blunt or a bong up to her lips. She’s snarky, laid-back, and fun. You and her are childhood friends, through thick and thin. 19 years old.

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James Adamsky: Rich, handsome, tall, muscled, and mean. The two of you went to the same high school, but due to his reputation as a heartbreaker and a bully, you two never interacted much. , He ended up on the same football team as Michael in college, and, while none of the guys are particularly fond of his personality, he’s loaded, and no one’s gonna pass up a weekend like this. Anna has a crush on him, and is considering jumping his bones… and you’ve been taking peeks yourself. What can you say, a girl’s allowed a bad boy every now and then. 19 years old.

Bauldino “Blaine” Garcia Himenez: Small, thin, and timid, this one never grew out of his “awkward teenager” phase. He’s got thick glasses and a few pimples on his forehead, and generally doesn’t get invited to many occasions. Still, he’s been friends with Michael since they were in elementary, and he’s got a good heart, so no one minds having him around- but it would help if he talked a little more. 18 years old.

Marianne Winters: Also short with thick glasses, the difference is that this is a pretty little redhead, with freckles on her smooth, youthful cheeks. She’s hilariously pure- raised by Catholic parents in bumfuck Virginia, she’s still conditioned to not open her legs or touch a drop of alcohol. She’d have been easy pickings for the perverts in the dorm if you hadn’t taken her under your wing. Granted, what she does this weekend is up to her. 18 years old.

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>>4289340
(forgot pic)

>>4289263
>Write-in
Grab a boy to watch the sunset and for a quickie.

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Lakshmi "Lulu" Singh: Third-Generation Indian-American, with a face straight out of a Bollywood movie and a body that every other girl on campus would kill for. You’re toned, tall, and curved in every place it matters, with a bit of muscle that drives men crazy- and with your over-active libido, you were more than happy to reciprocate. You were a cheerleader in high-school, and rose through the social ranks until you became the Queen Bitch of the campus, with a posse of followers at your beck and call. You’re bossy and a little mean, but you’ve toned down since high school, if only a bit. You care about the people close to you, and will defend them to your last breath. 18 years old.

>>4289344
Sunsets are awfully romantic, and this house has more than a few ledges to watch them from. You decide the company of a man might best be in order. You smile mischievously to yourself. Who are we asking to watch the sunset with us?

>James >>4289338

>Michael >>4289333

>Blaine >>4289339

>>4289352
Not the black one

>>4289353
there's no black one but okay I guess...?

>>4289352
Michael

>>4289355
Based

>>4289355
Michael

>>4289352
Michael now, James tonight

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You saunter over to Michael's room. He's up on the bed, looking at something on his phone. You knock on the doorframe, and smile. He looks up at you, giving a small half-smile as he sees who it is.

"What's up, Lulu?"

"Oh, nothing..." You say, twirling your fingers through your long, dark hair and giving a small lip bite, feigned ignorance in your voice. "It's just that the sun's setting, and it looks awfully pretty." You look at him through a few strands of hair covering your face.

"Wanna come watch it with me? If you're not busy, of course."

He grins, a cocky, easy smile, offset by hard green eyes that seem to pierce right into and send shivers down your spine. "Nothing else to do, right?"

You nod, spinning on your heels in an exaggerated manner.

A minute later, the two of you are in a covered veranda in the corner of the house. The house's heating keeps you warm, but you've cracked open a large windowsill, so you can see the sunset. You mainly see forest right now, with a bit of the lake visible through it, as the sun sets into the distant, ice-covered mountains. You both breathe icy breaths into the cold air. You're wearing a loose-fitting Grimes t-shirt, and cut-off jeans. Michael's wearing a tank-top and baggy sweatpants, and looks, for all intents and purposes, absolutely gorgeous. He lets out another breath, and you speak.

"Pretty, huh?"

"Gorgeous...." He responds, and for a second, you think his eyes might be on you. You let out a nervous breath into the night air, and he speaks again.

"Beth loved stuff like this. Nature, untouched, away from everyone...it was her speciality."

Beth. His ex, and the reason you never made a move before. You bite back annoyance. "You miss her?" You ask.

"I prefer to live in the moment." Now his eyes are on you for sure. Oh god. Oh God.

>Make a move (write-in)
>Wait for him to make a move
>Rebuff him (write-in) and keep watching the sunset's end
>This is too slutty, even for you. You need to leave, right now.

>>4289378
>Wait for him to make a move
Encourage him if he's too timid

>>4289381
support

>>4289381
>>4289391
You both stand, waiting for someone else to make the first move. Then, all at once, you feel his hand trace around to your backside, and grab one of your asscheeks, kneading. You let out a gasp, white breath escaping from your lips into the night air, and then feel him move behind you. He grabs you by the hair and pulls you into a kiss, and you moan into each other's mouths, tongues wrestling for sheer dominance as he traces his strong arms up your shirt, kneading your ample chocolate bosom, a tit in each hand. You break the kiss and let out a series of moans as he licks the side of your face, and you feel him push you forward gently, his rock hard member feeling like iron against your low-cut jeans.

