You’re Stanley Parble: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a centuries-old lich woke up during your graveyard shift at the Good Boy Doggie Bone factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated. Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him Ly) AND gained some nifty super powers from eating magical bone marrow, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of Clearwater, California is overrun by homicidal skeletons! Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it. Not cool.Thankfully you’re not alone. Besides your skeleton you also gained some unlikely allies including Officer Arthur ‘Art’ Berry, a Good Boy Corporate Security goon you took hostage, and the trio: a gang of skeleton greasers who joined you after losing a bet! Don't worry, they aren't bitter! There’s also your best pal, magical goth, and occult podcaster Sybil who, despite being sequestered away in a pocket dimension she found, can still help you through the creepy doll she made! Following up on a lead you obtained when listening in on a meeting of the big bads, you learned that the lich’s power relies on the well-being of his lieutenants--powerful skeletons who command large swathes of your hometown. In fact, you’re hot on the trail of the leader of the greasers: Rocky! So hot, in fact, that you’re currently infiltrating the Drive-In where a meeting’s about to take place. So, you know… Kind of a big deal. It was going pretty swimmingly too, but the sound of heavy footsteps behind you and the whispers of your paranoid skeleton prompted you to tackle Art to the ground and hide.On that sandy hill is where your tale continues…>CONTD.
>>4635314Welcome to BONES QUEST--thrills and fun for the whole family! Make sure to check out the following resources:Catch up on previous threads!>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bones%20questTwitter account for updates!>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3Imgur Page for art!>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCNSTAT BONE-USES (Gained from eating special bone marrow! Nifty!):>Bone Speed: You’re faster than the average meatbag thanks to stronger tendons and other stuff. You can move quickly and your reflexes are pretty cool too!>Emu Leg Bones: Leap high, kick harder! Maybe larger toenails, too?>Beast Claws: Retractable nail claws that allow you to carve, climb, and cling!>Lil’ Slugger: Harsh practice at the batting cages have made you a demon with bats and bat-like tools. Hit ‘em outta the park!>Lyd The Way: Talk about an OUT OF BODY experience! Ly can stretch out from your body at a short range to peek around corners! Even better, seems like only magical people can notice him!Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:>1 SKULL HOODIE>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES>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 (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)>1 SPRAY BOTTLE w/CLEANING FLUID! (Note: keep away from skin and mucous membranes. FLAMMABLE)>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)>1 cigar butt>1 Automated Bone Shaper (ABS) with low battery.>1 Benetti Handgun that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.>1 tin of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHTRolls are handled with a 1d100--I take the best of 3. BONUSES AWARDED FOR WRITE-IN CREATIVITY! Discussion, questions, and critiques are highly-appreciated!>CONTD.
>>4635318“Stay down, Stan…” Ly whispers, “Don’t even THINK about moving!”The words of your stalwart companion and skeletal system bounce around your braincase like pinballs as you continue to remain as still as possible behind an agave plant. Art lies face-down next to you, his gas mask partly submerged in the sand. Part of you thinks he might be overdoing it a bit, but on the other hand this is the quietest his breathing has been in a while, so… It’ll do.Sprawled on the ground like fur rugs, you and Art wait for what feels like minutes as the sounds of revelry in the Drive-In below reach your ears. Man, you can smell popcorn too! This sucks!“Just sit tight, cupcake.” Hisses Ly, peeking past the plant with his astral projection. “He’s right there!”You’re about to ask who when your skeleton borrows your hand and covers your mouth with it!“SSSSHH!!!”Preparing to bite your own hand, you hear an unfamiliar voice ring out along the hill above the Drive-In.“See anything?!”Another pair of shoes approaches close enough for you to make them out: sneakers. Wait, what the hell?!Ignoring Ly’s protests, you peek around the side of the agave and frown--on the ridge stand two pompadour’d greaser skeletons wearing matching leather jackets, jeans, and sneakers carrying hunting rifles in their bony hands!“Squaresville, baby,” The closer one responds, sparing a hand to adjust his hair, “population US.”The other shrugs. “Can’t complain about da’ view though, right? Lenny told me da’ show’s about ta’ start.”As the skeletons continue their discussion, you stare daggers at Ly.“What?”Furrowing your brow, you do your best to chew out Ly without alerting the sentries. What does he mean, what?! He made it sound like that specialist was here for you! That Talmud guy or whatever his name was!“Talbot?” Asks Art’s muffled voice, face still down in the sand.Yea, him! These guys are small potatoes!“You hear somethin’?” Asks one of the sentries.“Somethin’ about potatoes?” Replies the other. You shut up for a second and let silence take over--a moment later the closer sentry shrugs.“Gotta get a bite ta’ eat. Hope da’ fries aren’t all soggy like they used ta’ be.”The other chuckles. “Some things never change.”Suspicions erased, you quietly tap Art’s helmet prompting him to rise from the sand like a zombie.“Are we clear?”No, bonehead, but these guys don’t seem like they’re leaving any time soon! Brushing some sand off of his gas mask, Art spares a glance in the direction of the gunmen, then back to you.“How do you want to deal with ‘em?”How indeed? >Push ‘em both off the cliff! Art takes one, you take the other!>Snap their necks! Quick and easy!>Sneak up and destroy their skulls--your BONE CLAWS should help!>WRITE-IN
>>4635322>Sneak up and destroy their skulls--your BONE CLAWS should help!
>>4635322>>Sneak up and destroy their skulls--your BONE CLAWS should help!
>>4635401>>4635604BOOOOOONE CLAW IS REAAADDDYYYYWriting!
>>4635401>>4635604You frown as the two sentries continue to discuss movie snacks--if this keeps up you’re going to get hungry again and there’s no damn way you’re doing a mission when your stomach’s rumbling! These guys have to go, but how?Maybe Sybil or Art mentioned it, but these guys stop working when their skulls are destroyed, right? Like zombies!“And basically everythin’ else.” Ly adds. Well… Yea. You guess so.“I’m tellin’ ya--Milk Budds and popcorn? Da’ bee’s KNEES.” Declares one of the guards, shaking his gun for emphasis.Right, time to dispense some claw and order, you whisper, extending a BONE CLAW out of your pointer finger.Art responds with the quietest disappointed sigh he can muster as he rises from the ground into what you guess is his ‘sneaking’ posture.“You KNOW I can’t bend that much right now!” Art hisses through his mask filter. His leg, his leg, HOW could you forget his leg?! When you notice Art isn’t laughing, you stop. He can take the closer goon.“You got it.” He mutters under his breath. Circling around the back of the agave plant, you and Art approach from behind as quietly as you can…“Dat’s kid’s stuff. Now usin’ Peanut Butter Plentys? Dat’s da’ bee’s knees, elbows, AND shouldas right there!”Crap, you’re getting hungry! These guys gotta go!>Roll 1d100 to succeed in giving these guys one hell of a headache! I’ll take the best of three rolls!
Rolled 98 (1d100)>>4635675
Rolled 14 (1d100)>>4635675
>>4635694>98>>4635725>14Normally I'd wait a bit longer, but a roll like that? Writing.
>>4635694>>4635725Breathing out slowly you advance, all of your experience playing Frigid Blades running through your mind like a roaring river! Like a homicidal deer you know all of the right places to step without making a noise, and before long you’re creeping up behind the back of the further guard. You wait a moment for Art to get into position, then on a silent count to three, you SPRING!Placing your hand behind your target’s head, you trigger the ‘switch’ in your hand and unsheathe your BONE CLAW straight through the greaser’s skull AND pompadour! Talk about taking a little off the top!Before his pal notices, Art clubs him from behind with the butt of his rifle and sends the greaser tumbling to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The skeleton can barely cry out before Art brings a MIGHTY BOOT onto the greaser’s head, crushing it into dust. Ly lets out a low whistle. “Not bad, you too. You guys even scared ME!”Before you can reply, you notice the guard in front of you slowly begin to burn away in a burst of blue flames. Hey, you remember this! Art glances between your mark and his, frowning when his skeleton doesn’t catch fire either. You shoot him a smug grin. See, THIS is why you’re in charge!“Guess so. We haven’t really taken down anyone since the car chase…” Art begins as you snag a burning bone from the floor. “Looks like you were right about being able to snuff these guys out for good...”You shrug. What can you say, you’re full of surprises! Slicing the tip of the bone off with your claw, you unceremoniously gulp down the marrow inside, much to Art’s disgust. Just like with Terry you feel the fatigue, hunger, and wounds of the day slowly fade! It ain’t popcorn, sure, but it’ll do!“Wait, it heals you?” Art asks, taking his helmet off to give you an incredulous look. You bet it does! Snatching up another bone before it burns away, you slice it open and hold it out for Art, who gingerly plucks it from your hands.“You just uh… Slurp it down, huh?” Art asks, voice wavering. What is he, VEGAN?! Just do it, he’ll feel great! Thanks to your encouragement, Art sucks down the bone’s contents, then waits.Well?“I mean… It didn’t taste bad, per se…” Art begins, checking his body for any changes, “But other than that…”Flexing his leg, the operative groans as pain shoots up from his bandaged gunshot wound. Oh great, here he goes again…“Be nice, Stan.” Ly chastises, waving a ghostly finger at you. Growling in pain, Art plops his helmet back on his head and looks your way.“Thanks for the idea, but I think the extra benefits are all you.”Worth a shot, right? Art nods.“Moving on, nice JOB!” Art remarks, shooting you a thumb’s up. “We took ‘em to the cleaners!”That you did… But now what?>CONTD.
>>4635793>Let’s use the rifles to scout the Drive-In a bit more!>You cover me from here, Art--I’ll grab a rifle and head for the projection building!>Let’s try to signal the trio--maybe they know where Rocky might be hiding!>WRITE-IN
>>4635796>Let’s use the rifles to scout the Drive-In a bit more!
Gonna hit the sack soon, but I'll check in tomorrow and update around 4PM PST! See you all then.
>>4635796>Let’s use the rifles to scout the Drive-In a bit more!scouting is always good, we should definitely think about how we wanna do our big reveal. I think using the projection screen is the biggest option, we could either project our shadow or something onto it, or drive the van through it at some point. We got options.
>>4635796>>You cover me from here, Art--I’ll grab a rifle and head for the projection building!
>>4635796>>4635835>>4635897>>4635959>Scout it out!>>4636658>Head for the projection room!Writing!
>>4636857Now, you begin, you scout with STYLE. Before he can react, you chuck one of the rifles at Art. As he fumbles with the two firearms and TELESCOPING MOP, you pick up the rifle that until recently belonged to the skeleton you just killed and peer through the scope.Not much has changed since you last looked--looks like a bar fight started in the cowboy movie on screen… Looks like an actual fight started in the parking lot too. Yow, that’s gotta hurt!Art sidles over to you and starts peering through his rifle’s scope--good, two eyes are better than one, right? Or is it four eyes?“Doesn’t matter. What do you see?” Ly asks eagerly! You were getting to that! Seems like the fight in the parking lot is still going strong… You shift your sights over to the top of the projection screen and get a glimpse of what appears to be a maintenance catwalk. It takes you a minute, but a pompadour peeking out from behind the screen tells you all you need to know--you’ve got another sniper across from where you are! You nudge Art and point him out, grinning smugly.“Nice catch.”Art hisses, adjusting his scope a bit. “Whatever we end up doing we’re probably gonna want to take care of that guy too.”All in good time… What did HE notice?“More gunmen near the ticket booth--both of ‘em carrying shotguns from the looks of it.”You peek over at the entrance gate to confirm and sure enough, there they are! Those things will take a chunk out of you, that’s for sure.“Not going out that way on foot…” Art replies, scanning the rest of the lot. “Looks like the others are enjoying the movie--I don’t see many other guards.”With a noncommittal grunt your view shifts back to the concession and projector building. Two skeletons stand guard in front with bats while the ba--WAIT A MINUTE!Art almost tips over from your sudden outburst! “What?! What is it!?” That guy near the concession stand entrance! He just mixed Sour Sweeties into his popcorn--that guy’s a MANIAC!“Yea, totally conflicting flavors.” Art mutters, regaining his balance. “Focus, Stan--we need to find Rocky, remember?”Yea, yea…>CONTD.
>>4636963That sorted out, you try to get a glimpse of the back entrance to the concession building over the tarp-covered fence. Adjusting your scope a bit you manage to get a glimpse of two guards standing in front of a nondescript door, each one with their hands in their pockets. Guns? Knives? Hard to tell with these goombas.“Hey, recognize that one?” Art asks, gently nudging your rifle to the right. A skeleton wearing a familiar striped t-shirt approaches the back door, snapping his finger to a tune you can’t hear. Turning the corner to where the back door is, Stripes is immediately accosted by the two sentries!Pulling switchblades out of their coats, they advance menacingly towards Stripes who, in an attempt to de-escalate the situation, backs away with his hands raised in a placating manner.As the guards calm down, you notice Stripes scanning the hill you’re on as he retreats. You can’t tell if he sees you or not, but after retreating to a safe place he begins rapidly pantomiming!He begins with the number 1, then mimes a whistling motion. Flipping a middle finger towards the goons, he then runs in place.“Hmmm…” Art remarks, “A distraction?”Quiet down, he’s still miming! A number 2, then whistling again. This performance is easy to understand--he adopts a boxing stance and hops towards the goons.“Looks like that’s what we want if we want him to start a fight…” Ly mutters.Lastly, a 3! Stripes just… Walks away. Back towards the gang’s van. You’ve gotta admit, the other performances were cooler…“Looks like he wants a signal, huh?” Art muses as the two of you lower your rifles. Guess so. Question is, which one should you go wi-Your train of thought is blown off the rails as the Drive-In suddenly goes DARK! As the sound of skeleton greasers voicing their confusion reaches you on the hill, you’re suddenly blinded by the projector turning on again! In place of the cowboy movie sits an unfamiliar boney face topped with a humongous pompadour, gold-tinted aviator shades, and, the icing on the cake: gold teeth. ALL OF THEM. You already know who their owner is long before you see the letters R O C K Y etched into their enamel…ROBBY!“Rocky, Stan.” Ly huffs.You meant to say that.. ROCKY!>CONTD.
>>4636967“Goooooooooooooood EVENIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING, CLEARWATER!” With a practiced grin and the voice of a rock star, the leader of the greasers runs his ring-covered fingers through his magnificent hair.“That must be him…” Art whispers. Duh-DOY!The Drive-In erupts in a chorus of cheers! “Guess who’s back and ready to set the NIGHT ON FIYAAAAAH!?” Rocky croons, basking in the sound of his own voice. “Rocky’s back, baby, and he’s brought a surprise!”You frown. Just great--more surprises!“I know you love it, baby--and I have it on good authority that we’ve got a SPECIAL GUEST HERE TONIGHT!”You freeze. Wait, wha?The cheers silence almost immediately as the greasers below scan the area. You can guess who they’re looking for!“You bet, alley cats,” Rocky continues, demeanor unchanged, “I’m talkin’ about the lady of the hour, the MISTRESS OF DISTRESS, THE BONE-STOMPIN’ BABE HERSELF--STANLEYYYYYYY PARRRRBLLEEEEEE!!!!”That’s not a special guest at all! Wait, that’s YOU!“Take it easy, he’s bluffing!” Art utters, patting you on the shoulder, “Just cool down!”He RUINED YOUR ENTRANCE! YOU THOUGHT HE MEANT SOMEONE ELSE! HE RUINED IT! You were already planning things too! Shaking your fist in anger, Ly floats down to your eye level and points towards where Stripes was.“We gotta act soon, Stan--these dopes are gonna tear ‘dis place inside an’ out lookin’ for you in a sec’!”He’s right. What do?>Signal Stripes to DISTRACT the guards! You can get to the projector through there!>Signal Stripes to FIGHT the guards! You can help him and regroup!>Head down alone--Art can cover you if things go south!>WRITE-IN
>>4636971>Signal Stripes to DISTRACT the guards! You can get to the projector through there!
>>4637189>>4637199Stealthy Stan strikes again! Writing!
>>4636971Ly’s right--you’ve got to do something! Getting caught without an appropriate entrance would be lame as hell! Well you’ve got an entrance planned, alright--straight through that BACK DOOR!Art stares at you for a moment, then nods.“Alright, I’ll stay behind and cover you from up here. And uh… Whistle four times if you need me. Or scream.”Easy to remember--you dig it. Giving Art a thumbs up, you wait for an appropriate lull in Rocky’s ongoing speech before letting out the clearest whistle you can muster!Well?!“Some of the skeletons are looking around, but--Oh! There he goes!” Art exclaims, pointing in the direction of the back entrance! Stripes comes around the corner running a comb through his hair. You turn back to Art and nod. Showtime.“Remember,” he begins, adopting a firing position on the ground, “Gene said two LONG whistles to meet up. Just in case we gotta leave in a hurry.”Yea, you remember! Speaking of hurry, you’ve got a distraction to benefit from! Giving Art one last salute, you jog over to the hill’s edge and slide downwards towards the back entrance of the concession building. In mid-slide you watch as Stripes’ plan launches into action! You can’t hear what he says to the two goons by the door, but they clearly didn’t like it--he barely has time to sprint around the corner before they chase after him, shaking their knives and shouting 50’s-era expletives as they go. By the time you bump into the base of the fence, the guards are long gone!“Couldn’ta gone better!” Ly boasts, peering through the fence with his astral form. “Coast is clear, cupcake--move it!”Yea, yea, no need to tell you twice! Thanks to your BONE SPEED the trip over the fence is easy as pie--they didn’t even put up razor wire or anything! Sloppy mistake.“Well their mistake is our fortune, right, kiddo?” Ly asks as you drop to the ground on the other side. Brushing the dirt off of your hands, you nod--let’s hope there’s more where that came from! Creeping over to the door, you stick your eye into the keyhole to check inside!“What do you see?” Ly asks, bending closer to you. Absolutely nothing--you’re pretty sure this only works on old-timey keyholes.“Lemme try…” Ly pokes his head into the door for a moment, then comes back out.“Coast is clear!” With a grin you pull the door open. Or uh… You TRY to. Who would have guessed the guards would LOCK it?“I guess we shoulda’ saw it comin’.” Ly huffs. “Maybe I can fiddle with it someh-”No worries, you have a key! Jamming a bone claw into the crack of the door, you slice downwards and chop the lock mechanism in two! With a defeated groan, the door swings open and you enter in silent contentment. Hell yea.>CONTD.
>>4637272Ducking through the now-open door, you and Ly find yourselves in some sort of storage area. Cardboard boxes labelled with various movie concession item brands litter the room, some already opened! Off in the corner of the room sits an entrance to a hallway--creeping past the boxes of treats you come to a stop right before the entrance and let Ly do his thing!After surveying the hallway for a few moments, your skeleton’s ethereal body returns to deliver a report.“Couple a things might interest ya.” Ly states. Okay, shoot!“First, we’ve got da’ bad: concession counter’s right around da’ corner and it’s packed. Like Intermission packed.”Okay, you kinda expected that to happen. What else?“Well, further down the hall is a janitor’s closet.”And what, he just assumed you’d naturally be drawn there for some reason? Seriously?“Kinda, yea…”Well he’s absolutely right! You could probably track down some helpful chemicals and crap in there!“Lastly, I saw a stairwell down the hall--probably leads to da’ projector room.”And ROCKY. “And Rocky.” Ly agrees, nodding his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea ta’ stick around in her for long--they might need ta’ restock the Chewy Creeps. What’s da’ plan?”Well…>First thing’s first--this is a ROOM full of CANDY. You’re LOOTING the hell out of it.>Let’s check out the CONCESSION COUNTER--maybe we can find some cool stuff if we’re sneaky!>JANITOR’S CLOSET! We’re bound to find cool stuff in there!>Screw this, let’s head UPSTAIRS. Rocky won’t wait forever…>WRITE-IN
>>4637275>JANITOR’S CLOSET! We’re bound to find cool stuff in there!
Getting kinda tired, so I'll check in tomorrow around the usual time--4PM PST. Catch you there!
>>4637275>First thing’s first--this is a ROOM full of CANDY. You’re LOOTING the hell out of it.If Rocky knows we're here, they probably set a trap in the janitor's closet
>>4637275>JANITOR’S CLOSET! We’re bound to find cool stuff in there!If he trapped it, we have Ly scout it out first. And I now have the idea that we challenge Rocky to a janitorial duel of sorts. Mopo y Mopo.
>>4637275>>JANITOR’S CLOSET! We’re bound to find cool stuff in there!
>>4637322>>4637385>>4637400>>4638074If there’s one thing being a janitor--er, Evening Sanitation Coordinator has taught you, it’s that janitor’s closets tend to have cool stuff in them. Hell, one time you found this chemical that when you opened it up, it smelled li--erm...Come to think of it, you don’t really remember that much. Weird! In any case, the closet is your next stop--you’ve spent too long in fresh air today anyways.Once Ly gives you another ‘all clear’ signal on his ghostly hand, you spring into action! And by that you mean scamper awkwardly out the door and down the hall. As you emerge from the storeroom you finally get a good idea of just HOW many skeletons are at the Drive-In tonight--the sounds of breaking bottles, popping corn kernels, and shouting greasers is almost overpowering--times like this make you glad you quit working retail!“It was dat’ pizza place, right? Weren’t you FIRED?” Ly asks accusingly as you stoop outside of the closet with a faded Custodial sign on the door. Tomato tomato!Before he can debate you further, you snap your fingers at Ly and point at the janitor’s closet door. The astral projection droops a bit.“Seriously? You think ‘DIS place has a janitor around?” He asks, gesturing to the admittedly grimy building. Listen pal, you begin, trying to shake off an ancient piece of gum your hand picked up off the floor, Rocky’s apparently a tricky guy. Which room do you think he would booby trap for us?Ly floats in place for a moment contemplating the question. “Da’ candy room.”Right, the Janit--no, the CLOSET! You didn’t even so much as LOOK at the candy in the storage room!“You totally did,” Ly accuses, “You just shoved a few bags in your pockets while people were voting on da’ next action. I can see them stickin’ outta’ your hoodie.”Malarky. Stuffing your IMPORTANT ITEMS deeper into your pockets to keep them from falling out, you refocus the subject: Rocky thinks you’ll be checking out the Janitor’s Closet and might have set a trap in there, so go on--check it!“Would a ‘please’ kill you every now and ‘den?” Ly asks, shoving his head through the door. As he works his magic you spare another glance down the hallway--as far as things go it’s pretty ‘Employees Only’--the hall is barebones save for the stairway leading up to the projector room and the door to the concession counter. You frown--you’re not sure what to think about Rocky calling you out like that, but you don’t really like it!Ly returns shortly after, a dopey grin on his face. Well?!“I won’t spoil da’ surprise. Go gettem, cupcake.”You’ve had enough surprises lately, thanks.>CONTD.
>>4638274You push the door open as quiet as a church mouse and slip in undetected. It only takes a moment for you to feel the familiar dark, clammy, and chemical-laden atmosphere of the Janitor’s Closet, and after taking a moment to bask in the feeling, you smile.You’re home.“That’s kinda sad, cupcake.” Ly mutters. Yea, well who asked him? Your mood spoiled, you feel around for the light switch and manage to snag a loose string hanging from the ceiling. With a quiet click the room becomes illuminated by a solitary swinging bulb, and with that the whole room reveals itself to you.Behind a weathered desk covered in ancient work orders sits a faux-leather swivel chair, its brown color almost gone from years of use. A rack of cleaning agents sits pressed against the wall--some of the labels faded beyond recognition--good thing you can smell! That’s not what catches your attention, though, no--what grabs your eyes is what’s sitting in its own separate hook behind the desk--a marvel of engineering, style, and power--to call it a treasure wouldn’t do it justice! In truth, you’d need a million years to properly describe the majesty your eyes have laid upon--“I knew you’d dig it, kiddo.” Ly grins. Sitting on its own hook is none other than the Floor-Kaiser 500--a TELESCOPING MOP with a thirst for the blood of bacteria and a blue steel shaft… Even better, some magnificent son of a bitch put RACING STRIPES on this thing.“You uh… You wanna take it for a spin, cupcake?” Ly asks, not wanting to disturb your mirth, “Or do we wanna look around first?”What indeed?>Test the MOP! TEST IT!>Check out those CHEMICALS--those could be fun.>Maybe that DESK has something interesting?>WRITE-IN
>>4638276>Test the MOP! TEST IT!Our sacred tool, the implement of our conquest. That which cleanses and brings forth brightness. The mop, cleanly be its name. Amen.
>>4638276>>4638284actually I change my vote, that mop is so tempting. But we gotta explore our options, but we are NOT leaving until we have that thing in our possession. >Maybe that DESK has something interesting?
>>4638286DESK it is! Writing!
>>4638286You longingly brush your fingers against the mop handle. No, that will have to wait or you’ll forget everything else. Besides, it’s been hours since you’ve invaded anyone’s privacy--why not kick it off with this desk?Slumping into the aged swivel chair, you nearly fall on your back as you find out just how far back the seat bends! Scrambling back upright, you adjust your cap and take a look at the desk. The first thing you notice, of course, are the work orders. A LOT of ‘em. ‘Clean the popcorn machine’, ‘order new projector parts’, ‘check the water heater’... The list goes on. You won’t pretend you’re the best employee around, but come on--this is just sloppy!“Sloppy…” Ly begins, hovering over the desk, “Or intentional…”You follow Ly’s eyes to a printed missive peeking out from a pile of orders and candy wrappers. Brushing them away, you take a moment to read what appears to be some sort of resignation!Dear morons, Wow, starting off strong!I might as well be ‘captain’ considering how long I’ve kept this place afloat, but I’ll be DAMNED if I stick around and sink with the ship. I don’t care about your ‘retro-chic’ fantasies or any of that bullshit--if you morons buy a Drive-In and don’t maintain it, you’re not going to have anything to Drive-In to! I’ve been nice. I’ve been cordial. I’ve been downright ANGELIC, but now I’ve had enough. Maybe when I’m gone you yuppie bastards will learn that you NEED TO ORDER PARTS for your machines to work and you NEED TO ORDER CLEANING PRODUCTS to keep things clean! I’ve left The Kaiser behind for you two dopes to practice with--consider this my resignation.P.S: That water heater behind the restrooms is a deathtrap--if someone so much as looks at it the wrong way it’ll turn this place into a crater. Consider yourselves warned. Again.Go to hell,EddieYow.“You said it, kiddo. Interesting bit about da’ heater, though.” Ly muses.That also explains why this room is so damn empty, too… Peering below the desk you almost forget to check the drawers! A cursory search reveals a few items of note--a faded bottle of PILLS, a ZIPPO LIGHTER, some MARBLES, and even a PAINTER’S RESPIRATOR! Maybe that can help you stop smelling that weird MARKER smell around your nose…>CONTD.
>>4638426Gathering up the items and stuffing them into your pockets, you take one last look around the desk for anything of note. Only one last thing catches your eye--as you fish around in the waste basket below the desk you notice some words carved into the bottom of the desk--‘Eddie was here--6/16/58’Extending a bone claw, you carve a few words of your own--‘Stan was too--Day 2 of Skeletons’With a satisfied nod you come back up from under the desk and contin--OW! DAMN IT!!Your head hits the bottom of the desk with a loud THUMP! As you hiss and rub the point of impact, Ly stoops down with a sympathetic look on his boney face.“Oh jeez, kid… You gotta be careful..”You’re FINE! Let’s just pick another option and forget it!>TEST THE MOP! TEST THE MOOOOOP!>Check out those chemicals!>Leave. You’re done here.>WRITE-IN
>>4638428>Check out those chemicals!
>>4638428>Check out those chemicals!If we chuck a bunch of random chemicals inside the heater and make it blow up, we might be able to take down Rocky in the ensuing chaos (assuming we don't just straight blow him/ourselves to pieces).>>4638426Hey OP, quick question: you ever heard of a webcomic called "dead.winter" ?
>>4638777>>4638947>>4638969Looks like we're about to do some chemistry! Writing!>>4638969Funny you should mention--I think an anon in thread 2 or 3 brought that webcomic up as well. I had never heard of it before and decided to marathon it--can definitely see the resemblance now! Pretty good stuff--really like the artist's style and the humor's pretty on point . Sometimes I get a little annoyed with the protagonist, though. Still, not a bad comic to be compared to!
