“No... no please! NyAAAAAAAAAAAAHHG-”You jerk upright to the sound of a woman being torn apart, almost losing your cap in the process. A string of drool drips from the corner of your mouth into the growing puddle on your desk's keyboard and the sterile tile floor below it. Shaking the sleep from your tired eyes, you glance around trying to ascertain the source of the blood-curdling shriek.The answer appears on the smudged computer monitor in front of you in the pixelated form of a woman, blood pouring out of several gaping wounds like rain from a drainpipe. As you watch, spellbound, her movements slow and the very color from the footage fades. As she lets out one final death rattle, everything goes dark. For a moment, all is silent--even your breathing slows in reverence. Then, from the tarry blackness of the screen come letters... Then words.
>>4544986"Game Over".You blink once, then again for good measure as your senses return to you. As you wipe the drool from your face onto your stained coveralls, you slowly regain awareness of where you are. The dim glow of the fluorescent light above you stings your eyes, and the faint scent of lukewarm coffee tickles your nostrils, drawing you to the cheap Dixie cup next to the computer you're sitting at. "For security use ONLY!" warns a faded Post-It Note barely clinging to the monitor's corner. A faint smirk forms on the corner of your mouth. Maybe one day you'll listen. Not bothering to conceal a yawn, you close the game and return to the sterile blue desktop where the company mascot, Good Boy, shoots you a knowing wink, a dog bone clenched between his teeth. The clock in the lower right sits at 2:43am, reminding you that there are several hours left of your shift left.In a futile attempt to distract yourself, your eyes scan the cramped security room like they have every day since... Well... Since a while, you think. You can't remember how long you've worked here off the top of your head, but some things just tend to feel timeless, especially when boredom sets in. You've memorized everything by now, but here you are again, scanning the room.
>>4544988There's the sign-in sheet for the room--of course--but you've never used it. The chicken scratch that passed for security guard handwriting extended from top to bottom of the sheet, almost giving you the impression that someone else was here at night. The Good Boy clock remained in the corner, eyes and tail wagging back and forth like some freakish metronome. The clock itself sat tilted slightly off-kilter--at this point it would feel out of place to straighten it. Lastly, there was the corkboard near the door--its surface almost completely covered with memos, notes, union posters, and anything else they could fit on it. None of them stand out anymore, of course, save for the one your eyes have never failed to miss each time you look at it:>Remember, actions are determined by the best of 3 1d100 rolls! Some actions will have specific DCs to clear, so bring your lucky dice! Also remember that these rules are subject to change. ~Mgmt.You still don't really understand what it means, but somehow that notice always feels important to you. But who cares? You've seen this crap already! Nodding your head back and forth a few times to knock some sleepiness off, you notice your ID Badge lying face down under the desk. Must have dropped when you er... Rested your eyes for a moment. Your spine cracks in protest as you bend over for the first time in what must have been at least an hour. Fishing the ID off of the ground, you take a moment to wipe the dust and grime from the floor off of it and briefly regard the info on the card.According to your company ID, your name is:>Write-InAnd your picture shows a slightly more awake photo of:>A boy>A girlMost importantly, your job title sits like a king in bold letters at the top of the card: >Evening Sanitation CoordinatorA.K.A 'night janitor'. Naturally, ESC sound much more impressive on a resume.
>>4544991>Stanley Parble>A boy
>>4544991>Stanley Parble>A girlMix-up at the maternity ward. Parents thought it was hilarious.
>>4544999>>4545006>>4545019The voices have spoken. Writing!
>>4544991You close your eyes and nod to no one in particular, sending a few loose bangs of your short hair closer to your face. Yes… Parble. Stanley Parble. That was it. What began with a simple mix-up in the maternity ward turned into your parent’s cruelest joke. Your parents were never ones to shy away from a prank, legal ramifications notwithstanding. Maybe it was a simple error in the computer, maybe you aren’t blood related to the people who named you named Stanley at all, but whatever the reason, here you are sitting in an office that isn’t yours thinking about a name that probably shouldn’t be yours, wasting time that certainly isn’t yours. C’est La vie. You frown. For a while you tried to steer family friends into calling you “Ly”, a moniker you believed was much more fitting for someone of your gender. You stopped once your classmates, and eventually your father, in a sick attempt to seem like ‘the cool parent’, began calling you “Lytard”. Stanley it was, Stanley it will always be.Not wanting to spend the rest of your shift waxing nostalgic over future therapy discussion material, you take a moment to lean back in your seat, almost tipping over when you remember it’s a swivel chair. Regaining your balance, you generate a mental list of a few things you could do to pass the time.>Search your person for any other goodies>Fiddle around on the security computer>Write-In>Get back to work. Wait, why is this after the write-in option? Are you that lazy?
>>4545075>Fiddle around on the security computer
>>4545087>>4545075You’re already sitting down, why get up now? Trying in vain to avoid the puddle of drool on the keyboard, your attention shifts once more to the computer monitor. In a clear effort to be considered a ‘work computer’, the security terminal’s desktop leaves much to be desired in the way of icons. Only a small group remain--if there are any other features you guess they’re hidden behind proxies or firewalls or whatever they talk about in the movies. In any case, you’ve essentially memorized the features that ARE available. There’s the MeMail App, of course, where you’ve spent many a night invading the privacy of various security guards. As it happens, the last guard on duty seemed to have forgotten to log off.Not to be outdone is the web browser, home to the World Wide Web and, most importantly, the game you were playing earlier. Of course, being a security terminal there’s also the PeepO App--a trendy name for the security cameras. Last, but not least, is the shortcut to the command line prompt--usually your go-to when you want to pretend to be a hacker. Over the course of many nights you’ve tried to mess around with it, but the best you did was crashing the Wifi once and accidentally calling the Fire Department. All in all, not a bad set of tools here.You gaze on the apps like a child outside a candy store window. Surely there’s something to be done instead of your actual job?>Read the guard’s email>Surf the web (Write-In what you’re looking for)>Check the cameras>Mess with the command prompt>Write-In
>>4545152>Read the guard’s email
>>4545152>Skim the emails, if you find anything interesting, print it, then go do some cleaning while reading it.
>>4545158>>4545176Once upon a time you must have had some qualms about invading someone’s privacy and basic human empathy, but being a janit-err, Evening Sanitation Coordinator, has transformed you. Not to mention you’re basically alone in this whole building. You think.In a surprising act of forethought, you decide on not just reading your coworker’s emails, but printing and THEN reading them as you get to work. Part of you realizes that this might invite some retaliation if anyone finds printed evidence that you spied on them, but this danger is quickly dismissed by the fact that you’ll be able to work AND read at the same time. If you had a calculator and you plugged in those numbers, you’d be getting a smiley face.Unfortunately for the voyeurs, the guard has a surprising lack of emails in his inbox. Most likely to avoid leaking information to corporate spies, nosey journalists, or bored Evening Sanitation Coordinators. On the bright side, you’ll be saving trees by not printing as many emails. Several tense minutes later (and a few whacks to the printer) you emerge from the security room with a fresh stack of warm papers. The printed materials feel reassuring as you emerge into one of the building’s cold, spartan hallways and continue to do so as you make your way to your office, whistling as you go. You shuffle the papers in chronological order and start with the oldest.>Contd.
>>4545202>”From: IT>To: GBDB Staff>Subject: Signal Issues>To all staff, >First of all, don’t worry: the help ticket system still works. No need to submit multiple requests with the same problem. Second, we are aware of the issues with the wifi in the factory and admin offices--unfortunately it may have something to do with the new paint on the walls--turns out lead and wifi don’t cooperate very well. In any case, we’re working on a fix, so please stop spamming our request system. We know what you’re mainly using company wifi for and that stuff can wait until after office hours. On an unrelated note, deleting browser history doesn’t remove your search history from our logs. Nice try though.”>”From: DBaxter>To: MDiaz>Subject: Security>Hey man, need a favor. Blumenkrantz has been on my back about making sure the security room door is locked after shifts. If I don’t tell you when we switch off tonight, remember to LOCK THE SECURITY ROOM BEFORE LEAVING. A few days ago I checked my mail and home and about five of my emails were marked ‘read’ when I never looked at them. Please remember to lock the door, man. If you forget that, then PLEASE don’t forget to at least LOG OUT. And if the person reading people’s emails is reading this, stop immediately--my uncle works for Cyber Police and will track your ass down faster than you can say ‘Black Hat’.If this is still Marco reading this, ignore the above line. Unless you are the one reading people’s emails.”
>>4545226Look, I have no idea when this is set, but since blackhats are a concept, make a note of this, worker's health and safety laws should let us sue this place for a bundle. Also, stop procrastinating and at least clean the breakrooms.
>>4545237Noted! Always good to have a golden parachute ready.>>4545226Whoops, format error.“From: KBlumenkrantz>To: Security Staff>Subject: TERROR ALERT>ATTENTION SECURITY PERSONNEL. THIS IS SECURITY CHIEF BLUMENKRANTZ. AS YOU KNOW A LOT OF CUSTOMERS HAVE BEEN BITCHING ON TWITTER EVEN AFTER WE SWITCHED THE DOG BONE FORMULA FROM SYNTHETIC MATERIALS TO ORGANIC LIBERAL CRAP. IN ANY CASE, SOME PEOPLE MIGHT NOT HAVE GOTTEN THE MEMO AND WILL TRY TO FIREBOMB THE FACTORY. PLEASE BE ALERT FOR PEOPLE RUNNING AROUND IN HOODIES TRYING TO LIGHT THINGS ON FIRE. MANAGEMENT SAYS TO OBSERVE AND REPORT BUT IF YOU TAKE A SHOT AT ONE OF THEM I MIGHT FORGET TO WRITE A REPORT. CHRISTY EMAIL ME AND TELL ME HOW TO PUT A PICTURE OF SOMEONE WINKING HERE.ALSO CHRISTY MY KEYBOARD IS STUCK MAKING BIG LETTERS. EMAIL ME BACK TELLING ME HOW TO STOP THE BIG LETTERS.GOODBYE.”>From: BMarshall>To: MDiaz>Subject: RE: Stinks like shit>Good evening, Mr. Diaz--sorry to hear your shift didn’t go too well today. I believe the stench you are referring to came from the refuse disposal in the main factory--it’s been getting clogged more easily lately, but maintenance and sanitation will hopefully have it taken care of by your next shift. Thanks again for keeping us in the loop, we value your work here at Good Boy Doggy Bones.”You blink. Right, that was definitely on your To-Do list today. By the time you reach the door to your office, you begin to notice just how quiet it’s been all night. Even the machines seem to be working softer than usual. Could this be the power of organic materials? Probably not. Stuffing the printed emails into your coverall pockets, you open the door to your office and finally prepare to get to work.
>>4545249You enter your office and grin as the cold, loveless air of the hallways is replaced by the warm, humid, and cleaning product-laced atmosphere of YOUR Queendom: the custodial closet. There might have been a time where the cement walls and the difficulty breathing might have bothered you, but now it almost feels more like home than, well, your home. Some part of you feels wrong thinking that, but that part is quickly squelched with the other bad emotions as you slump into your chair and kick your feet up on your desk. They ain’t comfy, but they’re yours, damn it.Satisfied with reading emails for now, you finally resolve to get some work done. With newfound determination, you fish your company-provided BLACKBERRY from your pocket and navigate to your To-Do List for the night. You already finished with the admin offices and the lobby earlier, so you cross those off with a flourish. The remaining list contains the following items:>Dispose marked trash bags in Refuse Disposal>Vacuum and sweep Bone Processing Floors>Hose down Shipping/Receiving Area.You stroke an imaginary beard pondering what task to do next. Each one will require different tools, of course, but you’ll get them all done. Eventually.>What task will you perform first?
>>4545302>Bone ProcessingAlso, I say we do Hose last since it might get us wet, and this job is crappy enough without having to peel off our clothes every cou0ple of seconds.
>>4545302>Vacuum and sweep Bone Processing Floorsis this the same bone autism QM before?
>>4545328>>4545373Nope, entirely new QM--this is my first try at running a quest, so any feedback is appreciated!Also, writing. This will be my last update for the night, but I'll check in tomorrow. Thanks for giving Bone Quest a shot!
>>4545328>>4545373You trace an invisible circle around the vacuuming task on your company-provided BLACKBERRY. Cleaning up the Bone Processing wing of the factory was not easy, but if you started now you can at least tell your supervisor you worked on it. It’s bone dust in a dog bone factory, after all--it’s like trying to vacuum the ocean. Worst case scenario you could wash the residual bone dust off when you hosed down Shipping later.Rising to your feet once more, you yank the doors to your tool locker open and dodge the flakes of rusty metal and paint that escape. Like an action hero suiting up for the big fight scene, you grab your spray bottle (filled to the brim with cleaning solution), your trusty mop and microbucket, and most importantly--your Backuum Cleaner 2000--dirt’s worst nightmare and the world’s only back-mounted vacuum cleaner (patent pending). Mounting the latter on your back and the former items on your toolbelt, you kick the door to your office open and make way for the Bone Processing factory floor. You know the route to the factory floor like the back of your hand, which is why you barely notice something off on your way there. Halfway through another rousing rendition of “Stanley’s Whistled Song #24”, you notice the flickering of a hallway lamp out of the corner of your eye. You turn around to focus on the light, but even after a whole minute of intense staring, the light refuses to flicker again. You turn around and resume whistling just in time to catch not one, not two, but every light in the hallway flicker off for a second, maybe less. You pause for a moment, making a mental note to take a look at them all. Eventually. For now there’s still vacuuming to be done, and there’s only one ESC tough enough for the job. That’s what you keep telling yourself, anyways.>Cont.
>>4545419You can smell Bone Processing long before you can see it. Not too long ago this area smelled… Well, it still smelled pretty bad. With that transition to organic materials, though… Well, let’s just say it’s a smell you have to get used to. For the record, no, you haven’t gotten used to it yet. Thankfully a few squirts of cleaning solution numbs your nose right up. You take your bottle and squirt it a few times in the air to get started. Moving away before too many particles land on your uncovered skin, you briefly survey the factory area.A co-worker of yours explained it to you once over a few beers--you don’t remember much, but what you do remember were the 3 Steps of Bone Processing: CarvingBleachingBakingYou might have been cheating though--each segment of the factory line was labeled with each step, as if the workers could forget. The machines did most of the work, of course--bones were carved using ultra-sharp automatic stencils into classic ‘dog bone’ shapes, then came the chemical bleaching, and finally the heat--the part that dried the chemical film and gave the bones that tasty ‘bone flavor’, or so the training videos said. Walking along the highway-sized conveyor belts, you take a moment to run your gloved fingers over the bones. You can recognize a few just from looking at them. Deer bones, moose bones, alligator bones, the works. You never really thought much about the connotations of ‘organic’ bones vs. the old material, but you can’t help but feel a little excited seeing all sorts of animals here. It’s almost like a zoo, you tell yourself, if someone killed all the animals. During the evening the machines take a break, but tomorrow they’ll be running full speed, or so you’ve heard. Hopefully you’ll be asleep by then. Speaking of sleep, all of these thoughts about stuff you already know are making you tired. Time to get some stuff done. You’ve done this task so many times you barely even have to think about it anymore, but the one question you DO have to ask is: how thorough do you want to be here?>Screw it, this dust will be back again tomorrow. Let’s rush. >Haste makes waste--let’s take some time.>LET NO GRAIN OF DUST ESCAPE MY EYE. THE RECKONING HAS COME.>Write-In Technique
>>4545443>Haste makes waste--let’s take some time.I guess try to focus on the most visible areas so that it looks like we've cleaned more than we really have
>>4545503+1, also, what type of company is this? Dog Food for Rich people?
>>4545519I think they just make fancy style dog bone treats/toys for chewing/gnawing out of actual bones?
Hey, we're back!>>4545519Your casual invasion of email privacy and your photographic memory of the plaques and displays in the lobby tell you all you need to know about Good Boy Doggie Bones. Established in 1954 by Sonny Bruckman Sr., Good Boy Doggie Bones was a leader in post-war pet food and toy innovations. Their claim to fame, of course, was their signature Good Boy Doggie Bone--a favorite among pet owners and canines for years until testing revealed a quote, “sizable amount of lead” in the formula. The company got away with a slap on the wrist and spent the next few years experimenting with newer, better dog bone formulas. In latest news (according to what you heard through company emails), Good Boy has shifted to a more organic formula in the past few months to appease the social media masses. Your comprehension of market research is middling, at best, so you’re not sure how effective this new formula has been among customers or dogs. You certainly haven’t tried the product either, no sir. Not even a nibble when bored!Also, writing.
>>4545503>>4545519There’s an old saying among Evening Sanitation Coordinators: if they can’t see it, it’s clean. That being said, you know better than to rush the vacuuming--people talk when the factory floor looks clean, and you’ll be damned if your counterpart, Boris, gets all the credit this time. You walk across the factory floor towards the back end where the BONE BAKING happens. To the uninitiated, the obvious place to start would be the CARVING area, especially when the majority of bone dust congregates there. However, professionals know that that area will always be dusty--trying to keep it clean even after work hours is a Sisyphean Task, to say the least. No, the gold is in the other sections, and that’s where you’re going to start.As you approach your habitual ‘starting area’, you duck under a few conveyor belts, suppressing the urge to turn them on and go for a ride. They don’t even move that fast anyways and you don’t need another ‘Work Conduct’ meeting with HR. It’s at that moment you notice that despite the belts being large enough to hold a covered wagon, a veritable grab bag of bones managed to fall off of the edge of a belt and now sit on the floor as if challenging you to move them.With a huff, you lower your mop to the ground and use your now free hands to scoop up the bone pile. You deposit them onto a section of the belt closer to your height, then hastily brush the dust from your gloved hands. Part of you could have sworn you saw a skull or two in the pile, but you quickly dismiss the idea. “Animals have skulls,” you say to no one in particular, “and bones are our business.”A layer of bone dust has already caked your rubber boots and coverall legs by the time you reach your usual starting spot. Once upon a time you might not have relished the idea of being covered in dead animals, but nowadays it’s about as normal as brushing your teeth in the morning or putting on a hat.You reach behind you and grasp the nozzle of the BACKUUM CLEANER 2000 (patent pending). The nozzle feels at home in your hands like a cowboy’s revolver or a teacher’s red pen. You briefly scan the baking section’s floor--at this point it’s not a question of IF you’ll get this cleaned up, but how LONG it will take. You take a moment to spray a bit more cleaning solution in the air, one of your many rituals, bend your knees, and flick the power switch on your backuum. The words on the security room corkboard echo in the far recesses of your mind…>Remember, actions are determined by the best of 3 1d100 rolls! Some actions will have specific DCs to clear, so bring your lucky dice! Also remember that these rules are subject to change. ~Mgmt.The true meaning remains an enigma to you, but what you do know for certain is, THIS is one of those times.>Let’s see some 1d100s!
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4546117
Rolled 16 (1d100)>>4546117
Rolled 74 (1d100)>>4546117
Sorry, ran an impromptu errand! >>4546123>>4546135>>4546190Alright, starting things off with some good rolls, I see.For the record, higher is better.Writing...
>>4546123>>4546135>>4546190>Best roll: 16. Ouch.You’ve done this a million times before. For all you know that might not even be an exaggeration. How many hours are in a week again? A month? Seven times forty, carry the… Nope, forget it. You CLEAN, not COMPUTE. You leave that kind of stuff to the eggheads in the labs.Speaking of calculations, what are the odds that upon turning on your BACKUUM CLEANER 2000 that you’d immediately vacuum your hat and a large chunk of your hair? What about the odds of getting them both out while also choking on BONE DUST? Pretty slim, you bet, but you’re just that lucky. It takes you several minutes of tugging and swearing to get your hair out of the vacuum in between coughing fits, and even more to remove your cap which somehow got clogged in between where the hose connects and the actual pack. Even worse, by the time you get started vacuuming, the engine in the pack begins to make a loud noise not unlike a cow being crushed under a steamroller. You’ve worked in the sanitation biz long enough to know two things: First: Something is messing with the engine, and Second: it’s probably the bone dust. Weird, too--it’s not usually this thick and gummy.After what feels like an eternity of vacuuming, the factory floor finally approaches what some generous minds would refer to as ‘clean’. Well, clean-ISH. You lean on your mop for a moment to catch your breath and fan your face with your crumpled cap. As you feel yourself begin to cool down, you finally register the heavy pattering of rain on the roof and the rumble of thunder outside. How long have you been vacuuming, anyways? How are you getting home? You begin to weigh the pros and cons of the bus when a roll of thunder shakes the factory floor like a boat in a storm. Before you can find your footing, all of the lights, work and emergency, go out.You stand in the blackness for what feels like an eternity. When the lights finally turn back on you sigh. Until, that is, you realize they aren’t the only things that reactivated.Consoles, conveyor belts, alarms, and gizmos all over the factory floor’s three sections scream to life. Cutters hiss to life like metal cobras, and the chemical vats bubble and glow with activity. The bones remain where they are, of course--on the conveyor belts clearly moving faster than they should be. Like grim waterfalls the heaps of bones topple over the sides of the belts and stations overflow with animal remains. The painfully bright fluorescent lights are overpowered by alarm lights that bathe the whole factory in a crimson hue. As if things couldn’t get any worse, all of the activity swept up the remaining bone dust into the air like a whirling dervish, hurling it onto machines, walls, and you.So… What shall we do, Ms. Evening Sanitation Coordinator?>Try to shut off the conveyor belts!>Try to shut off the machines somehow!>Get outta here and call someone!>Write-In
>>4546364>Try to shut off the machines somehow!
>>4546381>>4546495Let's see what we can do about that. Writing!
>>4546381>>4546495As panic begins to set in, an idea forms in your brain--shut off the machines. Easy for you to say, brain--But how? In a surprising display of memory, your thoughts drift from the rapidly-decaying factory situation to one of your first few days as an employee of Good Boy. Wow, look how happy you looked! And so much healthier. Did you gain some weight? Alright, focus. You and a few other coworkers were watching a work safety video--the narrator was none other than Good Boy himself--in animated form, of course. It was just after the important part where he discussed…Um…Well maybe it wasn’t that important. In any case, you remember his NEXT words like they were yesterday.>”... And THAT’s why you should go for a check-up EVERY week! Phew, what a mouthful! That’s not all, Good Boygineers! In the event of a catastrophic glitch or malfunction in one or more of the factory machines, there are emergency override buttons next to the Fire Exit doors in each factory section: CARVING, BLEACHING, and BAKING! That might seem a bit far, but no need to be a track star! Safety Regulations ensure that you will never be alone in the building, ever! Even if you’re a Sanitation Coordinator! So remember to BONE up on this knowledge--it could save your life! Now let’s talk about harassment in the workpl-”Your train of thought is derailed by a flying clavicle hitting you square in the nose--heavy, too--must have belonged to a rhino or something. Rubbing the pain away from your nose, you fully adjust to the current situation again. Right, the catastrophic glitch or malfunction in one or more of the factory machines.Straining your eyes against the dull emergency lighting and the growing density of bone dust in the air, you manage to locate the closest emergency exit. Turns out they have bright ‘EMERGENCY EXIT’ signs above them--go figure. The veritable MAZE of conveyor belts and machinery in the BAKING section makes it difficult, but when you bend a bit you can almost see the glow of the emergency exit off in the BLEACHING section. Yea, you’ve got this.You take a moment to stretch your legs--time is clearly of the essence here. You’re going to need stamina to run to the switches and the eyes of a hawk to find the best route to the next switch. Your brain quickly gives you a few hasty options:>Screw safety--go fast and use some of that parkour you learned from MeTube! >It might take more time, but you don’t want to get hurt. Play it smart. >Write-In >Rolls will come after we decide on a method.
>>4546564>Screw safety--go fast and use some of that parkour you learned from MeTube!
>>4546580>>4546586Hope there are no police around, because you're about to SPEED. You don't have time to be safe here--if the sounds the machines and conveyor belts are making are any indication, you're going to be a LOT worse off if you don't turn them off soon.>Taking 3 1d100 rolls! Let's see how Stanley does!
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4546594
Rolled 54 (1d100)>>4546594
>>4546672You can always roll the third d100 if need be, OP.
>>4546686Yea, probably going to do that in the future to keep the ball rolling. Here's the first part of the LAST update for tonight!>>4546600>>4546621>54: Not great. The quicker option had a higher DC, too.Time slows to a crawl. Like an arrow leaving the bow you bolt--beginning with two powerful strides, then a leap to a nearby conveyor belt. You don’t even need to look and see if you made it--you did. Boot hits belt, boot hits bone, boot hits more bone--up, down, up. It comes as naturally to you as flying does to an eagle. An American eagle. Oh yea.Time continues to dilate as you reach the end of the belt and push off with one leg--your muscles and bones working in tandem like fleshy pistons. Then… Weightlessness. For a moment you soar through the air. You feel bone particles brush against your face, your hair and cap tussle in the air, your toes catching the side of the belt, the rush of adrenaline running through you-wait. Back up.Unfortunately you aren’t in control anymore. Time refuses to speed up--it wants you to see this. Damn you, time, you think to yourself. Time, of course, doesn’t listen. And neither do your limbs. You flail in slow-motion as your foot bumps against the side of the conveyor, sending you tumbling onto the speeding belt with the rest of the bones. Fortunately your face is spared the brunt of the impact--that honor belongs to your abdomen, whose landing is cushioned by soft, cushy animal bones. Oh wait.As you feel the wind get knocked out of you, your gasps for air send you rolling over the side of the belt, delivering you with a THUMP onto your side and a smaller, albeit STILL painful pile of bones. Time resumes its normal speed and you take a moment to lie there, taking in the last few painful seconds. As you stare upwards, simmering in self-loathing, you notice that by falling off of the belt you not only deposited yourself closer to the BAKING area’s emergency exit, but also narrowly avoided a trip into one of the factory’s titular ‘BAKERS’ which, by the way, are starting to cook not just the bones, but the belts themselves. Lucky you?>Contd.
>>4546692Resolving to enroll in a parkour class once this is all taken care of and you miraculously manage to keep your job, you scramble to your feet and hobble with a purpose to the emergency exit. Like the training video said, next to the door sits a comically large red button marked EMERGENCY SHUT DOWN. No more shenanigans--you smash it with your fist and sigh as the chaos in the baking area slows to an abrupt and anti-climactic halt. Well, aside from the piles of burnt bones. And the burnt machines. And the burning conveyor belts. None of that matters to you, however. No, what matters is the small spark you catch out of the corner of your eye. The one that leisurely floats like a bubble and grows into a crescendo of arcing, crackling electricity above the factory floor--that and the bones rising from the piles strewn about the factory into the air like grim balloons.The award, in your opinion, has to go to what you see next. With a crack of thunder and lightning, a shape begins to form in the middle of the light show. A shape that, when more and more bones and pieces of machinery, conveyor belt, and burner come together, reminds you of something human. The final product, you find, is probably not that. You can’t blame yourself for not noticing earlier--it’s like finding needles in a haystack after all--but while the many limbs of the floating figure appear to be made from the animal bones strewn about the factory, the crowning piece, the star on the proverbial ‘Christmas Tree’ is undoubtedly a weathered, sneering human skull. >Cont.