>Lean forward and brace against the windowsill
>Write-in
>No, this is too much, I need get out of here!

told you this would get explicit

>>4289440
>>Lean forward and brace against the windowsill
Close the windowsill first so we won't fall off though.

Explicit is good

>>4289440
>Lean forward and brace against the windowsill

Take off the shirt so we can feel his hands

>>4289463
+1

You rip off you shirt and toss it to the side, where it hits the wall and slides down. You hear him pull down his sweatpants, and then the little clothing around your modesty, and then you feel his fingers rubbing down below. You let out a shudder, and his mouth is at your neck, nibbling. You move forward and shut the window, and then suddenly you feel yourself pressed up against it, and then he's sliding himself into you. He's long, and thick, and you let out a long gasp, shuddering into the glass. He lets out an uncharacteristic moan into your ear.

What follows isn't loving. He keeps you pinned against the glass as he goes, slamming himself into you over and over, the sound of your bodies clapping together filling their air alongside your respective moans. He's going so deep that every now and then, you can feel his balls clap against you.

It quickly becomes clear that neither of you have had a good lay in quite some time, and the end approaches after only two minutes of wild rutting, your moans turning to high pitched screams as your toes curl in the short jeans and black panties pooled around your ankles. He's got one hand on your bare asscheek, and another on an exposed tit, kneading a black nipple in his fingers. You feel him grasp, harsh, and his thrusts reach a peak. Getting you off is now an afterthought to him: All that matters is reaching the release. You start to clench up and you walls begin to tighten, and it's your time, too.

"Michael, I'm-AH! I'm gonna...!"

You feel his tongue swirling on your coffee brown shoulder, and he responds.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm...guh...Ah!"

>let him come inside
>tell him to pull out
>write-in

>>4289830
>let him come inside

>>4289830
We brought some pills didn't we?

>>4289830
First round inside, second round breasts.

>>4289891
nope

>>4289830
>pull out!

>>4289940
crap. ah well it's not like we're gonna live long. do this >>4289937

>>4289872
>>4289937
>>4289997
You clench around him, and let out a final scream. In response, he can only manage a single "FUCK!" as he bites down on your shoulder and hilts into you, twitching and spurting himself inside you. Your eyes go cross and you let out a deep shudder. He keeps thrusting, and cumming, and for a few moments, you wonder if it's ever going to end, standing on your tiptoes as he hilts himself inside you. Then, all at once, he pulls himself out. Reflexively, you turn around, wondering what the issue is, only for two thick ropes of white to shoot up from where he's holding his prick in hand, each one landing on either of your chocolate tits. You laugh lustfully, and he simply stares at your body, his eyes tracing from your sweat-covered neck, to your semen-covered bosom, to your shaved, brown mound, where you're leaking his seed. He lets out a satisfied gasp, his eyes heavy, and you watch a single bead of sweat trickle down his abs, then his six-pack, then down to his softening member, still slick with your juices. He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes heavy as he runs his tongue across his lips and breathes in and out.

"Fuck yeah..."

You laugh yourself, leaning back against the window and sitting on the windowsill. "Damn straight" comes your response. You close your eyes and catch your breath. His words take the breath away from you momentarily, however.

"Are you safe?"

>Yeah, nothing to worry about! (Lying, roll me a d20 for persuasion)
>No...no, I'm not
>Write-In (roll d20 if you're lying.)

>>4290053
>Write-In (roll d20 if you're lying.)
Get real close. Whisper in his ear
>"maybe, maybe not"

>>4290053
>No...no, I'm not
I just had period two days ago though. We should be safe.

>>4290072
*my period

>>4290068
The best defense is a good offense, as they say. You adopt a look of predatory lust, and stand up. You bring your hands to your bosom, and rub the seed across your nipples, into your skin. His eyes go from lidded to wide, and you see his fists clench with sheer desire. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and lick his imacculate jawline, getting up to his ear.

"Maybe, maybe not" you whisper.

There's a pregnant pause of silence as he takes the words in. Then his hands shoot out, grabbing you by each of your perfect, muscled asscheeks. The next thing you know, you're back up against the window, seated on the windowsill. He's leaning down, practically raping your mouth with his tongue and you let out a series of girlish giggles and moans. He breaks the forced kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you as he grabs hold of each of your toned legs, lifting them up. Your back is against the glass and your ass is on the windowsill, and he grins a mean, cocky smile as you feel his half-mast etching itself back to full sail against one of your brown thighs.

>Time for round two (write-in for anything specific you want)
>No, the party's gonna start soon, I need to shower
>Write-in

>>4290124
>>Time for round two
Doggy and tell him to give your boobs some gentle loving

>>4290124
>Time for round two (write-in for anything specific you want)

>>4290175
+1

>>4290175
>>4290194
>>4290264
You decide that caution can wait, and struggle out of his grasp, turning around and positioning both your hands against the glass as a brace. You shake your tits and stare back at him through sweaty hair. He doesn't even wait, and slides it inside you, bringing his hands around to knead and play with your ample bosom.