>>4638777>>4638947>>4638969You take a moment more to massage your aching head, then stumble over to the shelf of chemicals. The labels seem to have faded away eons ago, but at least the caps are still on the bottles, right? “How do we know which one’s which?” Ly asks, bending closer to the veritable JUNGLE of cleaning agents. Well, you begin as you puff out your chest, cleaning is kinda like cooking--there are guidelines to follow, but a lot of it is improv! “Meaning?” Ly asks, a wary look in his eye.Meaning move over, you’ve got this! Cracking your knuckles, you systematically uncap every bottle, then begin the painstaking process of sniffing the contents of each. You think you hear Ly say something, but you ignore it--you tend to get woozy doing this method and you need to focus on the SCENTS!A few minutes later you stagger backwards and rest against the desk. Once the room stops moving and your vision stops swimming, you manage to pick up Ly’s chalkboard-scratching voice amidst the sound of your heartbeat, waves crashing, and some weird high-pitched whine in the back of your ear.Probably nothing.“Ou okay?! Da’ hell were you thinki-” Ly lectures. You’re more than okay--you’ve managed to identify all of the important crap on that shelf! “Okay,” Ly sighs, “What did you learn, cupcake?”Bleacho Max, Gutter Getter, Germacide, TILEminator... They’re all heavy-duty products.“And?”And, you might have a few recipes floating around in your head for these things. Recipes that will help with the current predicament.“I’m listenin…”No, Ly, SEEING is believing! You’ll whip something up for him that he’ll love! One thing, that is--you’re not sure there’s enough chemicals for a lot of stuff.What do you make to impress Ly?>A Chemical Flamethrower! Your spray bottle, the lighter, and these chemicals make for a spicy treat!>Chemical bombs! Always a BLAST to have around! You’re pretty sure you can whip three up.>Acid Spray! It’s really powerful, especially against LIVING THINGS! You’d better take it with you.>Something completely different, but still amazing… (WRITE-IN)
>>4639068>Something completely different, but still amazing… (WRITE-IN)ACME(tm) Patented Extremely Slippery Oil.We can use the boiler to blow up the building, so bombs are a bit extraneous. But oil can be spread behind us during retreat to slow down and confuse the enemy.
>>4639168>>4639068+1, bone doesn't have good traction either.
>>4639168>>4639269Oil begin writing now!
>>4639168>>4639269This time on Stewin’ With Stan you’ll be putting together a treat for the whole family: an EXTREMELY slippery oil--E.S.O as you prefer to call it. Truth be told you came up with it when trying to deal with an extremely nasty bit of mold at work--while it didn’t clean the mold it DID make for some interesting times when people kept slipping all week!That was a tough meeting to sit through.In any case, this slippery stuff should be pretty handy given the circumstances. Any weekend anarchist can whip up a flamethrower or bomb--it takes a TRUE specialist to make something useful! Gathering up the chemicals in your arms, you take them over to the janitor’s desk and brush the work orders off of the surface--time to get to work!>Roll 1d100 to see how well you do and how much product you make! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Rolled 33 (1d100)>>4639588>Roll 1d100 to see how well you do and how much product you make! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!Lets hope we learned something when we were cheating in chemistry class.
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>4639588
Rolled 50 (1d100)>>4639588
>>4639628>>4639705>>4639843>Highest roll: 50Writing!
>>4639628>>4639705>>4639843With all of the ingredients present and the memory clear in your head, it doesn’t take long for your hands to start working on autopilot--a dash of carpet cleaner, a cap full of dish soap… Ly watches you like a dog waiting for scraps, eager to see just what the hell you’re making! Unfortunately you’re a bit more rusty than you remember--maybe it’s the pressure of someone watching, your uncomfortable sobriety, or that WEIRD MARKER SMELL YOU CAN’T GET RID OF, but whatever it is causes you to spill a lot more than you’re accustomed to. That being said, with a final spritz of wood cleaner for that oh-so-fresh pine scent, you take a few triumphant steps away from the desk to admire your handiwork--a whole liter’s worth of STAN’S EXTREMELY SLIPPERY OIL! Patent pending!Ly scratches his ghostly head.“Care to uh… Care to explain what we’ve got here, cupcake?”Oh right, no labels. With a twirl and a wink you introduce your skeleton to your latest invention: a marriage of all-natural synthetic ingredients and a little bit of love--a lubricant capable of causing even the most CAREFUL pedestrian to slip, and potentially even a bike or two as well! You hold for applause, but it doesn’t come.“Slippery stuff, huh? Could come in useful.” Ly remarks, his face unchanging. You shrug--seeing is believing, right? He’ll be begging for someone to help him lift his jaw off the floor when he sees it in action! As your skeleton gives you a polite “Can’t wait”, you tuck the bottle of EXTREMELY SLIPPERY OIL into your inventory with the rest of the crap. You’ve said it before, but man--these pockets are enormous!“Anything else, cupcake?” Ly asks, glancing towards the door. You respond with a grin--oh, you bet your ass there is!>CONTD.
>>4639983Immersion: https://youtu.be/7Lh_C_Q0BH8 Drawing it from the wall hook like a mythical sword, you take The Kaiser in your hands and test the weight--impressive, whoever owned this before balanced it themselves! Even the ends aren’t lighter or heavier than the other! The cold metal sends shivers down your spine as you run your fingers down the mop handle--barely a hint of soap, dirt, or grease. Not bad at all!Pivoting, you spin the mop in your hands like a baton, taking a few steps and then tossing it into the air! As it spins towards the floor again you pirouette and extend a hand behind your back, catching the mop in your outstretched palm! With a grunt you flick the mop’s head outwards, sending a mighty gust towards the closet walls. Planting the mop on the floor you use your newfound BONE SPEED to hop up and spin around the handle like a pole. On the second spin around you kick off of the wall with your feet, flipping towards the desk! The mop travels in an arc behind you, and as it reaches its apex you bring it down on the desk with a SLAM, launching a flock of work orders into the air!Grinning, you twirl the mop behind your head, transferring the grip from hand to hand, ending with a front-flourish that catches every paper mid-air! Launching the waste basket below the desk with your spiked boot, you bring the mop around like a wizard’s staff--sending a magic missile of PAPERS rocketing into its waiting maw. Spinning the mop around your head one last time, you slam the hook end onto the ground with a resounding ‘CRACK’ in perfect sync with the waste basket landing on the desk. Clicking the ‘FOLD’ button on the mop’s side, you toss the shrinking tool in the air and catch it in your outstretched hoodie pocket.The janitor’s closet sits silent for a while, still recovering from the spectacle it just witnessed. A moment of silence later, Ly grins.“You like it, cupcake?”You’re absolutely CRAZY about it!>CONTD.
>>4639984Satisfied, you and Ly make for the Janitor’s closet door. You crouch next to the door frame as Ly scouts outside, and a moment later he gives you an ‘all-clear’. Slipping through the open door, you scamper down the hall as a flustered-looking skeleton hefts a crate of snacks towards the concession counter in the other room! Darting towards the end of the hallway, your eyes come across a narrow spiral staircase covered in a popcorn-encrusted purple carpet leads upwards, the sound of a projector barely audible over the shouting skelegreasers!“You ready for dis’, cupcake?” Ly asks, a look of determination on his face.You bet you are. Creeping up the stairway like a cat, it doesn’t take you long to reach the second floor. The carpet ends in front of a set of wooden double doors, the paint all but stripped away from years of use. A small placard with the word ‘Projector’ watches over the two doors. As you survey the landing, you can’t help but frown. No guards? No traps? The hell?“Your guess is as good as mine, kiddo.” Ly shrugs. Before you can ask him to, Ly is already peeking through the doors with his ghostly powers. A moment later he comes back, a neutral look on his face.“He’s in a chair--Back’s facin’ us, so I can’t get a good angle on ‘im. What’s da play here, cupcake?” This is it! Time to give him a proper entrance!>Kick the doors open!>Slice the doors into pieces with your BONE CLAWS!>Open the doors quietly--maybe you can ninja this.>SOMETHING ENTIRELY DIFFERENT (WRITE-IN)
>>4639985>Slice the doors into pieces with your BONE CLAWS!
>>4639985>Open the doors quietly--maybe you can ninja this.
>>4639985>Slice the doors into pieces with your BONE CLAWS!>Slice them then kick the pieces in as wellPresentation!!!
>>4639988>>4640136>SLICE N DICE>>4640019>STEALTHWriting!
>>4639985It's a dummy, I'm calling it. You anons went right inro his trap.
>>4639988>>4640019>>4640136>>4640265Last post of the night, but I'll check in tomorrow around 10AM PST!The play? Yea, you’ve got a play, alright.Taking a few steps back for good measure, you take a deep breath--sounds like Rocky’s saying something, but you have a feeling he’s going to lose his train of thought in a minute or so.It’s time. Lunging forward with your claws out, you decide to avoid the misstep you made with King before and SLICE the door up BEFORE kicking it. Your practice swinging through the trees earlier pays off--your claws tear through the doors like hot knives through butter, and before the chunks of aged and splintered wood can fall to the floor, you follow up with a spin kick and send a hail of door sailing into the back of Rocky’s chair!The chunks connect with a loud thump, causing the swivel chair to spin on its axis. You’re already half-way across the room before it turns, though! As you scamper forward claws outstretched and screaming like a banshee, you begin to notice something… Fishy.For one, Rocky’s a lot smaller than you anticipated, which is even weirder since you remember him having legs. Sitting on the swivel chair is a laptop--one of the kind you’d find on sale in an electronics store--and on its screen is the same image projecting onto the Drive-In screen outside--Rocky’s smug face.“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in…” The skeleton croons, shooting you a shiny grin from the safety of the computer screen. You pause in mid-stride, a goofy look cemented on your face.“Ain’t technology a kick? Lemme tell ya’ somethin’ pussycat--I know I sound old-fashioned, but you kids don’t know how good you’ve got it!”“Stan…” Ly begins, his voice wavering, “Da’ guys outside--they’re hearin’ dis conversation…”That means two things: ONE, you might be able to use that to your favor, and TWO, you really don’t want to sound lame right now--you’re on TV after all!“Sorry, dolly,” Rocky sighs, “I didn’t get ‘dis far in life by rushin’ into one-on-one duels, dig? Sometimes ya’ gotta use dis’ thing right here…” The greaser boasts, tapping himself on the skull--Smug bastard!Well, here you are. And here he… Kinda is. Now what?“Now?” Rocky asks, with mock consideration in his voice, “Now I leave you to my boys, let my boss know da’ good news, and hopefully retire as the new ruler of da’ West Coast. Not a bad plan, huh?”It isn’t, but hold on a sec, you’ve got a bone to pick with him! With an unamused sigh, the greaser narrows his eye sockets.“Alright, toots, ya’ get one sentence in. One. Figure ya’ deserve some last words ‘dat ain’t screams…”>CONTD.
>>4640277What do you say? Remember, you’re on camera!>You and your boney buckaroos are DEAD.>Hold--what you are doing to us is wrong! Why do you do this thing?>That’s it? Didn’t peg you for a wuss…>Your boys aren’t as loyal as you think…>WRITE-IN
>>4640279>Hold--what you are doing to us is wrong! Why do you do this thing?Provoke the villain monologue to buy us time!!!
>>4640279>Ruler of the West Coast? You're about 70 years out of date, you've gone past retro and into FOSSILIZED! Rockabilly stopped being cool a long time ago.
>>4640277>Shoulda expected this, you were a huge coward even when you were alive. Everyone from East Side knows that. The only thing you were good at was making your boys eat bullets while making you money, and you're still at it. The one time you accepted a fight you cheated, and looks like even that was too scary for you!
>>4640279>Write-In: "Send in your cronies! I'll just mop the floor with them, taking out the trash is my job!" *followed by dramatically unfolding our new weapon.>>4639984Looking at this, I dread the day Stan gets her hands on a halberd.
>>4640340>>4640461>Call him out>>4640285>Monologue>>4640334>Insult>>4640380>ChallengeWriting!
>>4640285>>4640334>>4640340>>4640380>>4640461You pause for a minute as everything sinks in. Here you are ready to fight the big bad greaser, and instead you get a laptop? What is he, a Saturday Morning Cartoon Villain?Unable to control yourself, you begin giggling--Then flat-out laughing! Rocky’s smug face turns confused, then perturbed.“Stan?”You clutch your sides, but you can’t hold it in! “Stop it!”Rocky, you’re pitiful! You should have expected this crap from him--after all, he was a huge coward even when he was alive…You see Rocky’s jaw vibrate as he tries to maintain his cool composure. Maybe you struck a nerve?“You…” He stammers, “You callin’ me a chicken, freak?”Hey, if it looks, sounds, and smells like a chicken, then… Well, he knows the rest. And so does every other bony throwback from East Clearwater! If he still had veins you’re sure there’d be one bulging on Rocky’s forehead right now. Good thing Art gave you the deets in the van!“What are you sayin’, kitten?” The greaser growls, narrowing his eye sockets.You’re sayin’ the only thing Rocky was good at was making his ‘boys’ eat lead while he made money! Look at him now--he’s going to let his cronies do all the work again! You can hear greasers talking outside--maybe you’re going somewhere with this!“What are… That’s baloney, kid--”Is it? The name ‘Cliff’ ring a bell? That shuts up everyone, especially Rocky. Ly nods at you approvingly like a dad watching his kid in the school play.“Hey now--”Hey is for horses! That chicken race with Cliff was the one challenge he didn’t back down from, and look how that turned out! Brake malfunction? PLEASE.“You weren’t there, don’t you even’ think abo-” Rocky’s sweating now--you’re not sure how given the whole ‘skeleton’ thing, but he’s sweating!The one time he accepted a challenge, he CHEATED. Each letter blasts out of your mouth like a cannon ball--hitting Rocky with a similar amount of force!Even then it looks like it was too scary for him--how far did he even drive before mashing the breaks, big guy?The whole Drive-In falls silent as you utter those last words--you’re pretty sure you heard some popcorn drop on the pavement! Crossing your arms, you await a response from the greaser’s stalwart leader…>CONTD.
>>4640789It arrives a few moments later. Forcing a good-natured laugh, Rocky regains his trademark composure and smiles in the camera.“Well, someone’s done their homework…” As the words come out of his mouth, Rocky’s grin falls for a second--it only falls for a moment, but on his face you recognize the unmistakable look of a cornered animal.An animal that REAAAAALLLY wants you dead.“Tell you what, then, kitten,” He begins, his face regaining shape, “How about you and I put our money where our mouths are… If you really want a final duel, I’m more than happy to give ya’ one...”Weird, two seconds ago he was going to leave that to his goons!“Let’s just say you convinced me.”Sure you did. Let’s hear it, then, you say, crossing your arms.“Speakin’ of homework, you know who didn’t always do hers?” Rocky asks.Uh, bullshit--Sybil always does homework. She’s… Oh. He means you.“Yea, funny thing--did you know these schools keep everyone’s records even after they graduated?”You hear the shuffling of papers. No, he can’t be!“Turns out you an’ I went to ‘da same Alma Mater--guess ‘dat makes us siblings in academia, or whatever…” Rocky purrs. “Maybe that’ll clue you in on where I am.”Clearwater High. That son of a bitch!“You want a duel? Let’s make it honest AND entertainin’--seein’ as how it wasn’t back in da’ Cliffy days…”You frown--what kind of duel can you even do at a school? Cafeteria food fight? Spelling Bee? Rocky shakes his head.“Guess you ain’t much of a pugilist… There’s a boxin’ ring stowed away in da’ gymnasium.”So? What does liking pugs have to do with THAT? Rocky and Ly both sigh.“Boxing, kitten. Let’s settle ‘dis with our fists…”Hold on, what if you don’t want to meet at school OR box? Why does HE get to choose? Rocky shrugs.“Thought you wanted an’ honest fight, kid, but if you’re too chicken ta’ go mano-a-mano, well…”Crap, he’s doing what you just did to him!“I guess I could just read off a few things from your records here…” He muses, papers shifting off-camera. “Wow, paydirt! Hey guys, wanna hear what Stan talked to da’ school counselor about?”A roar of cheers rises from the Drive-In as you look on in horror! NO WAY! You stay the heck away from those records, punk!“Come down to da’ school and make me, kitten.” Rocky sneers, back in his element. “I’ll even sweeten’ da’ deal for ya: if you manage ta’ make it here AND beat me fair n’ square, I might just do somethin’ for you, whaddaya’ say?”What DO you say? What are your terms?>If I win, your gang is MINE.>If I win, you tell me where your other pals are hiding.>If I win, you tell your goons to stay away from humans!>If I win… (WRITE-IN)
>>4640794>If I win, you tell me where your other pals are hiding. either this or the Gang, but this might be more directly useful.
>>4640794>If I win, you tell your goons to stay away from humans!
>>4640794>If I win, you tell me where your other pals are hiding.
>>4640805>>4640915>Intel!>>4640825>Humans are off-limits!Writing!
>>4641091You can’t help but frown--it looks like your gamble worked, but at what cost?! Now you’ve gotta fight this guy in a boxing match… At SCHOOL. You never thought you’d head back to that prison, that’s for sure…Alright, you begin, but if you win you want INFO. Info on Rocky’s fellow bosses! The greaser snorts.“Deal--it’s an all-or-nothin’ kinda thing in my mind anyways--if I’m not going to win, why should any of them?”Not exactly a team player attitude, but okay. So you’ll uh… Just see him at the school then?“Of course, wouldn’t miss it.” Rocky smiles. “Oh, one more thing, though.”Depends on what it is!“What do you call a bird that hangs out in lakes and eats breadcrumbs?”“Stan, DUCK!” Ly shouts! Yea, you know--you were just about to sa--OH, GOT IT!>ROLL 1d100 for absolutely no reason at all. Really, no biggie, but I’ll take the best of three rolls anyways! Your BONE SPEED might give you a BONE-us here too, who knows?!
Rolled 85 (1d100)>>4641113
Rolled 67 (1d100)>>4641113
>>4641115>>4641138Gotta hit the road in a little bit, so I'll write an update now based on the rolls I see!
>>4641115>>4641138Ly’s warning and your natural speed send you tucking and rolling, dodging who or WHATEVER was behind you with the added bonus of knocking Rocky’s laptop out of the chair. Scrambling to your feet, you turn around to get a glimpse of your would-be assailant. Barely fitting through the doorway stands a colossal greaser skeleton wearing dark shades and a leather jacket carrying a long pipe, but that’s not what catches your eyes!immersion time! https://youtu.be/ApreCAQiZ4w On the skeleton’s ribcage is an etched image of a wolf, the letters N I C O carved into the top near the collarbone!“Nico’s gonna rip out your arms and strangle ya’ with em’, TWERP!”Ohhhhh crap.As you step back towards the projector window, Rocky’s voice crackles throughout the projector room and the Drive-In:“Sorry, kitten--some of da’ boys are real go-getters--can’t help it if they wanna piece of you first! But hey, assuming you get to ‘da school in one piece, I’m all yours, baby!”With one last wink the laptop and projector go dark. As you turn back to Nico, you barely avoid the pipe from before spinning towards you in the air! The projectile whizzes by you and slams into the projector room’s wall with a loud CRACK! Regaining your footing, you freeze as the entire wall crumbles, revealing you, Nico, and the remains of the projector room to the whole Drive-In!“ANYONE INTERFERES,” Nico roars, “AN’ NICO’S COMIN’ FOR YA NEXT!”An audience forms, half excited, half confused at the spectacle. You spread your feet out a bit and adopt a fighting stance as Nico cracks his neck back and forth.“Careful, cupcake…” Ly begins, “Dis’ guy’s no slouch!” Yea, you sense that!With a bestial roar, Nico charges at you, arms outstretched! You’ve gotta do something, but WHAT?>Dodge! Maybe he’ll fall!>Counterattack with a weapon (CLAWS, MOP, WRITE-IN)>Block!>WRITE-IN
>>4641285>>Counterattack with a weapon (CLAWS, MOP, WRITE-IN)MOP!
>>4641291+1MOP TIME BABY!
>>4641291>>4641303>>4641537Mop counterattack it is! Writing!
>>4641291>>4641303>>4641537 Sorry folks, was gone the whole day. Thanks for being patient! As the frenzied throwback closes in, you stand your ground and reach for The Kaiser! Feeling your fingers wrap around it, you wait for the perfect moment for a counterattack! >Roll 1d100 to succeed--I’ll take the best of three. Remember, creativity can only help your rolls!
Rolled 4 (1d100)>>4642021>Roll 1d100 to succeed--I’ll take the best of three. Remember, creativity can only help your rolls!
Rolled 54 (1d100)>>4642021
Rolled 29 (1d100)>>4642021
>>4642046>>4642051>>4642066>Highest roll: 54. Writing!
>>4642046>>4642051>>4642066Nico charges towards you roaring like the skeleton of a very pissed off grizzly bear! “Steady, cupcake!” Ly adds, spoiling your concentration. Zip it!You rest your hand on the TELESCOPING MOP in your hoodie pocket and wait for the right moment--timing is everything when cleaning a mess!As Nico gets in range of your mop, you STRIKE!Clicking the ‘extend’ button on the mop, you tear The Kaiser out from your pocket with insane speed and swing for the brute’s legs!That’s how it goes in your head, anyways. Turns out you haven’t really gotten the hang of this mop yet and your hands were a little sweaty, so it almost slips out of your grasp and you end up snagging it and stumbling to the side at the same time.To your credit Nico doesn’t exactly CATCH you, but he doesn’t really miss you either--with a loud WHUMP you and the skeleton topple out of the convenient new exit in the projector room and topple to the parking lot below! Both you and Nico land on a hot rod with a crunch, and while you use your momentum to roll off, Nico grabs at your legs!“SIT STILL, YA’ FREAK!”Of course you realize that isn’t an option. Leaving the crushed hood of the car, you retreat a few steps back as a crowd of skeleton greasers forms around you. Fuming, Nico hops off the side of the car and advances, murder in his eyes!“Hey, mack, dat’s my CAR.” A tough-looking skeleton pushes through the crowd, rolling up his sleeves as he approaches your assailant. Before he can get a word in, however, Nico interrupts him in classic Nico fashion by picking him up and chucking him your way!How do you react? Hopefully well!>Duck and dodge!>Send this goon back at him!>Run for cover behind a car!>WRITE-IN
>>4642111>Send this goon back at him!Tell Nico "Hey! This is between us! You don't mess with another guys car!"
Feelin' a bit tuckered out and need to prepare for work tomorrow, but I'll check in again tomorrow around 4PM PST!
>>4642111>Duck and dodge!
Friendly reminder that the water heater behind the restrooms can still be used as a bomb.
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4642129>Send him back!>>4642215>Dodge!Flipping a coin and writing the result!
>>4642129>>4642215You didn’t order a plate of goon--time to send it back to the kitchen! You feel time dilate as your reflexes kick in--raising your mop in a batting position, you choke up on the handle and prepare to hit a home run!“Square your feet and bend dem’ legs, kid!” Ly hisses, moving your legs a bit farther apart! A single, at least. Frankly you’d just rather not get hit by this guy.“Mmrmrm…” You hear a faint mumble emanating from your pockets. “I needed that shut-eye…”Your pal Sybil, still broadcasting from that weird doll, emerges from your hoodie and stretches a bit. “Oh, what did I miss?”Kinda busy here!>Roll 1d100 to knock ‘er outta the park!
Rolled 80 (1d100)>>4643058
bones we maid it
>>4643644>>4643699That you did! Had dinner and thought I wrote down the 'I'll take best of 3' bit, but I didn't!Writing!
>>4643644You grit your teeth and grip the mop tighter as the memories of all of the nights at the batting cage come back to you. You remember the sweat, the sound of the ball leaving the pitcher machine, and, coincidentally enough, the texts and calls you’d receive from Sybil in the mid-pitch.Yes, you think to yourself, the conditions are almost perfect! Ly watches from your side and Sybil from your pocket as you bring The Kaiser back, and with a swing only several hundred dollars’ worth of batting cage sessions could provide, you feel the mop handle connect with the greaser-turned-projectile.“Jus’ washed dat car-”You feel the skeleton stop in mid-air, then rocket the other way like a tape rewinding! Nico’s eye sockets go wide behind his shades, clearly not expecting this course of action, and before he can move his bulk to the side the flying goon connects with his center of mass, exploding on impact into a shower of bones, 50’s apparel, and cigarettes!Stumbling backwards, Nico manages to keep his balance by steadying himself on the smashed car behind him. “Why I oughta...”The big greaser wraps his bony fingers around the side of the car and starts tugging. You don’t know what the hell he’s planning, but it’s probably something painful!“Get him, cupcake! He’s open!” Ly cheers.“Wait, he might be baiting you!” Sybil says, slowly regaining her bearings.You don’t know what he’s doing, but it looks like your turn! What do you do?>Time to clean up his act! Get him with the mop!>You’re gonna CLAWbber this dope! Bone Claw attack!>Use an ITEM! Now’s your chance! (WRITE-IN)>He’s distracted--run!>Do something else! (WRITE-IN)
>>4643728Also going to head to bed now, but I'll check in tomorrow around the usual 4PM PST time. Seeya then!
>>4643728>Time to clean up his act! Get him with the mop!Nico didn't seem like someone to resort to bait.
>>4643728>Time to clean up his act! Get him with the mop!Lets wash the floor with this rockabilly wannabe
>>4643728>Time to clean up his act! Get him with the mop!
>>4643763>>4643785>>4644069Mop Mob has Spoken! Writing!
>>4643763>>4643785>>4644069You’ve seen how this knucklehead works and you know that leaving him to his own devices is hazardous to your health! Ignoring Sybil’s warning, you scamper forward with the mop clutched in your hands ready to give Nico a few dents to match those on the car!As you close the distance, you hear the shriek of tearing metal as Nico’s hand slowly pulls away with a chunk of HOT ROD! Better act fast!>Roll 1d100 to determine the success of your Mop Attack--I’ll take the best of 3! Detailed attack descriptions give your roll bonuses, so describe away!
Rolled 88 (1d100)>>4644829
Rolled 17 (1d100)>>4644829>Roll 1d100 to determine the success of your Mop Attack--I’ll take the best of 3! Detailed attack descriptions give your roll bonuses, so describe away!Clean his dome!
>>4644911>>4645043>Highest roll: 88Also, in the interest of eventually finishing this quest I'll probably start calling votes if they go long enough--can never tell whether I'm updating too fast or two slow in here!Anyways, writing!
>>4644911>>4645043 Unfortunately this will also be my last update of the night--will check in tomorrow around 4PM PST as usual along with the new voting policy. Thanks for your patience! You bring the mop downwards as the gorilla-sized greaser tears a door from the crushed car to presumably crush you with! Your two weapons clash together with a CLANG that rings throughout the Drive-In, and while you’re no match for Nico’s sheer strength, you find an opening and seize it!As Nico’s door slams against the top half of your mop, you use the force to propel the bottom half upwards! Before he can duck, you slam the end of your mop square into his jaw, causing his whole skull to spin around like a roulette wheel!Stumbling to regain his equilibrium, the greaser roars and swings the car door at you, an attack you barely duck underneath.Retreating a few steps, you correct your fighting stance as Nico stops his head from spinning with a solid slap. Adjusting his misaligned jaw, the giant charges at you with his makeshift weapon! Hey, look at that, Ly--That car make was an Evade!“He’s gonna clobber you, cupcake.”Yea, but that doesn’t change the fact that it was kind of funny...Oh, right--goon getting closer! What do?“He’s certainly confident in his strength…” Sybil muses, still peeking from your pocket, “Maybe that could come in handy for taking care of him!”Or she could just poof him away with… You know… magic?“Still recharging. Also, I have a headache.”Okay, you get it--looks like this is all you.How do you stop this charging chuck?>Trip him with the mop! >Counter with your own BONE CLAW charge! Like in anime!>Wait, don’t you have an ITEM you could use here? (WRITE-IN which one)>Let’s change the scenery a bit--moving to another spot might help!>WRITE-IN
>>4645224>We happen to have our extra slippery oil. Spill some in front of us then dodge.
>>4645224>Wait, don’t you have an ITEM you could use here? (WRITE-IN which one)SLIPPERY OIL GOOOOOO
>>4645237>>4645272Tell you what--ONE LAST TINY UPDATE and then I really gotta go to bed.Writing!
>>4645237>>4645272A dim lightbulb flickers to life above your head as an idea forms! As the bellowing greaser gets closer with his car door, you rummage around in your pockets for a specific item--There!Wait, that’s one of the bags of cand--er… IMPORTANT ITEMS from earlier--you don’t need that.Ah, the E.S.O! The oil! Grasping the bottle in your hand, you quickly calculate the distance remaining between you and Nico along with his velocity!“No you don’t.” Ly groans.He’s right, you don’t, but you do guesstimate where to toss the oil to not only catch Nico in it, but also give yourself plenty of room to dodge!Hope you remembered to carry the zero!>Roll 1d100--I’ll take the best of 3 OR whatever’s waiting for me at 4PM PST!
Rolled 34 (1d100)>>4645305
Rolled 80 (1d100)>>4645305>Roll 1d100--I’ll take the best of 3 OR whatever’s waiting for me at 4PM PST!We do have those BONE LEGS Our dodging opportunities include vertically.
>>4645327I thought about it, but if Nico is going for an overhead strike it's better to jump to the side.
Rolled 1 (1d100)>>4645305
>>4645448I... I am sorry
>>4645310>>4645327>>4645448>CRIT-FAIL: 1Don't apologize, anon--this is the first valid crit-fail of the quest!Writing!