>>4546728As the remaining electricity escapes towards the ceiling, the figure stays motionless, floating in place like a cheap Halloween prop. A deafening ‘SNAP’ dominates the factory as the figure cracks it’s neck. Once to the left, once to the right. With that, the machines, the alarms, and all of the chaos screeches to a halt. For a second you think your heart will too, but it can’t. You’re too terrified.The figure doesn’t seem to notice you, or maybe it doesn’t care. It swings its various animal limbs in the air a few times, adopting a look of grim satisfaction. A slow rumbling starts to emanate from its chest, and the figure throws its skull back and lets out a booming, maniacal cackle. Raising its arms to the ceiling in triumph, the amalgamation of machine, animal, and human parts lets out a vicious, albeit much higher-pitched battle cry than you expected: >“AFTER THOUSANDS OF YEARS, TIBIUS MAXIMUS… IS ‘BONE’ AGAIIIIIIN!”You don't know how he noticed you. Maybe you laughed, maybe you shifted around on the floor. Maybe he knew you were there from the beginning. Things just don’t seem as amusing anymore when the figure’s two fiery glowing eyes settle in your direction.“You…” the figure says, taking its time to study you, “Are lucky, mortal.” You begin to lose your grip on the floor and slowly realize you’re floating. You’d be excited if you weren’t… Well, you know. The figure draws you closer like an angler reeling in a fish. You struggle to move your arms, avert your gaze, ANYTHING, but an invisible force clamps around you like a chain. The brings you closer and closer until you can’t help but peer into the burning orbs sitting in his eye sockets. “You… Will be my first thrall…” You can’t look away anymore.“The first… Of many!” You feel one of his many fingers graze the back of your neck.“Today… This place…” Boney fingers close one by one onto each vertebra.“To’MARROW’...You feel a surge of heat.“THE WOOOOOOOOOORRRLLLD!!!” With that, your senses go black. Your sight. Your hearing. Your smell. Taste… And touch.Your thoughts are the last thing to go. >What are your last thoughts?
>>4546729>Will we find out what's going on?>Will rolls become better?>Will Stanley be okay?>All of these questions, and more, will probably NOT be answered tomorrow! Until then, though, STAY TUNED and thanks for joining! Hopefully I will see you tomorrow.
>>4546729Was the game rigged from the start?
>>4546729"I really hope this isn't as bad as it actually seems."
>>4546796>BETHESDA SOFTWORKS PRESENTSWhoops, wrong reel.>>4546796As everything goes dark, your final thoughts linger on what lead you to this peculiar turn of events. Was there anything you could have done differently? Were you doomed the minute you decided to vacuum, or were things set in stone from the moment you first put on your ESC Cap? Was it meant to happen to you specifically, or were you merely in the wrong place at the wrong time? Why a skeleton, of all things?Whatever it was, you can safely assume that fate, if it exists, screwed the proverbial pooch. You can’t even die right--here you are on your presumably LAST thoughts and all you can feel is a sensation akin to lying in a river, ears underwater and muffled by the water. You can’t see, hear, feel, or move, but you don’t seem to be having any trouble thinking. Is this death? Kind of a raw deal.>>4547078You can’t remember which stage of dying it is, but as long as you have the time, you might as well keep on thinking. Maybe, you think (since that’s all you CAN do), things aren’t that bad. Maybe this is temporary and you’ll wake up in the security room. Maybe someone will rescue you and you’ll be a hero for… Well. You’ll have to think about that. Maybe there isn’t a deranged skeleton on the loose thanks to you. Maybe you’re not circling the drain of mortality and you’re actually fine! That’s a lot of maybes, Stanley. And a lot of wishful thinking.>>4546995Oh, now you remember. Stage 3 is anger. You can’t remember what stage you were on before, but you certainly are starting to feel anger right now. I mean, come on! You did your job! You had some decent friends! Sure, you didn’t reach out as much as you could have, but that’s what the internet is for, right? You were still working on the relationship thing, but you can’t rush love, right? You had so many things planned, too! You were going to go to college to become… Something! You had time to think about it! And now here you are, floating down a river of consciousness waiting for something, ANYthing to happen. That boney prick didn’t even let you die, really! Unless he did, in which case death is boring as hell! >Cont.
>>4547634Something stirs in your consciousness. Like someone connecting two live wires in the deep recesses of your mind. You feel a growing sense of disdain and anger--they aren’t much, but they’re feelings, right? Something holding you snaps, and like an orchestral crescendo your senses return!You feel yourself rising, cold air on your cheeks, the smell of factory-grade cleaning materials, and most importantly--the sound of your voice escaping through your open mouth.“FUCK”The sudden use of your lungs winds you--causing you to double over coughing and wheezing from the strain. It felt like the first time using them. As your coughing fit subsides, your eyes focus the fuzz of the room into an actual picture--you seem to be in a storage locker of sorts, maybe one of the ones in Shipping and Receiving. Your deductions are interrupted by a scratchy, unfamiliar voice from beyond a set of crude metal doors in front of you.“Keep it down in there, fleshbag, or we’ll shut you up!”You blink a few times. As if expecting an answer, the unmistakable shape of an alligator--or maybe a crocodile--’s skull peers through the bars near the top of the doors--its empty eye sockets regarding you with what almost looks like… Annoyance?“You hear me, meatsack?”“Calm down, Al--it heard what you said.”Another skull joins the alligator. You’re guessing some sort of jungle cat.“Besides, what’s she going to do anyways? BREATHE the walls away?”The crocodile’s jaw clacks up and down with laughter.“Oooh, or maybe it will use its DIGESTIVE SYSTEM!Before you can flick a snappy response their way, another voice whispers in your ear.“Take it easy, pal--we’ve got em’ right where we want them! Just do your thing with the ‘multiple options’ and we’ll blow this joint!”On instinct you glance around the room, trying to locate the whisperer, but aside from a shelf, two crates, and a cobweb, the storage unit is empty.Welcome back, Stan! Looks like you’ve gone crazy.>What will you do? Choose one or more of the following.>Talk to your captors.>Check your person for injuries and belongings. Didn’t you DIE?>Try to speak to your whisperer.>Write-In
>>4547640The skulls probably won't give us much information. Let's talk to our whispering pal, and ask him what's going on.
>>4547640>>Check your person for injuries and belongings. Didn’t you DIE?>>Try to speak to your whisperer.
>>4547669>>4547686Self care and making friends, got it! Writing.
>>4547669>>4547686You ignore your captors for the moment--something tells you they aren’t just going to let you out for good behavior. Moreover, whoever is whispering to you didn’t seem to have any trouble doing it just now, so they can wait. You’ve got more important things to consider.For instance, didn’t you DIE? You can’t say you’ve had much experience with near-death experiences, aside from that one prank your dad pulled in the pool that one Summer. What the hell happened in the factory? Why are you still breathing? Is this Hell?You take a deep breath and examine yourself section by section. Your front, though caked in bone dust, is still more or less intact. A quick peek under your coveralls confirms that you aren’t even bruised--not even from your attempt at Le Parkour. You twiddle your toes and do a few quick stretches with your legs--all systems nominal. Last, you run your gloved hands over your face and down your back, mainly focusing on where the skeleton… You think his name was Tybalt? Where HE grabbed you. Aside from the familiar throbbing pain of a bruise in the making, you don’t feel any different. In fact, you’re bold enough to say that you feel pretty darn good!“QUIET, BLOODBAG!”Whoops, sorry. You feel good. Even better, whoever put you in here left you with all of your belongings, save for the Backuum Cleaner 2000. That’s right--your TELESCOPING MOP, MICROBUCKET, SPRAY BOTTLE, your CAP, and even your KEYS, COMPANY-PROVIDED BLACKBERRY, and CELLPHONE are totally there! Wow, these guys really suck at their jobs! Good thing, too--upon returning to the living you’ve noticed it’s quite chilly in here. Shaking off the shivers, you breathe a sigh of relief. Looks like everything’s okay. Unless, that is, something’s happening to you that you CAN’T tell from a quick once-over.Oh man, now you’ve made yourself worried again.>Contd.
>>4547719In a vague attempt at distracting yourself, you try to get the attention of the whisperer. A short ‘psst’ might do the trick.“Psst”“What can I do for you, girly?”Oh good, that worked.“Oh boy, you look like you’re about to ask me some questions.”Hey, this guy’s pretty sharp. What do you ask him? Choose 1 or more of the following.>Who ARE you? Why can't I see you?>What HAPPENED? How did we get here?>Write-In
>>4547734>What HAPPENED? How did we get here?>Check for signal on phone, if you have an internet connection check the news to see if there are any pertinent headlines.
>>4547740>>4547745Whoever he is, the voice seems a lot more comfortable with the current situation than you are. Taking a seat near the back of the storage unit for some privacy, you ask yourself what happened. Yep, totally sane.The disembodied voice clears its throat and answers as though it was telling a story to an old friend over coffee.“What happened? Well I’ll be honest with ya, cupcake--I don’t totally know myself. I was doing my job as usual, support, when all of a sudden things became a whole lot clearer than I’m used to. I felt you get grabbed by that big guy--think his name was Tim? Anyways, he grabs ya, things get warm, and suddenly I was able to talk! You didn’t seem to be doing so good, though--droolin’ all over the place like a Saint Bernard. Anyways, Tim got angry, I could tell that much. Tossed us onto the ground like a candy wrapper and started grabbing other bones instead.”You shift to a lying down position using your bucket as a pillow, barely stifling a yawn. The whisperer clearly doesn’t notice.“That’s where THOSE guys came from.” You can’t see anyone pointing, but you know who the whisperer is talking about. “Tim started puttin’ bones together like LICO blocks and poof, they came to life, “YESS MASSTERR” and all! That made him pretty happy with himself, so he kept doing that until he had a few more bone buddies made.”You politely interject and ask how MANY he made.“What am I, an accountant? If I had to guess I’d say somewhere between eight and… Hm… A few hundred? He was able to do it real quick with that magic he was using.”You wince.“As I was sayin’, Tim makes a few more pals, then he gives YOU another shot. I tried ta stop him, but… Anyways, things get warm a few more times, but I guess he didn’t get what he wanted, because he tossed us onto the ground again and started yapping to his goons something along the lines of “FIND MORE HUMANS!”You frown. Besides being a potentially dangerous situation, this will definitely not look good on your performance review. >Contd.
>>4547783“Anywho, he had some goons toss us in here, and now we’re finally communicatin’! About time too, because I have a few notes about your current technique--”You shut the voice out of your mind for a moment as a thought forms--what if that thing finds its way into town? Good Boy isn’t exactly remote, and if that skeleton gets to the graveyard or worse, the DAIRY FARMS…You shake the thought out of your head and pull out your phone. As you unlock it you pray to the wifi gods that you have bars--and thankfully your prayers are answered! Your signal isn’t strong, but it’s there! In a series of vibrations your phone comes to life with several notifications--missed phone calls from your supervisor Jerry, texts from your pals Sybil and Gus, and a notice from the Bus app saying your ride home might be delayed. Ignoring them for now, you pop open your Web Browser App and navigate to your local news station’s website. The front page is ablaze with headlines, but a live news feed dominates the page. As you gingerly press your finger onto the link, you steel yourself for the reality of the situation. The site pinwheels. You see the buffer bar load about a pixel every four seconds.“Whatcha watching? You listening to me?”You ignore the voice as the stream finally loads! No wait, it’s an ad. Damn it. Okay, AFTER the shampoo ad (which reminds you, you need to pick up some more conditioner if you survive this), the video loads and your worst fears (well, CURRENT worst fears) are realized. “--ppened only about an hour ago and the situation is getting worse by the minute!” The feed focuses on a disheveled reporter ducking behind a concrete barricade. The sound of gunfire and sirens dominate the background.“The police haven’t released a statement, but you only have to listen behind me to get the full story! Like something out of a cheap movie, Clearwater is being attacked by the living dea--”The feed pauses right before the reporter finishes her sentence. Another ad? No, worse--your display goes dark and the sound cuts out. You mash the power button a few times, but no dice--you KNEW you should have brought your charger tonight! This is what happens when you play games for the whole bus ride!“Ooh, rough. Hey, you hear about those portable chargers? Lifesavers, or so I’ve heard.”Shut up, voice. Shut up so you can focus on not panicking.What do?>Don’t freak out.>Freak out.>Freak out. BIG time.
>>4547814Also while you're at it, what do you do next?>Talk to your guards>Ask your... pal? Another Question (Write-In)>Investigate your cell a bit.>Write-In
>>4547814>Don’t freak out.>Ask your... pal?>What's your name?>Investigate your cell a bit.Here's hoping our new imaginary friend at least sounds hot
>>4547885Keeping cool, I like that. Writing!
>>4547885Okay, take it easy. It’s the news--they blow things out of proportion all the time. Besides, a skeleton army led by an ancient undead wizard can’t be that bad, right?Never mind. Just shove all of those bad emotions in the corner like you usually do. There you go. Atta girl.“You’re taking this whole thing pretty well, ya know that?” The voice croons. Now that you think about it, he almost sounds familiar--there was this movie you watched once. It was about some robbers who all came together for a big heist that went wrong. This guy, whoever he is, sounds like one of those characters. You’d be annoyed by the voice if he didn’t seem to be on your side.Allies, it seems, are in short supply here in the cooler.Which reminds you, you never really asked the voice what his name is.“My name? You wanna know my name? Well it’s about time you asked! I swear, we’ve been together for years and only NOW you’re gonna ask me? No respect…”Yea, sorry. Present issues and all that. You repeat the question.“Yea, you’d better be! Although… Truth be told…”You can almost feel the whisper awkwardly shift. Weird.“I don’t really… Have a name. To be honest this whole ‘being able to talk’ thing started right after Tim grabbed you, so uh… I don’t really have a name.”Hm.>You don’t really need a name--The Voice is working out pretty well for you!>Give me some details and maybe I can come up with one. What do you do? >A name, huh? How about… (Write-In)
>>4547908>Give me some details and maybe I can come up with one. What do you do?
>>4547991You tilt your head to the side and rest your chin on your palm in contemplation. Names, huh? You of all people know the importance of a well-chosen name. You close your eyes to think for a moment, but nope. It just isn’t coming to you.You ask the voice to describe itself a bit more. Sometimes that makes naming things easier!“Describe myself, huh? Sure, I can do that! Geez, where do I start… No one’s really asked me anything like this before…”You shrug and ask the voice what skills it has. What’s its deal?“Deal? Well let’s see… I’ve backed you up since you were a kid… I’d like to think I’m pretty strong even though I don’t work out much…”The voice pauses in between each item as if to give you time to consider each point. You let out a noncommittal huff and motion for the voice to continue.“Well… I’m also pretty flexible! And I help you get around, and create blood cells, and--”“Hold it…” you say. “Are you…”Before you can finish the sentence, your arm extends outwards on its own, then extends a thumb in affirmation.“My skeleton?”“NO!”Your crocodile guard tosses something through the bars, barely missing your head. With an echoing CLANG it tumbles to the ground in the back corner.“Now SHUT. UP!”Your skeleton raises your finger to your mouth in a ‘shushing’ pose. Gotcha.“ANYWAYS” your bones continue, undeterred by airborne projectiles, “I think you get the picture. I’ve also got some good news for you, if you want to hear it.”You agree, of course. Your stocks have been running rather low.“Well, ever since Tim grabbed yo-err, US, I’ve noticed a few uh… Changes. To me. And by extension, you.”Your skeleton tries to talk with his hands, but you wrest control and continue lounging. As you do, a strange thought comes up--why do you have a male skeleton? Ew.“Right, good news! Let me ask you, have you felt odd lately?”You can’t stare incredulously at your skeleton, but you try your best.“Right, dumb question. Gotcha. Well here’s the deal. Whatever that wizard guy did had some sort of side effect.”“The good kind?” You query, your interest piqued.“You betcha, cupcake. You see, I’ve changed a little bit. For the BETTER.>Contd.
>>4548037>And YOU get to decide on what that change is! Choose ONE of the following massive magickal changes to your bones. That's right, it's time to... BONE UP!>BONE UP: STRENGTH--”You probably didn’t notice, but I’ve gotten stronger. Denser. BEEFIER, baby. You’re a little more sluggish, yea, but you can throw and take punches like a pro!”>BONE UP: SPEED--”I know you’re not much of a jogger, but we’re FASTER now. Something happened to our tendons and now we’re quicker than a bullet! I ain’t saying we’re FASTER than a bullet, but we could probably dodge some now!”>BONE UP: STEALTH--”This is a weird one--I’m hollow now. Not like a bird, mind, but BETTER. We’re SNEAKY. We’re LIGHT. We’re quiet, we can jump higher, fall further. Cool, right? On the other hand, we’re a bit more fragile, but who cares if no one can hear us?”
>>4548040>This is a pretty big choice, so I'll leave it and check back in tomorrow. Good luck on the choosing and thanks again for giving BONES QUEST a try!>One last choice to make on top of the big one above:Choose ONE:>Give bones a name (Write-In)>DON'T give bones a name, EVER>WAIT A WHILE before giving bones a name
>>4548040>BONE UP: SPEED--”I know you’re not much of a jogger, but we’re FASTER now. Something happened to our tendons and now we’re quicker than a bullet! I ain’t saying we’re FASTER than a bullet, but we could probably dodge some now!”>Give bones a name (Write-In)Name him Ly. Lol
>>4548040>BONE UP: SPEED--”I know you’re not much of a jogger, but we’re FASTER now. Something happened to our tendons and now we’re quicker than a bullet! I ain’t saying we’re FASTER than a bullet, but we could probably dodge some now!”>>4548046>Give bones a name (Write-In)Mr. Skellington
>>4548040>BONE UP: SPEED>WAIT A WHILE before giving bones a name
>>4548040>BONE UP: STRENGTH--”You probably didn’t notice, but I’ve gotten stronger. Denser. BEEFIER, baby. You’re a little more sluggish, yea, but you can throw and take punches like a pro!”>WAIT A WHILE before giving bones a name
>>4548101backing this as well, we are gonna be fast and bust some bonebags up. I am getting a Luigi's Mansion vibe from this whole quest as well.
>>4548101>>4548224>>4548249>>4548396>>4548418>>4548431Being compared to Luigi's Mansion is a better compliment than I could have asked for, thank you! What say we SPEED things up a bit, hm? Writing!Also, Democracy rules in favor of naming our poor bones Ly. The cycle repeats itself...
>>4548046>>4548101>>4548224>>4548249>>4548396>>4548418>>4548431You haven’t gone through big changes like this since puberty, but it’s hard not to be excited when your very own skeleton tells you it’s undergone some updates.“First, I’ll be blunt. We weren’t exactly a track star before all of this.”You frown. As if your bones would know how much a gym membership costs.“That said, I can safely say that thanks to whatever Tim did to us, I feel a whole lot FASTER! Of course, seein’ is believin’, so…”Your bones force you up out of your seat, then have you run laps around the tiny cell. It’s not a lot of room to maneuver, but you have to admit you’re going a LOT faster than before! You’re barely even panting, either! The alligator guard shoots you a withering look through the bars on the door, but says nothing. You do a few more circles, then finish up with a cartwheel. Holy crap, you can do cartwheels.“Not bad, huh princess?”Not bad at all. In fact, you can’t help but wonder if other things have improved too. Your reflexes, perhaps?“Probably! It’s a lot easier to move you around now, that’s for sure. Now if you could lose a few more pounds, we’d really be--”Yep yep, gotcha. Faster now. Eager to test your new powers, you rap on the door and politely ask the guards to toss another object at you. You weren’t ready last time.“I don’t feel like it anymore. Now stop sloshing around in there or we’ll break your legs.”Fair enough.>Contd.
>>4548593You return to your corner and gaze down at your gloved hands. Not too shabby, bones, not too shabby at all. You’ll have to thank that wizard too later on, if what your bones say is true. Was giving you these powers some sort of third-dimensional Chess move or something?“You mean FOURTH-dimensional?”Yea, you meant to say that. Whatever the case, your bones have done good. Real good.“Well shucks, this is the first time you’ve really said ‘thank you’...”So good, in fact, that they deserve a name. One that commands power. Respect. Fear, if necessary.“Ooh, I like that last bit.”Oh I KNOW you do hombre, you say to yourself. I KNOW you do. Which is why your bones are getting a very special name. One that has all of those qualities and is also, like your bones, very special to you.“Aw shucks, Stan…”Your bones are hereby named “Ly”. You wait for a reaction. You don’t get one. You clear your throat and repeat yourself.“... You mean that crappy name that got everyone to call you ‘Lytard?’ I was there back in Middle School with you, you know.Yes, that one. But now's not the time to dig up the past. This time… This time will be different! Different, Ly. Wear it with pride.“Alright…” Your bones don’t sound too enthused. Don’t worry, they’re just getting used to it. They’re happy with your choice--honest!Now then, speaking of speed, you’ve got places to be. How do you get OUT of here?>Try to talk to your guards>Look around in your cell for anything useful>Ask Ly for help>Write-In
>>4548607>>Look around in your cell for anything useful>>Ask Ly for help
>>4548607>Look around in your cell for anything useful
>>4548607>Look around in your cell for anything useful>Ask Ly for help
>>4548656>>4548666>>4548707Right, you’ve spent more than enough time in here. If you don’t start thinking of an escape plan you’re going to be pulling unpaid overtime. Also you might die. First, you take stock of yourself. In the interest of time you compose a hasty list of your inventory on your COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY and decide to call it ‘The List of Stuff I Have’. Rolls right off the tongue.>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)>2 rubber boots>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.>1 Dead CELLPHONE>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)>1 TELESCOPING MOP>1 SPRAY BOTTLE w/CLEANING FLUID! (Note: keep away from skin and mucous membranes)>1 KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.>1 super helpful skeleton (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)You quickly survey your cell one more time. The ceiling and walls are made of metal, but the metal in question isn’t exactly thick. This whole thing strikes you less as a storage unit and more of a storage SHACK. Flimsy, but it does its job. Aside from an EMPTY METAL SHELF in the back corner, there are also two CRATES. You try to pop one open, but stop when it proves too difficult with your bare hands. One of the guards laughs at you, but you brush it off. You notice a small sliver of light behind the crates, but exploring further would require moving them. You’re not too sure your captors would ‘dig’ that.The SHELF is just that--a metal shelf. You assume at one point there were a few things on here, but now it’s left uncomfortably bare. Above it lies the ceiling, rattling from what you assume is wind from outside. One section, you notice, appears to be shaking harder than the other ceiling slats. When the guards aren’t looking, you extend your TELESCOPING MOP and give the section a quick poke. Hey, it moved a bit!“Hey! What the SKELL are you doing with that thing?”You hide your mop behind your back, but it’s too late. The guard is already leering at you through the bars, clearly awaiting an answer.You explain that it’s a massager for your… Intestines. Yep.The guard pauses, looking at you like a parent looks at a child when they steal cookies from the jar.“... Disgusting. Stop that.”Phew. These guys aren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer, are they? >Contd.
>>4548806Having thoroughly assessed your resources, you sidle back up to the corner and whisper "Ly!" out of the corner of your mouth. He doesn't respond."Ly!""SHHH!" Replies the guard.You begin to explain that you aren't talking to him, but stop when you realize that might have consequences. You shut up for a moment and are rewarded with a curt reply from your skeleton."Yes, Stanley, what can I do for you?"Oh good, he doesn't sound that mad any more.You quietly ask for Ly's stance on the situation. Does he have any hot tips or advice? Your bones sit quietly for a moment, then begin to reply."If I were you, and I kinda am, I would see if we could distract those guys somehow before doing anything. From what I picked up while they were picking YOU up, they don't strike me as the brightest bulbs in da box."You picked up on that, yes. "Good! I saw that thing you pulled with the ceiling--if we try to pop through there we might be able to get out of their reach for a bit. We can also see what's behind the boxes, but we might have to mess with the wall a little bit. Which reminds me. Did you pick up that thing that guard tossed at you?"Wh-Oh. OH! Right. No, you didn't forget to add the thing! That would be ridiculous. How could you forget the LARGE TIRE IRON in the corner of the shed? You pick it up and pocket it just to show Ly you knew about it."Anyways, you might be able to use that to distract them a little bit. We can also try to lure them in here, but I don't know about fighting em. They're not smart, but they have other stuff to compensate, if you know what I mean."Ly flexes your bicep to paint a picture. Crystal clear."Anyways, those are some of my ideas. I'll go along with whatever you want to do, but be careful! You're lookin' out for the two of us, remember?"How could you forget? Anyways, what's the next step of your master plan?>Rooftop escape. Out of reach and out of here.>Through the wall. You think there might be a way out behind the boxes.>Try to lure the guards inside.>Write-In
>>4548841>Rooftop escape. Out of reach and out of here.
>>4548841>Try to lure the guards inside.>Use our speed to get around them and then lock them inside
>>4548972>>4548999Smells like the sweet, sweet scent of consensus! >Roll a 1d100 to see how successful you are at outmaneuvering these boneheads! I will choose the BEST OF 3 ROLLS. Extra tidbit: your SPEED BONE-UP will help you out on this roll! Good luck!
Rolled 56 (1d100)>>4549061Here's hoping dice aren't shit like before
Rolled 98 (1d100)>>4549061Oh boy
Rolled 49 (1d100)>>4549061
>>4549067>>4549070>>4549080>98That is a spicy, spicy roll there. Writing!
>>4549067>>4549070>>4549080There’s an old janitor saying: “Why climb OVER furniture when you can MOVE it?” You were never really able to work out the meaning, but that MOVE part gave you an idea. It’s risky, though. These guys would have to be REALLY dumb for this to work the way you want it to. Really dumb.You make sure your two guards aren’t looking, then run over to the door and squat down next to it. You take a shallow breath, then knock on the door. With an exasperated sigh, the Alliguard turns around to peer through the bars. When he doesn’t see you, all bets are off.“HAL! LOOK!”The other guard turns around and peers inside.“Yep, it’s a room.”The Alliguard nudges his partner in what sounds like the ribs, making a sound akin to someone bumping a xylophone.“It’s gone! The one boss told us to keep in here! GONE!”You hear the guards fumbling with the locking mechanism for the door, the panic evident on their clacking jaws.“This is bad, Hal! This is VERY BAD. What if it tries to… DIGEST US?”The guards kick the door open and you finally get a full look at them. The alligator--or was he a crocodile? You never figured it out--and the jungle cat skulls both sit on the frames of what appear to be…. Bear skeletons? Something big. They enter the room one at a time clutching sharpened metal spears, barely avoiding stepping on your toes. Man, why did you hide on THIS side of the door?“I heard they have an organ that spits acid on command…”You see your chance. As the second guard squeezes in, you slip behind them like a cockroach and escape the storage unit. As they step further into your ex-cell, you daintily grab both doors, close them eeeeeever so quietly, and drop the latch locking them in before they even notice you’re gone. And…. They don’t. Seriously, you were going to gloat through the bars at them, but they haven’t even taken a moment to actually look at the door. You've waited about a minute, too.“Maybe it drooled on itself for lubrication and slipped right under the walls!” whispers the alligator, inspecting the foot of the shelf. The cat says nothing, a look of genuine worry on its face.“I’d feel kinda bad if they weren’t jerks.” Muses Ly. You nod in quiet assent. Satisfied, you slip away from the storage unit and creep down a short hall.>Contd.