It's not a quickie this time. He goes long and hard, kneading your tits and nipples with every thrust, letting out animalistic groans and grunts. You yourself have lost all semblance of restraint, and sing and moan to the glass in front of you, hands barely holding you in place. After what could be 5 minutes, or ten, you feel the familiar clenching running through you, and his thrusts are reaching the same peak from before, his grunts higher-pitched and more desperate. It's about to happen again

>tell him to pull out this time
>let him nut in you again
>Write-in

>>4290486
>tell him to pull out this time
Mouth this time.

>>4290486
>pull out
do it in the butt

Rolled 1 (1d2)

1 - mouth
2 - ass

>>4290486
Shallow his lifeforce and grow stronger

You scream as you climax again, you toes curling, pressing your face against the glass. You go limp, and nearly collapse, but he grabs you by your elbows, using you like a fuckdoll while he holds you up. You muster up a bit of energy, and cry out "Wait!" He slows down, puzzled, and you squirm out of his grip, getting on your knees. His eyes light up with understanding, and then anticipation. You see that he has to actively resist the urge to grab your head and start skullfucking you.

You sit, face to face with an 8 inch long, veiny, thick, uncut cock. You smile and lick the head, and he lets out a gasp, and his face cringes. "I'm...it's..." He barely manages to gasp out, and you understand. You bring your hands around his wonderful, muscled ass, and he's in your mouth now, and then your throat as you supress your gag, tears in the corner of your eyes.

And then it begins to twitch.

>Swallow it all
>Take it out and point it at your face
>Take it out and point it at your body
>Take it out and point it at the window
>Write-in

>>4290588
>store it in your cheeks, gargle it, then spit it out

>>4290588
>Swallow it all. Take his lifeforce

>>4290588
>>Swallow it all
We have a party to attend. Can't spend too long in bath.

>>4290588
>Take it out and point it at your body
Saw

>>4290612
>>4290613
"Oh, god, yes!" You hear the shout a second before the blasts come, and the bitter, familiar, wonderful taste of seed fills your mouth. You count your lucky stars that he emptied himself into you earlier, because he's still got more than a few ropes left in him. You feel his balls against your chin as he shouts, emptying blast over blast down your throat, laughing a cocky, disbelieving laugh that can only be described as one of pure triumph. You swallow it, letting out a small cough at the last two ropes, but you keep it in your mouth. His hips still, and you stop your perverted groping, bringing them down to his toned calves. You swallow the final ropes, and he lets out a final moan.

You both spend the next few minutes breathing like you both ran a marathon together as he goes soft on your tongue. You leave your face in his crotch, letting him fall from your mouth and leaving it pressed against your cheek. He runs his fingers through your sweaty hair as he stares out the window, looking like a king.

"I'm a fucking God..." He croons out, staring at the night. You giggle, and give him a small kiss on his tip as an agreement. He's silent for the next half minute, basking in his primal victory, before he speaks again.

"Wha...?"

You look up, and his eyes have gone wide as he stares out the window. You lean up, kissing his gorgeous six pack as you rise, and drape your arms around his shoulders, kissing his abs as you stare at him with questioning, fake doe eyes.

"What's wrong?", you ask in an overly-girlish voice. He's staring out the window, still.

"I thought I saw...never mind." There's distinct unease in his voice, and you get the feeling he's playing it down still.

>What was it?
>Ignore it, we need to shower, the party's about to start
>Write-in

>>4290744
>>What was it?

>>4290744
>What was it?
Dun dun dun

>>4290744
>What was it?
Oh I'm sure it was nothing

>>4290744
>what was it?

>>4290744

> What was it?

>>4290744
>>What was it?

Your faux-doe eyes have been replaced with genuine questioning now. "What? What did you see?" He keeps staring ahead.

"It looked like...like...a person...but, different...just..staring at us."

He looks down, and sees you still clinging to him, your eyes still not understanding.

"So you started seeing things...after I finished blowing you?", you note with a growing, smug smile. You knew you were good, but being THAT good sends a rush of pride and cockiness through you. He sees your smile, and the sense of unease leaves his face.

"Guess you got me seeing things..." He says with a cocky, Southern grin. "How's that make you feel?"

You lick your two front teeth, the taste of him still heavy on your tongue. "Like I wanna go a third time." He motions to his now flaccid member in response. "I'm tapped out."

You lean in, inches away from his lips. "We got the whole night."

With that, you spin on your heels, heading for the bathroom at the end of the hall, Michael giving you a slap on one of your asscheeks as you turn. You giggle and walk, feeling triumphant and utterly satisfied.

You get to the bathroom, closing the door and looking yourself over. Your hair is tossled, you're covered in sweat, and you've got specks of semen on your tits and staining your pussy. And yet...goddamn, you still look gorgeous. You go, girl.

But, still gotta clean up.

You start the shower, pissing out Michael's seed as it warms up. You climb in as the mirror fogs up, and clean out the rest as best you can, gargling and spitting shower water in order to wash the thick taste of Texan cum out of your mouth. You run old shampoo through your hair, feeling it take the sweat out of the knots, and sigh. And then you feel it.

Cold.