>>4645310>>4645327>>4645448It only takes you a second to find the perfect spot for the oil--THERE! That area of the asphalt a foot or two in front of you oughta take Nico for a wild ride!Striding forward, you fish the oil out of your pockets and flick open the cap--if Nico knows what you’re doing, he doesn’t show it. Like a chef greasing a pan, you coat the ground with a thick coat of oil, thankfully managing to only use about half of it.“Pins are set up, kid,” Ly begins, “Time ta’ knock ‘em down!”Yea, touchdown! Glancing at the approaching greaser, you can’t help but freeze a little bit--even after pouring the oil he doesn’t seem to be slowing down at all--maybe he’s going too fast already?“Dodge, Stan!” Ly warns, pulling at your bones! Not yet--you’ve gotta make sure he falls for i--Wait. What the?The Drive-In lights reflect off of the puddle of oil on the ground, creating a mirror image of the sky, the Drive-In, and you.Why, then, does your copy have a mustache??“Stan, don’t worry about it, MOVE!” Ly yelps!What the hell IS that? Is this a portal to some sort of bizarro dimension? Is that your evil twin!?“STAN!”You’ve had enough mystical shit for one day--raising your mop above your head you notice your double--Yelnats, you’ve decided to call them--does it as well! Shit, you weren’t prepared to fight two people…Wait, that’s right. Two--“OPEN WIDE, TWERP!” The skeleton greaser brings the car door back in preparation to clobber you with it, but as his foot reaches the puddle of oil, everything changes.You feel the wind get knocked out of you as Nico slips at terminal velocity, his massive shoulder connecting with your stomach. Gasping for air, you feel the massive weight of the greaser collapse on top of you, pinning you to the dirty Drive-In floor. Ly pulls at your bones to help you up, but you’re too busy coughing and wheezing!“Nice magic trick, FREAK.” Nico growls, regaining his balance much quicker than you do, “Now Nico’s gonna show you one!”You make to roll out of the way, but are foiled when Nico’s hand presses down on your windpipe, pinning you to where you are. Raising the car door above his head with his other hand, Nico glares at you with murderous intent!“NICO’S GONNA MAKE YA DISAPPEAR!”Oh, you get it.>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of 3! Remember, descriptions = rolling BONE-uses!
Rolled 41 (1d100)>>4645821>Break his arm with our TIRE IRONYou didn't forget we had it, right?
Rolled 89 (1d100)>>4645821>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of 3! Remember, descriptions = rolling BONE-uses!Tire iron is a good idea, I also like the idea of leveraging our mop against the ground to really give him a nice shot.Quick question, do we know how flammable that oil is?
>>4645958Good question! Since it's a slapped-together goop made of several heavy-duty cleaning products by a person who probably thinks the Periodic Table is some kind of furniture, I'd say it's pretty flammable, yea.
Rolled 68 (1d100)>>4645821
>>4645934>>4645958>>4646092>Highest Roll: 89And we're back! Writing!
>>4645934>>4645958>>4646092Raising your TELESCOPING MOP in front of you, your fingers just barely avoid being smashed by Nico’s car door! While it keeps your head from being caved in, it doesn’t solve the other problem--the greaser’s got his hands on your throat and his fingers don’t seem to be loosening! “Gimme dat, fink!” Tossing the door to his side, Nico grabs the mop in his free hand and yanks it out of yours--man, he’s tough!Maybe too tough. Letting go at the perfect moment, you can’t help but smirk as the greaser slams the handle of the mop into his face!BONK!You snatch the mop back as he recovers and start smacking it repeatedly against the arm holding your throat, but he doesn’t let go! As your vision starts to fade, you bring the mop close to your chest, twirl it so the hook side is facing him, and then THRUST with all of your might into the center of his chest! It’s not enough to knock him far, but it does send him back, and that will do! Stumbling backwards, one of Nico’s feet makes contact with the oil on the ground causing him to fly into the crowd of greasers watching the show! You rise to your feet once more, wheezing as air returns to your lungs. “Close call, kid!” Ly pants, appraising you for injuries. “Don’t scare me like ‘dat again, you hear?!”Not like you had a choice! Where’s your oi--Oh.The bottle that held your concoction sits several feet away, the rest of its contents drained on another patch of asphalt. Damn it!“Coulda been worse--what if you lost Sybil, or da gun?”This is still pretty lame, Ly--you were going to use that later!“Well, we still have a bit on the ground, right?”You frown. Yea, along with your doppelganger. You haven’t forgotten about them, no sirree.“Stan, what you saw was just a reflect--” Sybil begins.Not now, Syb--you’ll get to the bottom of it after this guy gets to the bottom of…Nico stumbles to his feet, his shoes covered in oil!A grave, or something. Crap--you had a one-liner for this!“Dat’s your plan, creep?” Nico taunts, doing his best to stay upright, “Just gonna bat me around wit’ a broom?!”I mean… If it works…What DO you do?>Soften up his head a bit with the mop--that’ll end this!>He’s too mobile--let’s CUT down on that a bit. With BONE CLAWS!>Okay, the other item worked out okay--maybe another one will help? (WRITE-IN ITEM!)>Maybe we should move this fight somewhere else… (WHERE IN THE DRIVE-IN?)>WRITE-IN
>>4646173>Soften up his head a bit with the mop--that’ll end this!
>>4646465Whoops, fucked up the formatting--sorry about that.Also, writing the last update of the evening!
>>4646465 Last post of the night--I'll check in tomorrow around the usual time--thanks again for playing! They say the best defense is a good offense, and it’s about time you defended yourself! Sure, Nico probably could have torn your throat out if he stopped to think about it for a second, but as you watch him struggle to stay upright thanks to the EXTREMELY SLIPPERY OIL on his feet, you can’t help but feel like now’s your chance!“Don’t give ‘im a chance ta’ breathe, cupcake!” Ly cheers as you sprint forward! Seeing your approach, Nico beckons to two skeleton greasers on the edge of the crowd.“YOUSE TWO! GET OVER HERE!”“I uh… You ain’t gonna hurt us, is ya?” Frutier asks while the other twiddles his thumbs.“I WILL IF YOU DON’T GET OVER HERE in TWO SECONDS!” Nico replies.Shrugging, the two saunter over. With a beastial growl, Nico picks them both up by their legs and hurls them at you! Man, talk about a team player!“Just focus on the big one, Stan!” Sybil hisses, “He’s not a lieutenant--you can take him!”Man, you hate when friends put you on the spot like this…>Roll 1d100 to clean up Nico’s act! I’ll take the best of 3!
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>4646696>Roll 1d100 to clean up Nico’s act! I’ll take the best of 3!another idea, Lets try and run our mop through the oil and get it real soaked, then we can oil shit easily. Wait fuck, we should have just oiled the mop to begin with, its a fucking mop. It applies liquids to surfaces, I basically main ss13 janitor, I should have remembered this earlier.We could also potentially use it like a torch, but then we would have another problem literally on our hands.As for the flying goons, maybe we could try and do some sick baseball slide on the oil as they fly over us?
>>4646696Charge forward, do a sick slide through the oil and under the thrown skellies and cut Nico's legs with our claws.
Rolled 62 (1d100)>>4646741Guh
Rolled 71 (1d100)>>4646696
>>4646730>>4646748>>4647046>Highest Roll: 71. I'll try to combine a few of these ideas in the next update--writing!
>>4646730>>4646748>>4647046As the undead projectiles rocket towards you, you drop onto your back in mid-stride letting the puddle of E.S.O carry you towards your opponent! Both greasers glance down at you as you slip underneath them, sharing a look of disappointment as they rocket into the other side of the crowd with unsettling CRACKS.With the grace of a baseball player stealing a base, you run the head of your mop along the puddle behind you to catch some goop and bring it in front of you like a lance! Struggling to remain upright thanks to the oil on his shoes, Nico crouches as low as his center of mass will allow and prepares to grab the mop--good thing you aren’t aiming for his hands!Right when he’s about to grasp the tip of the mop, you spin it around in your hands and out of reach! Before he can react, you raise the mop above your face like a hurdle, catching both of Nico’s legs as you sail between them! The Goliath to your David tumbles forwards onto the ground, his face slamming against the asphalt with a sound akin to someone smacking a xylophone! Hopping to your feet, you spin around to face him, mop extended, only to be a bit disappointed.“You…. You FREAK!” The giant spits, picking himself up off of the face of the parking lot. The oil on his hands aren’t making it easy for him, though, and as you draw closer you can’t help but notice a jagged segment of leg bone jutting out of a hole in his jeans near where his left knee usually is! Grody!“I… I promised Stanley Ciccarelli...” The brute grumbles, slowly regaining his footing, “Dat I’d make a name for myself…”He turns your way, eye sockets burning with killing intent!“I promised I’d KILL YA!In a surprising display of willpower, Nico scrambles towards you on his arms and legs--well, the leg that’s still working. It’s kinda creeping you out, to be honest!“Now, cupcake!” Ly shouts, pointing at the approaching skeleton, “Now’s your chance to take dis’ guy out!”“Wait a minute, Stan!” Sybil interjects! What, does she want you to spare him or something?“Hells no.” She replies. “I was just going to tell you to be prepared for however the crowd reacts--please get rid of this creep.”You heard the lady. What do? It ain’t over yet, but you’re clearly at an advantage!>Try to pop his head off--you’ve got questions to ask him!>Smash him up or stab him up--doesn’t matter!>Wait a minute, let’s talk this out! He doesn’t need to die like this!>Appeal to the crowd--Hype is everything!>WRITE-IN
>>4647854>>Appeal to the crowd--Hype is everything!Forgot trip
>>4647874Yep, it's been a day and a half--sorry everyone. I've failed you...
>>4647854>Appeal to the crowd--Hype is everything!
>>4647874>>4647922Win the crowd, win the match! Writing! With a trip this time, too!
>>4647874>>4647922You back away from Nico a little bit, contemplating the words of your pals. Sybil’s usually right about this stuff, and as a popular podcaster she probably knows a thing or two about handling viewers. If you’re gonna get out of this alive you at least need to get them distracted, the question is… HOW?Taking a few more steps away from the slowly-approaching greaser, you take a moment to scan the crowd--looks like what you’re doing isn’t making them any more excited. Hell, even if you DO win what’s stopping them from just mobbing you afterwards?No, you need to win them over a bit--and FAST!>ROLL 1d100 to enthuse the crowd--don’t forget to write in any sweet crowd-pleasing techniques while you’re at it for BONE-USES!
Rolled 47 (1d100)>>4647995
>>4648197Forgot to mention 'best of three', so I'll roll with this for now! Writing!
Rolled 77 (1d100)>>4647995
>>4648197Wait a minute, you’re a professional at hyping people up!“Stan, wait--”No, Ly, you’ve got this. Or did he forget who the Clearwater--“Stan…”WHO the Clearwater Cod was?! Sure, you don’t have the costume, but this is basically the same thing, right?“Stan, no--all you ever did was start fights with the away team mascot and get dehydrated…”Aw yu eVur DuD wUz StAht foiTs--Come on, Ly, you didn’t start them, you ENDED them. And besides, this is even easier--you don’t have to hop around in a ratty Cod suit!“Yea, but--”BUT BUT BUT. Take it easy, you’ve got this.You take a few steps away as Nico slips towards you some more and eye the audience. Skeleton greasers of all shapes and sizes watch the spectacle unfolding in front of them, some gnawing on popcorn, others sipping beers. None of them seem to really know how to react to the fight so far.“They’re most likely scared to show support for anyone other than your opponent…” Sybil murmurs, scanning the crowd from the safety of your pocket. “Still, I have to agree with Ly that this doesn’t seem like the best course of--”Listen, you don’t tell her how to run her podcast, she can’t tell you how to hype a crowd! Adjusting your sunglasses (no WONDER it was so dark), you start bobbing your head to an imaginary beat, then begin a slow, rhythmic clap. Circling the makeshift ‘ring’, you clap louder and LOUDER, waiting for the greasers to join in!“What’s uh…” A voice begins from inside the crowd, “What’s she up to?”“I think it’s some kinda… Head game?” Another replies.“Should we join in?”“I’d rather not. Her actions confuse and anger me--I’d rather just throw stuff at her.”“Me too!”Your hype attempt is foiled by a volley of popcorn bags and beer bottles! Wait, don’t! They… All they need to do is clap...“Stan…” Ly begins, but doesn’t finish.Damn it, this is just like your first night as the cod! It’s all coming back now!You feel a dark flashback coming on, but it's thankfully interrupted by a bottle bouncing off of your head. Ow, by the way.As the pain sets in, you stagger a bit and raise your hand to your head, wincing as you feel tiny bits of broken glass embedded in your hat!>CONTD.
>>4648352“Awww, did you hurt your widdle HEAD?!” Peeking through the pain you watch as Nico gathers up several shards of glass off of the ground and pinches them between his fingers.“He seems to be getting the hang of those oiled-up shoes, Stanley.” Sybil reports.“Yea, and he’s got some claws of his own, too…” Ly adds.Advancing slowly like a tiger about to pounce, your opponent swishes his new claws through the air, grinning madly.“Gonna cut ya’ head off an’ use it as a hood ornament, twerp…”You grit your teeth and do your best to will the pain away from the bottle hitting your head--okay, clearly the crowd angle didn’t work--what’s next?“Attacking?” Ly asks.Sure, let’s go with that.>Attack with some CLAWS of your own! BONE CLAWS!>The MOP can keep Nico at a distance--let’s use that!>There’s an ITEM I’ve been saving for this… (WRITE-IN which ITEM)>Let’s MOVE somewhere else--Nico’s still not very mobile!>WRITE-IN
>>4648353>The MOP can keep Nico at a distance--let’s use that!
>>4648353Gonna head to bed now, but I'll check in tomorrow around 4PM PST at the latest. Until then!
Rolled 55 (1d100)>>4648353>Attack with some CLAWS of your own! BONE CLAWS!I'm really bummed I missed the last roll, for some reason my mobile connection is IP banned for someone elses posts so I'm having trouble posting from work. I was going to suggest we skank to victory and hope Nico realizes that we are about to beat him twice.
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4648382>1: MOP>>4648442>2: BONE CLAWS>>4648442I'm sorry about that--I've been wrestling with how and when to update lately and didn't mean to cut you off. Unfortunately participation has been really sporadic lately, so I find myself wondering if I should wait longer or update to keep things moving. If it makes you feel better you should still have an opportunity for victory skankin' in the future! Thanks again for all of the patience!
>>4648382>>4648442You grip the mop in your hands as the haze around your brain brought on by the bottle starts to clear.Okay, a little more…Almost there……Crap, guess that’s about as clear as it’s going to get. You really oughta get that checked out later, assuming you live through all of this. Keeping your distance from Nico, you do your best to analyze his movements like you did with King and Terry the Terrible. His leg doesn’t seem to want to repair itself, which is good because he’s a lot less frightening when he can’t charge at you. The downside is that those glass shards look really sharp--if he gets a good shot with those, well, let’s just say there are downsides to having meat, blood, and stabbable bits.“We’ve gotta put an end ta’ dis.” Ly warns, “Da’ crowd’s chompin’ at da’ bit for their chance to butt in…”Yea, and you doubt Rocky’s just going to wait patiently with all of your private information. You shudder… Yea, this fight’s gotta end, and you’re gonna end it. It’s gone on long enough anyways--that marrow from earlier is wearing off and you’re getting tired!Flecks of oil drip from the head of your mop as you twirl it around. Nico jabs a few times at the air in response, snarling. Yep, you’ve gotta end this soon--he doesn’t seem to mind the broken leg OR the fact that you’ve been scrapping for like… Eight updates now.>Roll a 1d100 to deal a decisive blow with your mop--I’ll take the best of three rolls, so do your best! As usual, descriptions of attacks can only help your chances!
Rolled 50 (1d100)>>4648807>Roll a 1d100 to deal a decisive blow with your mop--I’ll take the best of three rolls, so do your best! As usual, descriptions of attacks can only help your chances!Nah you updated at the right time, I just gotta figure my end out. Like the other anon mentioned, we still have a tire iron right? We should do some attitude adjustment to finish this
>>4648878We DO still have a Tire Iron! In fact, I think everyone could do with an updated inventory:Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:>1 SKULL HOODIE>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES>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 (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)>1 SPRAY BOTTLE w/CLEANING FLUID! (Note: keep away from skin and mucous membranes. FLAMMABLE)>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)>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)>1 Automated Bone Shaper (ABS) with low battery.>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade>1 SYBIL DOLL (She communicates through it)>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)>1 Handful of MARBLES>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS>7 Bags of CANDYStill at work, but never be afraid to ask clarifying questions. Will check in and update stuff later around the usual time.
Rolled 88 (1d100)>>4648807HOOK THE LEGBEAT THE HEAD
Rolled 16 (1d100)>>4648807
>>4648878>>4648958>>4649249>Highest roll: 88That's what I'm talkin' about. Writing!
>>4648958>>4649249>>4648878You wait for Nico to get closer, your fingers white-knuckled around the mop handle in anticipation. “NICO….” The skeleton snarls, advancing menacingly, “NEVER GIVES UP, PIPSQUEAK.”Well that makes this all the more easier to do, then. Nico lunges forward, claws outstretched, but you’ve seen enough of his strategies by now and easily duck under his attack. Flailing out with his other hand, you weave past another attack and smirk--he’s just not fast enough! Before he can wind up another blow you swing your mop downwards, sweeping both his fractured AND healthy leg. Maybe it’s the remains of the oil on his shoes, maybe he wasn’t expecting it, but whatever the reason, Nico loses his footing and tumbles backwards towards the ground. Not wasting any time, you step forward, bringing your mop back around in an arc. He raises his arms to shield himself, but it’s too late--your mop sails past his defenses and lands with a loud CLANG on his forehead, splitting his sunglasses in two.“DAAAAHHH, CRIPES!” Nico roars, lashing out with his glass claws. Deftly dodging between the blows, you continue smacking his head as hard as you can. Slowly but surely a small fissure begins to form in the center of the greaser’s skull, and as you bring the mop down for one last attack, he manages to backhand your mop away and out of your hands. Clattering on the asphalt a few feet away, you take a step back to avoid Nico’s grasp. The giant rises again to his battered legs, grunting from the effort. One hand still grasps the shards of glass, the other rests on his forehead--holy crap, he’s literally holding himself TOGETHER!“Nico…..” He whispers, the fissure in his head growing wider with each word, “Nico made a promise…”The greaser staggers forward, snarling at the dumbfounded crowd.“None-a-youse… And I say NONE-A-YOUSE, can hold a candle ta’ me!”You backpedal a bit further, rummaging around in your pockets for an appropriate weapon. “I’M NICO, YA HEAR!?” Nico bellows, causing the crowd to recoil. “AND I’M KILLIN’ DIS’ FREAK!”With one last roar, the giant you met in the diner sprints as fast as his legs will allow him--each step making the cleft in his skull even wider. You watch as he comes into range, screaming like a banshee and barely holding the two halves of his skull together with his hand.That’s when you strike.Pulling out the TIRE IRON you picked up during your escape from the storage unit at the doggie bone factory, you deftly duck under his glass claws and bring the tool slamming into his face with a resounding CRACK!>CONTD.
>>4649329The skeleton greaser charges a few more steps, then crumbles to the pavement like a sack of potatoes. Regaining your balance, you put the TIRE IRON back into your pocket, then wordlessly grab The Kaiser off of the ground. The crowd, still speechless, watches you like a cat watches a dog.“Yrrr… Eeegck… Grr..!” You hear noises coming from the pile of bones sitting a few feet away from you. Approaching the body, you remove your hat and shake a few remaining shards of class onto the ground. The behemoth once known as Nico glares at you from the ground, his skull slowly splitting into two halves, the crack glowing with blue flames.“Grrn… Dorrt. DDORT!”>Any last words or actions for your pal Nico?
>>4649332>Any last words or actions for your pal Nico?>"Ya dance well, Nico"
>>4649334>>4649349Adrenaline wears off and you find yourself panting as you stop in front of Nico. The skeleton greaser stares you down with contempt on your approach, the flames between the two halves of his skull growing every second. “Ggrngghhh…” He hisses, eye sockets narrowing. Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you take your hat off and fan yourself.“Ya dance well, Nico.” Confused, the greaser’s eyes flash with recognition as you channel your energy from the diner and skank above him. “Nnnng! Staargh?!” The giant whines as it all comes back to him. You nod, grinning. You just beat him twice.“Fcrkdng…Twerp…”Yea, you’ll buy him a whiskey in the afterlife. He can save you a seat.With that, Nico’s body is set ablaze with blue flames sending the crowd around you running for cover. As you watch the greasers dive behind their hot rods, you snatch up one of Nico’s bones off the ground and cut the top off with a bone claw.Their boss? He’s next on the docket.With a grim smirk, you bring the bone to your mouth and ingest the marrow inside, feeling its healing powers work their way through y-AAACKOkay, that went down the wrong tube. Coughing up a bit of the marrow, you clear your throat and finish the rest, feeling new energy coursing through your weary body and pain disappearing from your wounds! THAT’S the ticket!Feeling rejuvenated, you scan the Drive-In and weigh your options. The greasers watch you warily, the ones carrying firearms clearly doing some math in their heads. Past the crowd you can make out the large silhouette of Wyatt T waiting by the van. Past that sits the bathrooms and, presumably, the water heater you read about earlier. A quick glint of light on the hill tells you that Art’s still up there providing overwatch--the question is, what next? You've got a High School Reunion to attend!>Address the crowd. They need to hear what you’ve got to say!>Head for the van--this situation’s waaaaay too awkward.>Excuse yourself to the bathroom--maybe you can clear out the Drive-In!>Signal Art to do something--maybe he can make a distraction?>WRITE-IN
>>4649414>>Address the crowd. They need to hear what you’ve got to say!>>4649414
>>4649414>Address the crowd. They need to hear what you’ve got to say!>"Now who wants to see a real fight!"
>>4649414>Address the crowd. They need to hear what you’ve got to say!
>>4649439>>4649471>>4649512The voice it is! Writing!
>>4649439>>4649471>>4649512You start towards the bathroom for a moment, but something causes you to pause.“Come ooooon,” Ly mutters, “Let’s get outta here before we have ta’ deal with another contestant!”Ly, THINK for a minute!“.... Okay, check. Still think we gotta go.”Stow the attitude for a second and think--you know that moment in the movies where the hero finally beats the bully and the whole school falls in love with him?“...Yes…”This is your part! If you leave now then that huge fight was in vain--this is the perfect opportunity to get them to do something for you!Ly puts his astral hands on his astral hips and sighs, shaking his head.“Dis’ ain’t no movie, kiddo.”You’re painfully aware--the script is atrocious.“If I may,” Sybil interjects, “Stanley might have a point--the spectacle they just witnessed could be a useful tool for getting something we need…”Yea, see? Sybil manipulates people all the time--she knows what she’s talking about!“For the last time, it’s not manipulatio-”Super. Brushing the excess dust and glass shards off of your hoodie, you adjust your hat to a roguish angle and hop atop the crushed hot rod belonging to the guy Nico threw. The greasers stay put, but you’ve seen these types of glances before in your mascot days--they’re deciding whether they should throw stuff at you or cheer!“No pressure, kiddo.” Ly whispers.Clearing your throat, you make sure you’re at a good angle for your audience and prepare to address them.What exactly do you WANT?>Attention greasers: Please leave!>Attention greasers: You’re in MY gang now!>Attention greasers: Follow me to the school if you want to see a REAL fight!>Attention greasers: WRITE-IN
>>4649631>Attention greasers: Follow me to the school if you want to see a REAL fight!Seems our best bet so far, but we should start thinking of how we are gonna box Rocky, chances are he ain't gonna play fair either.
>>4649631>Follow me to the school if you want a real fight
>>4649631>>Attention greasers: Follow me to the school if you want to see a REAL fight!
>>4650569>>4650846>>4650875>>4650208Sorry folks, my eyes were giving me hell today. Should be good for now, though--thanks for the patience! Writing!
>>4650208>>4650569>>4650846>>4650875As all eyes settle on you, your mind flashes back to the corkboard in the Good Boy Doggie Bones Security Office--specifically to another pinned message on the board that didn’t seem relevant… UNTIL NOW!In case you ever need to ROLL DICE to USE YOUR WORDS, remember that INCLUDING WHAT YOU’D LIKE TO SAY can give you BONE-USES! Workers who fail to do this might face consequences such as MISCOMMUNICATION (See: The ‘Glass Him’ Effect), DISAPPOINTMENT, and worse: BAD WRITING! Remember--whether you’re the voice of reason or the serpent’s tongue, always let your voice be heard! ~MGMT. Huh. You’re not sure why you couldn’t remember that note before… Moreover, you’re not entirely sure why you’re remembering it now. You’re the one in control of your actions, right?Right?!>Whoops, almost took the blinders off of the horse! Roll 1d100 to determine the success of your message and don’t forget to include some of what you’d like to say! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Rolled 83 (1d100)>>4650960>Attention greasers: Follow me to the school if you want to see a REAL fight!simplistic, yet effective.
Sorry folks, eyes are acting up again. I'll try again tomorrow around 10-11AM PST--thanks for your patience!
>>4650960>Whoops, almost took the blinders off of the horse! Roll 1d100 to determine the success of your message and don’t forget to include some of what you’d like to say! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!>"So! Who thinks Rocky can't even beat a girl in a straight fight!"
Rolled 63 (1d100)>>4650960>>4651292Forgot my roll, whoops
Rolled 46 (1d100)>>4650960Supporting >>4651292
roll 1d100>>4650960I am also supporting >>4651292
Rolled 3 (1d100)crap. ignore those, I'm new at this. still supporting >>4651292
>>4651521No problem--thanks for giving BONES QUEST a try!>>4651196>>4651294>>4651356>Highest Roll: 83Not too shabby! Let's write!
>>4651196>>4651292>>4651356>>4651521So, you bark, bringing all of the greasers to attention, Who wants to see a REAL fight?The crowd remains silent with a hint of confusion. “Guess they didn’t think you’d actually be able to beat Nico, kid.” Ly whispers. Oh come on, everyone knows that boss fights with multiple baddies are harder than a fight with one! It’s simple math!In any case, they don’t seem to be shooting you yet. That’s good--that’s good! You repeat your earlier question: WHO WANTS TO SEE A REAL FIGHT?You see a hand raise in the back, but it quickly lowers. Alright, time to spin this another way. Adopting the most smug look you can muster, you smirk at the crowd.Okay, how about this: who thinks Rocky can’t even beat a GIRL in a fight?The crowd begins to murmur. Words are being exchanged, ideas are being formed. Five hundred bucks says she can.” The words barely register above a mumble, but they carry! You look in the direction the mumble came from and find Wyatt T staring at you, the faintest hint of a grin etched on his face.“AY I’LL MATCH DAT!” Screams another voice.“I WILL TOO--I COULD USE A NEW JACKET!”“HEY, I’M BETTIN’ ON DA’ DOLL TOO!”In seconds the crowd of homicidal skeletons changed into betters at a betting parlor--wads of cash fling back and forth in the crowd as interest in your big scrap grows!“You did it, kid!” Ly praises, “You united ‘dem all under a single cause!”Friendship?“No, money. Guess ‘dis will make things easier gettin’ to da’ venue…”“Stan! Can I borrow a fifty?!” Art pushes through the crowd, a tub of popcorn balanced between his hands, your old TELESCOPING MOP, and the rifle on his back. “I swear I’ll pay you back after the fight!”First of all, no, you say, snagging some popcorn from the bag and stuffing it into your mouth. Hey--buttery! Mpfh--second of all, this isn’t about money, it’s about sending a message! Art pulls his mask up and stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth, confusion once again making itself comfortable on his pale face.“Wasn’t Rule 1 or 2 or whatever about making ‘fat stacks’?”That was hours ago, Art--try to keep up! Gangs evolve with the times and can change ideas at the drop of a hat! Take Rocky’s gang here--they were told to kill you and now they’re betting on you! How does he explain THAT?“So,” Art muses in between bites of popcorn, “It’s kinda like the--mpfgh--Constitution?”You guess--wait, they can’t change that. It’s on papyrus or something, right? It would break.Art begins to say something, but it's interrupted by the sudden grasp of a skeleton’s hand on your shoulder! EEK!>CONTD.
>>4651798“Ey, freakshow!” Some skeleton greaser you don’t recognize pats your shoulder vigorously, “Da name’s Perry Pitstop. You and your pal need a lift to da’ scene?”You peer through the crowd towards the van where Wyatt, Stripes, and Gene wait, the latter giving you a lazy salute.“STAN!” Whispers Art, pieces of popcorn blasting out of his mouth, “No one will pull a fast one if we’re in a big group, right?!”Well, you…“Maybe,” Begins Sybil, creeping out from your pocket, “But we might benefit from staying and snooping around for a bit, right?”“Oh, Sybil! Uh.. Welcome back!” Art stutters, swiftly choking down the rest of his popcorn. "That's a great idea too!" Ugh, someone please take you out of the GROAN ZONE.“Whaddaya think, cupcake?” Ly asks.>Hey, I like the idea of a Pre-Victory Parade--let’s do it!>I’ve got my own ride, but you guys warm the place up for me!>I’ve got some things to do here first, but I’ll meet you all there!>WRITE-IN
>>4651806>Hey, I like the idea of a Pre-Victory Parade--let’s do it!
>>4651806>>Hey, I like the idea of a Pre-Victory Parade--let’s do it!
>>4651806>Hey, I like the idea of a Pre-Victory Parade--let’s do it!Style points are still points, and we need as many as we can get.
>>4651878>>4651981>>4652112>>4652403>>4652405>PRE-VICTORY PARADE IS GO, BABYWriting!