>>4549107 A pair of double doors waits for you at the end--looks like you were right. This IS one of the storage areas in SHIPPING/RECEIVING.“That means we’re almost outta here!” Ly exclaims. Thankfully it seems like only YOU can hear him, but you don’t give him an answer. Peeking your head through the double doors, you notice several more animal guards milling around, loading crates onto trucks, and generally enjoying their new lives. A goon with a fish skull accidentally bumps a goat carrying a crate, causing some of its contents to spill to the floor. Animal bones. A lot of em.As the two guards start yelling at each other, you plan your next move.“What’s our next move, cupcake?”Shh. You’re figuring it out! Several plans begin to form in your brain as you scan the room. You could sneak into the back… OR the driver’s seat of a truck. That might get you out of here. It also might alert everyone in the room, factory, and roads leading home to your presence if you’re driving. Also, who knows where they’re taking these crates?You could also take your chances through one of the loading bays, but Clearwater proper is a bit far away from work--plus walking in the rain? You’ll catch a cold!Your last brainwave was inspired by one of your favorite movies--you spot a vent in the corner of the next room--you could pop it off and climb around to a less-populated area of the factory. Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve used the vents to get out of work.Of course, there are doors leading from shipping to other parts of the factory too. You kinda like the vents more, though.But what if there's something else here that you haven't seen yet? Something important? Man, this is hard.“What’s our next MOVE?”Zip it!>Let’s go bone truckin’! Hopefully the keys are in one.>Stealth’s worked out so far--let’s stow away in the back of a truck and see where it takes us.>Let’s just get out and walk. You could use the exercise.>It’s healthy to vent every now and then.>Write-In
>>4549118>It’s healthy to vent every now and then.To a "less populated" area, then walk away home!
>>4549118>It’s healthy to vent every now and then.Would Parable or Para be a name he likes more?
>>4549144That's 'Parble' to you, buster. You're not sure though--Ly MIGHT prefer that more, but if you change his name now everything you said earlier will seem silly and he will never let you live it down. It's the principle of the matter that counts here. And the fact that you're sneaking through a factory of animal skeleton mishmashes.No, the name stays... For now.>>4549125>>4549144Also, writing! This will probably be the last update of the night.
>>4549125>>4549144The vents. Gotta be. Ly doesn’t even have to say anything--he knows how much fun you have crawling through the vents. Sure, they tend to get sooty and there was that one time you fell through the ceiling into the staff lounge and busted the new coffee maker, but other than that the vents are a place of peace and reflection.>Let’s roll some 1d10--Nope, get the hell outta here. You know these vents like the back of your hand and can pull the cover off blindfolded. You don’t need no stinkin’ rolls, especially after how well people have been rolling lately. Except for that one guy--he did good.The argument escalates into a fist-bone fight, and THAT’S when you make your move. Using your newfound speed, you slip through the doors, scamper past the brawl, and slide like a hockey puck over to the vent cover in the corner. You take a moment to peer behind you as you undo the bolts--seems like the fish and goat goons have an audience now. Several more animal skeleton mishmashes drop what they’re doing to hoot and holler, giving you plenty of time to slip into the vent and replace the cover.Creeping like a rat through a loud, cold, claustrophobic maze is spooky and generally not recommended to most people, but you aren’t one of them. You follow the vents left, right, and upwards, and soon you have the best seat in the house--a line of vents directly above the no holds barred match below you. The audience clicks and clacks with excitement as the fighters take turns smacking and twisting each other into all sorts of configurations. Ly takes control of your skull and leans forward, engrossed in the display.“You sure know how to entertain a guy, cupcake.”You shrug and lean back, careful not to bump against the side too hard. All you need now is a pack of Pickle Chips and a six pack and you’d be in parad-Holy COW, that can’t be a legal move!Ly averts your eyes as the goat fighter twists the fish into a position too graphic even for /qst/ standards. The audience hisses and groans, and you use that as your excuse to leave. Traffic will be a pain anyways if you stick around for much longer.You’re halfway to the other side of the room when the fighting stops. And the hollering. And, well, everything. Ly pauses you and cranes your eyes back to another grille overlooking the loading area. The goons are all standing now, hands, claws, flippers, and digits crossed behind their backs. You can hear who’s coming long before you see him.The whole dock is dominated by the sound of slow, methodical steps, each one clanging with the same cadence and clank. Behind that, a quiet, yet constant rattle. You sit in the vent like a statue, not daring to make a sound.>Contd.
>>4549179The bitter, but familiar scent of burning tobacco wafts its way into your perch, and that’s when you notice its origin--a thick cigar stuck between the pearly teeth of a lion’s skull sitting on the spine, ribs, and shoulders of a fully grown grizzly bear, at least you think. He’s wearing some sort of… Hey, wait a minute. That’s Blumenkrantz’ security coat! Ooh, he’s gonna be steamed.You don’t recognize where the smoker’s legs came from, but if you had to guess you’d say a large ostrich or something. “An emu?” Ly whispers.Sure, Ly. Whatever you say. The icing on the cake, however, is the long trail of tailbones culminating in a rattle. You only know one animal that has one of those.“A rattlesnake.”…Okay, two animals.The figure below paces around his subordinates for a moment like a teacher waiting for an answer. If any of them have one, they’re too shaken to share.“Oh dear, did I interrupt some fun?”The lion’s voice is posh, like that of a butler, or a waiter at a fancy restaurant. One goon, the fish guy, stutters out a response.“J-j-j-just settlin’ differences, K-K-King…”“Stan…” Ly whispers, not taking your eyes off of the spectacle below.Hold on, Ly. The lion takes a long drag from the cigar and exhales--sending smoke through his eye sockets, jaw, and teeth. The fish looks down, but doesn’t say a word.“Well by all means…” The lion struts around to the back of the fish goon, resting a long claw on his shoulder blade.“Allow me to assist.”Like a gardner plucking a weed, the lion tears the fish’s arm from its socket with one claw while simultaneously crushing the fish skull into powder with the other. With a chuckle, the one named ‘King’ presses the arm against his chest. With a sputter of electrical energy, the arm connects. The lion uses it to take the cigar out of his mouth, then raises his other arms as if commanding an orchestra.“Far be it below me to let my subordinates settle differences like ANIMALS. We settle problems together! After all, a lone lion… Is a?”He pauses.“Dead lion.” Recites the goons. King claps his non-cigar arms together, a grin forming on his face.“Staaaaaan.”“Stupendous. Status update everyone: The Master is ready for his sacrifice. Go get her.”You exhale. Time to go.“Stanley.”Yes, Ly? Kinda busy right now!“Take a look at his bones for a second.”You do so. Yep, still terrifying. Everyone on the bus, chop chop. You pull away, but Ly refocuses your sight on King again.“Look closer.”Humoring him, you squint at King and his horror show of bones. Didn’t Ly see what he did with that claw? And what about the tail? Why does he ne-Oh.One by one, King’s bones begin to glow. Not all of them, sections. The tail, claws, and even the legs. It takes you a minute to realize you’re staring.“Stan, don’t they look kinda….”And drooling.“Tasty?”>Contd.
>>4549191You scuttle through the vents trying to avoid thinking what you just thought. Tasty? Get real!"I felt it too, Stan. Crystal clear. Those ain't your average bones."That's the understatement of the evening, Ly. Speaking of, you really want to get outta here now. Something about the use of the word 'sacrifice' really rubbed you the wrong way."In that case, how do we get out?" You want to give Ly an answer, but you can't. Not yet.A few more moments of scampering through the vents delivers you to your destination--the junction. A section of the vents with paths leading to almost every section of the building. You pause for a moment to rest and get your bearings. Obviously you don't want to try the front entrance--there's clearly more goons patrolling than you had originally planned on. Before you assumed these guys were pretty dumb, but they have a velvet-voiced cigar smoker giving them orders. That's never a good sign.The best options, therefore, are as follows. One junction leads you to the ROOFTOPS. You don't know what the security situation is like outside, but maybe you can climb down and slip away?Another junction leads you to BONE DISPOSAL, your least favorite part of the building. Besides smelling awful, it's a veritable hellhole where unusable bones and refuse are tossed into giant incinerators. There might be a way out through there, but that route has its own hazards.Your other long shot can be found in the STEAM TUNNELS. It's a long way down, but besides finding a way out through there you might also gain access to the boilers--those could make for fine tools if you were desperate enough.Finally, there's the EXECUTIVE SUITES. There's a route straight to the employee underground parking lot there, so that's your first stop if you want some wheels. That said, your bosses are pretty darn paranoid--that area is also dripping with security cameras. Not a big deal if your new friends don't know how to operate them, but now's not the best time to experiment, is it?"You really know your vents, Stan."You don't know the half of it. Time to move--if they haven't noticed you've escaped already, they wi-"FIIIIIIIIND HEEEEEERRRR!"Oh neat, guess that mystery's solved.>Choose your escape route:>Over the ROOFTOPS, step in time!>BONE DISPOSAL. Yeech.>I could use some steam therapy. STEAM TUNNELS it is!>EXECUTIVE SUITES? Sounds pretty neat!>This was the last update of the night! If you celebrate, have a fantastic Thanksgiving tomorrow and make sure to eat a lot! If you don't celebrate, stay healthy! I might drop in later tomorrow or on Friday--as usual, thanks for playing BONES QUEST!
>>4549195>I could use some steam therapy. STEAM TUNNELS it is! It's good for our complexion And we could get new tools.
>>4549195>Over the ROOFTOPS, step in time!Things that involve falling are bad for bones! Bad for ours too, but not as much.
>>4549195>I could use some steam therapy. STEAM TUNNELS it is!Maybe we can use the boilers to blow up the building, or at least cause substantial damage. Shouldn't be too difficult, just have to disable any safeties and turn it on.
>>4549195>>I could use some steam therapy. STEAM TUNNELS it is!
>>4549226>>4549316>>4549396>>4549447As luck would have it, I have a bit of time before festivities start today. Steam Tunnels it is! Writing.
>>4549226>>4549316>>4549396>>4549447After a moment of contemplation, you head down the path towards the steam tunnels at the base of the factory. You don’t even need to check for signs or anything--as you crawl down the tunnel your face is met with a wave of warm, damp air. This is the place, alright.“So about those bones…” Ly muses. Oh no, don’t start.“Oh I WILL start. Did you see that glow? They’ve gotta be special.”Yes, you saw the glow. Did HE see when that guy crushed that goon’s skull with one hand? Aren’t fish skulls supposed to be tougher than normal or something?“No, no they… Listen, all I’m saying is that if we run into that King guy again, we oughta take a closer look at the merch, ya dig?”Sure, I ‘dig’. “Cool. Moving on, why the steam tunnels? Aren’t those full of… Steam?”Yes, you huff, what’s your point?“Sounds dangerous to me, is all.”You gesture to the increasingly dark and damp tunnels around you. Yea, so’s this whole darn situation. You’re a ‘sacrifice’ now, remember? The sooner you get out of this place and as far away from these freaks as possible, the better. Besides, the steam tunnels are harmless. They just take the steam from the boilers and pump it around the factory so that everyone gets enough steam. It’s like a log flume ride. “... So you have no clue what it does.”You know that the boilers are extremely old and violently temperamental--that’s more than enough of a reason to stop down here. YOU know that steam is harmless, but animals don’t.“Steam isn’t harmless, though, cupcake.”Shows what YOU know. You pause your discussion for a moment as you arrive at your least favorite part of the Steam Tunnel junction. The drop.You think at one point this tunnel was designed to let a lot of excess steam escape outside, but now you’re not so sure. Fragments of a maintenance catwalk litter the sides, creaking and teetering in the massive plume of steam rising from below. You’d barely be able to see them at all if you didn’t know where to look. A mass of pipes line the walls like vines leading up and down, hissing and dripping at different frequencies. You peer downwards through the central steam cloud, barely making out the bottom of the chamber. Is that WATER below?Your thoughts are interrupted by a clang ringing through the tunnels.“Maybe that was just a pipe?”Yea, sure it was. You peer downwards and frown. You’re really going to have to put in a work safety complaint after all of this.What do?>You’re faster now--why not just parkour to the catwalks? You’re better at it now, you swear!>Pipes are strong. Pipes are reliable. Let’s use the pipes.>CANNONBAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL>Write-In
>>4549483>>You’re faster now--why not just parkour to the catwalks? You’re better at it now, you swear! Watch as we still eat shit even with our fancy bone powers
>>4549523You take a few steps backwards and do a few quick leg stretches. You can’t see him, but if you could, Ly would be giving you a concerned look right now. You curtly tell him to relax and that you AREN’T going to do a cannonball into the water that’s probably below you.Ly borrows your jaw and lets out a sigh of relief.You will, however, be demonstrating your sick parkour skills to get down from here.“Far be it from me to harp on a subject, but uh… You really wanna do that? After the last time?”You bet. Come on, Ly, it’s the art of getting from one place to the other in the FASTEST and most EFFICIENT way possible. It would be stupid NOT to do Le Parkour right now.“... I don’t remember us training for this. Ever.”Don’t worry, you’re looking where you’re going! As long as you don’t slip, nothing breaks, and you don’t get scared or tired, this will be a breeze.Wait....Okay, you’d better do some rolls before you psyche yourself out of this.>Roll a 1d100 to not eat shit! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls with an added BONEus from your BONE-UP SPEED SKILL! I might have to do meal prep after this, so if I don’t update until later or tomorrow, then that’s why. Roll well!
Rolled 5 (1d100)>>4549556and here we go
Rolled 47 (1d100)>>4549556
Rolled 79 (1d100)>>4549556
Rolled 4 (1d100)>>4549556I made the vote way up there without actually reading anything, but I came back and read the whole thread and this is really, really good, OP. It's rare to find quality comedy writequests. If you drop this I'm gonna kick you in the nuts.
Rolled 33 (1d100)>>4549556
>>4550203Thanks for the kind words--this is my first swing at a quest, though I've been reading them since they were still on /tg/. Glad someone enjoys it and I hope you continue to do so!>>4549604>>4549624>>4549669>>4550203>>4550338You've all been waiting long enough, so here it is: writing!
>>4549604>>4549624>>4549669>>4550203>>4550338It’s now or never, you can feel it in your bones. You take a step back for space, then breathe in. Then out. You lick the tip of your pointer finger and raise it to detect the wind direction--ew, tastes like bone dust and vent slime. Ly stays perfectly still in your body either out of interest, self-preservation, or something along the lines of both. You wait until every atom of your body, mind, AND soul is aligned, and when you feel they’re close enough, you SPRING.>>4549604>Roll: 5You don’t even get halfway across the drop. Missing the shreds of catwalks by feet, you tumble head over heels to the bottom, barely able to yelp before your face gets intimately acquainted with the conc>>4549669>Roll: 79Wait, what? She made it?Okay, rewind. You don’t even get halfway across the drop, but you don’t need to. With the innate intuition of a Traceur (you’ll have to tell Ly what that is if you’re still alive in a few minutes, he’ll love it), you reach above you with both hands and grasp a dangling piece of pipe. You swing like a trapeze artist over the gap and use the momentum to clear the remainder of the drop. The scrap of catwalk barely knows what hit it. By the time your foot touches metal, you’re already moving to your next target. You pivot to the right and push off the wall, using your momentum to run and leap, feet extended, to the next chunk of stable catwalk below you. The metal groans under your weight, but holds long enough for you to leap over a section of rusted railing, run along the circular wall, grab a cluster of pipes, and use those to slide to the bottom fireman-style. Swinging off the bottom, time slows to a crawl as you prepare for the denouement.>Contd.
>>4551252Using the boost from your swing off of the pipes, you lean back. And back. And back. And eventually, below. The drop, the catwalks, the pipes, all of it spins like a kaleidoscope as you execute a solid backflip, landing with a loud SQUEAK as your rubber boots hit solid ground on a platform leading deeper into the steam tunnels.You stand there for a moment, basking in the feeling of pure, unadulterated Le Parkour. The metal refuses to creak, and even the droplets of condensation quiet down in reverence. Even Ly has trouble speaking up.“That was… I mean, that was bananas!”Never mind. You don’t even answer him--your smug grin tells all the story that needs to be told. You really need to bring a HeadCam or something down here some time--this kind of stuff burns up on MeTube.After an inordinate amount of silent gloating, you proceed further into the ‘guts’ of the steam tunnels with long, confident strides. Unfortunately, your adrenaline rush is cut short by the increasing heat and humidity--you take your cap off to fan your face, but it’s no use--this place is like Florida cranked up to 11. As you try and fail to cool yourself down, you feel a stirring in your bones.“So I gotta ask… Is THAT what you were planning on doing instead of being a janitor? I gotta say, that’s one hell of a dream right there, cupcake.”You slow your pace a bit and contemplate Ly’s question. IS it your dream to be a Le Traceur? I mean, you already ARE one, clearly, but a professional? You were also thinking of going to college too, right? What WERE you doing?>Yep, a professional Le Traceur. That’s what Le Parkour people are called, by the way, Ly. It’s French.>Not really… I actually want to be a (WRITE-IN).>Eeh. You aren’t sure yet, but don’t act like you’re worried. Make an impassive gesture. That’s right, use BOTH of your arms.
>>4551254>>Eeh. You aren’t sure yet, but don’t act like you’re worried. Make an impassive gesture. That’s right, use BOTH of your arms.how old are we now? The real answer is a millionaire's wife.
>>4551332>>4551254Your ID tells you that you're currently at the ripe age of 20, but considering all of the pranks your folks pull on you the authenticity of that is middling, at best. Your FAKE ID tells you (and liquor store clerks) that you're currently at the ripe age of 21. Conveniently, that also happens to be the legal drinking age in your state--a fact you like to remind clerks just in case they forgot. It also says your name is Stantley Portabello and, let's be fair, uses a really old photo of you. That said, an ID is just another leash The Man puts on you. That's what you've heard, anyways.>I'll keep this vote going and check in tomorrow to get a better count! Thanks again for checking out Bones Quest and seeya then!
>>4551254Why does this feel like the biggest decision so far in the whole quest?>Eeh. You aren’t sure yet, but don’t act like you’re worried. Make an impassive gesture. That’s right, use BOTH of your arms.
>>4551254>Eeh. You aren’t sure yet, but don’t act like you’re worried. Make an impassive gesture. That’s right, use BOTH of your arms.
>>4551254>Not really… I actually want to be a (WRITE-IN).Pole Dancer!
>>4551254>Eeh. You aren’t sure yet, but don’t act like you’re worried. Make an impassive gesture. That’s right, use BOTH of your armsAmbitionless bum time.
>>4551254>>Not really… I actually want to be a (WRITE-IN).Crime scene analyst, just for the lols
>>4551368You've never really said it to anyone.... but you always dreamed of being a professional criminal. Robbing jewellery stores or Mansions.
>>4551372>>4551442>>4551561>>4551332>Apathy>>4551464>>4551540>Pole Dancer>>4551681>>4551775>Crime Scene Analyst>>4551776>Criminal MastermindWow, so many goals! Democracy has chosen indifference, but these will be kept in mind. Writing!
>>4551372>Why does this feel like the biggest decision so far in the whole quest?>It’s important to take an interest in your future goals, anon--otherwise you might get stuck in a dead end job like Stan here and inadvertently cause a Skeleton Invasion. Don’t tell her I said that, though. She’s sensitive.What was that about dead end? You’re right, there might be a few dead ends moving forward--Best keep track of where you’re going in here. If only you brought some breadcrumbs...Your mind drifts to Ly's question. To be honest, the possibilities of the future HAVE flitted around in your mind once or twice since you started working here. Once upon a time you had to have had a dream, right? Maybe a Crime Scene Investigator? You're pretty good at finding messes. Your intimate knowledge with bones might help, too. Or maybe you should just drop the pretenses and become a career criminal. It's not like the cops can do Parkour. Screw that, why not just learn to pole dance or something? It's great for your core, apparently! Plus you get paid to dance AND meet wealthy and interesting people. What's not to like?“Apathy is death. Worse than death.” At least, that’s what your Middle School Homeroom teacher told you. She’s probably still stuck in a dead-end teaching job while you’re doing parkour in steam tunnels though, so really: who’s the real loser here?No siree, you’re going to go with the flow. It’s worked out for you so far, no sense in changing course now. Besides, you’re still young--you can worry about that crap later when you aren’t being hunted by skeletons.You try your best to look as apathetic as you can, making sure to raise BOTH of your shoulders and lift BOTH of your arms in just the right blend of annoyed indifference. The “Eeh” comes out exactly like you planned--not bad! Teen Stanley would be impressed.“Just trying to make conversation, kiddo. No need to unbottle the SASSparilla.”Yea, whatever DAD. This whole situation has gotten you antsy enough and now you’re getting a guidance counselor lecture from your BONES. Golly.You continue to ignore those thoughts as best as you can, but the growing heat just makes it harder. Must be all the steam.>Contd.
>>4551808Yep, definitely all the steam. If you weren’t sure that there was a mold colony bigger than Texas down here, you might have considered using this place as a makeshift sauna. Heck, you might still use it if this whole skeleton thing blows over. “Rohkea rokan syö” you say to no one in particular.“Gesundheit” quips Ly.But seriously, this is a lot of steam. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but jets of steam blast intermittently from rusted pipe connectors, and the tunnel itself is so steamy you can barely see in front of you. Ly lets out a low whistle, somehow.“You sure you wanna go this way, cupcake? That’s a whole lotta steam to limbo under.”What a wuss. It’s steam--that stuff never killed anyone. You move forward slowly, cranking your cap fanning to maximum overdrive.“I dunno, that stuff gets pretty hot. You’d better watch your step, partner.”Oh my GOD. As if this isn’t stressful enough. Rolling your eyes as hard as you can, you saunter over to one of the nearest pipe breaks and let out a loud huff. Pay attention, Ly, you might LEARN something.You dip your face into the jet of steam to open up your pores a bit. Typical that a skeleton wouldn’t know anything about self-caOW OW OW OH FUCKYou reel backwards, your cheek burning like someone slapped you with a clothes iron. Tripping over a pipe on the floor, you fall to the damp floor and bump your head against the wall. For a minute you lay there whining, waiting for the pain to stop. Which it does, eventually. You bite your lip and say nothing--maybe Ly will be nice and--“That’s it, I’m gonna have a chat with your nervous system--I think you might have a learnin’ disorder or somethin’.”You DON’T have a learning disorder! Your pediatrician did a TEST! Ly doesn’t respond--clearly that shut him up.Or not. You barely heard it over all of the hisses and groans of pipes and steam, but you did. Someone’s…. Or SomeTHING’s coming. You still can’t tell which way it came from--both ends of the tunnel are too steamy to tell. You sit there on the floor for another moment and think--if you had to choose, where would you go next?>Double back. Maybe whatever it is tried to cut you off ahead.>Move forward. You can lose whatever it is up there.>Wait and prepare to strike. Maybe you can do that thing where you cling near the ceiling?>Write-In
>>4551847>Wait and prepare to strike. Maybe you can do that thing where you cling near the ceiling?PARKOURAlso it's generally recommended that you write the entire update at once and post it when you're done OP
>>4551847>Move forward. You can lose whatever it is up there.
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>4551849>>4551866Gonna flip a digital coin here and write based on the outcome. Thanks for the tips, too--still trying to get the hang of things! Patience appreciated.
>>4551849>>4551866For a second you consider clinging to the ceiling, but something makes you pause. Those walls are pretty slippery--what if you fall? You don’t think your ego can take another blow today. It just can’t.“Would have looked cool though, kiddo.” Yes, yes it would have. Taking a deep breath, you creep forward into the steamy tunnels ahead, knees bent and ready to bolt if need be. For all you know, though, you might have heard a pipe coming loose or a rat.Yea right, after all of the shit today has cooked up for you? Get real.You continue onward, doing your best to duck under bursts of steam and make as little noise as possible. Your rubber boots squeak a bit, but the sound is slightly muffled by the thin layer of water on the ground. As for the steam, well… You know better now. You limbo under one spray, but it’s just not as fun anymore. For a time all you can hear are the sounds of water droplets and hissing pipes, but as you emerge from the tunnels your ears pick up the telltale sounds of computers--hums, beeps, and clicks. Ducking below the layer of steam, you gain a partial picture of your new surroundings. This area, you wager, must be a control and observation area for this portion of the steam tunnels. Sure enough, a short metal staircase extends from the tunnels and up to what appears to be a control room--the source, you wager, of the mysterious computer noises. The stairs continue into a catwalk that leads to a ladder leading upwards. Back to the factory proper, you guess. The tunnels continue past the checkpoint--you notice a faded sign next to a work light, the word ‘BOILERS’ outlined by dew drops. That’s something.Your thoughts are interrupted by a hiss behind you. You spin on your heels and face the noise, but relax when all you see are a cluster of pipes bordering the tunnel you just emerged from.And then you look up.From the steam comes the blur of an object heading straight for your face! NOT AGAIN!>Quick, roll a 1d100 to avoid it! I’ll take the best of three! Chop chop!
Rolled 60 (1d100)>>4551931
Rolled 50 (1d100)>>4551931
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4551931
>>4551945>>4551963>>4551974We're back and we're writing!