You're in hot, steaming water, but you feel cold. Goosebumps form on your arm. Your spine feels like it's freezing up. You feel constricted, like there's something slowly tightening around you. And then you feel the eyes on you.

You turn around. The curtain is made of a vaguely plastic-feeling material, and it's only barely transparent, and added to the fog, you can only make out the vaguest of shapes in the ornate bathroom. But still, you see it. A figure. Standing there. Facing you. Watching.

>Hello?
>Michael, if you wanna go again, just say so.
>Scream
>Open the curtain and see who it is
>Write-in

>>4291711
>Scream
>Open the curtain and see who it is

>>4291718
+1

>>4291718
>>4291749
You let out a shriek, opening the curtains to see

-nothing. Nothing at all. Just the bathroom, empty as it ever was. You look around, searching for any sign of someone hiding, waiting to pop out and scare you, or grab you, or bury an axe in your chest, but you see nothing.

And then, without you touching the valve, the water stops.

>Call for help
>Get out and look around
>Get out and try to leave the bathroom
>Huddle in the shower
>Write-In

>>4291767
>Get out and look around
>"This is seriously not the time to be fucking with me guys."

>>4291784
Support

>>4291767
>>Get out and try to leave the bathroom

>>4291784
>>4291822
You swallow the fear bubbling in your stomach, and step out, water dripping from your body onto the wood below. You take a look around the small bathroom, and...nothing.

"This is NOT the time to fuck with me, guys, cut it out!"

No response. It's quiet. Dead quiet. Unnaturally quiet. You can't hear the wind outside, the sound of your friends moving around through the house. There's...nothing. Nothing except you and the room. And a faint sound.

Crackling. You turn, and see the mirror. Where there was once fog on the edges, there's now frost. You see yourself in the glass, nude, covered in water, smiling wide.

You aren't smiling.

>Call for help
>Try to get out of the bathroom
>"What...what is this?"
>See what the mirror does
>Write-in

>>4291941
>Call for help
>Try to get out of the bathroom

>>4291941
>>Call for help
>>Try to get out of the bathroom

>>4291950
>>4291954
The response from you is instantaneous.

"Help! Someone, there's something in the...someone help me! Please!"

You try the doorknob. It's not locked, but it won't open. You keep trying and trying, and it won't turn, and the image of you in the mirror just widens its smile. You try the doorknob again, and then you feel it grow cold. You watch as frost covers it, cracking it open, and it falls at your bare feet. Panic takes you, and you try to break the door down with your shoulder, still screaming for someone, anyone to help you. No one comes, and the door remains frozen in place.

Literally. Frost covers the cracks of the door, and then the door itself. You turn, and there's simply you, the bathroom, and the frozen mirror, bearing your image, smiling back at you. Wider than you've ever smiled.

Wider than any human could ever smile.

>"What...what are you?"
>Try to break the mirror
>Keep calling for help

Make a cross and start praying.

>>4292008
>Try to break the mirror

>>4292060
You spring forward, driving your fist straight at the figure's face, not caring whether or not you cut yourself on the glass. It doesn't move with you.

Your bare fist hits the glass, and it cracks. The cracks spread outward from your fist, and all at once, it shatters, falling in on itself. A black void stands from of you where the mirror once was. And you still see yourself, standing, staring, smiling. She points, a hand coming through the threshold, close to you- bringing a chill to your body as it does. It points at you, and then lowers- at your stomach.

"He...put...it...in you..."

You don't hear the voice so much as you feel it- in your spine, in your feet, in your finger, drilling through your skull like million tiny pins. It pushes the finger to touch your bare stomach.

"It....grows...inside you....It will be mine."

And then it lunges forward.


You wake with a start, the water pouring onto your face and open mouth. You hear knocking, and a voice.

"Lulu, the party's starting! Come on, hurry your ass up!"

Anna. You must have dozed off. You have a tendency to do that after sex...but you've never had a nightmare like that before. And it didn't feel like a nightmare...

You throw those thoughts out of your mind, opening the door. Anna stands there, wearing a thin tank top and short shorts, her short hair actually combed for once. But her eyes are turning red, and she carries both a blunt and a familiar smell with her. She carries your party clothes in her free arm, and tosses them at you.

"The hell took you so long?" She asks quizzically, leaning against the doorframe, watching you change. You two have known each other since middle-school, nudity hasn't been an issue for a long time- the blush you develop instead comes from an attempt to come up with an excuse.

"I...took a nap."

Anna grins wide. "Is that what you call getting your brains fucked out now?"

You smile despite yourself as you slip your clothes on.

>Deny your tryst with Michael
>Admit it
>Tell her about the dream
>Write-in

>>4292206
>>Admit it
>>Tell her about the dream

>>4292206
>Admit it
>Tell her about the dream

>>4292418
You laugh as you walk up to her, now clad in a loose-fitting tank-top and short shorts of your own.

"That obvious?"

Anna bites her lip playfully. "You have all the sublety of a freight train." She leans in and flicks your nose, pot heavy on her breath. But her eyes grow quizzical as she does.

"You're nervous. What's up?"