>>4651878>>4651981>>4652112>>4652403>>4652405You put on your friendliest grin for Perry. Hey, that would be swell! Thanks, Perry Pitstop!“Perry’s fine,” He laughs, “No need ta’ wear it out, dig? I’ll come get ya when we’re ready ta’ cruise.”Perry Pitstop saunters away into the crowd--the skeletons still ablaze with discussion and debate over the upcoming brawl. Finishing his popcorn, your trusty hostage Art huddles closer to you and puts his helmet back on.“Gotta say, Stan, this is going surprisingly well! Back during the fight I thought I’d have to give you a mercy bullet.”What can you say? You aim to disappoint!“Not from where I was standin’!” You turn and find Stripes scampering over, shoving other skeletons out of the way. Gene and Wyatt linger close behind, wry smiles on their faces. Extending your fist towards Wyatt, the giant observes your hand for a second, then lightly bumps it with his own. Not a bad idea with the bet, T.“Wasn’t nothin’.”“Gotta say, kid,” Gene begins, giving Wyatt a playful elbow to the ribs, “You might be more cut out for leadership den’ you realize.”Pssssh, wha? I mean… Nah!“Don’t let it all go to your head, cupcake.” Ly chides in a playful tone. Stripes shakes his head, grinning.“Apologies, boss, Gene’s been actin’ funny ever since we met up dis’ mornin’!” Stripes goes for an elbow of his own, but pauses as Gene’s hand reaches into his jacket pocket. “Maybe a worm felt sorry for ‘em in da’ ground and donated its heart or somethin’--he’s turnin’ into a softy!”Ignoring the jab, Gene shrugs. “Guess you’ve got an escort to da’ big fight, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll be tailin’ ya.”“I’m riding with you!” Art exclaims, tapping the rifle on his back, “Just in case you or Sybil need backup, you know.”Yea, you know. Speaking of Sybil, the doll in her image peeks out from your hoodie pocket, blue energy returning to her eyes.“This arrangement works to our advantage--while we ride to the school we can debrief about what you and Ly saw during your Astral Dive.”You nod. Yea, you’ve been meaning to go over that! Ly’s astral projection pops out of your body to rub his chin.“You ain’t gonna have trouble talkin’ shop with all of these goons giving us a ride, right?”Of course not! You’ll just sit back and watch the scenery--that’s it!>CONTD.
>>4652513 Immersion note: For best immersion, click link and crank volume as high as possible: https://youtu.be/Uf4rxCB4lys Several minutes later you find yourself in the center of a full-scale parade of hot rods surrounded by skeleton greasers. Slapping the seat to the beat of Franky Be Cool blaring through the radio, you watch as your fellow passengers dangle precariously from the sides of the rod smoking cigarettes, singing along with the radio, and engaging in generally disruptive behavior.Art sits like a corpse in the center seat, his eye lenses turning a peculiar shade of green from being stuck in the middle. Hey, if he didn’t want that seat he should have called DIBS.“So uh… About the fight.” Ly shouts, barely registering over the singing skeletons, “What’s da’ plan?!”Oh, ishe referring to Back To School Fight: SkeleSlam?“Yes, that. You don’t have to keep saying it just because you came up wit’ it, ya know.”You don’t, but you will. What’s his point?“My point is…” Ly begins, pausing as a half-finished beer and the skeleton drinking it tumbles into the back seat, “Dis’ guy’s got more tricks up his sleeve den’ a magician--you got any ideas for how you’re gonna beat him?”You frown. Yea, the same idea you’ve had since the beginning: GO WITH THE FLOW.“Stan, you can’t just apply dat’ to everything in life.”Says WHO? It worked out in Part One, didn’t it? No one DIED.“Art almost did.”First of all, that was Part TWO. Second, he got better! You gesture to Art who appears to have been forced into an impromptu sing-along. See? Fine!“All I’m sayin’ is--”Yea yea, be careful, don’t die, save the day, you’ve got it. What’s the big deal anyways? This is probably the best way this whole thing could have gone--no fights, no running, no problem!With a huff, Ly’s astral form fades back into your body--great, there he goes SULKING again. Looking around for any distraction you can find, you notice that the procession has made it back into Clearwater proper. Though the dark of night makes it difficult to make things out, the several towering building fires help you make some things out. Tim’s fort still looms in the air challenging you along with the rest of the city--the coast, the hills, the suburbs, downtown… Everything you remember from growing up has been taken over by skeletons… You can’t help but wonder--are your parents okay? Your coworkers? Other friends?>CONTD.
>>4652521“Eyyyyy killer!” Shouts the now-familiar voice of Perry Pitstop, “You thirsty? Got some beverages if ya’ want ‘em!”Before you can ask for a menu, he raises a six-pack of Bowie Brew in one hand, a corked bottle of what appears to be bourbon in the other.“I know what ya’ thinkin’,” He begins, grinning cheekbone to cheekbone, “Deez’ ain’t been tampered wit’, no worries. Got ‘em outta a few liquor stores when we took over. Greasers always hydrate before a fight, ya dig?”Well, Art, Ly, and Syb don’t seem to be yelling at you yet. What do?>No thanks--I want a clear head for the fight.>Mind sharing a beer or three?>It’d be rude not to try some of that bourbon…>Say, what’s That sitting behind your leg? (WRITE-IN BEVERAGE)>WRITE-IN
>>4652528>Say, what’s That sitting behind your leg? (WRITE-IN BEVERAGE)>Is that... Absinthe? Why does it have a skull on it?Alcohol is well known to enhance ones ass kicking abilities, doubly so if you are dead drunk with your pants around you ankles and a skeleton full of skelebilities.
>>4652528>It’d be rude not to try some of that bourbon…
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4652530>>4652706Gonna go with a coin on this one. Writing!
>>4652530>>4652706Those choices are nice, Perry Pitstop, but you gotta ask--what’s that bottle behind you?“Seriously, you don’t have to keep usin’ my full name, ya’ frea--You know what? No problem!” Perry Pitstop brushes his annoyance away and reaches behind his leg, grabbing a bottle that would look more at home in an antique shop than a liquor store. Carved into the bottle is the increasingly-familiar shape of a skull--the emerald liquid within giving it an otherworldly glow.“Dis’ old thing? Yea, funny story--found dis’ in the BACK back room of a liquor store. Trut’ be told, haven’t been brave enough ta’ try it yet--supposedly it’s called ‘absint’--at least that’s what Joey told me.”Perry Pitstop turns around towards a hot rod behind you and yells, “EY JOEY! WHAT IS DIS’ CRAP?”“Absinthe!”“DIG!”Perry Pitstop turns back to you, a mischievous grin on his face. “Word is dis’ stuff will put some spitfire in your v6, dig?”Uh… Absolutely.“Tell ya what, les’ do a swig togetha, you an’ me--dat’ way I can brag whether ya’ live or die!”Seems reasonable, yea! As Perry Pitstop uncorks the bottle, you feel the air intensify around you--like something bad looms on the horizon.“STAN.” Ly pops out of your body again, glaring holes into your face. “You stay the HELL away from that drink, you hear me?”Come on, what’s the big deal? You’ve drank absinthe before! Perry Pitstop raises the beverage to his mouth and takes a swig.You think…“STAN.” Oh good, now SYBIL’S getting huffy. “That beverage contains power you can only just barely imagine! Wicked power--that of the Fae itself!”That’s what she says about EVERY cocktail you order. With a satisfied gasp, Perry Pitstop regains his balance, then shoves the bottle into your hands.“That…” He slurs, “THAT’S a drink, right there…”Pfft, lightweight. Shrugging, you lift the bottle to your lips and take a swig!Or at least you TRY to. Your arms lock in place as you feel Ly’s influence over your body along with an unfamiliar one--glancing downwards, you notice your arms are bathed in a blue glow!“Yow, baby…” Perry Pitstop grumbles, steadying himself on the back of the driver’s seat.“We can’t let you, Stan!” Sybil barks, intensifying her hold on your arms! “It’s not a good idea, cupcake!” Ly adds, stiffening your arms more! Art, need assistance here!Art grunts listlessly, his head between his knees in the center seat. Some hero HE is!>Roll 1d100 to take a little sippy! That’s all--just a sippy! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Rolled 65 (1d100)>>4652855>Roll 1d100 to take a little sippy! That’s all--just a sippy! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!I'd ask God to help us, but I think we might be beyond his gaze right now.
Hitting the hay for tonight, but here's the good news--I should be able to update earlier tomorrow and for most of the day! I'll check in around 10-11AM PST, so hope to see you then!
>>4652855>Relent and don't drinkOur friends want the best for us, and random anons with lolrandumb write-ins don't.
Rolled 43 (1d100)>>4652855>Roll 1d100 to take a little sippy! That’s all--just a sippy! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!This is our moment, show that we have the POWER to overcome this adversity!
Rolled 83 (1d100)>>4652855
Rolled 43 (1d100)>>4652855
>>4652871>>4653216>>4653252>Highest roll: 83>>4653047>Don't drinkGood thing we have a designated driver! Writing!
>>4652871Gods are watching, just not the ones you might think...Gritting your teeth, you tap into every reserve of power you have in your body--it’s time to GO ALL OUT.Granted, you could also say that the fight with Nico and the upcoming battle with Rocky would be much better times to GO ALL OUT, but come on, when’s the next time you’re going to be able to drink Absent? No… Your friends are cool, but they’re not stopping you from getting a sippy, no sirree.“HOLD HER!” Ly shouts, his grip on your joints waning.“I…. I’m TRYING!” Sybil replies, her doll somehow sweating from exertion! “I’m still weak and her sheer will… It’s overwhelming!”You form a devilish grin as your skeleton and magical goth best friend struggle to contain you! The bottle slowly approaches your mouth as the hot rod’s other passengers watch in awe and confusion. As you begin to smell alcoholic fumes, you see Sybil’s eyes light up with inspiration!“ARTHUR! Help me stop Stan!”Hearing Sybil’s voice, Art snaps out of his queasy repose, his eye lenses targeting you with grim determination!“What do you have in your mouth, Stan?!” Art scolds, addressing you like a dog. Snarling, you yank the bottle closer towards your mouth causing Ly and Sybil to grunt in surprise!“Hurry, Arthur!” Sybil shouts, her hold on you fading, “We mustn’t let her drink--it could have dire consequences!”“Leave it to me.” Arthur replies, cracking his knuckles. The other skeletons in the car back up a bit to give you and Art some room, and with one last crack of his neck he approaches, determination visible even through his mask!A second later and Art is on the floor of the car dry-heaving. Man, car-sickness is no joke, huh? Defeated, Sybil glares holes into your face. “Stan, absinthe is known to cause hallucinations. Some even used it to commune with other planes of existence--do you really think it’s a good idea to be drinking something like that before a duel?!”Oh come on, Perry Pitstop drank it and he looks okay. You gesture to Perry’s comatose form dangling over the side of the hot rod. “You’re playing with dark forces, Stan,” Sybil continues, “I only hope you’re ready to face the consequences…”Ehh. Go with the flow, right? You bring the bottle to your lips and, true to your word, take a LITTLE SIPPY. The moment the liquid heads down your throat, you can’t help but sense you’ve done something horribly, HORRIBLY wrong!>CONTD.
>>4653657I mean, that barely felt bad going down at all! Is it JUICE? Did Perry Pitstop give you JUICE?!You search the car to give him a piece of your mind, but you can’t seem to find him. Huh. Must have hit up another ride. Anyways, absinthe! Interesting flavor, but all in all? You’re not really impressed.“Stan, whatever happens, please keep calm.” Sybil murmurs, “Remember, they’re only hallucinations--don’t treat them like anything else!”The hell is she talking about? You barely even have the taste in your mouth anymore--where’s a beer? Snagging the six-pack from the backseat floor next to Art, you pull a beer out of the holder and crack it, draining its contents into your mouth. With a satisfied sigh, you toss the can next to Art and sit back in your seat. “Stan…” Sybil begins, eying you warily, “Can you hear me?”Yes, as usual. Is she still going on about the Advent thing? Read the narration--you don’t feel anything! Ly’s astral form pops out of your body again, examining your eyes.“Ya know… She really doesn’t look dat’ phased by it…”See? All the worry was for nothing--chances are whoever owned that bottle just filled it with juice and left it there to confuse robbers!“Perhaps. Then again, your brain is somewhat accustomed to certain chemical agents…” Sybil muses, looking you up and down.The point is, you feel fantastic! Maybe this will convince your pals to believe in you more, huh?“Nope.” Ly and Sybil reply.Great. Snagging another beer from the plastic holder, you barely register the skeleton greaser looming over you standing on the back of the hot rod.The one with a shotgun.“Heya kid, name’s Sonny. You enjoyin’ yourself?”You shrug. Sure?“Tell ya what--me an’ da guys are playin’ a little game. See doze’ targets over there?”Sonny points his shotgun in the direction of the buildings lining the street. The uh… The buildings?“Da’ windows, ya mook. Marty Mancini down there says he can’ shoot more than you can. Wanna prove him wrong?”You glance down at Sybil for permission--she replies with a curt nod--that’s probably the best you’re gonna get.What do?>No thanks, you guys have fun though!>Hell yea, gimme a HANDGUN!>Hell yea, gimme a SHOTGUN!>Hell yea, gimme a RIFLE!>Hell yea, gimme THAT THING (WRITE-IN)!
>>4653662>Hell yea, gimme a SHOTGUN!Channel our ancient redneck ancestry and pray that being drunk somehow gives us the Strength of Alabama to become a shotgun sniper.
>>4653662>Hell yea, gimme THAT THING (WRITE-IN)!It's a chicken. Literally just a chicken. Either you are having the weirdest hallucination ever or this guy need to be ready to play on another level.
>>4653662>Hell yea, gimme a SHOTGUN!
>>4653662>Hell yea, gimme THAT THING (WRITE-IN!)Throw Sonny as our projectileAlso, finally caught up with all the archives and the current thread so I can participate! Love your writing style, this quest absolutely oozes charm and I adore it!
>>4654430You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, anon--thanks for taking the time to actually go back and read all of it! I couldn't have gotten this far without players like you--here's hoping it continues to hold your interest!>>4653733>>4654429>Shotgun>>4653747>CHICKEN!?!>>4654430>SonnyLooks like we're going with the shotgun, but fret not--there will be time for hallucinations and tossing people later! Writing!
>>4653733>>4653747>>4654429>>4654430If videogames have taught you anything, it’s that the shotgun is the way to go. Always is! You relay your choice to Sonny as clearly as possible--two barrels, sawn-off if possible, and they can give you some Dragon’s Breath Shells if they have any lying around. Sonny stares at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into a manic grin.“You. I like you. You seem like a doll who knows how ta’ have a good time.”Tossing his shotgun into your arms, the greaser pulls out a revolver from inside his jacket.“Okay hot stuff, here’s the deal--when you hear dis’ gun, you START. When you hear it again? Ya FINISH.” A hefty skeleton bounds over from a few cars down, his hands stuffed with cocktail napkins and a pen.“Clarence here’s gonna be your spotter. You shoot, he counts. Easy as one two, yea?”Sure, but there’s just one problem--what’s your PRIZE? Sonny responds by scratching his chin.“Besides braggin’ rights? Tell ya what: you win, the heater’s yours. Hell, I’ll even toss in some extra shells cause ya’ remind me of my pal’s sister. Real dish, dat’ one, but crazier than a three dollar bill.”You nod--Yea, you get that a lot. Can you start? With a nod, Sonny bounds down the convoy to a more central rod while Clarence takes over Art’s seat. You inspect the firearm in your arms and grin--pump-action, walnut stock… Trigger weight seems pretty light too!It’s a good thing you’ve played World Police 3 so many times--otherwise you wouldn’t know a thing about guns! Your brother taught you a bit at the boardwalk shooting gallery, of course, but he was always the pro when it came to that stuff…“It’s about to start, cupcake!” Ly hisses with a nicer tone than earlier! Pressing the stock into your shoulder’s pocket, you take a steadying breath as you prepare to put some air holes into some windows!“Break a leg!”Thanks, Ly!>Roll 1d100 to show off your gun-fu! I’ll take the best of three rolls--remember, descriptions can only help your performance!
Rolled 91 (1d100)Another important thing World Police 3 taught us was style. It's time for a 360 NO SCOPE!
>>4654552Wow, that roll will work, yep! Writing!
>>4654552The crack of Sonny’s revolver flicks a switch in your body launching you into action! As your convoy passes a nearby office building, you acquire your target and pull back on the trigger. Waiting for the right moment, your breathing slows as the building gets closer--UniCorp, you think it’s called. Sounds lame as hell!“Isn’t dat’ da’ charity comp-” Ly’s cut off by the report of your shotgun and the shattering of a handful of windows! The skeletons around you whoop with glee as a rain of glass hits the pavement and the smell of spent powder tickles your nostrils--oh yea, that’s the stuff!Now’s not the time to breathe, though--you’ve got a contest to win! Pumping the spent shell out of the gun, you take aim and blast another set of windows away, reveling in the wanton destruction! The shooters in the other hot rods follow suit, but you’re way ahead! Getting into a rhythm of pumping and shooting, pumping and shooting, you can barely hear the frantic scribbling of Clarence’s pen behind you!“That one, Stan! With the blue sign!” Sybil shouts, pointing to an oncoming building marked with the word Insidr. Not one to ignore a friend in need, you unload a few more shells into its windows and the sign itself, causing Sybil to cackle like a mad scientist. You’re impressed--she usually holds that in around new people!“Those idiots referred to That’s The Spirit as ‘a contrived hodgepodge of conspiracies and half-baked fantasies.’” spits the doll, shaking her arm stub at the collapsing sign. “That and their head writer Beatrice Choi said I could ‘use more sun.’ A few broken windows hardly tip the scales, but it’ll do for now.”Yea, what do they know anyways? You say, ejecting another spent shell. You’ve seen the stuff Sybil works with--it’s not like she’s crazy or anything!“Exactly.” Sybil agrees, “It’s a lost cause, though, Stan--Insidr is merely the tip of a very deep and massive iceberg aiming to sink me at any cost. It figures, of course, that they’re bankrolled by the Reptilian Hegemony that’s already sunk its proverbial teeth into every sector of global government. Why just the other day I read that--”Oh hey, a GARAGE! That’s gotta be worth a few points! As the convoy gets closer, you judge the distance and stick your tongue out a bit as you calculate. This one, you think, calls for an EXTRA-STYLISH technique!Approaching the garage WAY above the speed limit, you take a moment to steady yourself against the back of the passenger seat. Counting silently in your head, you take a deep breath and take out three windows in a row, each one rewarding you with a loud CRASH! As the greasers cheer, you take one last deep breath, then hop into the air!>CONTD.
>>4654807As you ascend, you swing your shotgun to the left, using the momentum to spin like a figure skater. Your move spins you 360 degrees, allowing you to catch the glimpse of Clarence, Sonny, and even Art, the latter still looking green around the gills. The greasers stand agog as you return from your round trip and line your sights on the garage’s rapidly-escaping final window.BOOM.The kick of the shotgun launches you back into the hot rod and into a roar of cheers. As your fellow passengers help you back up, you grin, blowing the residual smoke off of the tip of the gun. You glance down the line to see who you presume to be Marty Mancini toss his handgun at his feet in anger.When his eye sockets point your way, you give him a sheepish shrug. His mouth begins to form an unflattering word, but freezes as the report of another gun rips through the night air! Ducking instinctively, you peek towards Marty again only to find his skull blown completely off of his body. With a lazy shrug, the skeleton greaser tumbles off of the car and onto the pavement below. Realization slowly sinks into the heads of the convoy members, and as greasers squeeze into any cover they can find, a hail of high-caliber gunfire tears Marty’s hot rod to SHREDS!The exterior of the garage you just vandalized blasts open, revealing an automobile resembling some sort of terrifying armored personnel carrier and a tank! As the APC part zooms towards the convoy, the turret on top litters the convoy with bullets, shredding scores of greasers in the process! As the gunfire heads your way, you manage to get a glimpse of some familiar white letters stenciled on the side--G.B.C.S.Aw CRIPES!Ducking as low as you can in the back seat of a hot rod, you scan your immediate surroundings for a way out!“STAN?!” Art groans, nausea still present in his voice, “What’s happening??”Your COWORKERS, THAT’S WHO. Pressing Art’s head back into cover, you look around the hot rod for any sign of a solution. Clarence lies huddled on the other end of the back seats behind his cocktail napkins, shivering loudly while the driver and passenger take potshots with their handguns. Peeking backwards, you watch as the rear of the convoy peels away to get a better angle on the APC while the vehicles directly behind you get turned into swiss cheese!“We can’t stick around here, Stan!” Ly shouts, popping out of your body. “If these Sunday Drivers here keep us on the road, we’re mincemeat!”Ly’s right--something’s gotta be done. As usual, it looks like it falls upon YOU to decide…>Bail out! The security goons aren’t looking for you! Not right now, at least.>Take the wheel, you can lose these Rent-A-Cops!>Check the Hot Rod for items--maybe you can use something!>Tell the driver to get you closer--maybe you can deal with the APC up close!
>>4654809>Check the Hot Rod for items- maybe you can use something!Come on banana peel!
>>4654809Sorry folks, but I'm running on fumes. I'll check back in tomorrow around the usual time--4PM PST. Thanks for joining in and good luck thinkin' a way out of this mess!
>>4654816Rest well QM! See you tomorrow
>>4654809>Bail out! The security goons aren’t looking for you! Not right now, at least.
>>4654809>Check the Hot Rod for items--maybe you can use something!
Hey there--sorry for the wait, had a meeting that ran a little longer than expected.>>4654811>>4655881>Case the joint!>>4654829Tuck N' Roll!Writing!
>>4654811>>4654829>>4655881You hear the now-familiar sound of screeching tires and bullet impacts behind you as you take quick inventory of what’s lying around in the car. The bottle of ABSINTHE shifts around in the far side of the back seats along with the BOTTLE OF BOURBON and a six-pack of beer, now a FIVE-PACK after the one you drank. The bag of ammo Sonny lent you lies spilt all over the back seat--a quick count tells you there must be at least 5 SHOTGUN SHELLS back here not counting the ones you’ve spent. Naturally, the PUMP SHOTGUN is still in your hands. Oh right, CLARENCE is still cowering in the opposite end of the car with a handful of COCKTAIL NAPKINS and a PEN. The gunfire from the APC quiets down for a minute, prompting you to scout the enemy yourself. Your coworkers follow close behind your car and two others--the passengers in the latter currently lobbing makeshift fire bottles at the company car. “I think they’re RELOADING!” Art shouts in your ear! “Good, cuz’ we’re done!” Replies the skeleton in the passenger seat, sliding a fresh magazine into his handgun. You politely limbo under his shots as he slings lead AND insults towards the APC and take stock of what you can see in the front seat. The hot rod’s ashtray sits stuffed to the brim with spent cigarettes and a WORN LIGHTER. A pair of FUZZY DICE hang from the rearview mirror above a dashboard HULA GIRL with… Well, let’s just say you might be a teensy bit jealous of her proportions.A fresh volley of lead prompts you to abandon your investigation and return to cover. Returning to Art’s side, you watch as the passengers of the car behind you leap for their lives onto the APC--one unlucky jumper is rendered to dust by the turret, but three others manage to cling to the turret!“Who uh… Who do we root for?” Art asks, adjusting his helmet. Maybe the ones who aren’t actively trying to KILL US?“...Yea, let’s go with that.”Looks like the gunners are distracted--quick, what do you grab? You probably have enough time to grab 3 THINGS before they start shooting--YOU THINK!>The ABSINTHE! You’re not going to let that go to waste!>The BOURBON! You’re gonna need some after all of this!>The FIVE-PACK! Don’t give me that look--what if you get thirsty?>The SHOTGUN SHELLS! Do you really have to explain?>The NAPKINS! Good for cleaning up messes AND for tallying scores!>The PEN! It's mightier than the sword, apparently!>The LIGHTER! You already have one, but two is always nice!>The FUZZY DICE! Maybe they could be useful?>HULA GIRL! Just don’t show it to Art!
>>4655994Never have I felt the path more clearly, lads>The ABSINTHE! You're not going to let that go to waste!>The NAPKINS! Good for cleaning up messes AND for tallying scores!>The LIGHTER! You already have one, but two is always nice!Molotov time
>>4656000Time to add a little fuel to the fire... Or a little fire to the fuel? In any case, we WRITING
>>4656000As you catalogue the items in your booze-addled brain, a particularly SPICY recipe comes to mind! With cat-like agility you dart around the hot rod collecting your ingredients--the driver and passenger stare at you for a moment as you nab the lighter, but their suspicions are put on hold when another volley of high-caliber death rips through the car behind you! Hastily putting your new toy together, you watch as Art abandons his cover and turns towards the front seat.“WHY AREN’T WE EVADING THEM?!” Art yells, ducking behind Clarence’s catatonic bulk.“YOU A LOCAL OR AIN’T YA?” Roars the driver, “HALFA ‘DESE TURNS END IN CUL DE SACS--THEY’VE GOT US RIGHT WHERE THEY WANT US!”You were beginning to find it odd how the motorcade didn’t just turn… In any case, the line of questioning is brought to a halt as the APC’s turret fires on your vehicle!“JUST SWERVE!” Shouts Art, leaning forward and pulling on the wheel! Through some dumb luck the hot rod skids away from the hail of bullets and tosses everyone around in their seats!“You guys are USELESS!” Shouts Art, poking the driver in the chest! “You two wanna die a SECOND TIME?”“Nope.” replies the driver, and with a nod to his pal, the two spring into action. Before you or Art can protest, the driver and passenger (you never got their names--pity) dive out of the car, rolling to safety on the sides of the road! Sharing a look of complete and utter panic, you and Art scramble to the front seats and begin planning Operation: Don’t Get Killed By Psychotic Co-Workers.“Not a big fan of the name, ta’ be honest.” Mutters Ly.Who cares what he thinks?! “HOW MANY CAR CHASES IS THIS NOW?” Art moans, swerving the car all over the painfully-cramped street, “REMIND ME TO NEVER DRIVE WITH YOU AGAIN!”Yea, it’s ON YOUR TO-DO LIST! SPEAKING O-why are you yelling? Speaking of, what’s the plan here?>Get us OFF of this straightaway, Art!>Keep us STEADY, but keep dodging those bullets! I’ll handle the road hogs!>Get us CLOSER--I want to deliver a PERSONAL message!>WRITE-IN
>Keep us STEADY, but keep dodging those bullets! I’ll handle the road hogs!Fire in the hole! Well, hopefully the fire goes in the APC!
>>4656244>Keep us STEADY, but keep dodging those bullets! I’ll handle the road hogs!
>>4656256>>4656324Steady as she goes! Writing!
>>4656256>>4656324Steady on, Mr. Berry, you order, glaring at the rapidly-approaching piece of military hardware behind you. Man, where was Good Boy KEEPING all of this stuff? Might not be a bad idea to track down that Security Station Art was talking about hours ago… Who knows? Maybe you’ll find a mech or something!“Anything else besides ‘keep us in shooting distance’, captain?” Art asks. Yes, actually, there IS. You just had a thought--why are these guys still trying to kill you? They can probably see that you’re human, right?Art shrugs. “Maybe they’re just being thorough?”“They’ve been nothing if not tenacious in their pursuit of you…” Sybil muses, spinning a spent shell casing on the tip of an arm stub. “Though I suppose the image of you celebrating with a crew of skeletons doesn’t paint a pretty picture, does it?”Crap, you didn’t even think about that! Maybe you ca-FRUIT CART!You, Art, Sybil, and even Ly brace for impact as the hot rod crashes through a fruit cart in the middle of the road! As plums, peaches, apples, and wood scraps tumble into the back of the car, you give Art a light punch in the shoulder!“OW!”Two for flinching! Why isn’t he watching the road? That could have been a car! Or a METAL Stand!“Nggh..” Art hisses, rubbing his shoulder pad, “Give it a rest, will ya? I’m trying to avoid the TURRET, remember?”Oh, that. You look backwards as the APC’s turret centers on your ride again--if this was a movie you’d probably add a dramatic sting here.“Hey uh, sorry ta’ bug yas, but--”You and Art yelp at the sound of the unfamiliar voice coming from the back of the car!“Woah, sorry! Jus’ ole’ Clarence!”The portly skeleton holds his hands up in surrender, his head covered in plums. “I was just gonna ask if youz guys could uh… Let me out?”One thing at a time! How do you deal with these paramilitary jerks anyways?>Gun, and lots of it. You have a handgun AND a shotgun--surely you can do some damage?>You think that molotov cocktail is done--time to turn up the heat!>Try to parley--you’re humans, damn it!>Food fight! Maybe you can gum up the turret with some of nature’s bounty?>WRITE-IN
>>4656353>You think that molotov cocktail is done--time to turn up the heat!Crackpot theory time- we know we are some kind of CHOSEN ONE that good ol Tim needs. I'm thinking the company knows something about this guy, or at least Blumenkrantz does, and they figure if they kill us they can prevent him from using us for some sort of power up or ritual.IF the above is true, then perhaps we can turn them to our side if we prove we are actually capable of stopping him with our epic powers so they switch strategies to helping us.
>>4656353>Food fight! Maybe you can gum up the turret with some of nature’s bounty?Jam the scope!
>>4656353>You think that molotov cocktail is done--time to turn up the heat!>>4656356I like that idea as well, but I think thats maybe a conversation for a later time, when they aren't trying to gun us down.