>>4551945>>4551963>>4551974>Best roll: 60--close pass!In anticipation of the attack, you spring into action! And by action I mean you freeze up with a dumb look on your face. Luckily you feel the now slightly-less uncomfortable sensation of Ly taking over your body, and with a slight tug he pulls you away just in time to avoid some sharp something or other whizzing through the air.You retreat a few steps and raise your fists as you look at what almost took a little off of the top of your head. The yellowish blur stops revealing its true nature: a long string of vertebrae attached to the bones of what appears to be… A jaguar? The jaguar pieces cling to the wall above the tunnel you emerged from--its hind legs dug into the wall, its front legs--hey, wait a minute. The front limbs seem different from the back--they’re longer, bendy-er, and more…. Simian? That Tim guy has quite the imagination, that’s for sure. The icing on the cake is served, however, when you see what the neck is attached to.“Well well well, what have we here? A human letting off some… Steam? GOB!”A turkey. You were almost killed by the skull of a goddamn turkey. Still clinging to the wall with its jaguar toes, the skeleton moves its arms into a kung fu pose.“Don’t act so smug, gutbag! You’ve been corned by TERRY THE TERRIBLE, and you’ve officially GOBBLED up more than you can chew!”You feel Ly tense up like a spring, ready to leap into action.“Looks like there’s no sneakin’ this time, cupcake. You think you’re ready for this?”No problem, you’ve broken plenty of bones in your time. Granted, they were YOURS, but the point still stands. “GOB! You wanna fight, ey? You humans think you’re so tough, but this time I’m gonna knock the stuffing outta YOU!”This guy strikes you as dramatic, so maybe you can get some info out of him. Then again, maybe you can’t. What do?>Ask Terry the Terrible a question or two (Write-In)>Take stock of your surroundings and inventory>Prepare to fight>Write-In
>>4552189>Take stock of your surroundings and inventory
>>4552207As Terry busts out some more poses, you quickly take stock of your surroundings. The control room you noticed before is now behind you and a bit too far away to make a break for if the speed of Terry’s attack meant anything. Not to mention there’s a thin layer of water on the ground from all of the condensation--makes things a bit cumbersome. What DOES strike you as interesting, however, are the pipes along the walls. You’re no plumber, but you could swear that several of them seem ready to burst. Maybe they just need a little ‘push’ in the right direction?Terry himself doesn’t seem to want to come down from his perch. His neck seems long enough to attack from a distance and his arms aren’t too short either. Seems like he has the ranged advantage. Or DOES he?You recall your patented ‘LIST OF STUFF I HAVE’. Maybe you can use some of this stuff to avoid dying.>1 CAP with the Good Boy logo and the letters ESC.>1 coveralls (Note: get these washed)>2 rubber boots>1 COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY.>1 Dead CELLPHONE>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)>1 TELESCOPING MOP>1 SPRAY BOTTLE w/CLEANING FLUID! (Note: keep away from skin and mucous membranes)>1 KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS>1 painfully small WALLET. 67 cents inside made up of various coins. Also a debit card. Chip currently SMUDGED.>1 super helpful skeleton (Note: Ly insisted you write this down)>1 TIRE IRON (See Ly, I didn’t forget this. Stop hassling me)Always a good idea to test the waters! What now?>Ask Terry a question or two (Write-In Question)>Prepare to fight (Got a cool one-liner handy?)>Write-In
>>4552266>Prepare to fight (Got a cool one-liner handy?)"I may not havw a cool one-liner handy, but I do have this telescoping mop!"
>>4552266>Prepare to fight (Got a cool one-liner handy?)Nope
>>4552311>>4552335Let's go for it! Writing
>>4552311>>4552335“I may not have a cool one-liner handy, but I DO have this TELESCOPING MOP!”You extend your TELESCOPING MOP and brandish it like a spear. It was only a matter of time before you had to fight one of these boneheads--might as well start with this one. Terry the Terrible gobbles in sadistic glee.“GOB! There’s going to be a LOT to pardon THIS turkey for once I’m finished with you!!”Ooh, why didn’t YOU think of that??Terry shifts his weight on his wall perch and adopts another kung fu pose. You widen your stance a little and adjust your cap--how tough can a bundle of bones be, anyways?The skeleturkey drags his finger bones against the wall, creating divots and sparks. Okay, that puts things into perspective. With a laugh he rears his head back, cracking his serpentine neck. “What a twerp! GOB! I bet you’ve never even fought anyone before! You probably don’t even know that you get BONE-uses for being creative when describing your attacks!”You narrow your eyes at the Thanksgiving-themed monstrosity on the wall. You totally knew that, but Ly didn’t so… It’s a good thing he mentioned that! “GOB! I gave my opponent a HINT! THAT’S how confident I am in my fighting abilities! GOB GOB!”You feel Ly stiffen.“You’ve got this, kid. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. And remember, there’s no shame in fightin’ dirty!”Just like in Middle School. You raise your mop in what you think is a defensive stance, but keep your hands near your other items in case you need them.Time to carve this turkey.>THE WHEEL OF FATE IS TURNING! Combat might take a few rounds, so be prepared to roll a few times to attack AND dodge damage!He’s open! What’s your opening strike?>Go for the head!>Knock him off his perch!>Get him in the neck!>Write-In (Creativity = BONE-USES!)
>>4552425>Whoops, don't forget to roll a 1d100 for whatever option you choose! I'll choose the best of three!
Rolled 27 (1d100)>>4552425>Knock him off his perch!
Rolled 4 (1d100)>>4552425>Get him in the neck!Decapitate him!
>>4552425>Write-in Try to get his gross bird neck tangled around the handle of the mop, then tug really hard! What magic connecty stuff can stand up to mop powers?
>>4552463Sounds like a good start, don't forget to roll a 1d100!
Rolled 16 (1d100)>>4552463
>>4552455>>4552460>>4552469Bit of a rough start, but hey, that's why boxing matches go multiple rounds, right? Writing!
Haha we're fucked again
>>4552455>>4552460>>4552463>Roll to knock from perch: 27At the sound of an imaginary starting gun, you bolt. You really oughta thank Ly later--this new speed is working out for you. Terry barely notices by the time you’re underneath his neck, and by then it’s already too late. Letting out your best attempt at a battle cry (which, to be honest, needs a little work) you slash at his jaguar feet with your TELESCOPING MOP! This thing ain’t no flimsy plastic handle either--this is aluminum, baby!Maybe it was your battle cry, or maybe Terry is much faster than you give him credit for. Honestly, you think it’s those damn arms. They’re so long, but also strong! Speaking of, one of those arms grabs your mop mid-swing, spins you around like a yo-yo, and sends you flying across the room. You crash headfirst into the layer of water on the floor--your mop follows and nails you on the back of the head. As you spit out cloudy water, you hear Terry’s nails-on-chalkboard voice taunting you from behind.“GOB! Looks like I mopped the floor with YOU!”Dripping with sweat and water, you rise back to your feet. This bastard’s toying with you. As you regain your footing, you feel your skeleton snap to attention.“Stan! Look out!”You turn around in time to see Terry dashing towards you--his panther legs carrying him across the room in seconds. What do?! Don’t forget the 1d100!>Dodge!>Block the attack!>Parry?>Write-In
Rolled 15 (1d100)>>4552486>Dodge!
Rolled 6 (1d100)>>4552486>Dodge!
Rolled 85 (1d100)>>4552486>>Dodge!
>>4552515>>4552518>>4552533THAT'S the ticket! Writing!
>>4552515>>4552518>>4552533>Roll to dodge: 85Maybe it’s intuition, maybe it’s a sixth-sense you developed from all of the cats you fed when you were younger. Whatever the reason, you know exactly where NOT to be when the skeleton pounces. In fact, you know exactly where not to be so that the bony son of a bitch gets a little surprise. With a malicious GOB, Terry lunges, beak, neck, and hands outstretched to give you a hug you won’t forget. As an experienced Traceur, however, you of all people know how momentum works. You step out of the way just in time to get a much-needed gust of air in your face and hair, and just in time for your would-be murderer to whiff the attack and sail into a cluster of high-pressure steam pipes. With a clang, both Terry AND the pipes crumble to the floor, the former getting a concentrated blast of steam. You wince as your mind drifts back to mere moments ago, but hey--you learned the hard way, he can too.Dazed, but not beaten, Terry rises to his feet again with a pained gobble and uses his arms to shield himself from the steam.Time for a little payback! What do?>Whack his head!>Go for the neck!>Trip him up!>Write-In!
Rolled 30 (1d100)>>4552562>Whack his head!
Rolled 92 (1d100)>>4552562>Whack his head!I SHALL CONTINUE MY BAD ROLL STREAK UNTIL I GET A 1
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4552562>Whack his head!
>>4552606>>4552725Okay, it's a sta->>4552672I think we can safely say your bad roll streak is broken. WRITINGGGG
>>4552606>>4552672>>4552725Yea, not so fun getting blasted with STEAM, is it? Granted, you did that to yourself, but he doesn’t need to know that. Still wobbly from crashing into the wall, the skeleturkey strikes like a cobra with its head, but you dodge and weave in between attacks like a pro boxer. Now you just need to improve YOUR attack technique…. Hm…You’ve got it. In between ducks you plot out the trajectory of the skeleton’s head along its snakelike vertebrae--you think, no, you KNOW you can hit him now!Probably.With a menacing GOB, Terry tries to bite your head off again, but this time you’re ready. He bites downward, you dodge to the right. Spinning your TELESCOPING MOP in your hands like a baton twirler (truth be told, though, you were the mascot in High School), you raise it above your head with a fluorish and bring it down with a resounding CLANG onto the bird’s skull sending it AND its neck crashing onto the floor. Adopting a smug grin, you barely have time to duck as Terry’s skull disconnects from its neck and begins ricocheting around the room like a pinball.A cluster of pipes, the window of the control room, the ladder leading upwards, all of them act like bumpers as Terry’s skull flies across the room, gobbling in terror and confusion. Like a grim game of dodgeball you hop and duck as though your life depended on it (and it probably still does). The flight continues for what feels like a minute, then ends as Terry’s skull tumbles to a halt right in front of you. Sputtering in the ankle deep water, the skull clacks menacingly at you as its body swats left and right with its long arms a few feet away.“I’LL GOBBLE YOUR SOUL I’LL GOBBLE YOUR SOUL I’LL GOBBLE YOUR SOUL!”Set the table and grab the sweet potatoes out of the oven, Ly--you think this turkey is just about done.“Would you mind carving it?” Ly says, his voice a mixture of mirth and pride.Not in the slightest.How do you finish this chump off?>WRITE-IN. NO ROLLS, THIS IS ALL YOU, BABY.
>>4552900>WRITE-IN. NO ROLLS, THIS IS ALL YOU, BABY.Stomp his skull I suppose.Do his bones look tasty too?
>>4553063A classic. Writing!
>>4553063You loom over Terry’s skull, your cold stare burning holes through his cranium. As intimidating as you think you are, that doesn’t stop him from snapping at your toes and clacking like a typewriter.“GOB! Even if you defeat me, you’ll never defeat the master! SKELL, you probably couldn’t even defeat a pigeon without CHEATING!”Yea, well… That’s what YOU think. Damn, you coulda swore you had a good line for this. Nope, nothing. With a shrug you lift your right foot and bring it down with a CRACK onto the skeleturkey’s skull, crushing it into powder. “Guess that guy’s PLUCKED.” Quips Ly. DAMN IT, that would have been great two seconds ago! Adjusting your cap, you barely pick up on the sound of steps coming from behind you! You whirl around, mop outstretched, to find Terry’s decapitated skeleton staggering towards you like a zombie. You take a step back, but it’s too late--the skeleton lunges forward with its long arms outstretched!Aaaand he misses. And tumbles to the damp floor below. Wait a minute--an ORANGUTAN! That’s what his arms were from! You KNEW it!“I was gonna say gibbon.” Mutters Ly. Okay, no need to be a know-it-all.You tap the collapsed skeleton with your boot a few times, but it doesn’t get back up. For a moment you consider grabbing some finger bones to make a necklace, but your artistic side is interrupted by the smell of something burning. The heck?“Stan, look! The bones!”Your attention hops between the skull and the rest of the skeleton--both of which begin to glow with an otherworldly blue flame. You kick a few dollops of water on each, but it’s no use--the fire slowly consumes the pile of bones.“The marrow, Stan! Get the marrow!”The what now?“INSIDE THE BONES!”With a perplexed shrug, you grab one of Terry’s drumsticks (which, in this case seem to have belonged to a jaguar) and shake the dirty water off of it. An ember of blue flame eats away at the top of the leg bone, tickling your nostrils with an unpleasant scent. “Well? Does it look tasty to you?”I mean…You rotate the bone in your hand, checking it for anything appetizing.You could eat. How long has it been, anyways? You could go for some chips or something.“Break it open before it burns!”Or some french fries.“TRUST MEEEEE”Okay, okay, calm down. What do you do?>Eat the marrow. Isn’t it like… A delicacy in France or something?>No way, Jose. This bone is dirty.>Store the burning bone inside your pockets for later.
>Eat the marrow. Isn’t it like… A delicacy in France or something?Yum!
>>4553156>Eat the marrow. Isn’t it like… A delicacy in France or something?
>>4553156>Eat the marrow. Isn’t it like… A delicacy in France or something?Parkour like the French, eat like the French?
>>4553259>>4553300>>4553329Très bien! Writing.
>>4553259>>4553300>>4553329Full disclosure, you don’t really know much about the French. Hell, you still have a hard time finding it on a map, but come on, that’s like trivia show crap. Who needs it?That being said, your limited knowledge of French things hasn’t let you down all night. Need you remind everyone about that sweet Parkour run you did earlier?“Yea yea, it was wild. Eat the damn marrow.”You were getting to that! In any case, you’re pretty sure you’ve seen marrow on a menu or something. Or the internet. Somewhere fancy, that’s for sure. THAT means that by association, eating this might be pretty fancy.You look down at the rapidly burning leg bone in your hand. Yep, top shelf. With a grunt you snap the bone in two. Or, well, you TRY to. Turns out leg bones are pretty tough.“You had to grab the FEMUR, didn’t you.”It looked the juiciest, okay? No need to be a backseat eater. You look back to Terry’s other bones on the ground just in case anything else looked tastier, but find that the bones are all but disintegrated in puffs of blue flame. Oddly enough, the bone you’re holding is lasting much longer. Nifty.You take the bone over to the wall and rap it a few times against some of the sturdier-looking pipes. The bone holds firm, but you notice the part near the blue flame chips a little easier. A few more whacks in that area and the bone splits open, revealing the treasure trove inside.It uh… Doesn’t look too tasty, if you’re being honest. It’s meaty, sure, but…“Just trust me, kid. I’m rarely wrong about dis’ stuff.”Well if your BONES are okay with it, then....You bring the bone to your mouth and suck the marrow out. The texture is odd, that’s for sure, but you have to say, it tastes pretty good.In fact, you FEEL pretty good. The ache in your back fades away, the reddish mark on your cheek from your earlier… Experiment… Fades away, and you feel like you just had a whole meal! Hey, this stuff ain’t bad!“Told ya.” Ly croons. “I don’t think it’s on the same level as that King guy’s bones, but I feel pretty good too!”Yea, what’s up with that? This goon wasn’t glowing at all. Could those glowing bones have a greater effect?“I’d rather not go toe to toe with him, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want to find out!”You and him both. Tonight has sucked, yes, but there are some things that are definitely looking up. You tried something new! And you liked it!>Contd.
>>4553382In fact, you could almost say things are IMPROVING! Your new bone powers, the fact that you just whooped a skeleton’s ass… Maybe you’ll even get a MEDAL after all of this is through. They’d BETTER give you one, that’s for damn sure.“So now what?”Not a bad question, Ly. That ladder leading upwards is still intact, as is the control booth. There’s also that tunnel in the direction of the BOILERS, but that is gonna get toasty. Moreover, what would you even do with them? Man, it’s tough being in control.“I can take over if you’d like!”No way. Your body, your rules, creepo.“Jeez, sorry for offering.”Sure you are.What’s your next move?>Let’s see where that ladder goes!>Let’s check out that control booth!>To the boilers! I have a PLAN!>Write-In
>>4553385>To the boilers! I have a PLAN!We overload the boilers to cause a giant explosion while we position the big man over the epicenter. Or use the explosion for a distraction.
>>4553389Tensions are BOILING over! Writing.
>>4553389You take one last look at the control booth and the bridge, then shake your head. Oh no, you’re going to need more than fancy exits or computers for THIS kind of problem. You proceed past the sign with the arrow and the word “BOILER” emblazoned on it like a warning. Oh it’s a warning, alright. For these calcium-rich sons of bitches.“Are we doin’ what I think we’re doin’?”You bet we are, Ly. You feel your bones shift a bit.“And just so we’re on the same page: WHY are we headed to the boiler? The way you’ve been thinkin’ lately has been giving me indigestion. Or it would be, if I was your digestive system.”Be cool, Ly, be cool. You’ll admit your experience with boilers is minimal, at best, but if anyone can nudge them in the right direction, it’s you.You come to a fork in the tunnel, one with blue work lights, the other red. You head down the red path.You’ve been down here before, of course. Ironically enough to STOP the boilers from breaking. The company has been slapping bandages on them for far too long--granted, you never sent in a report about them, but you shouldn’t have to! There are other maintenance guys here! Another fork. You head down the path lined with yellow lights. Just like you remember.It was a hot night, probably some time around mid-August a year or two ago, but you remember it like it was yesterday… Yesterday……... Yesterday...............“What are you doing?”You’re trying to induce a flashback, now shush. YESTERDAY. YESTERDAY. YESTERDAY.>CONTD…. TO THE PASSSSSSTTTTT
>>4553487You are Stanley Parble, one of Good Boy Doggie Bones’ Evening Sanitation Coordinators. The BEST, if anyone asks you. No one does, though. It’s another dull Friday night, it’s still somehow hotter than hell, and, to your chagrin, you aren’t alone. You’re painfully reminded of that for the 23rd… No, 24th time this shift when your COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY buzzes with yet ANOTHER text. Groaning, you pull the Blackberry out of your coveralls pocket and glance at the screen. What a surprise, it’s your arch nem-err, your CO-WORKER, Boris Ponderosa. ‘Lobby clean. Wut r u doin’Good question--what ARE you doing?>Playing games on the security room computer>Trying to cool off in the vents (It’s not working)>Actually doing your damn job (WRITE-IN your current task)>Write-In
>Actually doing your damn job (WRITE-IN your current task)>Trying to clean the bone processing area, again... for the fourth time this week....
>>4553551Our old pal Bone Processing! Writing!
>>4553551Your damn JOB, if you can believe it. No, seriously--management has been on your ass for weeks about BONE DUST pileup in BONE PROCESSING, so here you are trying to find the answer to the million dollar question: why is this factory so damn DUSTY?You know the obvious reason, but seriously, this is a lot more dust than usual. Seeing is believing, and you’re seeing CLUMPS clinging to your exposed arms, shoulders and neck right now. There’s probably a regulation against having your coveralls half-zipped around all of this bone dust, but screw it--it’s hotter than a jalapeno with a flamethrower in here and you have a tank top on underneath, so what’s the issue? You type back a curt message to Boris telling him ‘wut u doin’ and continue your toils. You would KILL for more solo shifts.Just as your Backuum clogs for the eleventh time tonight, you hear another ding from your pocket. ‘I can see that ; )’You blink a few times, then you hear it. An unholy cacophony of muffled club music that heralds the arrival of the Anti-Christ himself. You follow the garbled sounds to their origin--the garish red headphones clamped around the ears of your co-worker and tormentor in residence, Boris D. Ponderosa. Lounging on the edge of a catwalk above you, he runs a hand through his gel-smothered golden locks and shoots you a grin. You turn around and focus on getting your Backuum unclogged.“Was lookin’ all over for ya, Stannie. Checked Admin, checked Disposal, hell, even checked the bathrooms just in case you were havin’ lady problems. You’re telling me you’re still sussing this place out?”What’s it look like you’re doing?He lets out a low whistle, then hops to the factory floor.“Daaaamn, kid. You told me you were gonna have this place clean hours ago. Forget how to use that thing on your back, there?”Boris hovers over you, peering into your clogged Backuum. With a chuckle, he reaches into the nozzle and, with a gentle tug, dislodges a large vertebra. You watch as he twirls the bone a few times on his finger, then tosses it into a nearby pile. Whatever, you could totally do that. If you felt like it.“Seriously, Stannie--winners can’t win unless they hit the end zone--how are you gonna become one if you can’t gain any yards?”You don’t answer. God, his deodorant smells like clown shit.“Listen, I like ya so I feel like I've gotta let you know: they’re TALKING. Everyone in management, everyone in the factory, hell even the guys in MAINTENANCE.”You can almost feel his stubble graze the side of your cap--the scent of the four pieces of spearmint bubble gum he’s chewing. He won’t move without an answer."What are you doin' here, Stannie?"What do you tell him? Choose one or more!>Why do YOU care?>Why are YOU here?>I’m here because (WRITE-IN)>WRITE-IN
>>4553663>>Why do YOU care?fuck outta here Boris, we got bone business to attend too.
>>4553663>Why are YOU here?
>>4553673>>4553709You drop the Backuum onto the floor and face Boris, stupid headphones and all. What exactly did you do to deserve HIS attention? You never asked for a guardian angel--did someone else pick up the request? Boris pops another piece of gum into his mouth and lets out a rueful sigh. You love it when it tries to imitate human emotion. “Because I feel awful watching people suffer for no reason, especially when I’m able to help. It’s like watching a bee drown in a swimming pool--I’m happy to help as long as she doesn’t sting me. You get it?”Damn, anything but a pool metaphor. He KNOWS your parents house had a pool! Shit! Boris picks up your Backuum from the floor and wipes the bone dust off. Of course none of it is clinging to HIM.“Can I tell you what I think?”You haven’t had any trouble doing it so far. Or EVER. Another sigh. He continues like a doctor delivering bad news to a patient.“I think you LIKE being stuck, Stannie. I think you’ve found that comfortable dead leaf floating in the center of the pool and you’re stickin’ there. Imagine all of the flowers on the far side of that pool--all of the pollen, the colors, the other bees!”He gestures to the ceiling as if he was conjuring an image of the scene. You don’t bother looking.“But here you are on the leaf, sinking. It was the same when we were in High School too, I remember.”>CONTD.
>>4553731Of course. He haaaaad to remind you about High School. It always comes back to High School.“Janitor, Mascot, Coveralls, Mascot Suit--it’s all the same leaf, Lyly. It’s still sinking. But it’s not too late! Me? I’m on my way out of here--a few months from now I’ll have that massage therapist license and boom, on to brighter flowers! But I’m still here and I’m still scorin’ points. I tripped a few times in school too, but what do you do when you trip, Stannie?”You stroke an imaginary beard. “Score a cushy fire-proof job from your executive dad?” Boris freezes, registering what you said. For a moment you think you’re about to finally throw down--GOD you hope you’re about to throw down! He’s bigger, yea, but you’re WILEY. Your coworker steps towards you, arm raised above him, and slaps your bare shoulder a few times, his trademark boisterous laugh echoing through the factory. He even bumps your FIST with his other hand. DAMN HE’S GOOD!“You GET BACK UP! But yea, the family connections don’t hurt in the least.”He shoots you a wink coupled with another Cheshire smile, then turns around and begins surveying the factory floor. “Tell you what, bumble bee--I’m gonna do you a favor. I’ll take over here so you can clear your mind a little bit--get a fresh look at newer pastures. The boilers have been getting cranky lately--how about you go and win them over with your… He faces you once more, grinning with one side of his mouth.“Well, I’m sure you can figure it out.”What do you say?>Fine, I’ll go take a look.>Screw you, why don’t YOU do it?>How about we go together?>Write-In
>>4553734>Fine, I’ll go take a look.Stupid bone dust...
Unfortunately my teaching job comes back from holiday tomorrow, so future BONES QUEST updates will probably happen later in the day and might not be as frequent (Most likely around 10/11pm UTC). I'll check on things tomorrow, but as usual thanks for participating and giving BONES QUEST a shot! I'll check in tomorrow, so feel free to toss in a few more responses, questions, or comments!
>>4553782>updates will probably happen later in the day and might not be as frequent (Most likely around 10/11pm UTC).Okie dokie!
>>4553734>>Fine, I’ll go take a look. "Yeah you are 'doing me a favour', prick. Do you see me walk up to you and shit all over your life for no fucking reason? Just get out of my face."
>>4553734>Fine, I’ll go take a look.
>>4553747>>4554271>>4554359I LIVE... AGAIN! And we're writing!
>>4553747>>4554271>>4554359You huff, taking a moment to wipe a layer of sweat off of your brow. Yea, some favor. “Fine. I’ll go take a look, AND I’ll do you a favor too: I’ve decided NOT to shit all over YOUR life for no reason. How’s that sound?”“Brighter flowers, bumble bee.” If your words affected him he doesn’t show it. Rolling your eyes, you turn around and hastily head for the exit. He shoots you the double gun fingers as you leave, his chuckle following you all the way out.“Shoot me a text when you run into trouble and I’ll come a-runnin’. Should have this mess taken care of in a jiff!”GOD, what a prick! You just KNOW he’s going to turn that bee metaphor into a regular thing, too--and you thought ‘Stannie’ was bad enough! You pause for a moment to kick open the door to a maintenance stairwell, then stomp the rest of the way down, relishing in the loud clanging your boots create.I mean, it’s not like you actively dislike people when you first meet them, but that guy? Ooh, he was bad news since you met in High School. A lot of the athletes were, sure, but that was mostly playful ribbing--you were the damn mascot, after all! You practically deserved it! A few levels down you reach a door in the stairwell with a sign marked ‘STEAM TUNNELS & BOILERS’. You kick this one open too. Well, you try. Stupid PULL doors. Ow. You yank the door open and balk at the wave of humidity that slaps you in the face--just what you need on another 90 degree night.You’ll never forget getting called in to work that fateful night and coming face to face with him again. He didn’t have the stupid headphones yet, of course, but the gum, hair, and deodorant strong enough to choke a rhino? Yep, that was all there. “Long time no see, Stannie! Finally graduated, huh?” That nudge to your ribs, that laugh he and your supervisor Jerry shared. Jerry’s innocent, but damning statement: “Say, how about you show your old pal the ropes, Stanley?” It HAUNTS you.>CONTD.
>>4554460Your rage carries you 2/3rds of the way to the boilers, but the work lights guide you the rest of the way through the branching paths. RED, YELLOW, then BLUE. ‘Rude Yeoman Burp’ you mutter aloud to yourself. You know, you’ve heard horror stories about people being cooked alive down here trying to escape the steam tunnels, but you’ve never really bought into that. I mean, wouldn’t there be BODIES down here? Exactly. And it’s not like steam is that dangerous anyways. Hot, sure, but not dangerous.Your thoughts come to a pause as you arrive at the heavy double doors leading into the boiler room. Even without touching the door you can feel a boatload of pressure on the other side. Bodies? Nah, probably not. Still, how bad ARE these things anyways? You mostly leave the boilers to the maintenance team. Your pocket buzzes again. Great, just what the doctor ordered.‘U there yet? Remember, R Y B! ; )’Yes, did he not hear your trick to remember? Great, now you’re pissed again.You kick the doors open, or at least you try to. These DAMN PULL DOORS. With a snarl you grab the door handles, turn them, and YANK.You’re greeted by an immense wave of pressure… AND A DICE ROLL!>Roll 1d100. I’ll take the best of 3!
>>4554461>Roll 1d100. I’ll take the best of 3!
Rolled (1d00)>>4554461I am really loving Stanleys complete disregard for the dangers of steam.