You sigh, and reluctantly tell her about the nightmare. She frowns, listening intently all the while. Once you're done with your ramble, she nods, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"You're in the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter. Shit gets creepy. Here."

You see the blunt get shoved in front of your nose once again.

"Calm down, and let's get this party started." As if on cue, you hear the music start up downstairs.

>Fuck it, you need a haze right now
>You're about to get smashed, no need to get high
>Write-in

>>4292442
>You're about to get smashed, no need to get high

>>4292442
>You're about to get smashed, no need to get high
Take one smoke maybe

>>4292442
>>Fuck it, you need a haze right now

>>4292795
>>4292854
You wave it off, and she frowns. "Buuuuzkilll..." She says, taking a drag and blowing it in your face. You grin as you let out a small cough, and you put your arm around your shoulder as the two of you head downstairs.

Downstairs, everything's setting up, still. Blaine's fumbling with large, expensive surround sound speakers, Michael and James are drinking out of red cups on an old couch in front of a giant flatscreen television, and Marianne's on her phone, leaned against the wall. As you pass by Michael, you shoot him a knowing smile, running your hands across your short shorts- you don't look at his face, but you hear him let out a familiar shudder as he stares. "Fuck yeah," You whisper to yourself.

And then, in the next 10 minutes, Anna and James have produced a bottle of vodka, laid it out on the floor, poured it out into six shot glasses, and laid them as a ring around the bottle- and then everyone's sitting as a ring around the glasses themself, between the couch and TV.

"Truth or Dare" Michael grins. "Fast-track to getting hammered. You in, baby girl?" Behind you, Marianne is nervously clinging to the wall, unsure. You get the feeling she'll follow your lead.

>Yeah, let's play
>Nah, I'm good
>Write-In

>>4293234
>Write-In
Let's not get hammered immediately. How about a game of 20 questions first to ease things?

>>4293245
sure why not

>>4293234
>Yeah, let's play

>>4293234
Really digging this so far, OP.

>Yeah, let's play!

>>4293686
Thanks m8, sorry for being a bit slow today, been bulk shopping

>>4293715
No problem OP. Take care, we have a long way to go.

>>4293715
No worries, man--do what you gotta do!

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Bumping

>>4293234
>Yeah, let's play
But Marianne can play without drinking if she wants.

>>4293715
No problem, its a great quest OP

>>4293441
>>4293686
>>4295207
You shrug. "Fuck it, something to do." That seems to be your motto. You turn to Marianne. "You know, you can play without drinking, if you want." You give her a reassuring smile. She swallows and speaks.

"No...I...I'll play." She smiles nervously, and you nod. The two of you take your place in the circle, and they space out the shot glasses close to you, and then put a cap on the vodka bottle, turning it on its side. James speaks.

"Alright, we're only doing this to get started off, not to get fucked up immediately, so we won't do repeat turns. Now let's establish the rules- there are none. Anything goes."

Marianne gulps. "Anything?" James turns to her and grins, his face both cruel, mocking, and slightly lustful, tracing her up and down. "You can refuse, but then you gotta drink." Marianne nods. "If the chosen goes through with it, then the challenger's gotta drink. Simple enough, yeah?"

Everyone nods, and James nods back, satisfied.

"Alright, since you're all here on my wonderful dime, I'm gonna take the first spin." Before anyone can protest, her leans over, spinning the vodka bottle. It spins and spins and spins, clear liquid sloshing and churning, landing on...

Who else but you? You sigh, and James lights up from ear to ear.

'Truth or Dare, bitch?"

>Truth
>Dare
>Refuse and drink
>Refuse and quit
>Write-In

>>4295405
>Truth

>>4295405
>Truth

>>4295417
>>4295468
You cock your head, accepting his push. "Alright...truth, asshole."

James grins. "What were the noises we all heard coming from upstairs 45 minutes ago?"

You blush momentarily, not registering the fact that you had been fucking LOUD. You reflexively look back to Michael. He's leaned on his arms, a little half-smile of pride on his face. You look back to the group. Everyone's staring at you, waiting.

"Well?", James asks.

>Smile and brag about the quickie (Write-in if you want)
>Lie (Write-In, roll 1d20)
>Refuse and drink

>>4295488
>>Smile and brag about the quickie (Write-in if you want)
You want some too James?

>>4295500
Support

>>4295500
You smile wide at everyone, deciding that shame is for prudes and cowards. You motion to Michael.

"That Texan over there was balls deep inside me," You say with a wry smile and no hesitation. Everyone else's eyes light up, and there's a series of oohs and laughter as Michael smiles like he's the lord of fucking Babylon or something, Marianne blushing in embarrassment beside him at the lewd talk. You turn to James, who's eyeing you down like a piece of meat with those hard, perverted eyes of his. You lick your lips in an exaggerated manner.

"Why, James, you want a round?" James' eyes go wide, and there's another round of oohs as he smiles at you wordlessly and takes the shot, his face clenching at the burning sensation of the vodka. "Whoo!", he says as he finishes it, setting it down and letting a little bit dribble of his chiseled jawline. You catch a glance from Michael, and you get the feeling that he might be annoyed at your flirts, but you don't want to find out.