>>4656411Oh yeah, totally agreed. First we deal with our pursuers and Rocky, and then we can think about figuring out what's up with G.B.D.B
>>4656356Heh, quite the interesting imagination you have there, anon. Of course you know the truth is stranger than fiction~>>4656356>>4656411>SPICE things up>>4656410>PRODUCE some resultsWriting!
>>4656356>>4656410>>4656411You’d jump at any chance to test out the shotgun Sonny lent you (permanently, it would seem), but something about this situation tells you that it might not be the right mop for the floor, to use a janitor saying. No, this particular moment calls for a pinch of style--some panache! Something… Spicy.“Just throw it already before they tear us apart, PLEASE.” Art whines, skidding the car around a wrecked mail truck.“So did yaz come ta’ an agreement on da’ ‘lettin’ me out’ deal, or…”Everyone COOL IT for a minute--you’ve got a fire bottle to toss! Lighting your makeshift wick with the old lighter, you hold your concoction aloft and test the wind speed with your finger.“STAN.”Okay, OKAY, SHEESH. Better throw it before her majesty gets pissier!>Roll 1d100 to toss a molotov at the APC! I’ll take the best of 3!
Rolled 94 (1d100)>>4657402
>>4657406Holy shit, these rolls--starting to freak me out a little bit! Writing!
>>4657441Whoops, forgot my pic earlier. Have some Smug Stan on the house! You feel it in your gut--the bottle doesn’t want to be thrown. It wants to be let go. It wants to go home---there! On the APC! All you have to do is give it a little push.And push you do! With a small grunt you launch the molotov out of your hand and send it tumbling in a beautiful arc towards the vehicle behind you. You can’t get a good look inside due to the small, tinted windows, but you have a hunch that whoever’s driving the deathmobile saw the bottle coming. In response, the APC swerves to the right, but it’s already too late--a burst of air and a wave of heat rush against your face as the fire bottle connects with the front of the APC and bursts into a raging conflagration!“See?” Ly lectures, “See what you DRANK?”Yep. Bitchin’.You adjust your sunglasses as you watch the flames completely envelop the viewports, the turret, and entire front half of the APC. A G.B.C.S Goon kicks open a hatch on the roof of the car in an attempt to direct the driver, but the damage is already done! You grin sadistically as the APC careens off of the road and slams full-force into a really badly-parked septic truck! Slapping Art a well-deserved high-five, you both turn and watch as a foul-smelling mushroom cloud forms behind you. Now THAT’S what you call ‘Crappy Driving’!Pulling the hot rod off to the side of the road, Art politely parks and turns off the engine.“Well?”Well what? Well done?The operative looks pointedly at the portly skeleton greaser clinging to the back of his seat for dear life. Glancing between the two of you, Clarence wipes the sweat from his hair with some of his cocktail napkins.“I uh… I think youz won, dolly.” Clarence furiously scribbles on a cocktail napkin, then stuffs it into your hand.“Congrats an’ all dat!”Before you can stop him the skeleton takes off down the street, a trail of napkins following close behind. You and Art recline in your seats for a moment as the mental dust settles, the road dead silent save for the distant sound of gunshots. “What a day.” Art sighs, taking his helmet off. As you take your cap off and begin fanning yourself, Sybil’s doll crawls out of your hoodie pocket and takes a spot on your shoulder.“Indeed. But it’s not over yet!”Thanks, you’d almost forgotten.>CONTD.
>>4657500Lying there for a brief moment, you take a while to just breathe. The night air isn’t as clear or breathable as you’re normally used to, but it’s a refreshing feeling nonetheless. As per usual, Sybil is the one to break the silence.“Right--Stan, you have an appointment to keep, but I think it might be a good time to go over what we know. We might not get another moment to breathe for some time…”You groan. Come on, can’t we focus on the important stuff? You have a fight to prepare for! “Come on, Stan--Sybil’s got a point.” Art adds, nodding towards the doll. UGH.“Thank you, Arthur.” Says Sybil, victory clear in her voice. “And don’t worry, we can talk and drive--Ly can keep an eye out for potential threats.”The skeleton floats out of your body as if by command, shooting the doll a salute.“Consider it done, teach!”Cranking the key in the ignition, Art takes the hot rod out of its parking spot and continues down the road. Ignoring your annoyed groans, Sybil clears her throat.“Let’s go over what we know so far. Thanks to you and Ly’s mission we were able to determine that there are give or take FIVE Lieutenants under the lich’s command--Rocky being one of them.”You nod, rolling your eyes and counting on your fingers. Yep--Rocky, The Sea Witch, The Pirate, The General, and The Cowboy. You almost forgot about him.“Correct. Assuming this upcoming fight goes well, that should knock the number down to four. Unless…”Unless WHAT?“You didn’t forget the scientist, did you? Professor Venaas, if I recall?”Crap, that’s RIGHT. She didn’t strike you as bony, though… Sybil replies with a noncommittal grunt, then starts pacing on your shoulder.“‘Bony’ or not, she’s clearly part of the equation. At any rate, we have an idea of who’s running the proverbial ‘show’, so maybe we can use that information if and when you defeat Rocky…”“Hey, uh…” Art butts in, “Not to interrupt, but I think we’ll be at the school soon.”How soon?“Two, maybe three quick discussions?”Sybil nods appreciatively. “I would hope so after all of that driving… In that case let’s go with what you said earlier, Stan--the ‘important stuff’”, she says, adding finger quotes to the last words.Well…What DO you want to talk about? Art says you only have time for three topics!>What’s that scientist’s angle? She clearly has her uses...>Let’s talk Good Boy. What are THEY planning?>What about that ‘Chosen One’ bit?>The bones they’re gathering… What are they going to use them for?>Any idea how we’re going to get to that friggin TOTEM the witch was mentioning?>The fortress. How do we get there?>Where do you think (INSERT LIEUTENANT HERE) could be hiding?>WRITE-IN
>>4657501>Let's talk Good Boy. What are THEY planning?>What about that 'Chosen One' bit?>WRITE-IN "Where are my parents and Gus?"If we can only pick one, focus on the parentsAlso Smug Stan has incredible energy
>>4657501>Let’s talk Good Boy. What are THEY planning?>What about that ‘Chosen One’ bit?>Any idea how we’re going to get to that friggin TOTEM the witch was mentioning?
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4657506>>4657560Looks like we're going with the following:-Good Boy-Chosen Oneand for the last one I'll toss a coin!1. Parents and Gus2. TotemWriting the results!
You poke your arm out of the side of the hot rod and let the evening breeze caress your fingers. Sybil’s right--there’s a lot to talk about, but where do you START? Your answer comes to you as your pinkie runs against a fresh bullet hole in the side of the car--Good Boy, you whisper to yourself, prompting Art to shoot you a sideways glance.“Uh… Thank you?”“I think she means the company, Arthur.” Sybil corrects, rubbing her chin with an arm stub. “An enticing riddle indeed--what is their place in all this?”Driving around a cluster of demolished cars in the road, Art shrugs.“Search me. Like I said earlier, I was woken up by a phone call and told to report to one of the Security Stations in town--next thing I know I’m driving an armored van to the factory and getting kidnapped.” He explains, ending with a glare your way. Well it wasn’t really kidnapping--you see, Sybil: Art-“Is 100% Team Stan now!” Art exclaims, eyes bugging out. “And that’s what matters, right? In any case, that’s the whole story! I didn’t even know Good Boy had all of this hardware until yesterday--I usually spent my shifts doodling in the bathroom!”“The plot thickens…” Sybil muses. “Arthur brings up a good point, though--why does a dog bone manufacturer need military equipment?”You frown. What indeed? Whatever they need it for it’s gotta be off-site--you’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary at work.“Maybe if we took da’ time ta’ snoop around in da’ Executive Offices…” Ly adds, voice trailing off at the end. It’s not like you didn’t consider it! They have locks and crap over there--it’s tricky as hell! Not to mention people would notice if you went snooping around in there…“Meaning?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow?Bosses. Supervisors. HIM.Art waits for elaboration, but doesn’t get any. Sybil’s face, however, lights up in recognition. “Ah, that coworker of yours--the one with the music. Boris.”Yea, that tool--The less said about him, the better.“I take it he’s a fellow… Custodian?” Art probes, searching for the proper phrasing.Among other things, yea, and his dad’s a suit! The last time you went poking through Executive, you had a nice long meeting the day after--you weren’t even home for three hours before you got the call!“So you think that Boris guy told them?”No, you KNOW he did. The prick. The one good thing about this whole situation is that a skeleton probably stuck those headphones of his down his throat…“Yow, sounds like drama.” Art remarks. Oh, he doesn’t know the HALF of it!>CONTD.
>>4657665“Let’s refocus.” Sybil states like a teacher quieting a class. “The fact of the matter is that Good Boy was highly prepared for this--more so, it seems, than the police department or the troops at the National Guard depot.”Yea, that IS weird! Maybe if the skeletons had doughnuts things would be different, right? Riiight?You don’t get any laughs and decide to sulk in your seat.“Arthur, what are these Security Stations you keep mentioning?” Sybil asks, turning to the security guard. “They, um…” Art begins, keeping his eyes focused on the road, “They’re what they sound like. Blumenkrantz is paranoid as hell, so he set up warehouses and monitoring posts around town to discourage corporate espionage. At least… That’s what the guys used to say. I only learned about them last night.”“Interesting.” Replies Sybil, mulling the words over in her head. “Perhaps we should swing by one when we have the time, Stan. If only to get some clarity.”Yea, yea, you’ll add it to the itinerary. That reminds you--it’s understandable that Tim wants you dead, but why has G.B been so gung ho? Shouldn’t they be treating their workers nicer, or something? You’re pretty sure that’s in your contract.“Another good question. Perhaps they see you as a threat?” Sybil thinks aloud, leaning her doll head against yours. “Or maybe they see you as something else?”Art shrugs. “If it helps, the briefing said you were probably responsible for all of this. Jury’s still out as to whether or not that’s all there is to it.”You frown--yea, blame the apocalypse on YOU. What do you stand to gain from all of this anyways?“You know how Blumenkrantz is--maybe he’s just going with the simplest solution?” Art replies.“What do YOU think, Stan?” Sybil asks, “You were at the epicenter when this all began--do you have any theories?”>Art’s probably right--G.B just wants to pin it on me.>They’re security, right? What if they’re just protecting something?>Maybe they’re in kahoots with Tim--the apple’s rotten!>Dude, they just don’t GET me, you know?>WRITE-INFret not, we’ll take the topics in order--I haven’t forgotten!
>WRITE-IN"Even if it was my fault, why would they want to kill me? I've always been a good employee- I put the hours in!"
>>4657755You cross your arms across your chest as you ponder the situation. You were there, yea, and maybe it has something with you and your abilities. That doesn’t matter, though--even if it WAS your fault, why would they want to KILL YOU?“Agreed,” Sybil nods, “I would think you’d offer much more answers alive or under a microscope. I’d be lying if I haven’t thought of doing it mys--er… Alive! Yes, you seem more valuable alive, Stan.”You’ve always been a good employee--you always put the hours in, even if you were hungover! The boiler incident? Everyone was saved thanks to you! The mold debacle? Guess who? The Vent Caper? Actually you were the one who caused that, but that’s not the point! What matters is that you never let a job go--even if you have to try again a hundred times you keep going!“You ARE pretty tenacious, cupcake.” Ly agrees, nodding his astral head. “In any case,” Sybil concludes, “We stand to learn much about your employer and their goals if we investigate them. Perhaps we can get some more answers from one of those Security Stations or one of Arthur’s colleagues.”“I’m telling ya’ in advance,” Art begins, navigating the car around a particularly large crack, “You’re wasting your time unless it’s someone higher up.”>CONTD.
>>4657832Speaking of you, there’s something that’s been bugging you since you left the fort. You weren’t able to get any specifics, but the baddies mentioned something about a ‘Chosen One’? What’s up with that?Sybil sighs and preemptively rubs her temples.“I knew you’d bring that up.”Great, that means she’s thought about it--Spill the beans, girl!“I hate to say it, but I don’t have any answers to give you, Stan.” Sybil pouts. “In my study of the lich there was nothing that came up about a ‘Chosen One’, your powers, or anything else. The fact that the enemy knows more about it than we do worries me--I’m....” The doll pauses, the words fumbling in her mouth, “I’m sorry, Stan, but I don’t know.”You blink, Ly blinks, even Art loses control of the car for a moment! How is that possible? She knows EVERYTHING! Sybil shakes her head, frowning.“Your confidence in me is appreciated, but I’m afraid I’m not a limitless font of information, much as I’d like to be…”But that’s impossible! She knows everything--the reptilians, skinwalkers, that thing with the water!“Stan, that’s just Capillary Action--it’s hardly classified information.”Still, YOU didn’t know that! See? She’s all about the magical stuff--how can she not know about this ‘Chosen One’ business?“It doesn’t matter!” Art states, calmly but firmly. “I mean… Yea, Sybil doesn’t have all of the answers, but clearly the skeletons do.”You and Sybil sigh--he’s got a point.“Well said, Arthur. We should be focusing on what we do know.”Well for starters, Tim and the lieutenants had a chat about it--seemed like important info. You play the scene back in your mind over and over, searching for any trace of a clue, but nope--nothing.“Perhaps there’s an angle we haven’t seen yet.” Ly chips in, rubbing his spectral chin. “I mean, we ain’t figured out our whole arrangement yet--you think dat’s got somethin’ ta’ do wit’ it?”You shrug. Maybe? Now that you think about it, your relationship with Ly and your ability to get BONE POWERS… Maybe that’s a clue?Sybil clicks her tongue in thought. “It’s certainly possible, and the simplest solution is usually the best. For now we can assume that you’re The Chosen One, Stan--please don’t let it go to your head.”“Yea, that’s never been a problem for her before.” Art quips in a totally NON-SNARKY WAY. Well screw them, you’re The Chosen One now, and you’re gonna milk it for all it’s worth!Achievement Unlocked: The Chosen One!Starting with that. Hell yea!>CONTD.
>>4657833Man, if only your parents were able to see you now! The Chosen One! Bet THAT would look good on a resume!Wait… That’s right...You fish your phone out of your pockets and try to power it on--no dice. Sybil hops down from your shoulder and frowns.“Right, we never got around to getting you that rice, did we?”Nope. Say, what about ART? Why hasn’t he used HIS phone?! The security guard glances back and forth between you and the road, embarrassment slowly forming on his face.“That uh… I haven’t been getting a signal. Pretty sure it’s the same for everyone.”BullSHIT, he was looking at anime earlier when you first found him--how does he explain THAT? Incredulous, Art stomps on the brakes sending you, Sybil, and even Ly jerking forward!“First of all,” He begins, genuine anger on his face, “I wasn’t watching ANIME, I was watching ALCHEMICAL BEAUTY RINA, and it is ART.”You find yourself at a loss for words--this is probably the most angry Art’s been, and you watched him get SHOT.“It has AMAZING PRODUCTION VALUE, an ALL-STAR CAST of TALENTED VOICE ACTORS, and an animation team COMMITTED TO ARTISTIC-QUALITY ANIMATION USING CLASSIC METHODS--None of that LAZY-ASS CGI SWILL.”You lean back a bit as Art spits the last word, a vein bulging out of his neck!“I was watching anime.” Art whispers, nodding himself back into calmness. “I was watching anime, damn it. I, Arthur Berry, LIKE anime, and I’ll die before I stand by and let someone drag one of Japan’s oldest art forms through the MUD.”You and the rest of the gang sit there for many uncomfortable seconds--silent. Ly raises a finger about to say something, but he puts it back down.So uh… It was already downloaded on the phone, huh?“Yep.” Art responds, despondent. You nod in understanding, drumming your hands on the cars’ upholstered dashboard.Phew… You uh… You’re sorry.Art’s head raises a bit, a puzzled look on his face. “Huh?”You’re SORRY, okay? You weren’t trying to call him out there--you just… You found Sybil, but your family and friends are still out there. Art nods, briefly patting you on the shoulder.“I get it. My folks are up in Washington now, but I’m still worried.”“I um… Maybe I can help with that?” Sybil asks, slowly working her way back into the conversation. You and Art glance at her and gesture for her to continue.>CONTD.
>>4657834The awkward haze slowly begins to lift as Sybil clears her throat.“Well, it’s no secret that I’ve been tracking your progress since this morning.” She begins, “And, naturally, I spent a bit of time tracking your parents, Stan, because I knew you’d ask about them.”Okay, great--what did she find out?!“Good news or bad news first?”Crap--just do the bad news. Get it over with!“Unfortunately I can’t track them. I can find you, of course, but there’s no sign of your parents. That’s the bad news.”Is there some sort of good side to that? Sybil nods, a small smile on her face.“My guess is that’s because of the magical ‘bubble’ around Clearwater. While it currently acts as a cage for us, it’s merely that--a CAGE. My hypothesis is that once the shield lowers, I’ll be able to track down anyone we need, provided I’m in good health and know who we’re looking for, that is.”So she’s saying they’re probably okay? THAT’S the news you like to hear! You gratefully pat the doll on the head, grinning.“Yes, I--oof.” The doll pulls away, a pleasantly annoyed look on her face. “I know it sounds odd, but I believe they’re safer than we are, so no problem there. That being said, the people still HERE are at a much higher risk.”“You mean like… Your parents?” Art asks, leaning closer. Sybil shakes her head.“Oh, no need to worry about them. They’ve been gone for years. No need to fret--old wounds, already healed!”Art reflexively begins an apology, but stops and instead starts the car again. Man, and you thought it was awkward BEFORE.Wait, she’s talking about Gus, right? Sybil nods, prompting Art to raise a curious eyebrow.“Gus? There’s uh… There’s a guy?”Smooth, idiot. Shoving Art’s shoulder, you motion for Sybil to explain. >CONTD.
>>4657835“Gustavo ‘Gus’ Reyes is a recent acquaintance of mine,” Sybil begins, “and an old friend of Stan’s. He lives in the same apartment complex as her and delivers pizzas. They both play video games. I believe I’ve adequately explained the entirety of their friendship.”You give Sybil a golf clap. Yep, that about covers it! He’s not much of a conversationalist, but sometimes the best pals are the ones you barely have to talk to, right? Art nods, calmness returning to his face.“One of Stan’s friends, gotcha. So uh… Why exactly is he hard to track?”“Because,” Sybil begins, searching for the proper words, “Well… He’s, for lack of a better word, an enigma.”Art blinks a few times, then turns to you for clarification. How would you describe Gus? The guy appears out of nowhere after barely interacting with you for months with a 24-pack and a large meat-lover’s--next thing you know you’re playing World Police ‘til the sun is coming up and you’ve realized you can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve said anything.“So uh… You guys are…” Art gesticulates searching for the right word, “Close?”Hell no--the guy’s impossible to read! You used to suspect ulterior motives, but now? Gus is just… Gus.“Huh.” Art replies, letting the explanation sink in. In any case, you continue, he’s not an easy man to track. Chances are he’s already escaped or will meet you at school with a large soda--it’s just impossible to say.“He’s a demon on dat’ delivery bike though, remember?” Ly adds. Yea, he drove you to see MONSTER TRUCKS once and you got there like… Two hours early. The guy’s a freak!“Sounds like it.” Art replies, his eyes once again on the road. Settling back into your chair, your mind drifts to everyone you’ve talked about--will you ever see them again?“Settle in, ladies, we’re headed back to school...” Art announces, putting the pedal to the metal! Sybil ducks back in your pocket as you hold on for dear life--your car zooming past a half-melted sign advertising your alma mater--Clearwater High.>CONTD.
>>4657836It doesn’t take long for you to start recognizing landmarks--the Mexican Restaurant whose name you can never pronounce but doesn’t card when you order margaritas, the intersection where Billy Westin ate shit on his bike and lost two teeth, the adult entertainment store with the dumpster full of magaz--err, that one’s private, never mind! Wow, this takes you back! You and your motley crew take in the sights as you wind through the streets towards a place you never imagined stepping foot in again--HIGH SCHOOL.“Bad memories, huh?” Art asks, turning the car around a corner. He can say that, yea… Snickering, the security goon turns towards you and looks you up and down appraisingly. Hey, your eyes are up HERE.“Let me guess… ‘Custodial Club’?”Hey, that wasn’t even an extracurricular! Chuckling, Art shrugs and continues down a quieter road. “Okay then, what DID you do in school? In any clubs?”You frown… You must have intentionally forgotten it. Ly shakes his head, tsking his nonexistent tongue.“Oh no you didn’t… Weren’t you--"OKAY, OKAY, You remember! You were The COD, of course, but you would also drop by:>Drama Club>Debate Club>Chess Club>Anime Club>WRITE-INSorry folks, passing out--will resume tomorrow around 4PM PST!
>>4657839>Chess ClubKnowing Stan, she probably thought it was checkers until she saw it in the yearbook.Also outstanding update QM! Good night and rest well!This new information about why we haven't been put under a microscope combined with the lack of insight about the chosen one has allowed me to form my second crackpot theory!I think Ly was supposed to originally be one of the Lich's lieutenants, but that got messed up when he wasn't able to exit our body for whatever reason- hence why we can assimilate lich lieutenant powers. It would also explain why the company is after us, since all the lieutenants need to be destroyed for the lich to be destroyed!
>>4657834Wait, wasn't he watching hentai?>>4657839>Chess ClubBecause I want to see how the QM will play it.
>>4657839>Chess ClubBecause its the funniest.
>>4657842Always love hearing theories, anon! Here's hoping the truth can live up to the hype...>>4657843Anon, sometimes when watching something questionable you have to tell a 'half-truth', especially when the goth podcaster witch you're somewhat interested in is listening. Turns out getting pissed off really deflects from the truth--give it a shot some time!In any case, looks like we're going with CHESS! Writing!
>>4657842>>4657843>>4657856That’s right… The Chess Club. Even now you can feel the plastic between your fingers--the ticking of the clock, the scent of the acne cream… Sometimes you can still see the pieces on the board above your bed, moving to and fro like ants in the grass--“No way--you can barely form coherent thoughts.” Art states, shaking his head. “No way they’d let you stick around the CHESS CLUB.” “Actually…” Sybil starts, twiddling her arm stubs, “Stanley was quite gifted. The um… the star member, if I recall correctly.”You, Syb, and Art lurch forward in your seats as the car smacks against the curb! Your driver pauses to look at you, a bewildered look on his face. What, is it THAT difficult to imagine?“Yes.”Okay, well try HARDER--you’re looking at Clearwater High’s unofficial CHESSMASTER. Art raises an eyebrow at the last few words that escape your mouth.“Unofficial?”Grinning, you prop your feet onto the dashboard. Sure, unofficial! They couldn’t rank you or send you to out-of-school tournaments--they left those to the other eggheads--but when competitors came to Clearwater? Ooh, WATCH OUT!“I’m not sure I follow.” Mumbles Art, steering the car back onto the road. Rolling your eyes, you groan and continue.They kept telling you that your lanyard wasn’t allowed at other competitions, so it was either lose that or stay at school. You didn’t want to lose any free time, so you decided to just stick around Clearwater.“What uh… What lanyard, Stan?”You’re getting to that, ssssh! So the game itself was pretty simple--you’d start the clock, move one of the pieces using the pictures on your lanyard, then click the button. Boom. Easy.“Pictures…”You’ll admit it was pretty intimidating at first--you wandered in one day thinking people were playing Pioneers of Colton or something, but it turns out it was a WHOLE DIFFERENT GAME. One of the dorks playing challenged you and after a few moves, boom--done!“Done?”>CONTD.
>>4658876You bet! Sure, he had to keep explaining what the horses and bumpheads did, but once someone drew you a diagram it was pretty easy! You didn’t even need to think ahead or anything--it just came to you! The good news is that they begged you to be on the team after beating everyone in the room, but the bad news is that you missed out on Gamugo’s stream that day, so it was kinda lame.“I remember that…” Sybil adds, “The school paper got wind of it too.”“Hold on a second, so you beat everyone in the club on your first day?”Is he listening or not? YES--the students, that Uber Nerd Kevin Moseby, and even the club sponsor Mr. Tseng. Easy PEASY. “You’re joking. Sybil, tell me she’s joking!” Art pleads, trying to make sense of it all.“I assure you it’s no joke, Arthur.” Sybil replies, shaking her head. “I even based a TTS episode around it--Episode 12: Who Would’ve CHESS’d?”Art blinks.“Not the best title, I know. In any case, being in school allowed me to sit in on Stan’s games--to say they were incredible wouldn’t do them enough justice!”You grin, raising your eyebrows at Art. Yea, suck on THAT.“I even managed to interview the science team that studied Stanley’s brain waves--they even let me put a few electrodes on her myself!”Wait, what? They told you they were copying your brain to clone it! They DUPED you!“What did they find?” Art asks, his interest renewed!“I’m technically still under an NDA, but I suppose that’s expired given the… Circumstances…” Sybil explains, gesturing to the charred neighborhood around you. “They observed Stan’s brain for countless matches, but no matter how hard they tried, they kept coming to the same conclusion.”That you’re a CHESS GODDESS. Roll credits!“That they couldn’t detect anything.” Sybil concludes, a manic grin on her doll’s face. “No patterns, no reason, nothing identifiable as strategy, understanding, or tactical analysis.”“So you’re saying…” Art begins, gears turning in his head. “Precisely. Stan was impossible to read or play against--how can one counter a strategy when their opponent has none? How does one defend against an opponent with no regard for self-preservation, forethought, or logic?”The doll hugs the side of your head, running her arm stubs through your hair.“Stanley is… Special. A truly remarkable test subject. One day I’ll find out what makes that miraculous mind tick--one day…”“Sybil, you’re uh… You’re drooling.” Art warns, turning the car around another corner. Heh. You’re special. Taught those nerds a thing or too, that’s for sure!>CONTD.
>>4658878But that’s enough about YOU. What about Art? Any juicy deets he’d like to share? Recovering from your story, Art clears his throat and shrugs.“Nothing too exciting, really--I went to Weston High in… You know, West Clearwater.”You remember. The preppy school.“No it wasn’t… It--forget it. I was in the art club there. Won a contest once and got a $10 gift card to I Scream--that’s what kinda set me off in this whole direction…”Thank god--you thought he was gonna bring up relationships or something. Syb, you’re up!“Well,” she begins, forming her thoughts, “I spent a lot of time working on the podcast, so I didn’t have much time for extracurriculars. There was Blades of Zamarka, but that’s a whole other story… “Wait, you mean the meetup at the park?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow. “My pal took me there a couple of times--I went as Mercurio Devonshire? Half-Elf Ranger?Sybil’s eyes light up. Uh oh.“YOU WERE MERCURIO?! We must have mortally-wounded each other countless times! I was Viconia Feldspaar!”The two of them launch into a flurry of game anecdotes and names of players you don’t recognize. Feeling left out, you do what you normally do in these situations and block everything out.“Small world, huh kid?” Ly asks. You can say that again!After what feels like hours, your hot rod approaches an ancient concrete eyesore adorned with cracked walls, dead grass, and barred windows. Several abandoned hot rods lie parked on the grass, including a familiar suped-up armored van.“Wow, they really did a number on the place.” Art whistles.Not really--this is pretty much how it always looked. “In fact,” Sybil begins, eyeing the school in the distance, “I’d say it’s improved. The ‘brutalist fortress’ architecture pays off rather well in the apocalypse…”With a noncommittal grunt, Art parks the car in front of the school and puts his helmet back on. “Shall we?”Good question!>Let’s drive around the back--the gym’s over there.>Yea, let’s head in the front--looks like the others came through this way.>Hold on, let’s check around outside for a bit!>WRITE-IN
>>4658879>Yea, let’s head in the front--looks like the others came through this wayAbsolutely brilliant- I love the chess explanation lol
>>4658884Front door it is! Writing!
>>4658884Last update of the night--thanks for playing and see you at the usual time tomorrow!No sense in delaying--apparently Rocky has your permanent record or whatever, and lord knows you don’t want your friends hearing all of the dirt the school has on you! Hopping out of the hot rod, you and Art weave through the maze of parked cars towards the front entrance.“Looks like they’re tucking in for the long haul…” Art remarks, running a hand along one of the cars. You respond with a noncommittal grunt, noting the location of the trio’s suped-up van parked on the dried-up lawn--part of you wants to believe you won’t be fleeing for your life back here in about an hour or so, but after everything that’s happened in the last day or so you really can’t be too careful, can you?As you and Art reach the front doors, you glance upwards at the tarnished metal letters spelling out Clearwater High School above you. “Having second thoughts?” Art asks, adjusting the helmet on his head. You shrug--wouldn’t matter if you were.“Dis’ is it, cupcake--Lieutenant numbah’ two!” Ly boasts. “Don’t forget da’ Golden Marrow!”Not likely when he says it like that… With a nod to your associate, you and Art both plant your hands on the heavy double doors and push, receiving a gut-wrenching creak of metal as thanks! Gritting your teeth you keep pushing, and like the doors to a cathedral they slowly swing open revealing the silhouette of the school entrance tucked away inside. The tip of a shotgun is already pressed against your chest before the doors can fully open. >CONTD.