Rolled 96 (1d100)>>4554461
Rolled 12 (1d100)>>4554461
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4554462Let's try that again
>>4554507 This is kinda like throwing dice for a roll and then they just don't land
>>4554507"You mean the dangers of making your skin look nice? Oooh, spooky!"~Stanley>>4554510>>4554512>>4554513The doors fling open like a house possessed! You scramble to grab the handles, the walls, ANYTHING, but it’s too slick! Too far away! “HANG ON TO SOMETHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!” You howl at the top of your lungs!And… Huh. I mean it was a lot of pressure, but it didn’t really fling you or anything. Truth be told it was kinda fun. You got splashed a bit by the wave of trapped steam, but other than that you’re good.Brushing yourself off, you saunter into the now open boiler room where things are decidedly NOT good. You’re going to have to ask maintenance how they soundproofed this room because you’ve got a feeling boilers shouldn’t be making those rattling and screeching noises. Also, yow--that’s a LOT of steam bursting out from the pipes. It’s a wonder you can see anything at all with all of the steam lingering in the air--it feels like someone’s trying to smother you with a hot towel. You wipe the sweat and condensation from your brow and sigh--No wonder this crap almost knocked you over. The hell does maintenance even DO during the day?You spy some red lights blinking through the mist and head in that direction. Your intuition pays off--the lights lead you to a metal staircase and what looks like a control area above. You clamber upwards, boots squeaking on every step, and open the door at the top of the staircase. Houston, we have a control room.If you can even call it that! It’s basically a glorified box with a few computers in it. You bet this can’t even run RAZE. Which reminds you, your pal Gus needs to give you back your copy of-Okay, focus. You wipe the steam droplets off of the computer monitors and take a look at the desktop. Wait, where’s the desktop? What is this command line crap? Are we back in the 40’s or something? Okay, no need to panic. You’re sure there’s SOMEthing you can do about this without texting Boris--there’s just gotta be.What do?>Scour the control ‘room’ for some sort of assistance>Type something into the ‘command line’ (WRITE-IN)>Screw it, go look at the boilers themselves. Computers are for nerds.>WRITE-IN
>>4554618Uhhhh you think you saw this in some tutorial when your wifi broke that one time. Maybe if you just type in 'ls' or 'help' it might help you figure something out?
>>4554625Yes... We must try to communicate! Writing.
>>4554666You glower at the computer screen, wracking your brain for anything you can use. Wait a minute…. The KEYBOARD. You slump into the weathered (and damp? Ew.) office chair sitting in front of the terminals and type.‘Hello? Can you hear me?’'hello' is not recognized as an internal or external command,operable program or batch file.’See, this is why robots are never going to take over the world. The hell is an ‘operable’ anyways? You bang your fists against your head in an attempt to trigger something… ANYTHING! Just like that, a memory comes to you. One that feels like it was only yesterday… Yesterday… Yes-Hey, quit it. People are annoyed enough as-is with the current flashback. Focus, girl. You hearken back to...Oh wait, it WAS yesterday. You vaguely remember your internet cutting out--you might have had a few drinks that night, but you definitely remember getting it to work! That’s right--it was a video you watched--One of those tutorials you see on MeTube! You fish your phone out of your coverall pockets and click on the MeTube app, but as it loads you’re interrupted by a room-shaking crash and a loud whine. You glance out the control room window and catch a glimpse of one of the boilers catching fire. You don’t think it’s supposed to do that.Tell you what: maybe you don’t have time to look it up again. Just remember it--How hard can it be? You try out a few commands to see if they work.‘Exe, run, activate, 0451, password, help,’The final one causes a few new lines of text to appear on the screen. You pump your fist--now you’re GETTING somewhere!Choose 1 or more of the following commands:>>LOGS-Display user logs saved in current directory.>>DIAG-Run diagnostic on boilers’>>SHUT-Shut down’>>BIRTHDAY-no description found’
>>4554686>>SHUT-Shut down’They need to cool down>>BIRTHDAY-no description found’
>>4554686>>SHUT-Shut down’>>BIRTHDAY-no description found’
>>4554692>>4554727>>4554734>>WRITING-I'm doin' it
>>4554692>>4554727>>4554734You stare at the screen for a moment, pondering your options, then nod. You know what you have to do. You can FIX this!‘BIRTHDAY’For a moment the system hangs--you hear a pained buzzing noise from inside the computer terminal. Suddenly, the whole room goes dark.Except for the burning boiler. That’s still a clear and present danger. >~HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DONNIE~’You raise an eyebrow as you read the words. Okay, cool, but--Your train of thought is skillfully derailed by the flashing of multicolored lights throughout the boiler room--confetti and streamers blast out of orifices in the walls you barely noticed with all the steam, and from SOMEwhere in the room above you comes a passionate, yet slightly off-putting refrain:“HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU!”Oh hey, you think you know this guy! Whoops, hope you didn’t ruin a surprise or something. Just when your foot starts tapping to the beat, your vision drifts outside of the control room and to the boilers, which are now ALL currently on fire.Wait a minute, WHAT?No, not the boilers--well, that one you mentioned earlier is definitely on fire. The other ones aren’t though--those STREAMERS that shot out, though? Those totally are. Solved it. You feel your eyes start to burn as smoke mixes with steam--you crouch down a bit lower, but your throat already begins to tickle from the mixture floating in the air.Happy birthday indeed.>CONTD.
>>4554828You mash the keys on the board, just managing to type out the ‘SHUT’ command. The system hangs once more, then with an unpleasant crackle the rows of boilers begin to shut down. You exhale as the steam cloud blanketing the majority of the room dissipates somewhat, the rest slowly making its way out through the doors.Man, computers are EASY. Why can’t everything have a SHUT command? Lord knows Boris’ mouth could use one. Hold on a sec, why are there still alarms buzzing? Oh, right. The burning boiler shudders and groans under its intense heat--is it supposed to be glowing red like that? With a room-wide groan the boiler belches out a replacement cloud--this one more SMOKE than STEAM!>Malfunction detected in Boiler 3 Row A. Attempt manual shutdown.No kidding! Covering your mouth, you dash out of the control room and scamper towards the boiler. As you get closer, a trio of bolts bursts from its side and whizz by your face like bullets, embedding themselves in a cluster of pipes on the wall which, in almost Rube Goldberg-esque fashion, pop open like bananas, releasing hot water and steam into the already smoky room.As if it can’t get any worse, your damn BLACKBERRY IS BUZZING. Ignoring it, you pick out a large red valve on the side of the temperamental boiler. ‘Thar she blows’ you say to yourself. This should be a sinch--you’ve been watching this thing called Parkour on MeTube lately--you’re willing to give it a try.>ROLL a 1d100 to reason with this boiler! I’ll take the best of 3! Too bad this is a flashback, otherwise you would have some BONE-USES!
Rolled 98 (1d100)>>4554830but muh Bone-uses! noooooo
Rolled 41 (1d100)>>4554830
Rolled 76 (1d100)>>4554830
>>4554840>7QLiQa1O>>4554845>>4554846Holy shit, looks like you don't even NEED those BONE-uses! Writing.
>>4554840>>4554845>>4554846You know, now that you think about it this might be pretty dangerous. I mean, are you actually considering the possibility that you might die here?This, along with several other completely rational thoughts, never pass through your brain. You spring forward through the smoky haze, grinning like a madwoman with your eyes locked on to your target like a goddamn fighter jet. Bee in a pool, huh? Where does Parkour and saving the whole company fit in to your stupid metaphor, BORIS? In fact, screw the company--you’re doing this for yourself. To prove what you already know.You’re not just an Evening Sanitation Coordinator, you’re a god DAMN SUPERSTAR.And no pool is gonna change that!Other workers would have followed the catwalk around, meandering like a drunk snake to the end of BOILER ROW A and getting there just in time to blow up. Not you. According to what you know, Parkourers use the fastest and most efficient routes. It goes without saying, then, that the quickest way to the valve is the only way you’re gonna take.With mighty strides you hop onto the catwalk’s railing and catapult yourself through the cloud of steam and smoke. Your hand finds a hanging chain and you grab it, swinging like an ape through the rapidly growing flames in the boiler room. Your eyes burn and you’re sweating like a muffin in an oven, but you don’t care--not when your goal is so close.You kick upwards with both legs and use the momentum to let go of the chain. Gravity itself pauses to watch you flip through the air like a dolphin, and when you’re good and ready you come back down, landing with a loud ‘squeak’ right in front of the valve. No time to bask in the feeling, you’ve got a boiler to kill.Gripping the valve with both of your gloved hands, you groan and spin the wheel little by little. Like a sumo match it’s over in an instant, and with one last pull, the wheel turns, closing it off to whatever source of evil was causing it to act up in the first place. Defeated, the boiler’s red hue dissipates, and you slump to the floor amidst the fire and the smoke grinning like an idiot.CONTD.
>>4554900You awake with a start at the sound of beeping. Looking around, you find yourself in the familiar setting of a hospital room, throat dry and eyes stinging. A breathing apparatus covers your nose and mouth--the sun shining through the window onto the large oxygen canister next to your hospital bed. You try to stretch a bit, but stop when you almost yank out a needle in your left arm. The needle is connected to a tube connected to an IV bag--you tsk. Where’s the morphine drip when you need one?A plate of crumbs sits by your bedside--looks like someone was watching over you. Next to that are a few cards--not many, but hey! Better than the usual number! You also notice your backpack sitting on one of the chairs--you’re guessing that’s where they put all of your stuff. All except for your phone, of course--that sits snugly at your side next to the CALL NURSE button, charging thanks to the power outlet on the wall. Looks like you got a message, but you can't see who it's from.You lie back for a moment and grin--that shit you pulled better be on the security cameras or you’re hopping out the window right now.What do you do? Choose 1 or more of the following.>Check out your cards!>Click the CALL NURSE BUTTON!>Check your phone>WRITE-IN
>>4554914>Check out your cards!
>>4554914>Check out your cards!>Check your phone
>>4554939>>4554974For a moment you briefly consider calling the nurse, but you hesitate. She’d probably just send in those insurance people to barter over how many limbs it’ll cost you for this overpriced hotel visit.Or HE! You’re not prejudiced!You decide to forgo that highway robbery for the time being and snatch the cards off of the end table next to you. You can already tell who some of them are from at a glance, but hey--they took this much time writing them, you might as well read them, right?The first card comes in the shape of a ghost--two, in fact. Looks like they’re both drinking. You open the card and read: “In sickness and health, I’m always with you in SPIRITS!”Sybil. You pop the card open and continue. She’s always been… Spiritual, that’s for sure.“Stan--they say that people who survive accidents are watched over by a guardian angel, but I have my doubts. Most likely you’ve attracted the interest of a semi-benevolent tulpa or an imp toying with its prey. In the event of the latter I’ve set up several Druidic wards around your hospital room--don’t let the nurses take them down or you’ll be in GRAVE DANGER. Will report further findings to you soon.”You search the room for the ‘wards’, but fail to find any. You DO notice a bundle of what looks like some Kindergarten Twig Art in the trash bin, but--oh. Gotcha.“Anyways, glad to hear you aren’t dead! Hearts, Sybil. P.S, the ghost at the abandoned school was asking about you again. Will have to plan another meetup soon.”You grin, tossing the card onto the bed in front of you. Your poor, delusional best friend.>CONTD.
>>4555043The next card, if you can call it that, appears to be nothing more than a blank piece of paper folded in two, your name written on the side in chicken scratch. You’d assume it was Anthrax or a mail bomb if you didn’t recognize the handwriting.“Stanley--Heard you survived a fire. Pretty cool. Feel better soon, we’re too far into Dungeon Salt 2 and I don’t want to restart in single player.Gus.”He even put a period at the end. Well, that’s Gus alright. You’re lucky you even got a card. That one also goes on the growing pile at your feet.>CONTD.
>>4555044You smell the last card before you even open it. Spearmint. You almost chuck it out the window on instinct, but you pause. Sometimes these things have money in them. It takes a whole lot of willpower, though, because you know exactly who sent it.Yep, it’s a card with a bee on it. In a cast. The center is dominated by the words ‘To a Badass BEE-Otch’ in Flowery letters. Disgusting. Feeling bile rise in the back of your throat, you bite your lip and open the card like a hunter disarming a bear trap.“Stannie--First of all, no thanks needed for pulling you outta there. Paramedics told me that a normal person’s brain would have croaked from all of that smoke inhalation, but I guess you’re just something special, huh?”What, now you have to worry about SMOKE killing you? It smells bad, big deal!“Anyways, don’t worry--not like you owe me a favor or anything for saving your life. Or do you? Ha ha. Seriously though, the company’s happy with both of us for stopping the boiler from blowing, so consider this some well-deserved time off. Unpaid, according to what Jerry says. Them’s the breaks! Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of the pla-”You don’t even get to the end of the card before tearing it apart with your teeth like a dog. BOTH OF US?! That Parkour was all you, amigo! Yea, you might have made things worse with the fire, but that’s on those pervert maintenance workers and that stupid birthday surprise, not you! You shake your fist at the ceiling, cursing Boris’ name. You won’t forget this, that’s for sure. What matters, though, is that you KNOW you fixed the boiler. If you hadn’t and he did, well… Best not to think about that possibility. Picking the remaining scraps of paper from between your teeth, you take a deep breath, tuck all of those bad feelings in a corner of your head, and smile at your remaining cards. It’s good to have friends!>CONTD. (Don’t worry, coming to the home stretch of this flashback!)
>>4555045>This will probably be the last update of the night. Thanks for participating and hope you enjoyed it!In all of the excitement you almost forgot you had a phone! You could be playing games right now! Or calling a lawyer about that bullshit Boris was talking about! ‘BOTH OF US,’ You say in your best caveman impersonation. That’s gotta be libel, right? That’s the one where you lie on a--shit, you TORE UP THE CARD!Gathering the pieces of the card in a pile, you pick up your phone and enter your password. Before anything else you check the date--Friday, 5:27pm. You blink. A whole week has passed….Wait, no, you were working past midnight. You’ve only been here a few hours. Whoops. Anyways, before you can head to the GAME ZONE, a voicemail notification pops up! Holy cow, it’s from:>Your Parents>Your Supervisor>Write-In
>>4555047>Your ParentsA legendary hero would have a dramatic backstory with tragically dead parents; we have perfectly living parents who may or may not be disappointed in our profession
>>4555047>Write-In: A mysterious admirer
>>4555080>>4555092Parents>>4555064Supervisor>>4555108MysTerIOus AdmIRer>>4555124Your exVotes are counted! WRITING!
>>4555064>>4555080>>4555092>>4555108>>4555124You pop it open with a flick of your finger--the caller ID is listed as Dad. Oh boy, here we go.You tap on the play button and get comfy, or TRY to. Your pillow’s all warm and too damn stiff! It’s hurting your NEC--oh right, the voicemail.A loud and familiar voice booms from your phone’s poor speaker. One of these days you’ll have to remind dad that he doesn’t have to shout into the phone--it’s not the 20’s or whatever anymore. “Stannie Boy, it’s dad! Can you hear me? Say ‘AYE’ if you can!’AYE! Wait, it’s voicemail. How does he GET you like that?‘Gotcha. Anyways, we were there earlier but you were passed out--I told the nurse to keep the morphine away--you can thank me later.’Damn you, old man!‘Just kidding. Anyways, we went back to the house to grab a few things and-’‘TELL HER WE GOT HER SOME BEET SALAD!’‘Yea honey, I-’‘TELL HER, OSCAR’‘It’s on speaker phone-’‘PUT IT ON SPEAKER PHONE’You hear a rustling and a screech of tires. Oh god, mom’s driving.‘Your mother wanted me to inform you that you’re getting some beet salad. Anyways, hope you’re enjoying the stay--unfortunately we have some bad news.’You shift a bit against the pillow. Just what you need.‘We uh… Don’t have the cash right now to sort out the medical bill. We asked your brother too, but he hasn’t responded to our calls. Hate to say it, but you’re on your own for this one. Money’s been… Well... It’s been tight, you know?’You blink, then scan the room for possible means of egress. Does that window have an alarm? Can you fight a nurse? You can probably fight a nurse. >CONTD.
>>4555741‘Aaaaaaaah just kidding! We didn’t HAVE to pay for it! Which is good, considering all of the other ‘adventures’ of yours we had to finance in the past.’‘You’ve racked up a lot of hospital miles, honey!’ Your mother croons in the background.Very funny. They’ll see who has the last laugh when they’re in a retirement home. Your dad clears his throat, then adopts a more serious tone.‘Yea, your company paid for the medical fees, didn’t even raise a big fuss about it. Don’t know what you did, but we know your healthcare doesn’t cover all of that, so…’He pauses.‘Anyways, we’ll swing by soon. Let us know if your brother calls--we told him to check up on you. Uhh, anything else?’‘Tell her that pole dancing school called and we’re NOT PAYING FOR IT.’You wince.‘Oh, THAT. Yea, we’ll talk when we visit you there, but come on, Stan--when we told you to look for future opportunities that’s not what we meant.’Bullshit, it’s a good way to get in shape! They probably didn’t even watch the videos you sent them! They were HOT!‘You need to buckle down, kiddo,’ your dad says, no humor left in his voice, ‘take a page from your brother--he hit the ground running the minute he graduated. You, well…’The line goes silent for a moment.‘Look, we’re just glad you’re alright. See you in a little bit.’‘Love you! And no more messing with boilers or we’ll disown you!’ Your mom shouts.The message ends, asking you if you'd like to save, repeat, or delete it. You choose the third option and dig in deeper to your pillow.Typical your brother wouldn't call. He's been like that ever since he graduated--what the hell happened, anyways? Isn't the older brother supposed to take care of the sister, or whatever?Nope, he'd just say he's been 'busy'. Doing what? Hell if you remember.Or maybe you do! Choose one:>He moved far away to teach abroad.>He married his girlfriend, they moved closer to her gig.>He was sick of Clearwater and hit the road.>WRITE-IN
>>4555748>He married his girlfriend, they moved closer to her gig.
>>4555775Oh yes, HEATHER. How could you forget? You made one honest comment about her paintings and suddenly you’ve got a permanent spot on the SHIT LIST. What were you supposed to say? You thought it was a pumpkin!She got some job at a museum in the east and naturally your brother had to follow her. You thought them moving in together would rattle your bro’s marbles into dumping her, but no, quite the opposite--he ended up proposing. Man, you thought the ‘take a page from your brother’ comments were bad before, but after that?They had CELLISTS play at the ceremony and everything! You don’t remember much after that, but you think your reception speech went over pretty well. And the food? That wine was the only thing holding you together through that whole thing--probably wouldn’t have even made a speech without it. Shame that groomsman never called you back.Anyways, his getaway into a perfect life teaching martial arts with his art dork wife just piled all of the pressure on you. All of that pressure… Pressure… Pressure…You taste water. Dirty water. And it’s hot. A dull ringing pierces your eardrums as your vision slowly returns. You appear to be on the floor of a steam tunnel.‘STAN! STAAAAAAN! PLEASE tell me you didn’t have a stroke, kid! STAAA-’You sputter, scrambling back to your feet. You feel your bones relax somewhat.‘Oh thank god! Quick, uh… Re.. Recite the alphabet. Backwards. No wait, what’s your address? No-’Take a chill pill, Ly, you didn’t have a stroke, you were having a flashback sequence and it went over a little bit. Happens all the time.‘Wait, dat actually worked? All I saw was you mutterin’ ‘yesterday’, then you took a nosedive and almost drowned in that puddle.’He dutifully points your head in the direction of the floor.‘I moved your head, of course. You’re welcome.’Yea, thanks. Wow, you really oughta do that in a chair or something next time. Anyways, uh… What were we doing again?‘.... The boiler, remember? You had a big plan and everything.’Right, THAT. The plan. Yes. The big plan. ‘... Wow, you really were somewhere else. Any uh…. Any big revelations you’d like to share?’Choose 1 or more:>I know how to kill this boiler!>My co-worker’s a dick.>My brother ditched me.>WRITE-IN
>>4555815>I know how to kill this boiler!>My co-worker’s a dick.
>>4555815>>I know how to kill this boiler!>>My co-worker’s a dick.I seriously hate our co-worker.
>>4555935>>4555948You tilt your head to the side, resting your cheek on your fist. Flashbacks in movies are always relevant and useful to the plot, right? So what was the big reveal about yours? Of COURSE!You smack your fist into the palm of your other hand. Boris is a dick. That’s it!“The guy who took credit for stoppin’ the boiler? Yea, he’s a total dick. Glad you were finally able to come to realize that after almost drowning.”Thank you! Say, you don’t think he…“We can only hope so. I mean, the news on your phone looked pretty bad.”Yea, if anyone deserves to be attacked by skeletons, it’s him. For all you know he’s waiting to take your credit for stopping the skeleton menace. MAN, now you’re pissed off again! You shake your fist in the air, cursing his name under your breath. BORIS!“Focus, cupcake--we ain’t outta this yet.”That reminds you, how the hell didn’t you get caught while you were drowning in a puddle? You must have been out for hours!“Minutes, actually, and nah, no sign of the enemy.”Only minutes? Does that… Could it mean…Are you a TIME TRAVELER? Your bones go quiet for a minute, then you feel a pinch in your ears. You yelp.“Stop thinkin’ of stupid stuff and start getting things done! We can talk all about your superpowers AFTER we blow dis’ joint!”>CONTD.
>>4556000Fine, but you WILL come back to this thought. Shaking a layer of condensation off of your cap, you breathe out and continue onwards towards the boiler room. It’s not long before you arrive at the infamous last junction--the one with blue work lights and yellow!“Rude Yeoman Burp” you say, nodding to yourself. Ly adds another nod as you make your way down the path. The air is hotter here, and the steam thicker.“Dis’ is it. Any other stunning revelations before we get there?”Plenty. After all, you know exactly how to kill this boiler room. You feel Ly’s presence lean in, clearly all ears. It’s simple. You know your company better than anyone--chances are they never actually replaced that boiler you fixed. With luck all you have to do is crank open the valve, PULL it off if you’re feeling paranoid enough, and head for the hills. You and Ly will be drinking White Russians and laughing the whole thing off before you can say ‘Under Pressure’. Ly nods your head as you relay the plan.“Hey, can’t argue with simplicity. Let’s just hope those other boneheads aren’t wise to your plan.’Hey, yea, that’s a good point. You think they’ll try to stop it, sure, but will enough of them leave their posts to check out the commotion? Oh, maybe you can still use ‘THAT’.“The wha? Oh… That might get their attention, sure.” You grin. The cards are all coming together, and all of them are BLACKJACKS. You chuckle to yourself as you continue down the path, feeling your way using the wall as a guide. It’s not long before you reach your old friends, the double doors. Though a bit rusty from the constant flow of steam in the tunnels, they sit like two sentries guarding the entrance to the boiler room. With no cracks or windows on them, who knows what dark secrets they hide? You motion for Ly to quiet down and touch them. They’re warm and have the faintest taste of pressure on the other side, but they’re nothing like they were the last time you were down here. “Did.. Did you just lick that door?”ZIP IT!What’s your plan here?>Yank ‘em open!>Plant your ear on one and listen before entering.>No wait, this was a bad idea. Let’s just leave, Ly.>WRITE-IN
>>4556009>Plant your ear on one and listen before entering.
>>4556245>Last update of the night! I will check in TOMORROW around 10/11pm UTC!Call it a hunch, but things just seem a bit too... Convenient. I mean you even got a whole uninterrupted flashback sequence--that can't be good.No, something is UP. You've been called many things, paranoid among them, but this is definitely one of those times that you're right.Maybe.You press your ear against the door and close your eyes, shut your mouth, and pinch your nose--you heard doing that gives you like, super hearing or something.What do you hear?>Gimme a 1d100 roll--I'll take the best of 3!
Rolled 62 (1d100)>>4556261
Rolled 95 (1d100)>>4556261
Rolled 8 (1d100)>>4556261
>>4556286>>4556299>>4556300Healthy-lookin' rolls! Bones Quest is WRITING
>>4556286>>4556299>>4556300Nothing. For what feels like minutes, you hear nothing, save for the hissing of steam and the faint rumble of fluids running through the pipes all around you. And then… A crackle of electricity--faint, but noticeable.“Do you hear an-”SSSSH!You almost lose it, but then you hear something new--a voice, and a familiar one at that.“-aster, I was just about to contact you.”King. The lion-headed guy who crushed that one skeleton’s head into powder. While smoking.“What can King, your loyal servant, do for you?”Then you hear another familiar voice--one that tenses you up and sends icy fingers down your spine. Nasally and high-pitched, yet all the more terrifying when you realize who King’s talking to.“MORE LIKE KING OF THE JUMBLE!”Trachea. Or was it Tom?“TIM!” Ly whispers, trying to be helpful.Yea, that guy. Wait, is he HERE? RIGHT NOW? You scootch away from the door a bit in a vague attempt to avoid detection.“IT APPEARS THE MOUSE HAS MARROWLY ESCAPED THE CAT!”You hear an uneasy shuffle of feet on a catwalk. Probably King's.“Master, please understand--it was a momentary lapse of security, nothing mo-”“YOU AND YOUR MENAGERIE OF MORONS WERE DUPED BY AN UNCONSCIOUS FLESHBAG! IF I STILL HAD SALIVA GLANDS I’D BE SPITTING MAD!”You squirm a bit. It’s always so awkward when you hear people fighting. Ly shushes you as King regains some composure in his sultry voice.“A setback, nothing more! Mark my words, she won’t set one toe outside without being caught! My men will see to that.”“PATELLA ME THEN, HOW CAN YOU BE SO SURE SHE HASN’T ALREADY ESCAPED?”A pause. King replies in a tone that betrays a smug smile.“Because I can smell her, Master. She’s close.”You catch the faint sound of a sniff, then another.“Very close.”>CONTD.
>>4556971You take a quick whiff of yourself. You aren’t THAT easy to smell, are you? ARE you? Ly, are we?!Ly pauses, then responds like a parent telling their child that no, they WON’T be going to the amusement park today.“I uh… I mean to your credit you just smell like cleaning supplies. Could be worse, cupcake.”Fantastic. You draw your attention (and ear) back to the doors.“NO MORE SLIP-UPS, YOU SAVANNA-BORN SIMPLETON! GET ME THE JANITOR DEAD OR ALIVE! I TRUST I DON’T HAVE TO REMIND YOU OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF FAILURE!?”You barely make out a murmur of assent. “GOOOD, CONTACT ME AGAIN WHEN YOU HAVE THE GIRL… OR ELSE! BONE VOYAGE!”Tim’s voice is punctuated with a raucous cackle of laughter followed by the crackle of electricity. Then a pause.“... BLAST, HOW DO I END THE SCRY SPELL?”“Master, you need to-”“NO, I’VE GOT IT, I’VE GOT IT. I WASN’T BORN YESTERDAY, YOU KNOW! AHEM, BONE VOYAAAAAAAAGE!”Another crack of electricity. Okay, sounds like it’s over this time. Ly rattles a bit inside of your body and whispers to you.“So… Still keen on dat’ boiler idea of yours?”What’s your answer?>You bet. (KICK DOORS OPEN)>Yea, but I have a few… Corrections… To make. With the plan. (WRITE-IN)>Nah, let’s just leave. This seems like a bad idea.>WRITE-IN
>>4556979>You bet. (KICK DOORS OPEN)
>>4557042We doon this. Writing!