Anna leans over, whispering in your ear in a sing-song voice. "Sluuuuut..." You grin and whisper back, "You know it." She giggles and pecks you on the cheek. Your turn to spin.

>Roll 1d5, first reply decides it
>1=Marianne
>2=Michael
>3=Blaine
>4=Anna
>5=James

Rolled 4 (1d5)

>>4295535

>>4295537
The bottle spins and spins and spins, round and round, until it slows, and for a split second, it looks like you just rolled yourself...but it stops right beside you. Anna.

Your best buddy since childhood, thick and thin, you know her more than anyone else here. She smirks at the bottle, taking a drag from her blunt and blowing it in your face. You cough. She leans back and responds affirmatively.

"Dare".

A chorus of ooohs and "Oh shits" resound. You grin wide, not surprised. Anna's always been stingy with personal info, to an extreme extent.

There are no no rules past this point. You've got a chance to make your best friend do ANYTHING you want her to.

>Write-In

>>4295544
>Butt chug a wine cooler/beer/small bottle of whatever

>>4295544
French kiss James

>>4295544
>Striptease in front of everyone

>>4295577
Support

>>4295577
This

>>4295577
>>4295699
>>4295720
As you stare at her, contemplating what you want from her, you feel eyes on you. Watching. Fiery, lustful. Hard blue, mean and horny. James. You take Anna by the chin and pull her in close, whispering into her ear.

"Kiss that motherfucker. Use your goddamn tongue."

You lean back, and look at her. A grin forms along her face. You've seen her staring at James, eyeing him down, licking her lips. She won't say no to this. She moves even closer to you.

"Drink up, slut." She pecks you the lips as she says it, and you smack her on her tight little ass as she stands, grabbing your shot with one hand and downing it. It feels like fire going down, and your eyes water for a moment. When they come back, Anna's standing in front of James, her face stoic. James stands, towering over her, 6'3 Ukranian blood against 5'6 Korean. There's a pause, and she blows smoke in his face.

And then the blunt's on the floor, and she's on him. Even past the cheering of the group, and the embarrassed squeals of Marianne, you can hear the sound of their moans and their tongues struggling for dominance, Anna rubbing her hands against Jame's six-pack. James' hands shoot on, and they're on her ass, kneading and groping in front of everyone. Anna steps back for balance, crushing the blunt underfoot, and then she's jumped up, legs around his waist, their tongues swirling as they unleash a day's worth of untapped lust onto each other. They stop short of actually boning, the kiss breaking as he lets her down, a trail of spit between them. She turns around, walking back to you and high fiving you in triumph.

From there, the game dissolve, and the drinking and dancing starts.

>Get a little tipsy
>Get drunk
>Get absolutely fucking hammered like everyone else
>Get completely hammered and high

>>4295825
>Get drunk

>>4295825
>Get drunk
Gotta get in character...

>>4295825
>>Get completely hammered and high

>>4295825
>Get absolutely fucking hammered like everyone else

>>4295825
>Get drunk

>>4296012
>>4296240
>>4296792
A blur. That's what the night is from that point is, as the game breaks. Images flash through your head.

Dancing in front of the television as a BROCKHAMPTON music video blares at deafening levels, all eyes on you as you move to the beat like an absolute pro. Anna joining in, clumsily, with you leading her. James goading Marianne into taking shots as she takes her hairpin and glasses off. Michael pouring Screwdrivers down yours and Anna's throats. Blaine jumping up and down on the couch with a can in his hand, telling some terrible anecdote. James pulling Anna away and the two of them resuming their makeout session, getting high and blowing smoke in each other's mouths. Debauchery and revelry as lights flash and loud noises blow out your eardrums.

And then, all at once, it dies down. You're standing in the middle of the room, staring at a fan as it spins, round and round, enjoying the dizzinness it brings you. Beer cans and bottles and red cups and a few cigarrette butts are all around your feet, and the music's now dead. You take a moment to recall where everyone is.

Michael needed to stop his head spinning, so he climbed into the hot tub on the third floor. James and Anna are watching something on the TV in the main room, munching on hastily prepared snacks to work off their high. Marianne couldn't handle her first time, and she's in the bathroom, spilling her guts and yelling at anyone who comes to check on her to "please fuck off and let me die." And Blaine...was pissed off about SOMETHING, and sulked off back to his room, asking everyone to please let him sleep this off. You take your eyes off the fan, adjusting and keeping your feet steady.

(Note. We are about to POV switch. You're choosing what Lulu does before we head away from her for a little bit, and we'll likely come back to her "in media res" of whatever your decision is.)

>Go sleep off your drunkness
>Go check on Marianne
>Go watch the movie with James and Anna
>Go to the hot tub with Michael
>Write-in

>>4296947
>Go watch the movie with James and Anna

>>4296947
>>Go to the hot tub with Michael
Let James and Anna have their moment while we do what we do best

Rolled 2 (1d2)

You decide that James and Anna can use this time to work their shit out. You could use some hot water on your skin.

You head upstairs.