>>4659307Raising your hands in surrender, you watch as Art follows suit. Come on, they aren’t even pointing a gun at him!“Sorry… Panicked…”Damn it. A pompadour emerges from the shadows attached to a grinning skull. “Bang--ya’ dead, meatbag.”You roll your eyes in response--yea, he’s a real charmer. Is Rocky here or isn’t he?“Pfft, can’t even take a joke…” The skeleton mumbles, lowering the shotgun. Beckoning the two of you inside, you step into the main foyer where chaos has already settled in. The trophy case lies in pieces on the floor--shards of glass littering the ground like an avant garde carpet. The halls echo with the raucous laughter of skeletons and the crack of gunshots--down the hall you see the ever-familiar entrances to both the Counselor’s and School Office--both of which seem to be missing doors.“Da’ boss is waitin’ for ya in da’ gym,” Explains the shotgun skeleton, “Follow dat’ hall, pass da’ pool, boom--theresville.” Is he ready to lose or what?The skeleton responds with a cruel chuckle.“I hope not--got a lotta dough ridin’ on him. Show ain’t startin’ yet, though--turns out da’ pukes dat’ ran dis’ place had the boxin’ ring in storage, so we’s gotta sets it up.”THAT explains why you never saw it! “I vaguely recall the PTA voting to discontinue the boxing club…” Sybil begins, “‘Too violent’, they said.”What is this country coming to? First dodgeball, now BOXING? If you knew you could join a club to sock people, you never would have done it as The Cod!“The wha?” Art asks. Nothing, just thinking!“Anyways, keep an’ ear out for da’ PA.” The skeleton drones, tipping the end of his shotgun in the direction of the cobweb-covered box on the ceiling. “We’ll call ya when we’re ready.”You frown. How do you know this isn’t just a trick?“Because a lotta’ us stand ta’ gain or lose some money here. Dat’s da’ best yer gonna get, meatbag.”Fair enough. You wave the skeleton away and he returns to his post by the door. Cracking your knuckles, you and your pals stand in the foyer like lost tourists, surveying the ruins of your past in silent awe.“Well!” Remarks Sybil, “Shall we give Arthur the tour?”You were hoping you wouldn’t have to, but…>Come on, Art, we’ll show you the MAIN OFFICE.>This way, Art, our POOL’S got a High-Dive!? ? ? ? ? ? ?W h a t s t h a t? ? ? ? ? ? ? >Wanna see our old classrooms, Art?>WRITE-IN
>>4659310>? ? ? ? ? ? ?W h a t s t h a t? ? ? ? ? ? ?
>>4659310>? ? ? ? ? ? ?W h a t s t h a t? ? ? ? ? ? ?This option is far too tempting not to pick!
>>4659310>? ? ? ? ? ? ?W h a t s t h a t? ? ? ? ? ? ?You tempt me too much, also we need to figure out what the current odds are on us and have Art bet a shitton on us.
>>4659339Too bad we only have 67 cents or we could put a nice bet on ourselves!
>>4659313>>4659316>>4659339Guess who has time for an update or two this morning? Writing!
>>4659313>>4659316>>4659339Yep, this place hasn’t changed a bit. Well, actually that isn’t exactly fair--the skeletons seem to have tidied the place up in preparation for Back to School Fight: SkeleSlam.Same beige faux-marble floor, same concrete walls, same asbestos-ridden ceiling tiles… Hell, some of the lockers are still the same as always! You remember that dent from tenth grade! That stupid ‘S’ thing on that locker? That was drawn by Paulo Salazar--that guy in your World History class!And look at this crap--this locker hasn’t been cleaned for ages! You can SEE the stink--Wait a minute…As Art politely starts gathering the pieces of the trophy case into a pile on the floor, you find yourself drawn to one of the lockers. At first glance there’s nothing different about it--hell, it’s probably the freshest one in the hall! Why, then, do you see so much green?“Do you see something, Stanley?” Sybil asks, popping her head out of your pocket like a hamster. You don’t respond--instead electing to walk over to the locker and try the combination lock. With a satisfying click it opens, and before you can protest you’re SUCKED into a vast expanse of green. Nothing but GREEN.>CONTD.
>>4659830https://youtu.be/jt3zmsVAakQ Green. Green, green, green. Nothing but GREEN as far as the eye can see--you smell GREEN, you taste GREEN.What do you hear?You betcha--GREEN.Every shade, every style, every texture--GREEN.You blink a few times to give your eyes a break, but nope--guess what you see when you blink?A hint: It starts with the letter G and ends with R E E N.The first two guesses don’t count.Part of you wants to enjoy the peculiar drifting sensation you’re feeling, but the more you scan the horizon, the more you realize that something is off.Something isn’t RIGHT.Maybe Sybil has some info to provide? Ly? You almost consider Art, too, but… Come on now.You shake your arms and legs to wake up your lazy friends, but no one responds. Peering into your pockets you find no sign of your belongings--no TELESCOPING MOP, no COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY, hell, no HAIR POMADE either!Oh, and no Sybil. That’s a big deal too.What you do see is GREEN. Bet you didn’t expect that, right? Green pours out of your pockets like water, slowly coalescing into a growing mound on… Well, green space, you guess.As the GREEN pours out of your pockets, you gradually lower towards the mound, eventually touching down on the beginning of an island adrift in the ever-shifting GREEN.“‘Ello, bright eyes.” You leap at the sound of the unfamiliar voice behind you, landing in a chair-shaped bit of GREEN. Blinking, the green island in front of you becomes populated with a GREEN DESK, a GREEN FILE CABINET, a GREEN BARSTOOL with GREEN LIQUOR, and, most importantly, a GREEN PADDED OFFICE CHAIR. Sitting in the chair is a woman that looks like something out of a picture book, eying you like a lion watches a steak.Whoever they are, they’re wearing a simple GREEN leotard, GREEN long gloves, and GREEN high boots--like the ones you’d see at a disco club once upon a time. Pointed ears jut out from her short, messy GREEN hair, flanked on both sides by gossamer wings, like those of a dragonfly. Or a mosquito.“You’re here about the job, then? Grand.”What do? One thing at a time, obviously--no sense in panicking!>”Yes, yes I am!”>”Where the hell am I?”>”Who ARE you?”>”Clearly this was a mistake--can I leave?”>WRITE-IN
I'll check back in around 4PM PST--unfortunately that's all the time I have this morning. Have fun!
>>4659831>”Yes, yes I am!”With all the same gusto as when Avdol said it.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXj0qn0DBdQ
>>4659831>”Where the hell am I?”
>>4659831>WRITE-IN: "Whoah, are you a fairy? Someone called me a fairy once, didn't understand what that was about..."
>>4659831>”Yes, yes I am!”Act like we know what we are doing!
>>4659841>>4659845>>4659889>>4659893Experience has taught you that when someone, extradimensional being or otherwise, asks if you’re there for a job, you say YES. ‘Always Be Husslin’, that’s your motto!YES, you begin, extending your thumb towards your face, I AM!You shout the second part as you bring your fist down in an arc in front of you, slamming it onto the armrest of your GREEN CHAIR. The woman narrows her eyes as she smirks at you from across her desk.“Brilliant. Nice to finally meet a human with some initiative--oftentimes it’s always ‘Where Am I’, ‘What Are You’, inarticulate screamin’. ‘Tis refreshing, is what it is.”The woman reaches behind her desk and pulls out what appears to be a hookah hose. GREEN, of course.“You, my lucky duck, are going to find me a list.” She purrs, taking a hit from the pipe. Swishing the smoke around in her mouth for a moment, she eventually exhales, releasing GREEN smoke in the shape of a stack of papers. Neato!“Headmaster of the school keeps all the names of the good girls and boys on it--top-ranked students, real high-shooters, like.”Oh, the honor roll, right?“Don’t rush me, kitten.” Snaps the woman, quickly recollecting herself. “Aye, the honor roll. You’re going to track it down for me, bring it back here. Crystal?”No, you’re Stanley.“I mean ‘do you understand’, you knob.”Oh. Do you? >Yea, no problem!>What’s in it for me?>Why do you need that list?>Where do I find it?>Why don’t YOU do it?>WRITE-IN
>>4660370>What's in it for me?Nothin cozier than finishing dinner and coming back to a Bones Quest update!
>>4660444Asking the important stuff! Writing!
>>4660444You cross one leg over the other and lean back in your GREEN seat. Sure, you can grab a list for her--the question is, what’s in it for YOU?“Monkey wants a banana. Figures.” Mutters your new winged employer. “What, my gratitude isn’t enough?” She purrs, running a gloved hand through her hair.You shrug. Gratitude’s nice and all, but it doesn’t exactly pay the bills, does it?“Tch. No… No it doesn’t.” Steepling her fingers on the desk, the woman shoots you a conspiratorial grin.“Howsabout magic, then? That payment enough?”You blink. What, like MAGIC magic?“Yes, MAGIC magic,” she replies, rolling her GREEN eyes. “The black arts, bad juju, real ‘wrath of god’ like.”Leaning back in her seat, the woman takes another toke from the hookah hose.“That offer tickle your fancy, kitten, or would you prefer a payment in ‘dead presidents’? ‘Clams’? ‘BONES’?” She continues, grinning. “Whatever you monkeys are calling it nowadays…”You barely stifle a chuckle--what a RUBE! She’s offering you anything just to track down a measly list! Too bad Ly isn’t here--he would be digging this!“You gonna sit there giggling all day or are we making a deal?” The woman growls, narrowing her eyes again at you. “We’re a busy girl, you know.”We?“The royal ‘we’. Deal or no deal, bright eyes?”>Magic, huh? Sign me up!>The current term is ‘FAT STACKZ’, and I will take some of those, thanks.>You seem like you’re well-informed… How about information? (What would you like to know?)>Now that I think about it, I’d rather not make a deal, sorry!>WRITE-IN
>You seem like you’re well-informed… How about information? (What would you like to know?)"Do you know about this CHOSEN ONE nonsense? Why does the lich need me?"If she doesn't know then instead>Magic, huh? Sign me up!
>>4660640+1This seems a wise course of action
>>4660640>>4660824Info or magic, gimme one of em! Writing!
>>4660640>>4660824 Yes, you begin, that will do NICELY. But you’ve got another idea for your reward--information.This causes the fairy to raise an eyebrow. “Ooh! Fancy that. What makes you think we know anything worthwhile?”Oh come on, she seems like a well-informed girl! Surely she can dig up some dirt for you!”“Flattery will get you nowhere,” the woman begins, “But we DO appreciate it…” Twirling a lock of hair between her gloved fingers, the fairy gives you a cheshire grin.“Alright then, shoot--what can we demystify for you? Once the job’s done, of course.”She made a pretty unsubtle reference to bones earlier--what does she know about this Chosen One’ nonsense? The lich wants you for something--what exactly IS that thing?As your request sinks in, you watch the fairy’s smile gradually droop into a frown.“We’ll field that one for free, love. Got a pen an’ paper ready?”Well, no, but your pal Clarence had some napki--“Here goes--We don’t give a FUCK about what you monkeys do out there--who lives, who dies--it’s about as interesting to us as a caterpillar’s turd.”A simple ‘I don’t know’ would have worked just fine--“You monkeys think you’re so smart snatching up magic that isn’t yours, performin’ rituals, siphoning energy--’Sorcerers’, ‘Witches’, now ‘Liches’! Pricks can’t even DIE properly anymore...” The fairy takes an angry puff from the hookah hose, exhaling a GREEN cloud into the GREENER abyss.“The only thing you’re ‘chosen’ for as far as we’re concerned, kitten, is this job. You dance like a good little monkey, maybe you’ll get a banana. Understand?”Yow, yes ma'am! The fairy nods, then turns her chair’s back to you.“Grand. Now if there’s nothing else, piss off until you find that list--you’ll know where to bring it.”The GREEN begins to close in on you as you begin to feel light-headed. As you feel yourself drifting away, you call out to the figure behind the desk! Wait, what about the MAGIC?! “Do the trick, get the banana, monkey.” The fairy growls. “We’ll be watching you. By the way, you’ve got something on your FACE.”Before you can respond, a sea of GREEN descends upon your vision, and like a pebble being carried through the ocean, you feel yourself drifting once again…>CONTD.
>>4661100You take a ragged breath and find yourself back in reality--well, a part of it, at least. You take a second to get your bearings and find yourself crammed into a locker--an experience not wholly unfamiliar to you.“You need to rotate it past ZERO, Arthur!” Glancing down at your feet you spy Sybil bashing the inside of the locker door with her arm stubs--it would be cute if she didn’t seem so annoyed…“It’s STUCK!” Shouts a familiar reedy voice outside. You sigh--Art.“Hey uh… You awake, cupcake?” Ly asks, finally noticing your movements. Yes, now if everyone could just COOL I-“RRRNGGGH!”With a very un-Sybil-like growl, the doll at your feet glows with energy, bathing the inside of the locker in an eerie blue light! Uh… Hold on a sec, Syb-Too late. One second you’re in the locker, the next you’re prone in the hallway sprawled on top of the locker door. “Holy COW!” Art exclaims, rushing over and helping you to your feet. The skeleton guard from earlier shoots you a dirty look, but you pay him no mind--you’re back now, that’s what matters most!“Stanley!” Sybil cries, floating over with the most apologetic look a doll can muster. “I’m sorry, I lost my temper and… Well clearly I need to conserve my energy, you could have been--”No no, It’s cool. Stanley is A-Okay! You give her a reassuring thumbs’ up and your trademark smile!“That’s good to hear...” Sybil replies, smiling back at you.“What happened?” Art asks, brushing the dust off of your shoulders, “You just… Turned off for a second back there…”Before you answer that, you have a question of your own...“Sure, name it.”What exactly is on your face?>CONTD.
>>4661105No matter how hard you try, the stupid marker ISN’T COMING OFF! You hiss in pain as hot sink water dribbles against your face. “It would appear the administration never solved that water pressure problem…” Sybil muses, manning the sink knobs.“It was a JOKE, okay?!” Art groans, gingerly rubbing the jaw area of his mask,”You didn’t have to PUNCH me.”He’s lucky that’s all he got! You thought you had a DOPPELGANGER, damn it! Scrubbing your face vigorously, you frown at the marker mustache taunting you in the bathroom mirror--how could you be so naive?!“While we’re here…” Sybil begins, turning up the heat a little bit, “Would you care to explain why you crawled into a locker and passed out, Stanley?”You grin as a corner of the mustache begins to fade. You met with a fairy, if they can believe it--got a job from them too--or is it a quest? They promised you magic, too!As you continue scrubbing, Sybil sighs and makes her way over to the other sink knob. Wait a minute, that’s the cold o-You reel backwards and howl like a mad dog as a jet of frigid water blasts your face!“Looks like the cold water works…” Grumbles Art, moving out of your way. What the HELL!?“Stanley,” Sybil begins, wagging her arm stump at you with a serious look on her face, “Don’t even JOKE about the Fae--playful though they may seem in story books, in reality they’re no laughing matter!”Glaring at Sybil, you shake the water from your hair onto the grimy tiled floor. You weren’t joking--you were sucked into a GREEN world and you got a job! She was going to give you magic as long as you track down the principal’s honor roll!“Stanley, assuming this was all true, did you even stop to think why this fairy might want a list of highly-intelligent children?”You shrug. Networking?“Stanley, the Fae are considered by some to be on the same level of DEMONS. Do you really believe giving them a list of children’s names and addresses will lead to anything beneficial?”“I mean…” Art begins, fiddling with a pouch on his rig, “If the high achievers are gone then the grading curve might even out a bit, right?”Sybil shoots Art a withering glance, causing him to look away. Okay then, Professor, what should you do?>CONTD.
>>4661109“Assuming what you said is true and not just some hallucination from that vile concoction you chugged earlier… You might not have a choice.”You blink. Neat, thanks for the lecture then. Sybil shakes her head. “You don’t understand, Stanley--the Fae aren’t ones to trifle with… You’re standing on very thin ice, to use an appropriate expression.”Psssh, what, are they going to come and GET you or something? Take you to a BUTTERFLY TEA PARTY?Sybil looks at you like a doctor about to deliver some bad news. Oh for crying out loud...“Hey, woah!” Art intervenes, “Maybe it’s just stress and chemicals! Stan, you’ve been… It’s been a wild day. Maybe it’s just everything catching up to you!”Hey, you LIKE that explanation--why don’t you go with that? Sybil shrugs.“I don’t have to tell you that you’re in grave danger if you ignore the Fae… But we have other pressing issues to attend to, so let’s drop it for now.”“Yea, we can do da’ sidequest whenever we want, cupcake.” Ly remarks, giving you an astral thumbs up. Yea, FANTASTIC.“So uh…” Art begins as you approach the sink again, “What IS the plan? No word from Rocky on the intercom yet…”You turn the hot water on again and continue to scrub. What IS the plan?>I don’t like leaving sidequests unfinished--let’s find that list in the OFFICE.>School tour is still on, Art--wanna see the POOL?>Sybil, we oughta show Art the BOILER ROOM!>Let’s go check out (WRITE-IN)Last update of the night--will most likely check in tomorrow around 1-2PM PST!
>>4661110>Let’s go check out (WRITE-IN)Cafeteria. If they've got some MILK, maybe we can give our buddy Ly a power-up!
>>4661126>>4661143Guess who got a date wrong and is now available? This guyyyyyyWriting!
>>4661126>>4661143As you mull the options over in your head, you’re interrupted by a growl emanating from a part of your body even more obnoxious than Ly--yep, your STOMACH.Hey gang, how about we hit the cafeteria? Art shrugs.“I could eat. The popcorn from earlier was good, but who knows when we’ll get a chance to eat again…”“I’ll be fine.” Sybil replies, floating back into your pocket. “Just finished a bowl of Pho on my end…”Oh right, her dimensional pocket, or whatever. How much food did she even bring with her in there?“A few year’s worth--most of it is nonperishable. Need to be prepared for when you fail!”Wait, what?“I said for if you fail.”Okay, cool.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The walk to the cafeteria is more alienating than ever. In place of other students, you and your group are stared at by skeletons of all shapes and sizes. Playing cards, smoking, some are even trying on football gear--you get the feeling they’re ready to watch a fight!You give a polite wave as you stroll past, ignoring the snarls and… creative gestures aimed at you and Art. Passing the science lab, music room, and even a janitor’s closet, your entourage eventually reaches the cafeteria entrance where a large mob of skeletons has congregated!“Alright, alright, one side, ya maniacs!” Shouts a greaser through an orange plastic bullhorn. Below him stands a phalanx of four big skeletons, each one decked out in full football pads and wielding baseball bats with nails crudely hammered through them.“Guess they found da’ shop class…” Ly remarks, stretching above you to get a better look. “Da’ hell are ya’ doin’?!” One greaser shouts, waving an angry fist at the skeleton with the bullhorn, “Show us da’ MILK!”Ly’s eye sockets go wide in recognition.“Stan--da’ MILK! We gotta get some!”Eh, you’re more of a grape juice kinda girl--a sharp pain in your skull interrupts your train of thought! OW!“Calcium, you goof. Get me some of dat’ and I promise I’ll use it!”“He might have a point…” Sybil muses, peeking at the crowd from your pocket. “The rampant magical energy brought on by the lich’s necromancy coupled with the skeleton’s need for calcium? I can only imagine what kind of effects those reactants could have!”Art shifts his stance uncomfortably. “Er… Sybil? You’re drooling again…”The doll surreptitiously wipes her mouth on an arm stub.“Ehrm. Yes, well… Stanley, you’re the ‘face’ of our organization. Why not see what all the ruckus is?”If face means ‘person who actually gets stuff done’, then sure. Shoving through the sea of leather jackets and cigarette smoke, you make your way to the front!>CONTD.
>>4661774It’s not the first time you’ve pushed your way to the front of a crowd--you still have that chip in your cheekbone from that Osteonecrosis concert Gus dragged you to! A few skeletons react, but back away when they realize who you are. Maybe you’re finally getting the respect you deserve!Either that or they don’t want to mess with the odds of the upcoming fight. When you reach the front you’re met by a wall of nailed bats barring entry to the cafeteria. The skeleton with the bullhorn glares at you like you just interrupted his performance.“Da’ hell do you, want, meat popsicle? Da’ roach motel’s closed, dig?!”No, you DON’T dig. Why exactly is it closed?“Technological differences.” He replies, stumbling over the words. You reply with a frown--what a coincidence, you just happen to be a janitor! The last word in your sentence causes the skeleton’s tough look on his face to falter a bit.“Hmmm. You definitely smell like one. Alright, let ‘er through.”The phalanx opens at the center, allowing you and Art to squeeze through. Bullhorn kicks the cafeteria door open and motions you to follow, which you do. Passing into the cafeteria, you try to ignore the sounds of shouting and cracking bones behind you--seems like these guys really want their milk!“You don’t know da’ half of it, kid.” Bullhorn replies, leading you through the entrance hall. “Hell, if it were up ta’ me I’d be drinkin’ it all right now.”“So why aren’t you?” Art asks sardonically, “You don’t strike me as a ‘sharing’ type.” Bullhorn responds with a chuckle.“You’re sharper than ya look, bugeyes. Truth is, we can’t exactly get to it.”You blink. What, did they forget a key or something? Shaking his head, Bullhorn pauses before a corner and pokes his thumb around it.“Somethin’ like dat’. See for yourself.”Peeking around the corner, you instinctively stumble back a few steps from what you see! The cafeteria is dominated by a pulsating, dripping brown mass covered in glowing eye-like stalks. Ducking back around the corner, you cover your mouth and nose as you feel bile rising in your throat--it smells like ROADKILL!“What does?” Art innocently asks, peeking around the corner. The sight hits him even harder, sending him stumbling backwards into the wall!“Wha-that’s… What IS that?!” He stutters, grabbing for his rifle!“The macaroni casserole…” Sybil mutters, “It LIVES.”What do?>Leave. Well, that milk sounded good, but what can ya do?>Grill the skeleton for more info--what does he know?>Examine the area more thoroughly. Maybe there’s something you can use?>Shoot it! SHOOT IT!>WRITE-IN
>>4661775>WRITE-INI'm hearing dripping mass, organic, perhaps even...mucousy? It's finally time to bring back a classic item>1 SPRAY BOTTLE w/CLEANING FLUID! (Note: keep away from skin and mucous membranes. FLAMMABLE)
>>4661786Its time to use our special skills of JANITORIAL COMBAT!
>>4661817>>4661818Something something meme about 'our hands look like this so Ly can look like this'
>>4661786>>4661817>>4661818>>4661821Stan doing JANITOR things? Someone get a camera! Writing.
>>4661786>>4661817>>4661818Wait a minute--you have just the thing for this! You quietly apologize to Sybil as you rummage around in your pockets, eventually whipping out your SPRAY BOTTLE currently loaded with a homegrown cocktail of only the finest cleaning agents--a spicy little number you like to call The Beast. Holding it aloft prompts a chorus of oohs and aahs from your entourage, and even the viscous mass making its home in the cafeteria seems to shudder in fear and respect.“You think dat’s gonna be enough, cupcake?” Ly asks, leaning closer to read the faded bottle label. You shrug--you’ve seen it melt rat carcasses over a few days--at the very least that THING back there won’t like it. Not to mention it’s flammable as heck.The bad news, however, is that you need to get closer for maximum effect. Is it dangerous?“Ask my buddy Norton.” Replies Bullhorn, gesturing to the quivering abomination. “He’s probably dissolving in there somewhere…”Great. Cracking your neck, you take a few cursory steps towards the blob, a look of resolve cemented on your freckled face!“Stanley, WAIT!” Sybil shouts! You let out a resigned ‘heh’. Figures that Syb would try to talk you out of this…“Oh no, you go and do your thing.” Sybil backpedals, “I was just going to ask that you hand me off to Art before doing it. You know… Just as a precaution!”Oh. Sure. Passing the doll to Art, you slowly approach the casserole like a gunslinger in a movie. Sensing your presence, you watch as several goopy tendrils explode from inside the mass, rearing back like cobras about to strike!“Time ta’ throw out da’ leftovers…” Ly quips. Dang it, why didn’t YOU think of that?!>Roll 1d100 to do your job--I’ll take the best of THREE rolls or whatever I have after an hour! As per usual, descriptions can only help your odds!
Rolled 87 (1d100)>>4661883Spray the casserole, then flash him a smirk as we flick on one of our two lighters. "Looks like this Casserole's overcooked"Toss the lighter in, push up our shades, and turn around, walking back towards our companions cool guy style
Rolled 15 (1d100)>>4661883>Roll 1d100 to do your job--I’ll take the best of THREE rolls or whatever I have after an hour! As per usual, descriptions can only help your odds!unscrew the top of the bottle, give it a lil english on the toss. And then flambe appropriately.
Rolled 88 (1d100)>>4661883Spray it right into the thing's eyes, then light it up and laugh evilly (because a janitor is a villain to garbage, you see, and a super janitor is a supervillain)
>>4661904>>4661960>>4662096>Highest roll: 88Writing!
>>4661904>>4661960>>4662096Striding forward, you dodge under a casserole tentacle, taking the opportunity to douse it with spray! With an alien shriek the appendage retracts, disappearing into the beast’s girth with naught but a faint scent of citrus. Another tentacle snatches at your feet, but you deftly leap forward and bombard the mass with more spray!Several eyestalks disappear into the mass as the Eldritch Casserole hisses in pain, its body dripping with cleaning product. Staring the beast in its remaining eyes, you unscrew the top of the spray bottle with a mad grin! Lashing out like a mad dog, the thing takes one last swipe at your midsection, but you easily limbo under it. Before it can recover from the whiff, you toss the bottle and its remaining fluid at the center of the creature, whipping out one of your ZIPPIO LIGHTERS as it spins through the air!Looks like this casserole’s... You begin, flicking your shades into place, Overcooked.With a wet splut your spray bottle embeds itself into a particularly meaty section of the casserole. By the time the abomination realizes what’s happening, it’s already too late--the mystery meat only has enough time to let out one last shriek before you chuck your lit lighter, laughing like a cartoon supervillain!You don’t get to see what happens next, but that’s okay--the looks on your pal’s faces paint enough of a picture. Even Bullhorn drops his titular tool as you feel a whip of heat rush against your back! Walking calmly back to the entrance, you stop dramatically in front of your associates and peer at them over your shades.Lunchtime is over, baby.>CONTD.
>>4662395Ly’s the first to break the silence. “Just in case you were wonderin’, kid--dat’ last bit wit’ da walk? CINEMATIC. Don’t worry, I watched!”You whisper a quick ‘thanks’ and turn around to survey the damage--all that remains of the Casserole From Beyond the Stars are several burnt chunks stuck to the walls, ceiling, and various tables. The trail of lunch meat disappears into the kitchen, giving you a hunch about where it originated.“That uh…” Art begins, twirling his rifle on the ground, “That’s that, I guess…”“Holy CATS.” Bullhorn mutters, still surveying the carnage. You scan Art for any sign of Sybil, but it’s too late--she’s already among the ruins, picking at the remains of the beast.“Just THINK of the possibilities!” She raves, examining a charred slab of meat. “Magic? Chemistry? Culinary Genius? Ooooh, the mind boggles!”Cackling to herself, the doll’s manic eyes glance back towards you and Art.“Today’s positively BRIMMING with podcast material! If only I had the forethought to tell one of you to record before annihilating it!” Sybil growls, smacking the side of her head with her arm stumps. “Maybe we can grab a sample or two in the kitchen?” Art asks, approaching the doll.“Brilliant idea, Arthur--hurry, before it gets cold!”Your associates are gone before you can get a word in. Turning back towards Bullhorn, you catch him slowly making his way towards the kitchen as well. Just where does HE think he’s going?“Who, me? I uh… I was just going ta’ check on da’ frozen goods--just in case da’ sherbert melted, dig?”You frown. Was he now?“What are you implyin’, kid? Hey, you did a boss job of doin’ da’ dishes, but I’ve got a job ta’ do, so…” The skeleton hastily motions you away. “Put an egg in your shoe and beat it, will ya?”What do?>Strike him down--the milk belongs to YOU.>Make a deal--maybe this guy can be useful.>Leave him--you don’t need a bunch of milk anyways.>WRITE-IN
>>4662398>Make a deal--maybe this guy can be useful."Listen Bullhorn, I got a gang and we could use a hype man. You don't say anything about this and we can split the milk. I take 80 percent, you take 20, and you come work for me- capiche?"
>>4662398>Make a deal--maybe this guy can be useful.>4662403+1But lets not hesitate to clean his clock if he tries shit.
>>4662454Absolutely. He tries to pull a fast one and he goes down hard!
>>4662403>>4662454Guess we're going to deal with it! Writing.