>>4557042You pause for a moment and weigh your options. Inside that room is a perverse freak of nature created by foul witchcraft, you think, or very convincing special effects. Said freak crushed a fish skeleton’s head in one hand about as easily as you eat a french fry. You’re also pretty sure he knows you’re here.“Ly, was George Washington still ‘keen’ when he crossed the Delaware?”Ly doesn’t respond.You repeat the question. Your bones fidget away from the door.“Stan, come on… We can escape another way. We can hop on…. We can hop on the suicide nets on the second floor and climb them to safety, Stan. Come on.”You frown. Oh yea, let’s do that, Ly. Because if we go back on our ambitions that easily, we might as WELL be committing suicide. Ly begins to speak up, but you stomp your foot, making a muffled ‘squeak’. No, Ly, it’s time to commit to something for once in my life. Not Parkour, not College, but kicking this posh jungle cat’s ass! I told myself I would go with the flow, and let me tell you something, buddy:You pause for effect. Ly doesn’t stop you.The flow’s headed THAT way. You point to the doors and narrow your eyes with determination. Ly squirms a bit, then borrows your mouth to sigh.“You’re right, kid. Washington would have gone with the flow too. Let’s… Let’s go all safari on his ass. I’m with ya.”You grin. No sense in keeping him waiting. You adjust your cap over an eye, bring your foot back, and give the doors a kick that could shatter the heavens themselves!.....OOOOOOOOOOOOOW, YOUR FUCKING LEEEEEEEGGG!You tumble into a heap next to the door, writing in pain. From the other side you hear a posh, muffled voice:“It’s a pull door, darling.”You knew that! You were being dramatic! OW! Picking yourself off of the ground, you yank the double doors open and hobble inside. It’s just like you remember--boilers rattling, steam clouds billowing, and catwalks… Catwalking. In the center stands King--two arms crossed behind his back, the other he borrowed from the fish clutching a half-smoked cigar. The rattle on his snake tail shakes a steady rhythm as the skeleton regards you with a toothy grin.“Well now, this is a pleasant surprise.”You could say that again.>CONTD.
>>4557109You stride forward slowly, not taking your eyes off of him. King chuckles to himself as he takes another puff from the cigar. He lets the ashes fall onto his security coat.Blumenkrantz won’t be happy about that.“I wouldn’t worry about what your… Work Associates think. I don’t know how busy you’ve been since your grand escape, but I can assure you that you won’t be shouting ‘Olly Olly Oxenfree’ if you somehow DO manage to escape.”The hell is THAT supposed to mean?“It means, my dear, that in the unlikely event you do walk away from this chance encounter of ours, you’ll merely be jumping out of the frying pan and into the proverbial…” He pauses, blowing a few smoke rings, “fire. My master’s been busy, you see.” He shrugs, not moving his claws from behind his back.You huff and glance around the boiler room. There’s nowhere near as much steam as before (or smoke, for that matter), but if there are other goons in here you can’t see them. You DO see your old pal, Boiler A, however. AND the control booth/box in the corner. You smirk.“I know what you’re thinking, Ms…. Parble, is it? My associates are dutifully waiting outside and covering all exits. This little dance,” he says, lazily gesturing around the room, “is reserved for us and us alone.”He shoots another grin your way. Yea, THAT’S not getting old at all.What do you do?>Rush him!>Ask him a question or two (WRITE-IN)>WRITE-IN
>>4557042Wait, so our current plan is to blow up the boiler? In a room we can't escape from? What was the intent behind your vote, anon?
>>4557111>WRITE-INI hope we have an aerosol can of something to spray at his cigar so it blows fire in his face
>>4557357You DO happen to have a spray bottle of cleaning fluids that MIGHT do the job. I'm gonna let this vote wait a little longer--I'll check in after work around 10/11pm UTC. Remember, go with the flow!
>>4557111If reason cannot be applied, unreasonable means must be taken.>Challenge him to a dance-off.
>>4557111>>WRITE-INWe are a janitor, he is a big top heavy thing with feet made of slippery bone. Lets make this place get slippery and steamy and go for the controls. We dont need to fight him, we just need to fuck the boiler up.
Rolled 1 (1d3)>>4557357 -- 1) The Ole Spicy Cigar Trick>>4557470 -- 2) Psych-Out Swing>>4557687 -- 3) Slide N SlideQuite the sampler of ideas here! In the interest of fairness I'll roll a 1d3 and right based on the order described above.
>>4557357>>4557470>>4557687You glare at King for a while, not taking your eyes off of him. He doesn’t seem too impressed by your intimidation tactics. What’s worse: him being here kinda throws a wrench in your plan with the boiler--I mean, how are you supposed to get to it when he can crunch you like a soda can?You wrinkle your nose as he blows more smoke rings in your face. Okay, you’ll admit it looks kinda cool, but you’re really not digging the smell right now! He’s being super rude about it, too! Plus the right spark in the wrong place could send everything sky-high, right? Or is that gas? You think smoke might work like that too…You’re about to chastise your ‘dance’ partner about fire safety when it hits you. In fact, it’s been sloshing around at your side the whole night even after you were captured! You shoot a glance at your toolbelt, specifically your spray bottle full of Germinator 2: Sludgement Day cleaning solution. The label on the bottle burned off ages ago when its contents spilled over the top that one time, but you remember the warning as clear as you remember your name: “Made in China.”No wait, the other one. “FLAMMABLE!” Yea, that’s the one. The rickety gears inside your head spin a few times, and then it hits you. You smirk. Just like in the cartoons…King coughs politely and frowns, somehow. Pretty convincing for a lion-skull with no eyebrows. “I understand you need a few moments to come to terms with the situation, but if you don’t mind I’ve got a rather busy schedule to keep. Would you prefer I kill you now, or did you want to grovel a little bit first? I'm quite partial to the classic 'No no, I have so much to live for!' Hmhmhm, scrumptious.”He even pronounced it ‘shejule’. Man, you hate that.Actually, is that the correct pronunciation?“I assure you, my dear, where you're going, you won’t have to worry about proper diction. Very well, I’ll count down to give you a bit more… Motivation.”The posh skeleton lifts his cigar to his lion jaws, then lazily puffs another cloud your way. Covering your nose, you almost fail to notice it’s in the shape of a number. ‘10’.You nod, then take a few steps forward. Another cloud: ‘9’.Your hand hovers near your hip where your spray bottle sits like a gun in the holster. You only need two things here: to get close to him, ‘8’And to be quick on the draw.>Roll a 1d100 to show him the dangers of smoking! I’ll take the best of 3, but don’t fret--you’ll also get a SPEED BONE-US from your speedy bones!
Rolled 95 (1d100)>>4557766>Roll a 1d100 to show him the dangers of smoking! I’ll take the best of 3, but don’t fret--you’ll also get a SPEED BONE-US from your speedy bones!Stanley you rat! How could you give your nemesis the old spicy cigar!
>>4557768That's a swell roll--doesn't get much better than that, usually. In the interest of time...WRITING!
>>4557768Okay, okay! No need for the smoke numbers--you’re an asthmatic. Ly manages a “Wha?” before you kick yourself in the ankle. Have some goddamn FAITH.King peers down at you over his cigar with his burning eyes, clearly trying to decipher your intentions. He chews the cigar a little and smirks.“Well now. The file I pilfered from your security chief’s office mentioned you might have some… Eccentricities.”He stretches his back. You didn’t really get a good look from the vent, but this guy is TALL. Then again, you’re not exactly Abraham Lincoln yourself.... “But I mean it when I say Thank you. Humans are usually so dramatic when it comes to losing their lives…”Another puff, then he leans forward and down to your level. You feel another puff of smoke hit your face--you let it dissipate, not ready to move your arms yet.“So, what will it be? Slow, quick? Some humans prefer PAINFUL if you can believe it…”How about well-done?The orbs in King’s skull flicker for a moment, confused. No worries, he’ll get the joke.Like a gunslinger of yore you yank your spray bottle out of its tool belt holster into your right hand. King blinks, then begins to move his arms from behind his back, but it’s too late--you’re the hero in this western.Stepping back with your left foot you instinctively shield your face with your arm--experience tells you that you don’t want this stuff in or around your eyes, burning or not. At the same time, you raise the bottle’s nozzle so it’s level with the skeleton’s lit cigar, shoot him a grin of your own, then pull the trigger.Squirt.>CONTD.
>>4557832It was hot when you came in--the steam didn’t help much with that. It did help spread a layer of moisture all over you, though, as did Terry when he tossed you onto the wet floor. Your flashback/stroke certainly didn’t hurt either. Through vanity or simple care, King managed to stay pretty dry--sucks to be him.Yes, it was hot before, but not much can compare to the veritable FIREBALL you just launched directly onto King’s face and by extension, the rest of the room behind him. You’re not sure how effective heat is against these boneheads, but that blast of steam didn’t do Terry (or yourself) favors, and it definitely doesn’t look like King appreciated it much either. With a roar the skeleton staggers backwards, dropping the cigar to the floor along with some sort of power tool from one of his claws. As he dives to the floor and begins rolling, you take a closer look.Oh shit, he’s got ABS.“Now’s not the time, cupcake. And honestly, this guy doesn’t strike me as boyfriend mat-”Thanks for the concern, Ly, but that isn’t what you meant. You mean he was carrying two A.B.S--Automated Bone Shapers. Basically multi-bladed handheld tools designed to carve through even the toughest bone, or your money back! Like a chainsaw, but even meaner. That’s all you really know--the company keeps the fun toys locked away to prevent accidents. You take a moment to pick it up off of the floor and check the battery--fully charged.If he wasn’t trying to murder you, you could kiss King right now.Actually, take that back. He probably tastes like bone dust. Speaking of King, the guy in question staggers back to his ostrich-like legs with a sadistic chuckle. The fire on his face continues to rage, almost giving him a mane again.“Well then, I suppose I shouldn’t have expected proper sportsmanship from a janitor!” He spits. Hey, don’t knock the profession, we work hard.The fire around his ex-neck flickers and whips with the hot boiler room atmosphere. Seeing the ABS in your hands, he smirks.“Ah, spoiled the surprise I see. In that case, this might have just become… Interesting.”He removes his right arm from behind his back revealing an ABS of his own. Clicking the power button with a claw, the tool roars to life, blades growling in anticipation. You stand and face each other for a moment, the roar of the ABS and the crackle of fire dominating the room. Ly twitches to get your attention.“Stan… His bones.”>CONTD.
>>4557835You were staring King down before, but what the hell--let’s do it once more with feeling. Like Ly said, you see it again--an aura of light emanating from the jumble of animal parts making King. Your thoughts drift back to Terry’s marrow--what exactly are THESE bones hiding?While you’re looking around you notice your old nemesis, Boiler A, behind your opponent, as well as the control box with the computer console. Even better, the walls are lined with clusters of steam pipes. At first you weren’t too keen on fighting here, but now that you think about it…This place might just be perfect.What do you do?>ABS battle, baby! Rip and tear!>Taunt him a little--take him off guard some more! (Write-In)>I’d rather not get close to this guy--let’s see if we can get that boiler.>WRITE-IN
>>4557837>>WRITE-INLets try and burst some steam pipes with the ABS and use it to blind and distract king. Then lets see about activating birthday mode.
>>4557837>Taunt him a little--take him off guard some more! (Write-In)"I wanna eat your bones" >sprays his flaming face again>use the flamescreen to get close and try for a cut with the ABS
>>4557837>See if we can cut something with the ABS to make it fall on King
>>4557837It might be worth going to a new thread soon, we are pretty far down the catalogue and also past the bump limit.
>>4558933>Pretty far down the catalogWe're on page 3. Don't make a new thread until page 8 at minimum, OP.
Rolled 3 (1d3)>>4558933>>4558964Thanks for the tips! Still figuring out when to post a new one--I'll wait a little longer before popping a new thread.>>4557850 1--Steambath and Birthday Party>>4558060 2--Flames and Industrial tools may break my bones and words will probably hurt too.>>4558169 3--Cutting straight to the pointAlso we have another three way split! You guys are so creative. You know what that means: 3-sided dice will decide.WRITING (new Trip edition)
>>4558169King rushes you, teeth bared like the jungle beast he’s modeled after. Hey, time out! You’re still coming up with a pla-Nah, he isn’t listening. He wields his ABS like a fencer’s saber--his swings at you are quick, small, and calculated. You’re able to duck and weave between them thanks to your BONE-US SPEED, but your years of dodgeball experience and the speed of King’s attacks tell you this isn’t a winning strat.No sir, you need a plan.For the time being, though, you retreat, trying your best to keep distance between you and your opponent. He’s big, sure, but that doesn’t mean squat when you’re far from him. Your retreat is so rapid you barely feel yourself bump into a wall when King lunges, swinging the ABS in a wide, but quick, overhead strike. You duck to the side, watching his tool’s blades chop cleanly through a large steam pipe.As you regain your balance, King is rewarded with a blast of steam to his face, sending him stumbling backwards. Heeeey, wait a second. You glance at the pipes on the wall and wince--that thing cut through them like butter! “Hey kid, you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”Ly points your head upwards and you notice a large set of pipes arched over the catwalk like a dieselpunk arbor. “Those could really hurt someone if they fell.”Gotcha, Ly. You’ll be careful.“N.. No. No--I mean you can probably chop ‘em and… Do I really have to explain? Christ…”Oh. Oooooh. You got it. Crystal clear now, yep.And hey, King’s back! He advances on you, dragging the ABS along the catwalk and making sparks as he goes.“Looking for a hiding spot?”No way! You were just about to roll some dice, actually!>Gimme a 1d100 to crush his ambitions! And him, hopefully. I’ll take the best of 3 and don’t forget your BONE-USES!
Rolled 18 (1d100)>>4559000
Rolled 22 (1d100)>>4559000
Rolled 8 (1d100)>>4559000
I see we're at it again.
>>4559092Never stopped, amigo, never stopped.>>4559019>>4559054>>4559090Looks like the good rolls have, for now at least. Writing!
>>4559019>>4559054>>4559090King smirks and takes a swing at you. Ducking and rolling under the blow, you smirk as his blade comes into contact with one of the pipes creeping over the side of the catwalk, showing you both with sparks and slicing it in twain. Jets of steam leap out adding to the ever-growing haze of the room.In one fluid movement you rise to your feet and activate your own ABS, its blades blasting to life with a loud roar! You dodge into a pirouette, narrowly avoiding another stab from King. He recovers almost instantly and slashes at your face, but you meet his ABS with your own. Blades locked together, you both pivot around in a circle, trying to gain leverage. Your footwork falters for a moment and he knocks you off balance, sending you stumbling to the side of the catwalk. With a flourish of his weapon, King lets out a low chuckle and grins.“Not as easy as mopping up bone dust, is it, girl?”You look behind you and smirk--he put you in the perfect position! With a wink you lash out behind you with your ABS--its blades meeting the pipes behind you with a shower of sparks and a shriek of torn metal! You feel resistance for a moment, then nothing as your tool’s blades cut through. The pipes above you groan, then topple downwards towards your opponent! The king of the jungle registers what you’re doing and raises his weapon to shield himself, but it’s too late!>CONTD.
>>4559143Yep. Too late.Any minute now.King relaxes. You hear Ly sigh inside your skull.“Kid, you cut the wrong bits.”No you didn’t, you knew exactly what Ly was talking about! You cut the pipe so it would fall on the skeleton. Boom. Simple. Pour the SportsAde Cooler on Stanley. Ly groans as he points your skull in the direction of the pipes.You take a moment to examine them. You’ve got to say, King’s been really gracious letting you inspect everything! Yep, there’s the cut King made on the bottom pipe closest to one side…You look behind you.And there’s the cut you… Oh. Ooooooh.You cut another pipe, sure. Now there are two pipes with cuts, but no pipe with BOTH sides cut. Whoops!You’d be laughing if you weren’t about to die. King recognizes your realization and bursts into laughter. Hey, cut it out! It was a great plan!“I… I can’t believe it….” He wheezes in between laughing. You try to get him with a cheap shot, but he deflects it. DAMN, HE’S GOOD!“You… Your employee file mentioned… problems,” He says, gesturing to his skull, “but…. But this?!”He gestures at you with a claw. You swipe at him again, but he dodges.“This is… I almost feel BAD about killing you.”Hey, shut up! He’d better feel GOOD about killing you, damn it! STOP LAUGHING!You charge at the laughing skeleton, but clearly he wasn’t as indisposed as you thought. You go left, he dodges right, and with a whip of his boney tail he clotheslines you, causing you to topple to the ground like a sack of turnips.Gasping for air and clutching your throat, you barely Ly tugging at you.“STAN, MOVE!”You look up to see a large, boney talon plummeting towards your face. OH CRIPES!What do?!>Roll out of the way >Slice that thing with your ABS!>Grab his other talon and trip him!>Write-In
>>4559149>Slice that thing with your ABS!
>>4559155Slicey slice, let's roll those dice!>Roll 1d100! I'll take the best of 3!
Rolled 89 (1d100)>>4559189
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>4559189I am still continuing my vote that we activate birthday mode
Rolled 99 (1d100)>>4559189
>>4559201>>4559256>>4559273You guys are just full of surprises, aren't you? Writing!
>>4559201>>4559256>>4559273>Roll: Ninety-fucking-NINENah Ly, it’s alright.You’ve got this.You don’t need to duck or scramble out of the way. You just cock your head to the left, feeling King’s talon slam onto the catwalk next to your head, bending the metal downwards like he was stepping on a bedsheet. You’ve gotta admit, he’s got some pretty strong bones!Good thing you have a tool for those.Like a farmer reaping wheat, you sit up and slash with your ABS, severing his leg in one swipe--the blades barely making a sound as they cut through the upper leg bone. The femur, right? Ly said that was kinda tough.King’s cocky smile instantly transforms into bewilderment--you could swear some of the flames on his skull went out too. Before he registers what happened you hop to your feet and hold a hand out just in time to catch the severed leg spinning through the air in your palm. King groans and retreats backwards, stumbling on some metal catwalk steps. Odd to see a skeleton so concerned over losing his leg. You thought it would be like… Like how bugs lose limbs or something.“You” King hisses in between groans, “Yoooouuu…..”Yes, me. You buzz the top off of the leg bone with your ABS and look inside--the marrow radiates with a golden hue! And when the smell wafts into your nostrils?Oh man. You don’t even want french fries anymore. This stuff is the stuff right here!You walk to the control box, gripping the opened bone in your hand like a Dixie cup at a party. You can hear King skulking around, trying to get the jump on you, but you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve yourself. You don’t even need to check if the console is working, you type out a familiar phrase with your free hand and slap the ENTER key.That’s when the whole room goes dark save for the green glow of the words on the computer monitor:~HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DONNIE~And just like you remember, the room roars to life with confetti, multi-colored strobe lights, and the soulful recording of someone singing a passionate and now very catchy refrain :“HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU”King stumbles out of the steam covered in confetti, eyes wide from the sensory overload like a cat meeting the backuum cleaner for the first time. He shoots a confused gaze up at you, attaching his cigar-holding arm to where his leg once was. Shaking, he staggers to his feet and revs his ABS.“You… There’s something wrong with you..”You give him a long, hard stare, not bothering to brush the confetti or streamers from your head.You have no idea, bucko.With that, you shotgun the marrow into your mouth.And THAT is when things got really weird.>CONTD.
>>4559308You feel a heat in your body, first in your stomach, then your head, and then your bones. ALL of them. “WHAT’S HAPPENING!?” Ly screams. You have no idea!Even King’s eyes widen as your body glows with a golden aura. You feel good--great, even! So much so that you feel like… Like you could JUMP!And jump you do. You were aiming for the classic ‘up, then down’ jump, but your legs carried you all the way to the ceiling and back down, your boots making a LOUD squeak. What the hell?“Stan… I feel different…”How different are we talking, Ly?Ly borrows your hand and uses it to touch your legs. You’re just about to swat him off for getting too handsy when you realize--your leg bones are much larger than they used to be.Is uh… Is that how legs work?“You know…” Ly pauses, trying to come up with a suitable answer. “I don’t think so. But I don’t care, this feels great.”Yea, I guess it’s hard to question things considering all that’s happened today.>BONE-US GAINED: EMU LEG BONES--Leap hard, kick harder! Have your toenails grown too? Your thoughts are interrupted by King who, getting over his initial surprise, rushes you. Either he’s gotten slower from his new leg, you’ve gotten quicker, or both, but you quickly foil his attempt by delivering a jump-kick to his sternum.The ex-king of the jungle goes flying, confetti showering him as he sails through the air. With a clang he lands across the room in a pile of catwalk, pipe, and bone. Growling, he clambers back to his feet and points the ABS at you, a shaky grin present on his boney visage.“Very… Very well then… I can see you’ve got a few surprises left in you.”Barring his fangs, King spits on the ground--the gob causing the metal catwalk to slowly dissolve. With a shake of his tail rattle, he chuckles.“So do I.”Okay, name ONE snake that can do that stuff. Name ONE.What do you do?>Flying kick this asshole.>Let him come to you, then show him your ABS.>Now’s a good time to mess with that boiler!>WRITE-IN
>>4559317Rattlesnake, duh!Oh, you meant the acidic poison...>Cut the catwalk.
>>4559317>Now’s a good time to mess with that boiler!
>>4559317>Flying kick this asshole.
>>4559331>>4559340>>4559390>>4559462Looks like we're cutting a catwalk. Let's see a 1d100 for how successful you are! Best of 3!Also, just to clarify: do you want to cut the catwalk and make King fall, or is there some other deeper meaning there I glossed over?
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4559484
Rolled 88 (1d100)>>4559484
>>4559547I love you anon.
Rolled 22 (1d100)>>45594841! 1! 1! 1!
>>4559718I hate you anon.
>>4559498>>4559547>>4559718THE ROLLS ARE IN! Didn't get much clarification, so hope you all are ready for IMAGINATION
>>4559498>>4559547>>4559718>Roll: 88You wave your hands above your head in mock fear and roll your eyes. OooOooh! He’s gonna break the catwaaaaalk! It’s about time you showed him how a real pro causes a work-related accident.Using your brand new legs you leap towards King, dodging streaks of acidic spit as you soar through the air. He tries to meet you in the air with his ABS, but you’re not aiming for him! You touch ground again with a clang on the catwalk behind him and jab at his chest. King easily deflects the blow and moves for a counter strike, but you’re a bit too quick! You duck under the blow and chop low, your ABS tearing through the catwalk with a sickening screech of metal. King doubles back, but you follow after him with your tool, focusing your swings on his makeshift leg. The lion knocks your blows away one by one, eventually catching your ABS blades in his and pulling you forward. You stumble forward as he disengages the lock and goes for a swing at your torso. You prepare to duck under his attack, but Ly takes control of your legs and hops over the ABS like a hurdler. As King recovers from the heavy swing, you turn around and slash the catwalk between the two of you. Sensing what you’re doing, the skeleton tries to leap to safety, but the loss of his leg causes him to flounder! Whirling around to face you, King shoots another spritz of acid your way, but you duck to the side and smirk.King me!With a massive groan of metal, the section of catwalk tumbles to the boiler room floor below, taking your opponent with it. Metal, bone, and other bits and pieces hit the floor with a resounding SMASH! You nod, satisfied with yourself. Just like in the cartoons. You peer over the edge where the catwalk was once connected, scanning the pile for any movement. “Is it over?” Ly whispers, craning your neck for a better look. You’re not so sure yourself--you’ve seen plenty of co-workers get mangled in catwalk accidents before, but King’s not exactly human, now is he?Nothing. You shuffle from boot to boot, frowning as you do. You’ve seen more than enough slasher movies to know what’s about to happen, that’s for sure. Should… Should you toss something at it? “I think I saw a coffee mug in the control room!” Ly says, trying to be helpful. I mean, it’s better than your idea of spitting on it.What do?>Go down there and poke the debris with your ABS!>Go toss some crap on the pile.>Say something to rile King up if he’s still alive! (WRITE-IN WHAT YOU SAY)>WRITE-IN
>>4560105>Say something to rile King up if he’s still alive! "I'm coming to eat your bones, mister! Hehehehehhehe"Sufficiently creepy
>>4560105>>WRITE-INWe aren't just gonna go down and poke it, lets use our sick new Emu-Legs to do a full flying impale move on kings already broken body.
>>4560155>>4560254Tell you what, let's do BOTH! WRITING!I also decided to try drawing our protagonist--this is why I stick with words.
>>4560155>>4560254You linger by the edge for a while longer, but nope. Nothing! Either he’s really patient, really dead, or something else. You glance at your watch (or you would if you had one). He might not have anything to do tonight, but if you get home soon you might be able to squeeze in a few games of Sea of Blood before bed.Oh wait, skeleton invasion. Nothing is sacred to these boney bastards.Ly raises your arms and shoulders in a perfectly-executed shrug. “Whatever kinda shape he’s in now, he ain’t moving’, cupcake.”Oh he’ll move, alright. If there’s one thing you noticed about this guy, it’s that he likes to talk. This silence is probably killing him more than the collapsed catwalk right now. You grin and lean over the edge, doing your best impression of the evil doll from Black Friday. GOOD MOVIE!“I’m coming to eat your boOoOness, mister!” You finish with a cackle worthy of an award. To his credit, King doesn’t get up to rate your performance. You feel Ly’s presence tap you on the… Intangible shoulder?“Didja see it!?”No, there wasn’t a roll for that. See what?“Don’t look now, but I swear I saw that pile move.”You blink, staring down to the pile again. Seriously?“Swear on my bones, cupcake.” Ly says, crossing your heart with your own finger. Well, if he’s swearing on you, kinda, then he might be on to something. You huff. This is taking way too long and you just KNOW they aren’t going to pay you overtime for this crap. Tapping your foot impatiently, you pause as a revelation comes to you. That’s it. Time to preemptively strike back.Ly starts to say something, but stops. You take a few steps back, bend your legs a bit, then adjust your hat one last time. You’re gonna have to come up with a name for this particular move. If you survive, that is.>Roll me a 1d100 to do the tentatively-named ‘EMU LEGS FULL FLYING IMPALE MOVE’! >While we're at it, WRITE-IN a BETTER MOVE NAME TOO!>You get the picture--I’ll pick the best of three!
Rolled 32 (1d100)>>4560290>UNLEASH THE FLYING AUSTRALIAN-IMPALER!They did lose two wars to Emus, Australians are their sworn enemies.
Rolled 33 (1d100)>>4560298This but without the hyphen, because emus are australian
Rolled 75 (1d100)>>4560290
>>4560298>>4560318>>4560335The rolls are in and we appear to have some sort of a move name! Locked in and writing!