-------------------------BLAINE---------------------------

It was a kiss. It was a fucking kiss. That was all you wanted. That was all you'd wanted since you agreed to go here. Marianne was dancing with you, she was laughing with you, she'd poured a shot of vodka down your throat. James and Anna had been doing the same, and they were against the fireplace, macking off. So you'd smiled and leaned in, that's all.

And she'd shrieked and shoved you off, like you were a fucking animal trying to hump her leg or something. Then she'd run to the bathroom and locked herself in, and thrown off all your attempts at an apology. And then, at the end, you could hear her vomiting. So you'd taken another shot, and then another.

And now you were out here. In the snow, in the dark of the slightly snowed-over road leading into the cabin. It's pitch black, and only the light of the cabin at your back and the moon above is giving you view in front of you, the twisting shapes of the trees against the night.

She wouldn't have pushed James or Michael off, you note with sheer, blithering resentment. Tall, handsome football players, who had everything in their life given to them. They'd have been in her pants within the minute. You kick a mound of snow in front of you, full of rage.

You're met with dead silence, and cold. Biting cold, even through your multiple hastily thrown-on jackets. And the realization. It had been her first time drinking, and she'd been looking for her friends to look out for her. She wouldn't have kissed any of them, and none of them would have tried.

Except you. You tried, and now she's never gonna trust you like that again. Resentment gives way to regret, and you feel shame. And pee.

You need to pee.

That's why you're here. To piss. You drank the most out of anyone there, and before you passed out, you decided to come out and write something in the snow. What was it again?

>Your name
>"Sorry."
>"Kill me."
>Write-in

>>4297096
>>"Sorry."

>>4297105
>>4297096
(Oh yeah, also roll 1d20 to see if you can actually do it, since, you know...blackout drunk)

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>4297110

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>4297096
>Sorry

>>4297137
(I'll go with the first for this one)

Even after fumbling with your zipper, struggling to pull it out, barely managing to light it up with your phone's flaslight, you do a pretty damn good job at it, writing out "Sorry" with your piss, with only the "S" and one of the "r"s looking kinda fucked up. You zip up your cock, and turn back to the cabin.

And then your phone's flashlight dies.

Okay, that's fine. Just look to where the cabin's lights are.

There's no lights. Just white. Pure white. A snowstorm. You're in a snowstorm. And then the freezing, biting, unyielding cold hits you, and you feel like your frozen in place. Every hair stands up on end, and your nerves cry out for warmth.

But there's no wind. It's dead quiet, and the only sound you can hear is your breathing as you wonder how the fuck you missed a snowstorm forming around you, and where the hell the cabin is.

You can't see the road anymore, and you don't know which way you were facing away from the cabin. But through the white, you see it. A faint light, almost imperceptible. The cabin? Maybe it's your eyes playing tricks on you.

You can still make out the shapes of the pine around you. Maybe you should head towards them, see if they provide some cover from the snow so you can get your bearing.

>Head towards the light
>Scream for help
>Head for the trees
>Write-In

>>4297236
>>Scream for help
>>Go 180 degree in the direction you pissed

>>4297236
>Go 180 degree in the direction you pissed

>>4297236
>Head towards the light

>>4297472
>>4297771
You decide that you're gonna trust your gut, and head 180 degrees from where you pissed- or at least, what you feel a 180, since you can barely see.

And that just so happens to be the direction of the light.

You head towards it, into the white of the storm. You still can't hear it, but you feel the snow smacking into your face, turning your cheeks blue. It feels like all the heat's been vacuumed out of your body. You need to get inside.

From your right, you hear something.

"Blaine, where the hell are you going?"

Lulu. She sounds distant, and confused, and frightened. And then another voice.

"Bauldino, get the fuck back here before you freeze to death!"

Michael. The voice you've known since elementary. He sounds as scared and confused as her. You look to your right, but you can't see anything through the storm.

>Keep heading to the light
>Head towards the voices

>>4297974
>>Head towards the voices

>>4297974
Scream back at them and see how they respond.

>>4297984
Support

>>4297984
>>4298022
You turn to the voices.

"Guys, I can't see anything! Where the hell are you?"

The reply comes back, but they seem more distant this time.

"We can't hear you, dude! Where the hell are going, you're headed towards the lake!" Michael's voice, thick and Southern.

"Follow our voice, get back here! The storm's buryin...."

Lulu's voice, but she's even more distant.

>Follow their voices
>Keep heading to the light

>>4298092
>>Follow their voices

>>4298092
>Follow their voices

>>4298116
>>4298141
You push your feet through the snow, shifting your direction to the right. You start heading towards the voices. You still can't see anything, and the light you were once headed towards no longer gives you any illumination. You push forward.

"Yeah, keep going!" Michael's voice.

"Don't look back, just keep going forward!" Lulu's. The snow is getting thicker and thicker, and it comes up to your calves now. You brace one hand out, shielding your now-numb face, and keep pushing.

"Almost there, man, keep going!" Anna's. Loud. You're close, but the wind and the snow are pushing against you now, seeming to have shifted direction entirely. You grit your teeth, and push and push.