>>4662403>>4662454A plan forms in your brain as Bullhorn slinks in the direction of the kitchen. Listen, uh… BULLHORN, you begin, stopping the aforementioned skeleton dead in his tracks.“My name’s Eddie.”Eddie! He sounds like he knows a deal when he sees one!The skeleton turns around to face you fully. “...I’m listening.”Well, you begin, twirling a lock of your short chestnut hair, how would he feel about splitting the milk a bit? Eighty twenty?“Gee, what a steal.” Bullho-errr, EDDIE, replies sarcastically. “Listen, thanks an’ all for clearin’ out da’ gunk, but those guys outside ain’t gonna stick around and wait for long. Rocky wanted dat’ milk distributed hours ago.”And what, he’s going to take it all for himself? Eddie shrugs. “I figure I get a few swigs in, I don’t gotta worry about dose’ lugs outside clubbin’ me half ta’ death.”What if, you begin, the MONSTER ruined all the milk?Eddie furrows his non-existent brow.“Come again?”Yea! We took care of it, but oh NO--all the milk was destroyed by the casserole! Darn!You add a disappointed snap of your fingers at the end for good measure as recognition starts to form on Eddie’s face.“Say, you’re right… But hey, at least we tried…” The skeleton replies with an ‘oh well’ shrug!Great! Then he won’t mind if you go and grab your portion right now then, right? You take a few steps towards the kitchen, but pause at the sound of the cocking of a gun.“Actually, I do mind. What if da’ monster took you guys out too? Why take a piece when I can have the whole pie, hmm?”You frown. Your GANG, for starters. The word gang causes Eddie’s grip on his handgun to falter a bit.“Come again?”He heard you. You just so happen to run a gang yourself--skeletons, humans, possessed dolls. Turns out there’s a space for a hype man with a bullhorn if he’s interested. Hell, we even have GANG RULES.“Skeletons, huh?” Eddie replies, keeping the handgun trained on you. “Knew some of da’ guys would crack eventually…”“Careful, Stan, dis’ guy’s a slippery one…” Ly mumbles, keeping his eyes on the gun.>Roll 1d100 to convince Eddie! Remember to include reasons with your rolls--they can only help you out! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4662603"Eddie, baby, listen to me. You ever heard of that King guy? Gone. Terry the Terrible?! Gone. After we get this milk? Rocky will be next. Now, you look like a smart guy- or at least the bullhorn makes me think what you have to say is important- don't you want to be on the winning team's side?"
Gotta get up early tomorrow, but I'll probably check back in around 1-2PM PST. Remember, best of three! See you all then and thanks again for giving BONES QUEST a shot!
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>4662603Basically what this guy says: >>4662613
Oh God someone save us with a third roll pleaseAlso good night and thanks for running! >>4662927
Rolled 64 (1d100)>4662603>>Roll 1d100 to convince Eddie! Remember to include reasons with your rolls--they can only help you out! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!>4662613+1
>>4662613>>4662928>>4662983>Highest roll: 64Writing!
>>4662613>>4662928>>4662983Eddie baby, listen--you begin, trying to avoid looking at the gun pointed at your chest, You ever hear of that KING guy?“Overgrown housecat, right?” The skeleton asks, twisting the handgun. “Yea, word is you took ‘em out. I guess you’ve got some guts…What about Terry the Terrible?Eddie’s gun droops a bit. “Holy SHIT.”Yea, he’s goddamn right. After this milk fiasco Rocky’s next on the shopping list, dig?Eddie shakes the doubts out of his head and regains some of his composure. “You’re crazy, kid. You’re telling me to just drop everything and let you kill my boss?”He looks like a smart guy--or at least the orange bullhorn makes him sound important. In any case, wouldn’t he rather be on the winning team?The skeleton keeps the gun aimed at you as he mulls your words over in his head for a moment. “Tell ya what we’re gonna do, kid--We’ll compromise. You’re gonna march to that kitchen and wait in da corner while I get FORTY PERCENT of dat’ milk.”You’re pretty sure they don’t make forty percent--isn’t it like two or somethi--“Quit bein’ a spaz and listen. Once I get my share, you and your pals get your half and we split amicably. Consider it thanks for dealin’ wit’ the monster.”Yea, about tha--“Shut it. Your friends interfere? BANG. You try to pull a fast one? BANG. You tell any of the goons outside? BANG. You do anything I didn’t tell ya to do?”Bang. You get the picture.“Keen. Let’s take a walk.”Hold on--he doesn’t want to be part of your gang?“Eddie’s only part of one gang, kid--” the skeleton growls, “Team Eddie. Don’t feel like joinin’ your fruity club. Don’t feel like killin’ you either, but I won’t mind doin’ it if it made Rocky happy, dig?”Bummer. “We goin’ along wit’ dis, cupcake?” Ly asks, glaring at Eddie’s gun.You’re not sure yet, but you know one thing for sure--he doesn’t seem up for negotiations anymore…>Follow Eddie’s plan. No need to stir the pot any further..>Pretend to go along, then JUMP HIM when you get the chance!>Try to signal Syb and Art. Maybe Ly can help?>Alert the goons outside--that should provide a distraction!>WRITE-IN
>>4663533>Pretend to go along, then JUMP HIM when you get the chance!As much as I'd like to be ethical and just take the deal, if he's not going to join the gang he has to go since we already told him we have spies on the inside. If word of that gets around, our boys might get found- and it'll definitely hurt our chances of getting any other recruits if the average skeletons know that their bosses are keeping an eye out for traitors. Hopefully our BONE-US Speed can help us out with catching him off guard while he starts to drink his share of the milk.
>>4663533>Pretend to go along, then JUMP HIM when you get the chance!We can just bone slice through his skull
>>4663533>Pretend to go along, then JUMP HIM when you get the chance!He knows too much.
>>4663537>>4663567>>4663599Play along! Writing!
>>4663537>>4663567>>4663599Yes, you begin, you ARE going along with this.For NOW.Eddie frowns at you.“Quit bein’ stupid and march--those guys outside ain’t gonna wait forever.”You slowly make your way towards the kitchen with Eddie following close behind. Crap, why can’t he get closer like in the movies? You’re fast, sure, but you’re probably better off waiting for the right moment…Stepping over a particularly large glob of meat, you spy Art and Sybil over in the far corner of the prep area peering over a meat-stained saucepan. You’re SAVED!“Wild magic, huh?” Art asks, poking at the pan’s charred contents with his finger.“I’d bet my life on it. “Sybil replies, floating over it excitedly. “If what I believe is correct, the meat won’t be the ONLY mystery we run into today…”You can’t help but feel a little annoyed that they haven’t noticed you yet. Taking a moment to glance behind you, you lock eyes with Eddie. The skeleton puts one finger to where his lips used to be, then gestures in the direction of the walk-in freezer.“Yea, god forbid.” Art remarks. “You think Stan’s okay?”Sybil shrugs, not taking her eyes off of the meat. “She’s a grown girl. Besides, she’s not as dense as she looks--she’d let us know if she got in over her head…”Art shoots her a look. “You REALLY believe that?”“No,” she concludes, “But sometimes I like to pretend. Anyways…”You don’t get to hear the end of it before you reach the freezer. “OPEN IT. Hisses your new pal, pointing the gun at the large metal door. Clasping your hand on the cold handle, you take a breath before pulling it open. Hey, maybe it’ll creak and warn your pals!Nope, someone must have oiled the damn thing--the door opens as quiet as a mouse. “Good. Get in and wait facin’ da’ corner.”You wince. This is going well... >CONT.
>>4663751A wave of cold air hits you like a truck as you enter the walk-in freezer. Stifling a shiver, you stuff your hands in your pockets and head to the corner like Eddie told you to do. At least you brought a hoodie!You hear the sound of the freezer door closing behind you, followed by a few careful steps.“So far so good, kid, now for da’ easy part.”You hear a few more steps, than rummaging through a box. “He’s lookin’ for da’ goods!” Ly hisses, peering behind you with his astral projection. Good, this might not be a bad time to turn the tables on this guy…You take a moment to quickly scan your surroundings. Rows of metal shelves stuffed with frozen goods and perishables separate the large ice box into sections--the good news is that while Eddie has a shot at you, it isn’t exactly clear… Then again, shooting a gun in here would murder your eardrums.“Stan, get a load of da’ shelves!” Ly whispers, pointing at the base of the closest one. You know, there’s no fruits or vegetables--that’s the public school system for ya.“The shelves aren’t bolted DOWN!” Ly continues excitedly. Oh hey, that actually might help!“Just sit tight, kiddo,” Eddie grumbles, “This’ll all be over once I find da’ goods…”This might be your best chance--what’s the plan?>Kick the shelves over! It’s loud, but they might fall on Eddie!>You’re fast, no need to complicate things. Just zip over and BONE CLAW him.>Wait a minute, you have a gun too! TWO, in fact! Blow him away with one of those!>WRITE-IN
>>4663762>You’re fast, no need to complicate things. Just zip over and BONE CLAW him.
>>4663762>You’re fast, no need to complicate things. Just zip over and BONE CLAW him.These claws aint just for attracting mates!
>>4663826>>4664017>>4664033Sorry about that--all of this kitchen talk made me hungry and I whipped up some dinner--now it's time to whip up some WRITING!
>>4663826>>4664017>>4664033You shake your head--no need to go loud with this! You have CLAWS! You have SPEED! You have STEALTH! Peeking once more in Eddie’s direction, you see his head buried deep in a cardboard box--now’s your CHANCE!“Who da’ hell put alla’ dese FORKS in here?!” Yep, he’s distracted.“Give em’ da’ old one-two, Stan!” Ly whispers excitedly! Oh, you’ll give him a few more than that!>Roll 1d100 to take a page from your favorite Stealth Game and take Eddie out. I’ll take the best of 3! As per usual, descriptions can only increase your chances!
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4664153Use our EMU legs to jump forward and land on his shoulders."Nothing personnel, kid"Claw to the skull.
Rolled 97 (1d100)>>4664153Stan, do you remember the basics of CQC?
Rolled 41 (1d100)>>4664153leap at him with our claws, pierce his skull and tear it from his spine, then stomp on it. spiked boots make it extra painful
>>4664180>>4664163>>4664189>Highest Roll: Ninety-FUCKING-SevenWriting!
>>4664163>>4664180>>4664189Darting from the corner, you scamper around the shelves, extending your claws as you approach the unsuspecting skeleton!“Is dat’ a… Ooh, I’m holdin’ on ta’ dis…” Eddie emerges from the box with a handful of PLASTIC FORKS and a handle of SCOTCH. By the time he notices you barreling towards him, it’s already too late!He raises his gun at you, but you don’t give him a chance to fire--a quick swipe sends his arm tumbling into the corner, the gun along with it. Before Eddies can register what’s happening, you leap upwards and plant your boots on his shoulders.“A-a-a-any chance I could still join your gang?” Eddie whimpers, bones clattering like a xylophone.Nothing personnel, kid.Eddie doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Stabbing your claw into his skull like a toothpick into cheese, you’re surprised by how easily it all pops out! You hold it aloft for a moment, watching as the holes you bore begin to glow with familiar blue flames. Wow, much easier than Nico, that’s for damn sure!Dropping Eddie’s skull to the cold floor, you hop off of the skeleton’s shoulders and land with a CRUNCH onto his pompadour. “Count ya’ syllables, cupcake, cuz’ dat’ was POETRY.” Ly remarks, surveying the damage. Admiring your handiwork, you and Ly are interrupted by a change of pressure and a gust of slightly-warmer air!“THERE you are!” Sybil shouts, soaring through the open freezer door like a fighter jet.Kept you waiting, hu-OOFYou’re interrupted by a tackle to your stomach and topple to the floor, groaning.“Guess our speed didn’t help that time…” Ly quips, putting his astral hands on his astral hips.“We turned around for one second and you were GONE!” Sybil pouts, floating above you. “I thought it was another ‘fairy’ episode or something!”Art shrugs. “You do like to wander off…”JUDAS. You’re calling bullshit this time--you were just marched to the freezer as a hostage and none of them even noticed! Eddie pulled a GUN.Sybil and Art shoot each other a guilty glance.“Yes, well…”“You see…”They were studying the meat, weren’t they? Nerds!“Stanley, try to understand--the presence of that meat abomination suggests a wild magic contamination of colossal proportions! To let a sample like that go to waste would be tantamount to--”“What she means is,” Art cuts in, “Is that we’re sorry. Though to be fair you’ve had your share of goofs today as well.”You shrug--fine, you’ll take it. >CONTD.
>>4664270You’ll also take that MILK, please! Upon hearing the word milk Ly starts hopping up and down!“HELL YEA! HOLD DA’ CEREAL, PLEASE!”That’s the enthusiasm you were looking for! Tossing the bottle of SCOTCH to Art, you begin dissecting the cardboard boxes in the back of the freezer. Apple juice, grape juice, jungle juice… BINGO! Your ransacking leads you to TWO WHOLE 48 PACKS of DAIRY-GOOD LOWFAT MILK! Holding them aloft like Excalibur, you grin conspiratorially at Ly and your pals.“What?” Sybil asks, eyeing the package above your head.“WHAT what?” Ly replies, gesturing towards the dairy products. “Dis’ is our secret weapon! Stan and I worked real hard ta’ get it!”“I see.” Sybil remarks, raising a yarn eyebrow. Earth to Sybil, BONES and CALCIUM.“I assure you my connection to the material plane is perfectly clear, Stanley.” Sybil retorts, floating up to examine the products. “I just worry that this might not have the effect you expect.”Offended, Ly glares at the doll. “No offense, teach, but who’s da’ skeleton here?”Yea, tell her!“Stan, do you even know how calcium affects bones?” Sybil asks with her teacher's voice. Uhhh…. Pass?“Well I do!” Ly huffs, “And we’re gonna power up right here, right now--Rocky won’t know what hit ‘em!”“Is Ly talking, or is Stan just not making sense again?” Art quietly asks. “Ly’s talking, Arthur,” Sybil answers, “Though I believe he’s the one not making too much sense this time around.”“Da’ heck’s DAT’ supposed ta’ mean?” Ly snaps, leaning towards the doll.“Firstly, do you expect Stan to drink all of that?”Ly deflates a little. “I mean… She’s uh… She’s a trooper…”“Secondly, I suggest you read the label before opening anything.”You take a closer look at the milk cartons. Hey, these were packaged in Clearwater, Florida! The HELL?“Not that, Stan, though it might interest you to know that there are multiple cities named Clearwater.” Sybil explains, not tearing her gaze away from Ly.Let’s see… Expiration date… Wait a minute--THE YEAR PART IS SMUDGED!https://youtu.be/ePRZC_OulYcYou can’t… YOU CAN’T DRINK THIS!“Stan!” Ly cries, “This… This is our ticket to more power--don’t tell me you’re gettin’ cold feet!”“Use your brain, Stanley!” Sybil adds, “Is food poisoning the price to pay for power?”“It’s probably not ALL expired, cupcake!” Ly pleads, “We can try some and burn da’ rest if we need to, but come on--TRY!“It will smell HORRIBLE if you open just ONE, Stan--you know it and so do I!” Sybil growls.“Uhhh, follow your heart, I guess.” Art murmurs, attempting to join in.>CONTD.
>>4664271Oh NO! This might be the toughest decision yet! You want more power, sure, but if you taste, smell, or even SEE rotten milk you're gonna RALPH! What do?!>BURN IT ALL--we won’t let the skeletons get it.>I’ll try a little--may fortune favor me…>Screw it, let’s just shotgun a bunch--that’ll give Ly something to work with.>WRITE-IN
>>4664276>WRITE-INOkay I've got two ideas here, and if either of them sound good then you guys let me know..1. We stash this milk away to power up our GANG MEMBERS instead of us. They don't have digestive systems, so no problem!2. We find a GUINEA PIG- an easy to manipulate skeleton who'll drink it all for us. Then we just take em down and drink their marrow
>>4664285OR OR3. We poison it. Salt takes away calcium and a lot of it can erode bones according to google. Maybe we spike it with loads and loads of salt and let the skeletons take it back to Rocky to weaken him?
Sounds like you've got a few good write-in ideas forming! I'll check in tomorrow around 4PM PST after work--hope to see you all then! Have a good Monday!
>>4664285Kinda with option 1 here, but I also do want to try finding some non-expired milk. We could really use a small bone-us before we have to fight Rocky. Which, speaking of, we gotta make sure we have some tricks planned for this. Maybe loading our gloves with something heavy? Idea number 3 isnt a bad plan either if we can figure out a good way to get the milk heading to him. Maybe use one of our gang to infiltrate?
>>4664285>>4664276Rocky will probably suspect something if the milk tastes salty, so I'm voting for the plan number 1
>>4664497>>4664609Im hearing try our luck with a single carton of milk and bring the rest to the gang maybe? Alternatively for an edge against Rocky we could finish our sidequest with the fae to get that sweet, sweet magic
>>4664774Yeah Fae magic powerup is definitely high up on list of shit to do before the match, we are gonna want whatever tricks they got. Though I am nervous about the long term consequences of taking a deal with a faerie, even if its the absinthe one.
>>4664285>>4664497>>4664609From the looks of things it appears we're gonna try ONE CARTON and bring the rest to THE TRIO. Writing!
Okay, okay, everyone COOL IT! Especially Ly--he’s acting uncharacteristically edgy right now!The astral projection of your skeleton relaxes his posture a bit at the sound of your words.“You’re uh… You’re right, cupcake. Sorry, teach--wasn’t using my head back there.”Sybil shrugs. “I should apologize too--I was also jumping to conclusions. In any case, what should we do with this anyways?”“Well we ain’t gonna let it fall into da’ wrong hands, dat’s for sure…” Ly growls, rubbing his chin.What if, you begin, we let it fall into the right wrong hands?Ly and Sybil silently stare at you for a moment debating whether or not to punch you while Art fiddles with one of his pouches.You sure as hell don’t want to drink expired milk, but guess who doesn’t have taste buds anymore?“The TRIO!” Art exclaims, pounding a fist into his palm! You nod, grinning. Precisely! Sybil joins in on the smile and nod party too.“Not a bad plan at all… They’ve proven their loyalty thus far--it would certainly make them more effective when push comes to shove…”Ly mulls the idea over in his head for a bit and shrugs.“I guess it makes sense when ya’ put it ‘dat way…”Your skeleton puts an astral arm around your shoulder.“Besides, we’re just gonna get stronger once we cream him in da’ ring! Right, partner?”You can’t help but giggle at that last bit--yea, he’d better believe it! “The only obstacle left is deciding how to get these to the others…” Sybil muses, poking an arm stub at the case of milk. You frown--you could empty it all into your MICRO-BUCKET, but you’d have a lot left over… Maybe Art could dump it in his helmet?“Yea, no thanks. Not about to put rancid milk in my mask.”Some team player HE IS. Wait a minute--THAT’S IT!>CONTD.
>>4665642“What is?” Ly asks, raising a spectral eyebrow. You can just stuff it in one of those SportsAde Coolers! They should have some in the LOCKER ROOM!You can’t help but feel a little snubbed when no one responds excitedly. Not even ONE clap!“Good idea, Stan!” Sybil replies encouragingly, “However, since we’re already here why don’t we just put the milk back in the box and carry it out?”You blink. Hey, that’s not a bad idea either. Yea--that’s great, actually! “We can layer some other stuff on top to hide it, too!” Art adds. “That way those goons outside won’t suspect a thing!”But what... Before you can adopt a proper thinking pose you watch Sybil’s doll eyes grow five sizes too big for her head. Oh no, absolutely NOT.“COME OOOOON, STAN!” Sybil begs uncharacteristically, “We don’t need to take all of the casserole, just enough for me to run a few tests on later!”Yea, and enough to cover TWO 48 packs of milk! Sybil glances down at her toes.“Well… Yes…”Fine, but ART is carrying it. You gotta save space for other gear. Sensing responsibility, Art begins to backpedal.“Hey, hold on a second here--what about my le--”Sybil rockets over to the guard, tugging him by the shoulder.“We can toss the rest in your pouches once we pass the goons outside, now let’s GET SAMPLING.” Sybil growls through her doll teeth. If Art has any qualms, he sets them aside.“Lead the way…”The two disappear outside of the freezer leaving you and Ly on MILK DUTY. Letting the cases drop to the floor, you crouch beside them and examine them closer. “See any fresh ones?” Ly asks, stooping beside you. Nope, and there’s no way to tell! Ly responds with a shrug. “I peeked into ‘em too--can’t make anything out. Teach is right, though--you don’t want to make yourself sick before a big fight…”You shoot Ly a mischievous grin--what does he take you for, a LIGHTWEIGHT? You can probably handle one carton… Ly pauses for a moment, then blinks with recognition.“You uh… You sure?”You nod. There’s no way ALL 48 are bad, right? You’ll just choose one at random and pop it open--worse comes to worst you toss it in the corner! “Okay… I uh… Thanks, Stan. I won’t let ya’ down no matter what.”Yea, yea, now help pick a carton.>Roll 1d48 to choose a carton! I’ll take the best of three, but BEWARE--some of these HAVE EXPIRED!
Rolled 38 (1d48)>>4665646Here's hoping it goes well!
Rolled 35 (1d48)>>4665646
Rolled 5 (1d48)>>4665646
>>4665652>>4665662>>4665932Whoops, sorry folks--got caught up watching a movie. Writing!
Closing your eyes and tracing the top of a case with your finger, you count an inordinate span of seconds until you feel like you’ve orbited enough. Opening them once more, your finger hovers over a particularly innocent-looking carton of milk, then starts to tremble.“You… You don’t have to, Stan…” Ly whispers, but you shake your head firmly. You don’t… But you WILL. Getting the carton is as easy as slicing through the thin plastic protective layer with a claw. Holding your potential last meal aloft, you frown--what does Lady Fortune have to say about all of this?“Remember, if it looks gross you can just toss it in da’ corner or something.” Ly remarks, peering over your shoulder. With a nod of determination, you pinch the carton’s opening and pull!And PULL!“You’ve gotta tear harder, cupcake.”Damn it, you NEVER got the hang of these things! They would either never open or EXPLODE on you! With an impatient groan you take a BONE CLAW and slice the top off--reeling back at the thought of what might be inside!Ly… Is it… safe?You wait for what feels like ages until Ly decides to give you an answer.“It uh… I don’t know how to say this…”Oh NO, you can already FEEL the PUKE!“It looks okay to me!”You turn to frown at the open carton. Well THAT was worth a roll! Taking a few cursory sniffs, your senses confirm that the milk looks, smells, and even sounds like relatively fresh dairy. Glancing at Ly, you shrug.Down the hatch!Raising the carton above your head, you dump the contents into your mouth. Besides not being expired, the milk actually tastes pretty decent--nice and cold, too! Wiping the residual mustache off of your lip, you sit back on the floor just in time for Art and Sybil to return from their science excursion.“STAN!” Sybil exclaims, “You DRANK SOME!?”Oh boy.Funny thing--none of you guys rolled on any of the 24 cartons I chose, so I guess you’re super safe!>CONTD.
>>4666021“Talk about a lucky break!” Art remarks, adjusting the new cargo jostling in his arms. You shrug--maybe it’s the cosmos’ way of apologizing for everything that’s happened so far?“The real question is,” Sybil begins, poking out of your pocket, “Will this have the effect Ly and the others are so certain of?”“I can tell ya right now,” Ly replies, hovering at your side as you approach the cafeteria entrance, “I’m feelin’ pretty darn good. I’ll let you know if anything really changes!”Turning the corner to the entrance, you frown--maybe you’ll have to drink some more anyways… “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Sybil reassures you, “We can cross that bridge once we rendezvous with the trio and decide what to do with it.”Kicking open the cafeteria doors reveals the same phalanx of football-padding legionnaires and a considerably smaller crowd of skeleton greasers. One of the bat-wielders turns to you.“Where’s Eddie an’ da’ goods?”He and one of his associates bars your way, slapping their nail-bats against their bony palms.He uh… He didn’t make it!The batter frowns.“Told ‘im dat’ thing was bad news. Guess you took care of it, eh?”You reply with a grin--it’s what ya do!“Yup, torched it like a marshmallow!” Art adds a bit too enthusiastically. The skeleton eyes the cardboard box in his arms like a hawk.“Party favors?”“It’s not milk if that’s what you’re ask-OOF”Art’s monologue is interrupted by you elbowing him in the gut. Nope, just a sample of the casserole for your NERD friend. She’s big into the occult.If the skeleton suspects anything, he doesn’t show it. Waving your team forward, he and the rest of the batters clear a path through the crowd.“Gotta admit,” Ly whispers, “Dat’ went a lot smoother den’ I thought it would…”Sure it did--too bad Snitchin’ Sally here almost ruined it! You go for another elbow to Art’s side, but he dodges it.“I’m sorry--it just came out like tha--”“HOLD UP, MEATBAG.”You and your entourage freeze in place at the sound of the batter’s voice. As a cold sweat runs down your cheek, you turn towards Art and mouth the words ‘GET READY.’He probably mouths something back, but… You know… His mask. Gingerly turning around, you give the batter a smile and bat your eyelashes a bit.Yeeeesss?“One last thing…” The skeleton growls, spinning the bat in his hand.“Good luck in da’ fight. I bet a lotta dough on you.”You exhale. Of COURSE, thank you! With one last polite wave you and Art scoot down the hall and around the corner. Phew!>CONTD.
>>4666023By the time you arrive in the entrance hall again, not much has changed. A few more skeleton sentries meander near the front door while your greeter from earlier glances impatiently at the intercom, then at you.“Eyyy, there’s da’ star of da’ show. Ring’s just about set up--should be ready soon.”You smile. Good, the sooner you get out of here the better! Taking a seat on the floor next to the trophy case, you ponder your next move.“Just leave these to me,” Art explains, “I’ll get ‘em to the trio somehow. You can just focus on the fight.”Sybil floats out of your pocket and onto Art’s shoulder.“I’ll keep an eye out too. That being said, we still have some time before the fight--any last-minute preparations?”You glance at the ceiling looking for answers, but don’t find any. Unless, that is, bullet holes, fluorescent lights, and ancient wads of gum are the ones you’re looking for. Say, how’s Ly doing anyways? Feeling any different?“Somewhat…” Ly murmurs, flexing his astral arms. “I feel a bit tougher, dat’s for sure. Guess we’ll have ta’ test it out in action…”You sigh--yep, go with the flow. Looks like you’ve got a little time before the fight, but not THAT much--what should you do in the meantime?>Assist Art and Syb in finding the Trio!>Track down that list for the fairy!>Check out the gym before the match starts!>Visit the janitor’s closet for some supplies!>WRITE-IN
>>4666025>Track down that list for the fairy!On one hand, horrible things may befall these children, but on the other...magic in the skeleton apocalypse. I'm so sorry, little ones
>>4666025>Track down that list for the fairy!Those kids are probably already dead anyway
>>4666025>Track down that list for the fairy!Lets pray that we don't regret this.
>>4666026>>4666097>>4666124Got time for a quick update this morning, then it's back to the grind until 4PM PST! Writing!
Being back in the entry hall causes your eyes to keep wandering in the direction of the ruined locker you crawled into when you first arrived. Giving the bent door on the ground a hard stare, you nod--the job. You’ve gotta do it.“Hold on…” Art begins, glancing between you and Sybil, “Didn’t we all agree that doing that could be bad?”“I don’t relish the idea of indulging either a quite-possibly malevolent fairy OR Stanley’s damaged psyche,” Sybil begins, “But whatever gave her this task will no doubt be waiting impatiently until it’s completed…”So what, do you do it or NOT? Sybil shrugs, a conflicted look on her face.“I’ve already said my piece on the Fae--if doing this will put an end to the contract, then so be it.”And if it’s just the lingering effects from that crap you drank in the car?“Then you should absolutely do it,” Sybil replies, “If only to get the idea out of your head. You need to be ready for Rocky, remember?”You nod--hopefully that MAGIC that was promised to you will even the most-assuredly imbalanced odds a bit.“Then it’s settled. You said the…” Sybil pauses, checking the corners around her, “Fairy… Needed the Principal’s Honor Roll?”Yep--gotta go grab the nerd list!“In that case I’d check the office. You know where it is.” Sybil points in the direction of a door not too far down the hall where the words ‘MAIN OFFICE’ sit on a dangling plaque. You knew that!Anyways, sounds like a plan! Rising to your feet, you brush the residual dust and bits of glass off of your pants. Adjusting his grip on the milk box, Art turns to look at you.“We don’t have much time left--do you want Syb and I to track down the guys before the fight, or should we help you search?”Good question!>Let’s all search together!>Art, you track down the guys--Syb, Ly, and I will search.>I’ve got Ly with me--you guys can track down the Trio.>WRITE-IN
>>4666491>I’ve got Ly with me--you guys can track down the Trio.
>>4666491>Art, you track down the guys--Syb, Ly, and I will search.
>>4666503Just for clarity this was me from my phone at work, as a heads up since it's just a random 1 off id popping it
>>4666491>>I’ve got Ly with me--you guys can track down the Trio.