>>4560298>>4560318>>4560335You’ve only seen an emu once in your life, and it wasn’t at a zoo. You were still a kid at the time and were playing outside with the stuff you found in your parent’s medicine cabinet. Suddenly, a large bird leaped over your fence, hissed at you, then disappeared into the hedges. Some zookeepers came by to ask questions, but you didn’t say anything. After all, ‘snitches get stitches’.You still got stitches, though, when you told the kids at school you saw a giant bird in your backyard. One of them called you a giant bird, you called him a shitbird, everything goes hazy after that. Anyways, you’ve seen an emu before, and you know what they’re capable of.Which is why you, in mid flight towards the crumpled pile of catwalk and (hopefully) bone, dub this move the FLYING AUSTRALIAN IMPALER--A deadly technique that has never failed! Add one teaspoon of pain for every emu in The Emu War, mix and SERVE!Calling out the name of your move like a hero from one of those Japanese cartoons Gus watches, you bring your knees close to your chest and coil like a spring. Moments before impact, the ruined catwalk burst open revealing a chipped, scuffed, and still somewhat on fire King! With a spit of acid, he thrusts his ABS in your direction, blades spinning like mad!“I’m not dead YET, Janitoooo-”You spin in the air and dodge the catwalk chunks and acid. As you approach ABS range, your rubber-booted feet explode outwards, and with the force of a thousand emus they connect with King’s chest. You both collide with a room-shattering SQUEAK and tumble to the boiler room floor. You roll like a barrel to the side, taking care to avoid any sharp pieces of metal. >CONTD.
>>4560389Coughing, you rise to your feet and brush some of the dirt and soot off of your coveralls. That settles it, you’re definitely getting a HeadCam after this. No one’s going to believe how much cool stuff you did in one night without photographic evidence.The rattle of metal snaps you back to reality. You turn around and lay eyes on King--once a terrifying sight, now a battered shell of what he used to be. With his legs crushed into a fine trail of dust and the fire around his neck reduced to mere embers, the king of the jungle doesn’t look exactly ‘regal’ right now. He inches towards you like a caterpillar, reaching and pulling himself along the ground with one chipped claw. His other claw presses his ABS close to his chest, just barely holding together the shattered remains of his ribcage. You stand there and let him approach. When he gets close enough, he pauses, then slides his ABS across the ground to your feet. You blink. Managing a pained grin, King rolls over on his back and sighs.“I… I think…” He pauses as if trying to catch his breath, “I think I underestimated you… Ms. Parble…”You’ve got THAT right.He lets out a pained chuckle, then pulls the charred nub of his cigar out of his security coat pocket and places it in between his teeth.“I suppose…” He fishes around in another pocket, producing a lighter. Flicking it open, he finds it doesn’t light. With a resigned groan, he lets it drop to the boiler room floor.“I suppose you’re the ‘King’ now… My men will certainly believe it after all of this.”You shrug. Sure, Queen works too. You take King’s ABS from the floor and examine it--the blades are chipped and bent beyond use.“The fight is over and it’s your move, Ms. Parble… Do I die quick? Slow? I hear some skeletons prefer PAINFUL…” He lets out a rueful chuckle. “If you can believe it…”You stand over the ex-King of the Jungle. Good question--how DOES this guy die? As you contemplate the situation, you’re interrupted by a tingling in your skull.“Stan, maybe this guy knows something.”He knows he got his ASS kicked.“Well yea, but what about Tim? And you? And well, everythin’?”Not a bad point. King shoots you an expectant glance--looks like you’ve got him right where you want him.What do? Choose 1 or more!>Ask about his ‘Master’. What’s up with that?>Ask about you. What’s with the whole ‘sacrifice’ thing?>Finish him off.>WRITE-IN
>>4560391>Ask about you. What’s with the whole ‘sacrifice’ thing?We could really use some info right now
>>4560391>Ask about his ‘Master’. What’s up with that?>Ask about you. What’s with the whole ‘sacrifice’ thing?Both!
>>4560391>>Ask about his ‘Master’. What’s up with that?>>Ask about you. What’s with the whole ‘sacrifice’ thing?
>>4560395>>4560429>>4560432Looks like a consensus is forming! Might be a bit of an infodump, though, and I'm falling asleep. I'll extend this until tomorrow--thanks again for participating and good job on the big scrap!
>>4560272Stan a cute.
>>4560272Not BONEY enough fren
>>4560515>>4560569>>4560587She appreciates the compliments and I appreciate this coffee I'm drinking! Time to get some questions answered.>>4560569I've included a more suitable image for you, Anon.
>>4560395>>4560429>>4560432With a huff, you grab a chunk of ex-catwalk and drag it closer to King’s body. He looks confused for a second, but visibly relaxes when you take a seat on it.He gets to die slow. A painful death… by QUESTIONS. King stares you up and down for a moment as if scanning for bugs or wires. You said it before, you’re no snitch!“Of course you aren’t. I, however, might not be as forthcoming as you’d expect.” You rev your ABS a few times, causing King to clear his throat.“What I mean is, I will answer your questions to the best of my ability. However, being discreet about certain things is a small side-effect of my eherm, contract with the master.”Ly pokes the inside of your skull. “Dat means he probably can’t tell us everything even if he wanted to.”Well it’s better than your original plan--you didn’t even think you’d be able to get a word in with these boneheads, much less the king himself. Speaking of, though, you want to know about his boss. What’s up with that anyways?King adjusts his position and clears his nonexistent throat. You can tell this is gonna take a while.“My master is, as you might have already gathered, a sorcerer beyond measure. He wields several schools of wizardry as easily as you hold a mop.”You know how good you are with a mop. This Tim guy is serious business.“Tim?” Scoffs King. “No, his name is Tib-” As he begins to say his name he jolts and locks up like you did that one time you tried to cartwheel over the electric fence. You move to poke him, but just before you do he returns to consciousness.“Ah! That’s… How convenient...” King’s glowing eyes falter for a moment, then point back to your face.“It appears that information falls under his little… ‘Non-disclosure agreement’. I can assure you, however, his skill in the arcane is only matched in his age.”Really? Hard to tell how old bones are. You can cut them open and count the rings, right?“No, dummy. In any case, I can’t go into specifics, but you can already see some of the steps he’s taken to fulfill his DARK PROJECT. From what little he told me, most of this town is under his control now, and I suspect it’s only a matter of time before the world follows.”Shit! I mean California can go, that’s fine with you, but the rest of the world?!“I thought you’d see reason. He’s been planning for a long time, Ms. Parble. But he can still be stopped.”Well that’s good to know, but how? Last time you got acquainted he had you completely outmatched! King draws a zipper over his teeth, then shrugs.“Maybe someone or something else holds the knowledge you seek. All I can say is that his strength lies in his lieutenants…” He pauses, waiting to be locked up again. When nothing happens, he grins.>CONTD.
>>4561112He continues. “Of course, you’d be playing right in his hands if you charged straight into the clutches of his forces. Strong as my men are, I think you’ll find the human undead to be far more… Creative.”“We are pretty special, yea.” Ly pipes. Sure you are. There’s another thing that’s been bugging you, though.King shrugs. “I have all the time in the world, Ms. Parble, as long as you do.”Yea, let’s talk about you. You were at ground zero when Tim started this whole circus--why aren’t YOU clacking around right now?“We are, but it’s hard to hear with all the skin, blood, fa-”Thank you, Ly. King appraises you as if trying to find something noteworthy. He gives up. “Believe me, until now I was asking myself the same question. Shortly after I was created I was tasked with keeping you safe until the master needed you. I asked him why and he said something along the lines of… Hm. What was it… Ah, yes-- “MIND YOUR BONE BUSINESS!”King nods.“Yes, that was it. The master never gifted me with much power, magical or otherwise. I suspect if there IS something special about you, I can’t sense it.”You cross your arms and huff. Bet he thinks you’re pretty special now.“Yes, in fact. Clearly hubris was my downfall--you’ve demonstrated quite a bit of power and poise in reducing me to… This.”King gestures to his missing legs and broken torso.“If I ever get another chance, think I’ll have to limit the theatrics and take things more seriously.”>CONTD.
>>4561149Yea yea, it was very educational--so what about the glowing marrow? The burning bones? Give us SOMETHING!“Yes, that’s what piqued my interest. It’s one thing to defeat me so soundly, of course, but assimilating my leg?”King glances at your legs. Hey, your eyes are up HERE!“Apologies. That ability is certainly not common. I suspect you’ll be using it quite a bit if you want to defeat my master.”Okay, great. Are there limits to it? Are your bones going to get all weird? You’re never gonna get a date with BIRD LEGS. King looks back at your legs again.“I’m no expert, but I think your power doesn’t affect your bones, per se, but the marrow inside. Your bones haven’t grown much, but that might change given time.”How can he be so sure about that?“I’m NOT. Before this I was a hunter on the Serengeti, not an Arcane Osteologist.”Okay, he’s still mad. That reminds you: what about your talking skeleton? King does his best to raise what used to be where his eyebrow was.“Talking skeleton? Are you sure that’s not another one of your… Eccentricities your work file mentioned?”You can’t just keep blaming everything on authenticities! Your skeleton talks to you and helps you--his name is Ly! Don’t call him ‘Lytard’ or you’ll clock him in the mouth!“You tell ‘em, cupcake.”King shifts around a bit, trying to discern whether you’re telling the truth or just being… You.“If your bones are symbiotic, then maybe… Hmm.”Uh, don’t HMM. What were you going to say? King shakes his head.“I’m not sure. Maybe it was a mistake? Or maybe there’s something else at play here.”Fine, we’ll go with one of those for now. As far as you’re concerned, though, Ly isn’t a mistake!“Yes, yes, ‘Go Team’. I’m glad you and your bones have such a wonderful bond.”Okay, no need to be jealous, Kitty. King scoffs, then adds one last thing.“Whatever it is, guard yourself well. You’ve got the full attention of the master for some reason--that’s a far larger enemy than usual for a janitor.”He finishes his sentence with a grin. He might be right, though, the cards aren’t exactly in your favor right now.“Anything else, cupcake?”Good question! What do?>Ask more questions (WRITE-IN)>Finish Him!>Leave him. He’s learned his lesson.>WRITE-IN
Also since I posted it in the general and we're waiting, check out the brand-spanking new OP Image I whipped up! 500 hours in MS Paint and all that, yada yada.
>>4561153>Finish Him!Give us the marrow! But lets at least do it with some dignity, since he had enough respect to add some theatrics to this showdown.
>>4561153>KILL THE LION, EAT THE BONES
>>4561172Looks a bit too busy in the thumbnail size. And he title can't be read.
>>4561176Thanks for the critique--I'll have to fiddle around with it a bit later. Practice makes perfect, right?>>4561174>>4561175I smell a consensus! Looks like King's headed to the big savanna in the sky. Writing!
>>4561174>>4561175Nope, that’s about it. You’re ready to clock out and it looks like King is too. You barely have to stand up before he senses what’s happening.“Ah, that time already? I suppose it is getting rather late. I don’t need it anymore, but when’s the last time you slept, Ms. Parble?”You ponder for a moment. Yea, chances are you’d still be working right now, but all of this Parkour and Fighting is beginning to take its toll. King flashes his teeth.“Rest lightly. My master’s subjects will be hounding you no matter where you run, and they are legion.”King relaxes a bit, stretching his snake tail with a hollow rattling sound.“But to the new King of the Jungle, all predators are prey.”You almost correct him about the whole ‘Queen’ thing, but Ly puts a finger to your mouth.“I know you have no obligation to grant me anything, but if you could…”King opens his mouth and lets the cigar butt roll to the ground next to him.“Make it quick. Slice my skull in twain--once that goes, so does the rest of the thrall. And take the cigar. Consider it a trophy.”Ohh, kinda like zombies.“Yes, of course. Like zombies.” King says, a hint of disgust in his tone. You take a breath, then rev your ABS and raise it over your head.>Any last words to the ex-King of the Jungle?
>>4561207"I'll keep that in mind, but for now. It looks like the Lion sleeps tonight.'
>>4561207>Nah, he was quite helpful so it feels wrong to demean him with a one-liner.
>>4561234>Respect the warrior>>4561219>>4561235>One-linerTo be fair you kinda earned it! Writing!
>>4561219>>4561234>>4561235You exhale. King stares at you, eyes unwavering. You clear your throat and deliver your final words to your opponent:“I’ll keep that in mind. But for now? It looks like the lion sleeps tonight.”“Very matu-”King doesn’t get to finish. You bring the ABS down onto his skull, cracking it in two like a coconut. You stand there for a second watching him, but he doesn’t say anything else. Ly breaks the silence by clearing his throat.“Wow. Gotta be honest, kiddo, didn’t think we had it in us.”It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. You pluck the cigar butt off of the ground and put it in your pocket, the smell already starting to stick to your coveralls. Kinda gross for a trophy, but it’ll do.“Looks like we aren’t finished yet, though. Didn’t he say somethin’ about Lieutenants?”You bet he did. You glance at King’s body and watch it slowly burn away like Terry the Terrible’s did. A last dusting of streamers and confetti from the birthday surprise slowly blanket it, adding to the inferno.Wait, CRAP! THE BONES!You drop to your knees and look for glowing bits. It’s tough amidst the confetti, fire, and other stuff covering him, but you manage to see not one, but TWO suitable bones--King’s RIGHT CLAW AND SNAKE TAIL begin to emit a yellowish glow--proof of the juicy glowing marrow inside! You rev up your ABS, but it doesn’t seem to cut as quickly as it did before--you check the battery readout. Yep, almost out of juice.You make a mental note to find a charger both for your ABS and your phone when you get the chance--lord knows you’ve probably missed some calls. You carve both glowing pieces off, then take them in your hands, careful not to burn yourself on the blue embers of flame slowly devouring them. “Go on, slurp ‘em both!”You don’t need Ly to tell you what to do. You raise both bones to your mouth and devour the marrow. A familiar heat washes over your body, but this time it’s a lot. TOO much. Enough to make you woozy and send you reeling to the floor. You lie there for a moment, wondering if maybe you should have taken your t->CONTD.
>>4561311And then it hits you. Waves of sharp, searing pain radiating to your fingers, head, arms, and legs. You try to concentrate on your thoughts, Ly, anything, but the pain is too much. A burning sensation rips through each one of your teeth and mouth while your fingers feel like they're trying to claw their way out of your hands. You roll over, trying your best not to pass out, but it’s getting a LITTLE HARD NOT TO!“STAN!” Shouts Ly, pain evident in his voice too, “It’s… It’s TOO much! I have to stop somethin’!”Stop WHAT?!“One or the other! It’s gonna tear us apart!”You curl up in a fetal position and look at your hands between spasms of pain and heat. Your gloved fingers pulse with growth--the tips of your gloves strain to contain whatever it is growing in your hands!As you watch, you feel your mouth rearrange--running your tongue over your teeth, you feel something alien in place of your canines. Did they get BIGGER? You go to feel one with your tongue and accidentally brush a pair of thin, pulsating sacks behind the teeth, causing a few drops of foul-smelling liquid to jet out of your fangs. It drips to the floor below you, then eats away at it with a dull hissing. That’s new.“STAN! CHOOSE ONE!!!”You decided to KEEP:>BONE-US: BEAST CLAWS! Climb, cut, carve, cleave--retractable, but sharp! >BONE-US: SNAKE BITE! Longer fangs and a nasty acidic cocktail to spit and bite with! Don’t worry, you’re safe from the burns!
>>4561315>BONE-US: BEAST CLAWS! Climb, cut, carve, cleave--retractable, but sharp!While I really love poison and fangs and such, we can use the claws for a lot more mobility and become a PARKOUR MASTER!
>>4561315>BONE-US: BEAST CLAWS! Climb, cut, carve, cleave--retractable, but sharp!
>>4561319>>4561335Sorry, had to take care of something for work. Looks like you guys chose a CLAWsome new power, though! Writing!
>>4561319>>4561335For a moment you consider the acid and the fangs. I mean yea, who wouldn’t want the ability to spit acid everywhere? But what happens when all of this is over and you totally score a date? Acid spit isn’t exactly conducive to your love life, no sir. Moreover, how do they expect you to brush your teeth or chew snacks? Yea, no thank you. You relay the info to Ly in between bouts of excruciating pain, and with a nod you feel the pain in your teeth, head, arms, and hands slowly grind to a halt. You take a deep breath, waiting a moment for it to start again, but it doesn’t! Go Team!“Phew… That… That got outta hand, Stan.”You can say THAT again. Speaking of hand…You glance at your gloved hands. Aside from a little bit of wear on your glove’s fingertips, things seem pretty okay! Why, then, do your fingers feel so darn weird? Ly feels you looking at your hands and starts moving your fingers around.“Ohh, uh. Right. You’re new to this. Let’s see, try flexing like…. This.”You feel something trigger inside your hands, then explode! The tips of your gloves tear instantaneously as your fingernails shoot out, turning your hands into a collection of sharp blades! You swish them around a bit, admiring the ‘woosh’ing noises they create. Tough, yet aerodynamic! Satisfied with speed, you then use one to poke your cheek, which immediately draws blood on contact. Ow. Also, neat!You try out a few hand gestures in an attempt to put them back, but nothing works. Ly sighs and moves your hands a bit to help you find the ‘spring’ once more. Like Swiss Army Knives, the blades retract neatly into your fingers.“No more looking for a can opener, that’s for sure.” Ly quips.No kidding.>CONTD.
>>4561495Content with your new handy ability, you remember your other almost power! Idly poking at your teeth you find that while they aren’t snakelike anymore, one of your canines remained slightly bigger. Well, it could be worse. They say having a snaggletooth is in now!“Really?” Ly inquires.No, not really. What a disaster today has been. At least it doesn’t hurt anymore. In fact, now that all of that is done, you feel pretty good--almost as good as when you picked up that cool leg marrow!“Looks like we’re gonna have to be a bit more careful with how much marrow we eat in the future, cupcake.”You nod. Maybe it was because you tried to eat two different types at once? Guess you’ve gotta pace yourself in the future. Brushing yourself off and rising back to your feet, you glance down where King’s bones were. All that remains is a thin pile of bone dust and a LARGE pile of catwalk, confetti, and streamers.You glance down at your ABS again, frowning at the LOW BATTERY indicator. Well, it did what it could. You stow it on your tool belt and wipe the sweat off of the back of your neck. After all of that action the boiler room seems… Quiet. You feel a tapping inside your skull.“So, cupcake… Where to now? We still blowing dis’ place, or?”Good question. King’s dead, sure, but who knows if Tim will come back and use all of those bones to make an even beefier goon? Then again, ‘blew up place of employment’ isn’t going to sound good in your performance review. Kiss that bonus goodbye too!You glance at your old pal Boiler A.But how would they prove it?“Whether you decide to commit domestic terrorism or not, we gotta get goin’.”What do you do?>Sabotage the boiler. Screw this place and all the bones inside it!>Leave the boiler. >WRITE-IN
>>4561500>Leave the boiler. The explosion just gives away our location, right? We gotta be sneaky, like a ninja. Ninjas do parkour, right?
>>4561521Let’s get one thing straight here: you’re not a huge fan of your job. You could be working a crime scene right now, or creating a crime scene. Or pole dancing in one. Point is, you have options, but you’ve got a job to do, damn it, and part of that job involves NOT blowing up your workplace. So no, Ly, we aren’t gonna do that. Besides, the building will probably blow up on its own given all of the bandages management slaps on it.In fact, you’d bet all 67 cents in your wallet that they haven’t even tried to fix it! Here, Ly, let’s check it ou-“That’s okay! That’s fine, cupcake--I believe ya! Hey, tell ya what, let’s not even look at it.”Party pooper. Anyways, we’re going to do something better than blowing work up. We’re going to leave.EARLY.“I uh, I think that’s okay given the current situation, Stan.”You didn’t finish! Even better, we’re going to leave without alerting ANYONE. Ghost run, baby! Just like in Frigid Blades 2: Code of Serpent.Ly pauses, contemplating your words.“Dat’s the ninja game you play with the beefy guy in the tight suit, right? You’re always lookin’ up pictures of him on the internet too--”Not important! Your point is, you’re going to channel your inner ninja and leave with a zero detection rate. What’s cooler than that? You start off in the direction of the exit, opening the doors as quiet as you can. No one there, good. You’d hate to have to snap a neck or two.“I hate to break it to ya, cupcake, but I think you were detected when you escaped, fought a turkey, and killed their boss.”It’s an unorthodox approach, you’ll give him that, but here’s the thing: everyone who saw you is dead. That means you’re still being sneaky. Ly shuts up after that. Got him! You continue back the way you came down the steam tunnels, creeping along in the shadows as best you can while Ly hums a theme from Frigid Blades. >CONTD.
>>4561575By the time you reach the room where you fought Terry the Terrible (RIP), Ly has already gone through most of the game’s OST. You’ve gotta admit, he’s got a much better memory than you thought. Ly shrugs.“Not much else to do when you can’t talk and your owner spends her days in front of a TV or computer.”Yea, is that a problem? “I mean, your heart won’t stop complaining to me about you not getting any exercise, and lord knows you need i-”Whoops, time to describe the room!“We’ve already been here, please don’t try to ignore m-”The room is about as messy as you left it after your fight--pipes litter the damp floor, steam lingers in the air, and the control room window is still spidered from having a turkey skull fly through it. The steam tunnels continue ahead and theoretically lead back to THE DROP. You know, where you did that sick Parkour to get down? Maybe there’s a way out through there?You look around again. Oh, there’s also that ladder leading upwards. Maybe that could get you out of here too? You don’t see any light or anything, but according to your Blackberry it’s just about 4:42am--The sun definitely hasn’t come out yet.Wait a minute, 4:42!? You KNEW it. You have to get out of here now, you’re staying at work WAY longer than you need to, skeleton invasion or not. You’ve got to get home, charge your phone, play some Sea of Blood... Oh right, and locate your friends and family. And probably shower.You’ve got shit to do!That shit is put on hold, however, when you hear the clacking of feet on the damp floor ahead of you. Sounds like two sets!“Or one guy with four feet!” Ly whispers.However many feet they have, this is a deal right here. You can try parlaying with them using that cigar butt King gave you--maybe they’ll just let you out of here. Or make you their QUEEN! Sweet!Then again, you did get some new tricks from King, too. This might be a good time to test your new claws now that your ABS is almost outta juice.“What about your ‘ghost run’?” Ly asks.Yea, that too. There are a few corners to duck into here, even more now that you have CLAWS! Man, that’s a lot of options. Sometimes you even surprise yourself at how many you come up with.What do?>Flag them down, let’s communicate!>Test out your new toys. FIGHT!>Let’s Play Bones Quest Part 32--Any % Ghost Run>WRITE-IN
Rolled 59 (1d100)>>4561576>“I mean, your heart won’t stop complaining to me about you not getting any exercise, and lord knows you need i-”Hey, that's unfair to us! We've started practicing LE PARKOUR after all...>Let’s Play Bones Quest Part 32--Any % Ghost Run>Try to find a cardboard box somewhere. It worked in the game and the skeletons are pretty stupid...
>>4561576>Let’s Play Bones Quest Part 32--Any % Ghost Run
>>4561575So wait, we just sneaked our ass all the way to the boiler room. Fought a boss, and then just decided to walk away instead of doing anything we were planning on doing because one guy made a dumb vote? Fuck.
>>4562388Bones Quest is all about subverting expectations! Keeps people on the edge of their seats!Seriously though, to his credit the situation had changed--there are definitely some arguments to be made about still blowing the place up, but now that the big bad is gone, who knows? You do bring a fair point to the table, though, and I think in the interest of fairness I'll just wait longer in the future when we have one vote given how slow /qst/ can get at certain times. As for the boiler, let's just say that window of opportunity hasn't closed yet. I have one more thing to finish for work, but I'll check in afterwards and continue writing after that. Thanks for the feedback and for participating!On an unrelated note, John Carpenter released a new song and I'm totally thinking BONES QUEST as I listen to it.https://youtu.be/3Ic0Xdpwhl4Will check in once I'm done with work!
>>4561757 Won't count this roll>>4561758>>4561770You’d be lying if you said you weren’t into becoming the Queen of the Jungle of the Damned, but there’s no telling how these guys would react to their leader being deader than disco.Sure, they might be happy, but wouldn’t that make you next on the menu? Isn’t that how animal kingdom succession works or whatever?In any case, you’d rather not risk it unless you have to. Same with your new claws. Nope, ghost run is ON! “Ghost ruuuuuuuun.” Ly chimes in. A little enthusiasm never killed anyone!You quickly scan the room for a suitable hiding place. Your gaming experience tells you that ceilings can be pretty sneaky, as is tall grass and large patches of shadow. No sign of any plant matter, though, and you’re not about to install any sod down here--it doesn’t matter what any misprinted caps say, you’re an Evening Sanitation Coordinator, not an Evening Seed Cultivator! The clacking sounds grow closer! You’ve got to think here--any boxes? Crates? Barrels? There ARE a few barrels in the corner along with a few large traffic cones. There’s also that catwalk, the ladder, oh--AND a pile of pipes! There’s also that control room, but who knows if they’re headed there or not. You take another glance at your feet while you’re at it. “That water’s too shallow, cupcake. Nice effort, though.”Shit, there’s no time! You’ve got to HIDE!>Roll 1d100 to find a sick hiding spot, I’ll take the best of 3! BONE-USES will be applied if you get creative!
Rolled 19 (1d100)>>4562510
Rolled 26 (1d100)>>4562510
Rolled 86 (1d100)>>4562510>>Roll 1d100 to find a sick hiding spot, I’ll take the best of 3! BONE-USES will be applied if you get creative!
>>4562512>>4562587>>4562599Yep, those look like three rolls to me! Writing!
>>4562512>>4562587>>4562599Let’s be honest, you got really freakin’ lucky last time when you escaped your cell by hiding next to the door. REALLY lucky. This time, though? You’ll be honest, you’re pretty damn proud of yourself. The sources of the clacking finally reveal themselves--one of them a three-legged skeleton with a bear skull and an ABS swinging in his claw, the other some sort of rodent with a snake tail and some sort of pipe/ABS combo. Damn, you were close!“I’m not even sure if that counts as four legs, to be honest.” Ly mutters.It’s okay, you’ll give him the win this time. You watch the two of them like a hawk from your vantage point, your muscles and bones frozen in place like a gargoyle. The bear idly splashes some water around with his feet, clearly waiting for something to happen. “You really tink she’s down ‘ere?” The rodent squeaks. His counterpart shrugs.“D’you see those catwalks we passed back there? My guess is she tried to jump on one, missed, and is now rottin’ in a drainage pipe somewhere. King’s bein’ paranoid.”The bear swings his ABS a few times.“‘Sides, I heard from Henry the master’s sending some sort of specialist to take over the hunt. Some sort of human hybrid skeleton. Way I see it, if she ain’t dead yet, someone else is gonna take care of it.”Specialist? That’s a little excessive, isn’t it? You’ve barely gained any neat abilities yet and now you have to deal with a Specialist?! “I heard dat too,” says the rodent face. “Benny and his guys by the lobby said they was gonna get a dice game goin’ in the offices--no one thinks she’s around anymore.”“Maybe, maybe not.” The bear skull responds, idly scratching his spine with the ABS. “Terry was pretty convinced she was down here, and I haven’t seen that loudmouth in hours.”A drop of condensation plummets onto your hiding place, causing the two skeletons to pause and glance your way. You slip back into stealth mode and force your whole body to freeze--Quit narrating for a second!You hear boney footsteps approach along with the whirring of the ABS. Ly helps you stay still, but it isn’t easy! This isn’t how you anticipated the GHOST RUN to go!After tonight’s longest moment of silence yet, you hear the ABS stop.“Forget it, it’s a freakin’ traffic cone. Let’s get outta here before we start growin’ mold.”You hear the feet and the… Tail, move away, then the sound of bone clanking against metal. The ladder? You hang around a little longer until you’re SURE they’re gone, then pop out from under the large traffic cone.“Gotta say, cupcake, that coulda gone a whole lot worse.” Ly croons.>CONTD.