"Come on! Get over here!" Multiple voices. All of them. At once. And before you can even react, you fall forward.

A clearing. You're in a clearing. No, you realize. Not a clearing. There's still snow at your feet- but there's no storm here. Behind you, and at your sides, the storm still rages- but right where you are, and for some ways in front, the storm is clear. There's no storm here whatsoever, as if unseen walls keep it at bay. It's insane, unnatural, impossible- but you've stopped freezing to death in here.

In front of you, a little ways off, you can only make out one form. A tree. Not a pine, a low one, with branches shooting off in every direction.

And every branch is dead.

>Seek shelter in the tree
>Go back into the storm
>Stay in-place
>Write-in

>>4298245
>Go back into the storm
We fucked up turn back

>>4298280
This is WRONG. This isn't natural, and more importantly, it can't be safe. You need to leave, now. Even the chance of freezing to death is better than staying in this place. You turn back, looking into the storm. You see white...

...and black. A figure, standing some ways off, standing in the very thick of the snowstorm, just before your eyeline drops off. Human. Female.

"Bauldino, where are you going? It's cold out here. Stay inside." Marianne's voice. She sounds calm, calmer than anything you've ever heard. Her voice is intoxicating, and you feel warmth pass through you.

But the figure still stands. And she's tall, taller than you remember Marianne being, taller than Anna, or Lulu, or the guys. And her head is tilted to the side, almost crooked.

And its arms. Skinny. Out at her sides. Long. Longer than any arms you've ever seen.

"Stay here, Bauldino. Come to me."

>Go to her
>Run for the tree
>Stay in-place
>Try to run past her
>Write-in

>>4298302
>Try to run past her

>>4298302
>Try to run past her
RIP

>>4298329
>>4298450

Fuck it. You can't stay here. You need to leave, no matter what. You swallow, gritting your teeth and steeling your nerves, and push into the snow in a run.

You've barely taken two steps and you're knee deep in snow, and the cold freezes you to your core. You're not running, you're just struggling to even move forward as snow buffets your eyes. You keep struggling, managing a few more steps...

And then she's moving. Towards you. Slowly, with no effort or resistance whatsoever. Getting closer, and closer, and closer...

And bigger. Somehow, she seems to be getting bigger.

>Keep going through the snow (Roll 1d20)
>Run back to the tree (1d20)
>Try to talk to her (Write-In)
>Let her come to you
>Write-in

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>4298460
>Keep going through the snow (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>4298460
>Keep going through the snow (Roll 1d20)

Get away from me freak

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>4298460
>>Keep going through the snow (Roll 1d20)

>>4298489
>>4298507
>>4298516
You summon every reserve of strength in you in a last-ditch attempt to run. Pushing through the snow, leg after leg, huffing and then panting with fear and adrenaline. You get one step, and then another, and then another, not caring whether or not your face freezes apart. You just need to LEAVE, get to the cabin-

-You need to be home. Home with your mom, your dad, your abuela. Away from here. Just away from here. Please.

You up as you keep moving, and the figure is no longer coming towards you- it's nowhere at all, in fact. You just see the white around you, in every direction-

-And the light. Brighter than it was last time. The brightest, shiniest, most wonderful thing you've ever seen in your entire life. The outline of the cabin.

You manage another step before the shadow comes from behind you.

------------------------------------------

(POV SWITCH, Player's choice)

>Lulu (Last seen headed upstairs to the hot tub)
>Michael (Last seen in the hot tub)
>Anna (Last seen watching a movie with James)
>James (Last seen watching a movie with Anna)
>Marianne (Last seen locked in the bathroom, vomiting her guts out)

>>4298604

>POV switch, Marianne

>>4298604
>POV Marianne

>>4298604
>Lulu (Last seen headed upstairs to the hot tub)
How longs the pov switch?

>>4298604
>>James (Last seen watching a movie with Anna)

>>4298604
>Michael (Last seen in the hot tub)

>>4299188
(Not long)

>>4298852
>>4298854

----------------------------------Marianne--------------------

You stopped throwing up half an hour ago, but you can't stop your head from spinning. You lift yourself from the rim of the toilet bowl, and sit up. Vomit and drool stain your chin, and you feel like you want to lay back and die.

You should have stopped at the first shot. But he was so nice, and sweet, and kind, and the two of you were having so much fun. And you trusted him. And you wanted to trust him.

And then he moved in for a kiss, and you felt the need to void all the shots he'd poured into you.

Whatever. Right now you want to sleep and forget all of this.

>fall asleep on the bathroom floor
>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>4299349
>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>4299349
>>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>4299349
>>Get up and try to go to your room
Pretty sure it's a sin to sleep on a bathroom floor? Think it was in Genesis

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>4299349
>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

>>4299349
>fall asleep on the bathroom floor

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>4299349
>>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>4299349
>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>4299349
>>Get up and try to go to your room (Roll 1d20)

OP? Still here?

>>4300772
Yeah, just been having insomnia issues, don't wanna type and have it come out all fucked up

>>4300823
No problem OP. Take it easy my dude.

QM what's your status?

F

OP? Dead?

Bump