>>4562711Hey, don’t jinx it! Things just got even crazier, anyways. “Yea, that thing they mentioned about the specialist? You think that’s real?”About as real as anything else that happened tonight. That doesn’t matter, though--it’s time to kick this escape plan into high gear. Ly borrows your body to adopt a thinking pose.“Call me cynical, but I don’t think we’re climbing up that one chamber again.”I mean, you totally COULD with your Parkour and claws, but you are getting a bit tired. Besides, there are easier ways out of here. “Such as?”Well, there’s that ladder those two just went up. You’re pretty sure it goes back into the factory. A bit risky, but so’s this whole damn situation.There’s also The Drop. You could climb it back to the junction in the vents, but you’re pretty sure there are drains that lead outside too. If you had a nickel for every possum and deer carcass you had to pull out of there…There’s also the boiler room again.“I don’t wanna HEAR about that darn boiler room, Stan.”Just hear me out! King probably got in there through some door or something you didn’t notice! Maybe that’s the key!“... You just want to blow this place up, don’t you? You heard about this ‘specialist’ and now you’re freaking out.”You are NOT freaking out, it’s just strategy 101! It’s still a GHOST RUN if no one who could identify you survives…Ly borrows your arms and shrugs. “One second you’re against it, the next… Whatever. You’re the one runnin’ this show, I’ll support whatever the hell you do.”Groovy. Guess it’s on you again. As usual.What’s the plan?>Back to the boiler room! Let’s make one hell of a distraction!>That ladder looks promising!>The Drop, the drainage pipes, and freedom!>Let’s climb The Drop. Onward to freedom with your new claws!>WRITE-IN
>>4562713>The Drop, the drainage pipes, and freedom!
>>4562762>>4562850We're back and we're writing--looks like the drain wins this time!
>Remembered my damn TRIP this time.>>4562762>>4562850Well clearly Ly isn’t sold on the boiler idea any more, so it’s time to pivot and come up with a new idea before he gets annoyed again. You run through your previous ideas again in your head, weighing the pros and cons of each. You can probably count how many building explosions you’ve seen in your life on one hand. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but it would probably be ruined by you getting caught in the blast or getting fired. Buzzkill. The jury’s still out on whether or not there was a secret passageway in there, too, so you’d probably have to come back this way anywho.As for the ladder.... You’re just not feeling it! You already did such a good job avoiding those goons, why bother risking your GHOST RUN by running into them again? Hell, that ladder probably doesn’t even lead outside. It probably goes to DISPOSAL or something, and good luck getting the smell off of your clothes if you decide to hit THAT hellhole up.No, the clear best decision is The Drop. While you wouldn’t mind showing off your Parkour skills to Ly again, you’re starting to feel the effects of running from and/or fighting skeletons all night. Even worse, you’re pretty sure you aren’t hitting the sack once you get outta here.“So the best bet is the drainage pipes, huh?” Ly queries.Sure, if you like pipes clogged with dead animals which, for the record, you’re not crazy about.“It’s probably the fastest way out, cupcake. Think about it--it’s draining water outta here.”Yep. “You don’t exactly sound thrilled.”You’re not, but that can wait. With one last glance at the ladder for any signs of skeletons, you creep back into the steam tunnels where y-OWWWW GOD DAMN IT!“Watch out for that harmless steam, Stan.”Shut up.>CONTD.
>>4563394Compared to your last trip through, the path back to The Drop was pretty clear, aside from the steam. Not like it gave you a problem, of course! There’s just a lot of it in here! You emerge where you landed after your last big Parkour demonstration--a platform overlooking the bottom of The Drop. You look downwards at the large set up of pumps in the middle of the pit and whistle. Man, glad you didn’t decide to ‘cannonball’ here.“Yea, me too.”Glad that’s settled. You look around the pumps and sigh--a large pool of water surrounds the pump system and trails off into several different pipes--all grated off save for one rusty individual. A service walk spans the diameter of the pool, but aside from a few dim service lights, you get the feeling they don’t really want people going into these pipes.“As long as we’re careful we should be able to find a quick way outta here.” Ly reassures you.Yea, tell that to all of the dead deer you’ve had to fish out in the past from the other drainage pipes. You’ve never even explored this one--who knows what’s down there? You pause, glaring at the pipe like a dog watching a vacuum cleaner.“Stan… You’re not uh… You’re not scared, are you?”No, your back just hurts! Give me a minute!That’s what you say, but what are you thinking?>I’m thinking that my back hurts. That’s it. Get out of my head.>Alright, alright--I’m not a huge fan of water. Or swimming. >Alright, alright--I’m a little concerned about sewer mutants.>WRITE-IN
>>4563397>Alright, alright--I’m a little concerned about sewer mutants.You never know man, those mutants
>>4563397>Alright, alright--I’m a little concerned about sewer mutants.
>>4563453>>4563460Locked in! Forgot to mention I was writing, so enjoy an update very soon!
>>4563453>>4563460Maybe it was a minute, maybe it was an hour, but you spent a while staring at those pipes. Long enough for Ly to take control and shake you back to reality.“Stan. It’s not your back, is it?” He says, his voice laced with what you think is genuine concern.You sigh. He’s your skeleton--again, kinda weird that he sounds like a male mobster, but he’s yours. If you have to open up to anyone, it might as well be him. You take a seat on the concrete platform and take your cap in your hands, wringing it as if a proper explanation will fall out.There’s no easy way to explain it, so you just go for it. Here goes.Ly… You start, thankful that you don’t have to make eye contact with your own skeleton.“Yea, Stan?”You’re… You’re a little concerned about.... You pause again. You’ve never really opened up like this to anyone before aside from your bro.“Concerned about what, kiddo?” Ly says in as calm of a voice as he can muster. Now or never.You’re a little concerned about the pipes.“What about them?” Shit, he didn’t drop it.You’re a little concerned about, you know… the sewer mutants.Ly pauses, digesting what you said. This… This opening up thing feels kinda good. Maybe you should let more people in-“Stan, are you fucking kidding me?”What’s there to kid about? Haven’t you been serious this whole evening?!“Yes, unfortunately. I was hoping we would have gotten to the ‘occasional joke’ part of our friendship by now.”Well, not for a while. And it’s a big deal! The mole people? Disappearances in communities near sewage treatment plants? Those videos on MeTube? Hell, your own aunt was taken by one of those things, it doesn’t get any more real than tha-“Stan, stop being stupid for a second--who told you your aunt was kidnapped by mutants?”It was your dad, so wha....God damn it. God damn it. That guy is going into the shittiest old folk’s home you can find, if he’s LUCKY.“Stan, your aunt divorced your uncle. And sewer mutants aren’t real--it’s a story to keep people out of those places. It’s a myth. Kinda like Santa.”Wait, what?“Nothing. Listen, to your credit we all have uh… Fears… But by conquering those fears we grow, right?”You shrug. Maybe.“Course, maybe. Listen, let’s just just get out of here and we can worry about all of this later. We’ve got more tangible stuff to worry about now.”You nod. He’s right. Plus the chance of mutants being down here is slim, at best--they like to congregate near population centers--easier prey there.“I'm so relieved. Can we go in the pipes now?”Of course! Nothing to worry about if there’s no mutants in there! Thanks, Ly.“Well there’s still other…” Ly starts. “Nah, you’re welcome, kiddo.”You place your cap back on your head and clamber down a nearby service ladder to the pool below.>CONTD.
>>4563533The maintenance walkway creaks as your boots touch down on it. This catwalk appears a bit sturdier than the ones above, but you can never be too sure. You stroll along the edge of the pool whistling a tune and glancing at the water below you. Surprisingly clear, all things considered! Hey, maybe it’s warm enough to--“No.” Ly states, not as a command, but as a fact.Figures coming from the guy who isn’t covered in sweat and dust. You roll your eyes and walk over to the pipe with the rusted entrance--its grate creaking under the flow of the water. Peering inside you don’t see much, save for an inky blackness divided every couple of feet by dim work lights. Nice of them to put those where no one’s supposed to go.You mind your head as you clamber over the remains of the grate and land with a SPLASH in the water. Nevermind about the swimming, this stuff is COLD! Doesn’t help that it’s up to your wais-Wait, SHIT!You fumble for your pockets and retrieve your still-dead phone, now with the added bonus of being SOAKED ON THE BOTTOM! AAAAH!“STAN, CALM DOWN!”RIIIIIICE! YOU NEED RICE! YOU NEED TO PUT IT IN A BAG OF RICE, WHERE’S SOME RI-Ly borrows a hand and slaps you across the face, yanking you back into reality. You breathe for a moment, then look at your phone again. It’s still pretty wet…“You won’t know until we plug it in, Stan--just keep it in an upper pocket or something until we get outta here.”Easy for him to say. Your pictures and game data better be alright…You wade forward through the darkness, grumbling to yourself as your TELESCOPING MOP, ABS, and the rest of your items jostle against you in the current. Now that you’re submerged, though, it does feel kinda good after that humid shithole that was the Steam Tunnels. Before long your pipe opens up into some sort of collection basin--the water murky with dirt, dust, and god knows what else what. Beyond the stagnant stench of grim and dead leaves, however, you smell, then feel, something else. Something almost like…“A breeze!” Ly beats you to the punch. It’s true, though--blowing from ahead of you across the basin! With newfound motivation you wade forwards, pushing aside dead leaves, pinecones, and the occasional deer carcass. You’re about halfway through when your foot hits a snag. You can’t see it, but whatever it is has a strong grip. As you try to tug it free, you see a clump of green rise from the water next to you! SEWER MUTANT! LY, YOU BASTARD! QUICK, DO SOMETHING!>Hit it with the ABS!>Use your new claws!>The mop! Use the mop!>WRITE-IN
>>4563539>Hit it with the ABS!
>>4563539>The mop! Use the mop!JANITORIAL COMBAT!
>>4563594I would be very nervous of using the ABS right now, something tells me its got a low battery life. And wading through this water probably hasn't helped a bit. Sorry for the double post.
>>4563607>>4563594Yea fair point. I’ll switch to mop combat since it makes more sense in a wet environment anyways.
>>4563539>The mop! Use the mop!What else would you use to fight a sewer mutant than a cleaning implement
>>4563594ABS>>4563603>>4563615>>4563633Mop!I smell an idea! Writing!
>>4563594>>4563603>>4563615>>4563633In a fit of primal fear and rage, you rip your TELESCOPING MOP from your side and extend it with a spin above your head! With all of your might you bring the mop down on the green lump--the aluminum shaft connecting with a loud SPLUNK!And then nothing.You SPLUNK it a few times, but the attack never comes. In fact, your foot feels free right now. Shaking your rubber boot, you recoil as a mass of roots rises from the murky depths, revealing the source of your assailant. You freeze in place for a while, watching the plant matter drift around on the surface. Ly, taking in the whole situation, begins chuckling.Yea, he’d be busting a seam if it was the real thing. You remind yourself to show him the articles you saved when you get home. IF you get home.“Sorry! Sorry… Okay, I’m back.” Ly wheezes in between laughs.Last time you ever open up to him, that’s for damn sure.“Ahh…. Full disclosure, Stan, I had an inkling it was the mutant thing.”Wait, wha? How?“Your nervous system likes to gossip.”Judas. Those nerves are getting on your nerves. You’re gonna get good and drunk when this is over, like SUPER blackout drunk. That’ll learn ‘em.“Anyways, shall we?” Ly asks, pointing your feet in the direction of the breeze.You bet. Feels like it’s been forever since you went outside-That’s when you feel the bone poke your back.>Let’s see some rolls! 1d100s! Best of 3! You know the drill!>CONTD.
>>4563714Wait, wait, stop, damn it. It’s just another deer carcass. You grab the antler in question that poked you and use it to shove the corpse away. Grody. They really gotta drain these out of here.“Hey, at least that means there’s a way they’re getting in. That’s probably our exit!”Hey, yea! That’s a pretty good point. Checking one last time for any lingering corpses or mutants, you wade in the direction you feel the breeze coming from. Sure enough, the pipe gets drier and the breeze gets stronger! As you turn the corner of the large pipe, you finally come face to face with… A wall!Just kidding. The outdoors! The rocks! The trees! The… Extreme darkness! You squint, trying to get a better view, but all you can see is the pipe you came from, the rusty remains of an ancient cover of said pipe, and the tips of redwoods outlined by the starry sky ahead of you. You glance at your COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY and grin--5:22am. Man, you’re bushed.“What now?” Ly pipes, doing his best to get a glimpse of the surroundings.Give it a second, let’s just take it all in!>CONTD.
>>4563715Achievement Unlocked: Home Trees, Boys!Okay, that was enough. You shake some residual dampness off of you, then survey your surroundings. The pipe you emerged from seems to have been built into a hill--looking upwards you can’t see much besides more trees, but maybe heading towards where you came from will get you back to the road?Your gaze returns to the view in front of you. The hill continues downward into an inky void underneath a vast valley of trees. The ground below you is muddy from runoff and the storm earlier--might make things tough to climb up or down.Or it WOULD if you weren’t a Parkour MASTER!“Don’t forget those claws!” Ly states. Those too.Hey, that gives you an idea too! Why don’t you just do what the pioneers did and climb a tree? You’ll find your way home in no time!“Might not be a bad idea. Is it darker than usual, or is it just me?”It is early morning, but now that you mention it… Yea. Do you smell smoke?What do?>Climb the hill behind you towards the factory!>Head down the hill into the woods!>Climb a nearby tree and get the lay of the land!>WRITE-IN
Rolled 66 (1d100)>>4563714>>Let’s see some rolls! 1d100s! Best of 3! You know the drill!>Climb a nearby tree and get the lay of the land!Lets figure out whats going on, we kinda have zero plan anymore so we should figure something out.
>>4563717>Climb a nearby tree and get the lay of the land!
>>4563728>>4563748Sounds like a plan to me! I'm gonna write up the last update of the night, then I'll see you all tomorrow. Congrats are in order--Part 1 is almost complete!
>>4563728>>4563748You approach the closest tree you can find and look upwards, barely spying the branches covered in evergreen needles against the dark sky. With a sigh, you adjust your gloves to avoid any further damage, then try to find the ‘spring’ for your gift from King--your retractable bone claws. After a few brief moments of fiddling with hand poses, you find it--your beast claws explode outwards from your nails, barely avoiding taking your hat and the top of your head off.You’re gonna have to get used to that.Thankfully the climb upwards is as easy as one two. At first you make your way slowly upwards by stabbing your nails into the trunk of the tree, but you soon find that as long as you ‘rake’ the side, your nails are strong enough to get a grip on the tree beneath the bark. Like grabbing handfuls of blanket you make your way upwards, your cap protecting you from most of the lingering drops on the tree’s needles. Needless to say the redwood tree is pretty tall--for a moment you consider getting materials for a tree-fort, but stop when your eyes catch a glimpse of the distant town of Clearwater. Your town, unfortunately. At first glance it looks relatively normal--lights glimmer and glow in the streets and the sky and a faint sliver of moonlight reflects off of the nearby Pacific coast, its waters missing the usual signs of boats or other craft. It takes you a moment to notice, but those lights seem much larger than usual. Aaaand they seem to be producing much more smoke.These gender reveal parties, huh Ly?“I don’t think so, cupcake. Look closer.”Large plumes of smoke rise into the night sky, masking the view of the stars and the moon with a crimson sheet of clouds. What you thought were planes dip and dive through the air like birds, swooping downwards every now and then like seabirds hunting for fish. You dislodge your nails from the tree to cup your ear--when you concentrate you can hear the faint, but growing sounds of gunshots, sirens, and other sounds you can’t place. Granted, the gunshots and sirens aren’t out of the ordinary, especially at this time of night, but given everything that’s happened tonight you wouldn’t exactly chalk it up as ‘normalcy’.The creme de la creme, however, isn’t what’s in front of you--it’s what’s ABOVE. You almost don’t catch it against the hellish night sky, but once you see it you can’t look away--a flying castle crackling with bolts of multicolored lightning. Just staring at the thing makes you feel anxious--Man, it’s like something out of a Skullfuch album cover. Ly cranes your neck forward for a better look, then lets out a low whistle.“Looks like Tim has been busy.”Yea, you’re definitely not getting that overtime.>CONTD.
>>4563780You take stock of your surroundings before you head back down. Looks like there’s a road if you continue up the hill--it connects to Good Boy Doggie Bones, yea, but heading the other way leads you back to Clearwater proper. Shame your bus isn’t running--you’re not so sure those truck-driving skeletons you saw when you escaped will be too keen on hitchhikers and what kind of loser WALKS home in California?Down the hill leads into the forest--something resembling a survival instinct tells you you shouldn’t be wandering through there at night, but these are clearly extraordinary circumstances. Moreover, you can see the faint movement of a creek heading towards town--you’re pretty sure that can lead you to familiar roads!You stay stuck in the tree for a moment, barely stifling a yawn. Ly trembles for a moment, then addresses you.“You uh… You look like you could use a bit of sleep there, kid.”I mean, that marrow pepped you up a little bit, but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t use a few Z’s. Hard to think about sleep during the SKELETON APOCALYPSE, though.“Yea, you’ve got a point there. The question is, are things safer during the day? The sun’s almost up, yea?”Should be up in an hour or so, yea.“Well it’s up to you--I’ll rally as long as you need me to.”That’s the spirit, Ly. But what’s the plan? Do you have time to do any of this crap? Should you head home, or the hills?What do?>Head for the road! Maybe we can ‘borrow’ a car? Or walk, I guess. >Let’s hit up the woods. Surely there’s nothing worse than skeletons in there!>Screw it, let’s nap until morning. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.>WRITE-IN
>>4563783>Screw it, let’s nap until morning. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.Right here in the tree.
>>4563783>Screw it, let’s nap until morning. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.Lets get cozy and then see about hitching various rides tomorrow. I wonder if we can get bird bones and then like, reduce our weight a ton and just jump super fucking high.
>>4563853Now you're thinking with BONES, anon!>>4563834Let's talk housekeeping, though--This feels like the beginning of a new chapter, but we're also only on page 6. Should I go ahead and bust out a new thread, or should we keep going until we get to 8 or 9? I don't want to spam the Catalogue!As for voting, I'll keep this open and check in when I get off of work around 12AM UTC. Thanks again for the patience and participation--you guys are the REAL Evening Sanitation Coordinators!
>>4564185Half the catalogue consists of dessicated corpses of dead quests, some abandoned by their creators in their prime like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, others almost stillborn abominations, whose first cry was also their death rattle.Tl.;dr: you won't bump anything valuable off the board, and this does look like a good break point. Though I personally would leave on a cliffhanger.
>>4564195Thanks for the advice! I'll probably start a new one after one last update later on today.
>>4563783>Screw it, let’s nap until morning. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.
>>4563834>>4563853>>4564323Time to rest your bones! Writing.
>>4563834>>4563853>>4564323As you mull the ideas over in your head, you feel your eyelids get heavier. Like a ping pong game you and your body go back and forth opening them, then closing them--neither of you able to make any headway. You frown. Looks like that marrow’s wearing off and all of the Parkour, combat, and cleaning is finally getting to you. This is new, though--usually you’re passed out in your desk chair by now several beers deep. This time you’re just… Tired. Ignoring your body’s protests, you climb higher looking for a larger branch wide enough to park yourself on--finding a suitable candidate near the top of the tree. As you pull yourself onto your temporary bed and stretch your legs out, you glance one last time at the rapidly-decaying situation before you. Part of you feels like you should be moving right now, but…I mean, it’s not like things are going to get any worse or better if you rest your eyes, right?The answer never comes. Maybe you hit the most comfortable angle on the tree or maybe you’re just damn tired, but shortly after getting settled you feel the fires, sirens, and flying castles fade away from your consciousness. You mutter the first chunk of “Good night, Ly” before drifting off.Goodbye reality,Hello Dream World.>Where do you find yourself tonight? WRITE-IN details or leave blank for a random choice!>A memory >A good dream! >A NIGHTMARE!>Somewhere or something else (WRITE-IN)
Rolled 3 (1d3)>>4564665
>>4564709>>4564746You guys can't let Stan have anything nice, can you? Writing!
>>4564709>>4564746You’re swimming. Well, trying to, anyways. You’re up to your neck in water, pitch black and stormy, and it continues for miles every way you look. No sun, no lights, nothing but dark, rolling waves, just calm enough to let you bob in place like an apple. You glance backwards, then to your sides. Water laps at your face, stinging your eyes with salt and cold.Which way were you going, again? Why? Is there something you’re headed for? Must be, but you just can’t remember. The only thing you DO know is,You need to get out of the water.You start paddling forward. Maybe that’s where you were headed. It doesn’t matter at this point, all you know is that this is where you shouldn’t be right now. You feel bubbles brush against your leg. You strain your eyes between strokes to get a glimpse of what’s below you, but you only see blackness, and it keeps on going below you forever.>Roll 1d100 to swim. Best of three, you think.
>>4564846Heading to bed, but I'll check in on this tomorrow at the usual 12AM UTC time. Sorry for the short updates!
Rolled 83 (1d100)>>4564846
>>4564846>Roll 1d100 to swim. Best of three, you think.
Rolled 2 (1d100)>>4564941oh god I failed my roll, shame upon me and my family
>>4564943I should have just accepted the failed roll
Rolled 46 (1d100)>>4564846Work those hairy muscular arms Stan!
>>4564943You pissed off Dicelor, The Terror of a Dozen Faces.>>4564935>>4564943>>4564951Guess what? I can write a slightly earlier update than usual! Writing!
>>4564935>>4564943>>4564951Swim. Just SWIM! That’s all you need to do--no sense sweating the small details here. Paddling and kicking as fast as you can, you push the thought of the abyss beneath you out of your mind--don’t think, don’t even NARRATE.SWIM!Okay, let’s narrate a little bit. In between strokes you glance forwards looking for something--ANYTHING! At this point a floating door would be enough--no sharing, either. You continue for what feels like minutes, but no matter how much you swim, nothing show up on the horizon. Or anyone, for that matter.How the hell did you end up here anyways?The water grows frigid and choppier. You jolt forward to escape the cold, but it’s too late--you’re just so sluggish! You kick as fast as you can in your coveralls and boots, but you aren’t making any progress! You NEED to get out of the water!As you raise your head to the side for a breath, your ear dips underwater and picks up a noise. Low, distant, but THERE.Growing.You freeze. Should you stop? Should you keep going? You don’t know where to go! Where’s Ly, he could point you in the right direction…As you wrack your mind for a solution, a plan, ANYTHING, the low hum below you grows to a low rumble--slowly but surely you feel the water around your body vibrate.Something’s coming.You glance downwards. Out of the blackness below comes a shape. The rumble becomes a roar.Then light.>CONTD.
>>4565595You let out a panicked yelp and lash out with your arms and feet, but they connect with nothing. You’re floating in place! You can’t move! You’re-“STAN! STANLEY, JESUS, TAKE IT EASY!”You open your eyes and find yourself staring at the ground far below you--the smell of ash and fire caressing your nostrils. Looking backwards you notice your tool belt fastened to the redwood branch you slept in--without it you’d probably be sleeping much later.You know… Permanently. Shit, you’re high up.You hang there for a moment, letting the cold sweat brought on by your nightmare drip off of your face and down to the forest floor below. “Holy cow, kid. Glad I decided to lock you in--you were thrashing around the whole night up here. I thought you were gonna be out like a light!”So did you. Whoever’s in charge of your sleep scheduled programming has a sick sense of humor, giving you a nightmare like that!“Nightmares, huh? Wanna share?”You rub the sleep from your eyes, yawning as you go. Why don’t you ask your best friend THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, Ly? Since you’re so buddy-buddy.“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask…”Nevermind, you just haven’t had your coffee yet. Which reminds you--You scan the environment from your perch.Where the hell ARE you?“More importantly…” Ly says, voice wavering.He points your head downwards, towards the bottom of the tree.“What the hell are those??”It takes your sleep-addled eyes a moment to see them, but when they do you can’t look away:A newly-charred deer corpse fused to the ground next to the drainage pipe you emerged from...And indentations in the mud from the biggest boots you’ve ever seen. You and Ly hang there quietly for a moment as if their owner would reveal themselves. Nothing comes. Your surroundings are quiet as the grave--no birds, no sirens, nothing but the whisper of wind laced with ash and soot.“Man, here I was thinking we’d be safer outside of the bone factory.” Ly says, caution in his voice.You don’t respond. You can only manage to shake your head and mutter the only appropriate phrase for this situation.“Fuck.”END OF PART 1Achievement Unlocked: The Graveyard Shift>CONTD.
>>4565604Thank you all so much for sticking with BONES QUEST until the end of Part 1! To be honest I thought interest might die out way before now, but you guys stuck with it and I appreciate your support, advice, and patience as I stumble through my first attempt at a quest. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun writing, and I have you to thank for helping me weave a story together like this. Whether you’ve been posting since the beginning, you’ve submitted an answer once or twice, you’ve shamelessly shilled my quest on the general, OR you’re comfortable lurking, I really appreciate you all taking the time to participate! This thread is getting a bit long in the tooth, so I’m going to cut it off here and start a new one either TONIGHT or TOMORROW. Feel free to chime in with any criticism or questions you might have--this is one big learning process for me and I greatly value any and all feedback. Keep an eye out for BONES QUEST CHAPTER 2: HOMEWARD BONED!
>>4565608Thanks for running it, its been a fun ride. I'm excited for more bone puns.
>>4565608This quest has so far been excellent. Not just for a first quest, but in general.Thanks for running!
>>4565608Amazing quest. Thanks for running!
>>4565618Don't you worry, the bun puns will continue or YOUR money back!>>4565936Appreciated! It's a bit intimidating, but I'm glad some folks think it holds up.>>4565961No, thank YOU! Again, couldn't have run it without players.Anyways, folks, I've got this thread archived--you can check it out at:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4544986/Assuming I did it correctly. I'll post a link in this thread to the next one when I make it--Bones Quest Chapter 2 should be up later today. Hope to see you all there!