The Trio after downing all the milk
>>4666811[Definitely aroused snicker]
>>4666503>>4666592>>4666757>Syb and Art track down Trio>>4666531>Art walks aloneAlright gang, let's split up and look for clues! Writing!>>4666811AWAKEN, MY GREASERS
You wave Art’s question away with your hand and an appropriately smug grin. That’s quite alright--you and Ly can handle a little scavenger hunt! Sybil nods approvingly.“Good--I’ll assist Arthur in delivering the goods.”Sounds like a plan! Shooting your two pals a lazy salute, you head in the direction of the school office.“Stan, wait!”Rolling your eyes, you turn around mid-stride and nod--yes, yes, you’ll be careful--“No, it’s not that…” Sybil begins, “If we don’t reconvene before your fight, well… Good luck!”Before you can react the doll dive-bombs you, launching herself into a hug at the base of your stomach. Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you give her a few pats while trying to ignore the weird looks the skeletons in the entryway are giving you. “Yea, not that you’ll need it!” Art adds, giving you a thumbs up. You can’t tell if he’s smiling through his mask, but you give him one of your own anyways. Come on, guys…“You hear us, Ly?” Sybil warns, glaring upwards at your face, “Take care of Stan, alright?”“Not a problem, Teach.” Ly replies, resting an astral elbow on your shoulder. “I’ll treat ‘er like she was my own flesh and blood.”Ha ha. Can we go now?Sybil removes you from her vice grip and nods. “Just be careful, okay?”You shoot your pals a few gun fingahs as you walk backwards--when are you no--WOAAAAUUGH!“You uh… Watch out for that plank there…” Art murmurs as Sybil shakes her head. Rubbing where the back of your head impacted with the floor, you slowly rise to your feet again.You’ll uh… You’ll be careful. Yep.Kicking the plank on the floor to the side of the corridor, you resume your trek towards the school office and leave your friends behind.Little did you know that would be the last time you would ever see them…“You shouldn’t be jokin’ about dat’ kinda’ stuff…” Ly mutters.>CONTD.
>>4667141The remains of the door leading into the school office creaks open in perfect horror movie fashion. Faint slivers of light from the hall outside creep in through the doorway, but other than that the room is quiet as the grave… And DARK as one too!“I hear ‘light switches’ are da’ latest trend…” Ly chides. Oh yea, huh. Groping the wall next to the door, your fingers find a shape resembling a light switch and flick it upwards!Seconds later the lights flicker to life, illuminating a maze of cluttered desks, stuffed filing cabinets, and stacks of papers covered in more strokes of red than a slasher movie victim. Ly lets out a low whistle as he surveys the room.“Hasn’t changed one bit, has it?” You shrug in response--They got rid of the fax machine!“Granted. Now where would this list be?”Good question--you never stuck around in the office any longer than you had to, so you never took a moment to get the ‘lay of the land’. The office is dominated, of course, by teacher’s desks--many with name placards you recognize! There’s Mr. Tseng, of course--chess club sponsor and Physics teacher… Ms. Blanchard--English… Mr. Mateo taught Math.... Wow, even Coach Jedrasik’s still around! “Dat’ guy was in LOVE wit’ Boris, wasn’t he?” Ly groans, pinching an imaginary nose. You nod--you almost expected them to elope or something--if he wasn’t chewing you out for a crappy Cod Performance he was worshipping the very ground Boris walked upon…“Let’s not dwell on it. What else we got?”Good call. Well, there seems to be the teacher’s lounge in the back next to the copiers--guess they moved it there when they got tired of all the pranks. Near that is the conference room--your home away from home, dad used to say. Next to that is, well…“Looks like another door to da’ counselor’s office.” Ly remarks, finishing your sentence. “Dr. Koga wasn’t dat’ bad, was she?”You shake your head--she wasn’t bad, no, but you’re not gonna pretend you enjoyed going there! Bet if you looked around you’d find a microphone or something, too.“Don’t be paranoid, cupcake.”You’re not paranoid if it’s true.“Oh hey, there’s da’ principal’s office!” Ly exclaims, pointing across the room. Hey, yea! How could you forget where THAT was? “Still can’t believe a guy named Leonard Teach became a principal.” Ly chuckles, staring at the plaque above the door. Seriously--it’s like Art wanting to be an Artist.“He uh… I think he does, kiddo.”Okay, you’d better choose a place to search or you’re gonna spend the rest of the night laughing at that.>Let’s check THE DESKS--maybe another teacher’s in charge of that?>Hold up--gotta check out that BREAK ROOM.>Arkham’s Raider--the simplest solution is usually the best. PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE.>Wait a minute--maybe the COUNSELOR’S OFFICE has dirt on people!>WRITE-IN
>>4667146>Wait a minute--maybe the COUNSELOR’S OFFICE has dirt on people!My logic being usually the high performers are the ones with the most issues! Also gotta see if there really WAS a mic!
>>4667179Invasion of privacy it is! Writing!
You snap your fingers as you come to a realization--of course! The Counselor’s Office! Ly shoots you a sideways glance.“I would’ve said The Principal’s Office, but I’ve learned to expect this kinda’ reasonin’...”Ease up on the sass for a minute and LISTEN: who’s bound to have the most issues in the school?“... Troubled kids who need help in a system that’s abandoned them?”Psssh, NO! Look how that worked out for you. No, clearly the kids with the most issues are the high performers--how else do they deal with all of that stress?“Early baldness, inferiority complexes and substance addiction?”That does it--you’re not going to ask Ly questions anymore. Crossing your arms across your chest, you take a deep breath and sigh--OBVIOUSLY the counselor is bound to have some information on the honor roll students--maybe they have a list lying around!“You just want an excuse to invade people’s privacy again, don’t you?”What on Earth could Ly be talking about? This is all strictly business! Making an exaggerated ‘PSSSSH’ sound, you creep over to the door leading into the Counselor’s Office and try the handle.Damn it. Locked!“Nice to see someone had some forethought around here…” Ly muses as you slice the door bolt in two with a claw. With a satisfying creak, the door swings open into a room you REALLY hadn’t planned on entering again… And yet here you are!Unlike its counterparts, the Counselor’s Office is neat, tidy, and, dare you say it? Trendy. The soulless beige walls are covered with pictures of nature’s beauty--mountain lakes, forest groves, even a reef! A modern wooden desk with dark grains sits in the corner near a set of matching filing cabinets while the center of the room is dominated by a navy blue L-Shaped Couch, a glass coffee table, and a plush chair to match. You can’t help but shiver--many times in your youth you were seduced by the comfy confines of the couch, but you slap your cheeks a few times to get a grip--it’s not happening THIS TIME!“Feelin’ nostalgic?” Ly asks, taking in the sights. Not one bit. You’re a bit annoyed that there’s no computer to root through--this setup is entirely out of your comfort zone.“Probably has a laptop or somethin’.” Guesses Ly. “We can always do it da’ old-fashioned way…”You follow Ly’s glance over to the filing cabinets. Oh maaaaaaan...>CONTD.
>>4667344“It’s sorted by the alphabet, how do you not understand dat’?!?”There’s a lot of files in these things, stop yelling! You skim through the mass of files one more time with your fingers and groan--this will take FOREVER!“At least we know they’re separated by year. Try da’ one on da’ bottom.”Yea, yea… Opening the bottom-right filing cabinet, you’re once again treated to a bulk of files stuffed with papers, forms, and printouts. Crap, this is just the ‘A’s’?!Fishing a random document out of a file, you squint in an attempt to decipher the words. It’s no good--it’s written in FRENCH or something!Ly leans in closer to take a gander.“That’s uh… I think it’s just cursive, cupcake.”Whatever it is it certainly isn’t English. Tossing the document on the floor you sigh--how are you supposed to find a list in this thing?“Moreover, are you sure ‘dis is what your fairy pal is lookin’ for?” You can’t help but frown--ARE you? She said it was the Principal’s, maybe you’re barking up the wrong tree?Ly shrugs. “We’ll find it, kiddo. Maybe not here, but SOMEwhere…”Smacking your fist against the cabinet in frustration, your eyes catch a glimpse of something familiar amidst the jungle of folders. Pulling the document out, your mind buzzes with recognition--you KNOW this person!“Whatdja’ find?!” Ly exclaims, peering into the document in your hands. You can barely make out the details in the Counselor’s chicken scratch, but you’d recognize this photo anywhere--Tammi Larson: Cheer Captain and two years your senior!“Oh no…” Ly groans, “We’re going to be here for HOURS.”You wipe off the drool forming in the corner of your mouth as you consider the POWER you wield--this is it: the documents on all the people the years you were in school! The DIRT!“Please, Stan…”This is big, Ly! You can barely read these things, but there’s gotta be SOME good info, right? Before he can debate you, you’re already flipping through the files! As if by fate, your finger stops on a file whose name you can just barely make out…>...Boris Ponderosa!>... Sybil Castellanos!>... Stanley Parble!>... Someone ELSE! (WRITE-IN)
>>4667349>...Boris Ponderosa!Time to get dirt on this jackass!
>>4667349>...Boris Ponderosa!We just know this jackass is involved in here somewhere, he's too much of a prick to be nice and die offscreen. Lets get prepped.
>>4667365>>4667424>>4667427Looks like we're gunnin' for Boris. Writing!
You feel your blood boil as you read the name on the folder tab--the ultimate in douchebag technology himself--Boris Ponderosa!You instinctively shake your fist as you hiss the name of your arch-nemesis. Bile swells up in your throat at the mere mention of his name on paper and you can almost hear the sickening muffled beat from his tacky headphones… Ooh, if there’s one good thing to come out of this Skeleton Apocalypse it’s that someone probably wrapped that thing around his neck and choked him out by now!“Or,” Ly adds, “He could be a skeleton.”Part of you wants to break your leg and hurt Ly by extension just for bringing up that possibility, but then you realize he’ll be fair game! Ly clearly notices your manic grin and interrupts your fantasies.“Anyways, we’ve got a folder on ‘em--what are we waitin’ for?!”You close your eyes and take a deep breath--you can’t rush this--you’re finally going to learn all of Boris’ dirty secrets--you need to savor it like wine… A wine made from the tears of someone you REALLY don’t like!No, you’re gonna enjoy this, thank you! Bringing the folder over to Dr. Koga’s plush chair, you flop into it and grin--hey, this is pretty comfy! You always knew she had the better seat…Drum roll please, Mr. Ly.Your skeleton creates a steady roll with his mouth, which is impressive considering he has no tongue! Preparing to open the folder, you chuckle grimly to yourself.I’ve WON, Boris!Throwing the folder open, you feast your eyes on the content inside! Look at all the dirt! Academic achievement awards, university scholarships, letters of recommendation… Photos with friends… ‘Most Likely to Succeed’... Prom King pictures from the one you weren’t invited to…“Stan, you’re uh… You’re shakin’.You’re not shaking! Why would you be shaking?! You’re just enjoying all the dirt you’ve found on your arch nemesis, that’s all--what’s there to be SHAKING abou--Your manic blabbering is interrupted by a stinging sensation in your skull. OW!“It’s for your own good--a bit longer and you woulda’ given yourself an aneurysm.”Animism isn't real, Ly, and neither is this! There’s no WAY someone could be this perfect! You drop the file to the floor, a sense of defeat soaking through your body. What good is saving the world if BORIS is still in it?!Tucking your head between your knees, you groan--this was the big moment! “Stan…”You tried breaking into this room so many times when you were younger, and now that you can it’s all for nothing!“Stan!”There’s nothing. No dirt, no evil secrets, not even a hint of tarnish on that smug, sexy-err, WRETCHED monster!“STAN!”You feel another pinch in your skull! Rubbing the pain away, you’re interrupted by Ly yanking your head in the direction of the file.“Check it out!”>CONTD.
>>4667513You blink a few times to clear the anger out of your eyes, eventually turning the blur in front of you into a printed document--one with Dr. Dana Koga’s letterhead! Even better, it’s typed!“Jackpot, Stan! Let’s read it!”You nod vigorously, enthusiasm rushing back into your body! Snatching the paper off of the ground, you start reading the contents of the missive…Trying out the new printer--thought I’d give my writing hand a break today! Had another session with Boris today--bit of a different tone compared to our usual meetings. Boris came in with much less energy than usual--very out of the ordinary given graduation’s right around the corner. it’s been a few days since he returned from the hospital following the accident at that football game and he still has the brace on--When I asked him about it he remained vague--either he’s not sure what’s going to happen yet or he doesn’t want to talk about it… In any case, him being off the team has dampened his spirits a bit on top of some family troubles at home he wouldn’t delve into. I know it’s unprofessional, but I’m in SHOCK. Seeing this kid like this just seems so out of place--most of our sessions are simple check-ins with a few jokes laced in, but today?Today he just seems… Defeated. Will have to check in with his parents tomorrow--I’m sure they’re probably flying blind as well.You let the memo flutter to the ground as you digest its contents.“Wow.” Ly remarks, floating next to you.You nod in assent, then slowly feel a frown forming on your face. Anger slowly wells up in you, and with a growl you slam the armrest of the chair with your fist! That’s IT?! All you have to go on is he hurt his leg at football? You don’t even remember that happening at the game--just your luck you’d get blackout drunk on that night of all nights!“Guess dat’s dat, huh?”You sigh. Guess so--you're not about to learn Cursive--they can call you when they have an English translation! Hopping onto your feet, you survey the room once more--a lot of secrets pad these walls…“Do you wanna stick around, or are we gonna look for dat’ list?”You glance around the room once more--do you have the time?>Hold on, I wanna test the couch one last time!>Let’s look for another file! I wanna see if I can find (CHARACTER)!>Let’s go--the list is probably somewhere else.>WRITE-IN
>>4667515>Let’s go--the list is probably somewhere else.Onward to the principal's office!
>>4667515>Let’s look for another file! I wanna see if I can find Rocky!He attended the same school.
>>4667615+1Thats a weirdly good idea, we can basically counterspell his blackmail with our own.
>>4667615This is actually really smartChanging vote from here >>4667534to supporting this instead
Hitting the sack now, but I'll possibly be able to check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST and whip up an update. Otherwise I'll put something together tomorrow around 4PM. Thanks for playing!
>>4667615>>4667620>>4667633And what happened next?Well in Clearwater they say--Stanley Parble's Brain Grew THREE sizes that day!Writing!
Wait a minute… That’s IT! Before Ly can react, you hop and slide over the surface of the School Counselor’s desk sending you and several other office supplies tumbling in a heap to the floor! Scrambling to your feet, you start rooting through the file cabinets like a dog digging up a bone--how could you forget?!“Stan, what the hell are--”Rocky, you reply. He used to go to this school--you’re sure there’s some sort of dirt on him here!“Stan, dat’s--” Ly freezes mid-sentence looking like he just swallowed a fly. “Dat’s… Smart! I completely forgot he said dat!”You turn to Ly and give him a smug grin--as expected of The Chosen One, right? Ly stoops down next to you and helps skim the files.“I’m impressed, cupcake! Maybe he’s got some deep-seated issues or some backstory we can use against him!”You frown--hopefully there’s something more concrete than just ‘oooh I hurt my leeeeg’. Stupid Boris. He almost sounds like Art…“There, cupcake!” Ly points at a weathered section of files at the back of the middle cabinet. What makes him so sure it’s there?“Just a hunch. Dat might have tipped me off too…” Your skeleton nods at an old photo of a kid with a pompadour poking out from the bundle of files. He’s right--this might be the best place to look! Sifting through the folders with renewed purpose, you flick through the entire stack two or three times before you finally come up with a match: Rocky Rockatinsky. JACKPOT.Fishing the folder out of the cabinet, you once again flop into the Counselor’s chair and get comfy--he thinks he can hold YOUR dirty secrets ransom, does he?“Hopefully there’s somethin’ actually legible in there…” Ly muses, peering over your shoulder. Eager to find out, you pop the folder open and frown--most of the documents are older and written in that stupid Cursive language this counselor likes so much, but some of the documents paint a broad picture--arrest records, doctor’s notes, hospital visits… You can’t tell if Rocky was a lousy fighter or if he just got into scraps every other day!“Wait a minute--looks like another note!” Following Ly’s gaze, your eyes land on another loose note--and this one has REAL WORDS ON IT! Snatching it in your hands, you quickly begin reading the contents…>CONTD.
>>4668069Trying out the new typewriter--thought I’d give my writing hand a break today!You pause for a minute as the familiarity sets in--Is… Could Dr. Koga be... A vampire?!“No, stupid--it’s written by a ‘Howie Wainright’. See?” Ly pokes at the top of the page where the name sits along with several credentials. You shrug--that doesn’t disprove anything about Koga.“One mystery at a time, please. Let’s keep readin’.” Nodding in assent, you continue.February 14th: finally got that Rockatinsky kid in for a meeting--Had to check outside and see if pigs were flying! I can’t be too hard on him, though--Rocky is clearly a troubled lad. No amount of shop classes, fights, or street races are going to fix that. I tried to talk to him about his home life some more, lord knows that system isn’t working, but he just brushed me off and asked for more nausea pills.I’ll admit I’m not sure whether this ‘condition’ of his is medical or psychiatric in origin--according to files I received from his Middle School Counselor, Mr. Rockatinsky had some sort of incident when he was younger at a hayride on a farm near that ghost town, Joplin. The details were sparse, but from what I can gather the sound of geese makes him queasy. At this point I can’t help but wonder if this condition is psychosomatic--the incident in question occurred when Rocky was younger--one would think this compulsion would die out as he grew older…In any case, the session ended on a positive note! In a strange lapse of openness Rocky confided in me that he felt useless… Helpless. Like he didn’t have control over his own life. I saw my chance to set him on the right path and took it--I told him that if he didn’t take control now, he’d never get it back. I don’t know how effective that advice was, but I watched him leave my office with a gleam of what I believed to be inspiration in his eyes. Hopefully this will spark a change in Mr. Rockatinsky--I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in what happens next! You blink. Great advice, quack. “Dis’ is good, though!” Ly grins, poking at the memo. “Dat’ throwback doesn’t like geese--maybe we can use dat’!You nod--you’ll try anything at this point!Lingering in the chair for a bit longer, you glance around the Counselor’s Office one last time--no sign of the list you’re looking for, but at least you’ve got some other info!What’s next?>The couch… It calls to me…>Hmm… Maybe we have time for one more file? (CHARACTER)>Let’s scoot--the list probably isn’t here.>Search the room for evidence that Dr. Koga’s a vampire!>WRITE-IN
>>4668070>The couch… It calls to me…This prompt has me suspicious, perhaps we'll gain something from this? If nothing major happens or if we're allowed to combine commands, then after trying the couch>Let’s scoot--the list probably isn’t here.To the principal's office!
>>4668070>Let’s scoot--the list probably isn’t here.
>>4668073>>4668086>Couch, THEN Principal's>>4668158>Nah bro just Principal'sWriting!
Whoops, posted crap out of order. Apologies!You’re pretty sure by now that the list the fairy’s looking for isn’t here, so why are you lingering?The couch. It’s always been the couch.“Stan… What are you doing?” Ly asks as you rise from the chair and stagger towards the L-Shaped couch.You just… You just want to test it out again. For research!“Fine, not like we’ve got a DEADLINE or anything…” Ly grumbles. Ignoring him, you lower yourself onto the plush surface of the couch, resting your head against one of its many pillows.Awwwww YEA. That’s the ticket!“If you fall asleep I’m gonna punch y--” Ly’s voice fades as you settle in, and before you can rouse yourself you feel the oddly nostalgic feeling of… A FLASHBACK!>CONTD… CONTD… CONTD...
>>4668195Your name is Stanley Parble and you’d like to think you’re a pretty normal High School student. Sure, you have a few anger issues that don’t mix well with alcohol or your role as your school’s mascot and you have a strange relationship with the game of chess, but aside from that you’re perfectly normal! Honest!“Vell then thees should be a quick meetink!” Your school counselor, Dr. Koga, winks at you through her long, black hair knowingly before taking a sip from her thermos. Yea RIGHT. If this is about the thi--“Thees meetink, Stanley, ees about you.” Dr. Koga interrupts, tapping a pale finger on the notebook in her lap. “And ze sooner you accept zat eet eesn’t a punishment, ze more productive thees sessions vill become…”You shrug and sink deeper into the couch. Whatever!“Now zen…” Dr. Koga begins, flipping through her notebook, “How are theengs?”You blink. Could she repeat that? Her accent’s a little… Tricky.“Theengs, Stanley--I’m askeenk you how you are dooenk.”Oh, right. Say, you never asked her--where’s that accent from? You can’t place it.“Canada.” Dr. Koga recites, almost too quickly. “French Canada. But plees, Stanley, let us focus on you...”Alright, let’s do that. How ARE you doing?>Things are good! Really good!>Meh. Ups and downs.>Where do you START? Life’s been taking a piss on you lately!>Let me tell you what’s been going on… (WRITE-IN)
>>4668198>Where do you START? Life’s been taking a piss on you lately!
>>4668200>>4668224>>4668240>Typical High Schooler answerWriting! This will probably be my last update before 4PM PST--sorry, work waits for no one!
>>4668244Not a problem, thanks for giving us some early updates! Always a treat
Yea, you know what? Let’s focus on you! Dr. Koga grips her pen excitedly and gestures for you to share.First of all, this is now day three that you’ve been forced to eat that crappy new granola cereal from the supermarket--whatever happened to the old one So what if it had sugar in it--it’s not like coffee works by itself Your parents should just be happy that you aren’t doing meth or something because lord knows THAT would give you the boost you need--you like your teeth, though, and you’re pretty sure no one really wants to date a high-schooler with no teeth No disrespect to Mallory ‘Gums’ Grayson, of course, you’re just saying Speaking of dating, Derek? DREAMBOAT Derek? Apparently you heard from Victoria Nyugen that he doesn’t find Chess sexy--so why the hell are you doing it? Oh, oh, and the other day at mascot practice that pile of walking vomit BORIS told you that you weren’t ‘poised enough’ What the hell does that even mean?! You asked him what it meant and he just did that ‘heh’ thing he always does and went to pork one of his twenty six girlfriends talk about BARF I mean you get that he works out and all but the guy is an honest-to-god devil although you think devils in the bible might actually be gods from other countries or something you asked your history teacher about it and they told you to their question was about Druidic ruins around Clearwater You tried to vent to your parents the other day, but they just laughed it off as usual and told you ‘Cod Will Show You The Way’ as if they haven’t already made that joke like eighty times before also your brother’s in another one of his moods and he won’t even watch you play Stab anymore which sucks because you can’t play it alone or you get scared and you certainly can’t watch Gamugo play it did we mention Gamugo it turns out Gamugo isn’t a real alien like you thought he was it was really just some ruse from Japan but you’re still having conflicting feelings about it and your pal Sybil tells you to focus less on that and more on the skinwalker episode coming up but how the heck can you prepare for the skinwalker episode when she won’t even tell you what the skinwalker episode is like she gave you some bear traps the other day yep bear traps just dumped them on your front doorstep which was a blast to explain to your parents and now she’s texting you about your astrological sign or something like what the heck does that have to do with skinwalkers and then you looked it up and skinwalkers might actually be really dangerous so maybe you might need to learn kung fu but you don’t have enough time in your busy schedule and your dork brother doesn’t want to teach you so--“Vell it seems to me zat you hef a LOT on your mind, Stanley.” Interrupts Dr. Koga, scratching a few notes into her notebook. >CONTD.
>>4668287Taking another sip from her thermos, she politely wipes some red liquid off of the corner of her mouth--tomato juice, you recall her mentioning--and glances back at you.“Let’s not spread ourselfs too theen here--I vant to focus on ze root of thees anger--only by plahkeeng eet can ze rest of the weed die, yes?”You nod, rolling your eyes. Fine, she wants to know what’s REALLY pissing you off, huh? Hold on, though--this is confidential, right? No sharing?“Of course, dear. My leeps are sealed…”You take a deep breath. Well, if that’s the case… To be totally honest…What is your BIGGEST problem right now?>You’re scared about the future>You’re worried that your family doesn’t want to connect with you>You’re worried that you aren’t a ‘catch’>You’re worried that you’re being watched>WRITE-IN
>>4668291>You’re scared about the futureIt seems we had every right to be scared.
>>4668291>You’re scared about the future
>>4668291>You’re scared about the futureAlso anyone else catch 'druidic ruins' in that rant? Might wanna check those out or bring that up to Sybil since they may concern the lich
>>4668296>>4668333>>4668377The future is now, and it's frightening! Writing!
To be totally honest, you’re scared--Scared of the future.Dr. Koga nods at you to continue and you do after a quick pillow adjustment. It feels like no matter what you try, it just doesn’t fit. Chess? You kinda fell into that. The Clearwater Cod? That was a dare that went VERY wrong. Even during Blades of Zamarka you feel aimless--you’re good at killing people, sure, but why? When will the blood stop flowing for Mordelia Ravensfire? When will the beast be quenched??“Blades of…?”Never mind. You look around the school and it seems like everyone’s got it figured out--Sybil will probably become famous for her Occult Podcast and probably become a wizard or something, Terry Matthews in your English class is already composing tracks for movies, Linus Choi has a plane ticket and a contact in Yemen to join a mercenary company, hell, even that SHITLORD Boris has colleges lining up to kiss his butt for football!Koga takes another sip from her thermos. “You are jealous of zem.”You frown, but find yourself nodding. Yea, you could say that. It’s like that toy you used to have when you were a toddler with the shaped holes and blocks--you’re still trying to find the right shape, but everyone around is already out in the sandbox or something…Sorry, you’re not good at describing things.“You’ve described eet very clearly, Stanley…” The doctor remarks in a quiet, comforting tone. “And eet might make you happy to know zat you aren’t ze only one with zese… Worries.”There’s more. Ever since Freshman year you’ve been having these dreams...“Zose are all part of groweenk up, Stanley--”Woah woah WOAH, not THOSE dreams! Well.. You’ve had those too, but that’s not what you’re talking about. In this dream you’re swimming.“Fascinating…” Koga muses, scratching more words into her notebook. “At ze beach? Perhaps ze pool?”No, nothing like that--you’re… You guess you’re out at sea. FAR out. Like… Adrift. It’s dark, it’s stormy, and all you know is that you need to get out.>CONTD.
>>4668687The counselor glances at you from over her notebook. “Are you running from sometheenk?”No… Maybe? It’s difficult to tell--you’re always swimming. Doesn’t matter which way you go or how fast you swim, you always resume where you left off.“In ze ocean.”Yea, exactly! You want to know that you’ve made progress or something, but how could you tell? It’s nothing but the same water, same clouds, same storm every time!“Hef you ever tried diving?” Dr. Koga asks, flipping her pen around her fingers.Oh no. No way, Jose. That’s the one thing you never want to do.“Why ees zat, you theenk?”You wait for an answer to come to you, but it never does, causing you to frown more. You just can’t, that’s why.You hear a bell ring somewhere outside the office, followed by the mass migration of feet. “Vee vill leave eet here for today…” Koga purrs, putting down her pen.Wait a minute, what about the moral or whatever? The thing that makes you feel better?Dr. Koga stands up from her chair and eyes you up and down.“I don’t hef one, but I do know thees--ze future is scary, yes, but eet is also an opportunity.”The counselor places her thermos on her desk along with her notebook.“And ze future vill always come vhether vee vant it or not…”>CONTD.
>>4668689“AKE UP!”You return to reality just in time to catch your own fist with your face. The pain coupled with the sudden return cause you to yelp and tumble out of the dark embrace of the couch.“Damn it, Stan!” Ly growls, “You did another flashback, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”It was a short one! “Stan, you’ve got a tricky bastard to fight--we don’t got TIME for flashbacks!”Staggering to your feet, you rub the pain out of your cheek and wince--he’s right. The future will always come…“Very poetic, now can we go?”You take one last look around the room--you didn’t find that list or anything incriminating on your arch-nemesis, but you did find something that might help you with Rocky. Placing your hand on the doorknob you nod--yea, you’re done here.You leave behind the relatively cozy and familiar atmosphere of the Counselor’s Office and return to the Main Office. Making a beeline for the doors to the Principal’s Office, you take one last glance around as you cross the room, but nothing’s changed. Same papers, same desks, same headache-inducing lights. Lingering in front of the double doors leading to the Principal’s Office, you sigh--there had better not be any more CABINETS.Pushing the doors open with familiarity, you eyes take in an all too familiar sight--the stern-faced portraits of past principals lining the wall, the timeless mahogany desk dominating the center of the room, and the two flimsy wooden chairs facing it. The desk itself is covered in forms like the other ones were, but next to the name placard sits the star of the room--the scale model of the school. You always felt it made Teach seem a bit scary. Oh, and behind the desk sits a pair of steel filing cabinets. DAMN IT!“I don’t even know where to start…” Ly mutters. “I’m almost worried we’re gonna get detention or somethin’ for bein’ in here…”Yea, don’t jinx it--if anyone would stay alive during all of this long enough to punish you, it’s Principal Teach. You doubt his opinion of you has improved at all in his old age, either!“Tell me about it. So where would we find ‘dis list?”>CABINETS, I guess. Christ…>The DESK. That’s where the important stuff will be!>Hear me out--what if it’s BEHIND THE PORTRAITS?In the MODEL. The perfect hiding spot!>WRITE IN
>>4668690>The DESK. That’s where the important stuff will be!Also if I'm remembering correctly, was that dream a callback to the nightmare in part 1? If so well done!
>>4668690>The DESK. That’s where the important stuff will be!
>>4668694>>4668790Desk--gotta be! Writing!
In his DESK, duh! Scanning the room one last time, you scamper over to the other side of the desk and get to looting. The spoils, unfortunately, aren’t all they were cracked up to be, and while there’s a wealth of crumpled notes, memos, and other loose papers in the desk drawers, you find them lacking in the inventory-worthy variety of goods. Most are written in that Cursive you’re beginning to hate, and the others seem to be simple notes and reminders for meetings and the like.“Guess someone got here before we did.” Ly muses, peering over your shoulder. You nod with an unsatisfied look growing on your face--yep, the question is who?“My money’s on Rocky.” Ly states, rubbing his astral chin. “He was probably already here when he broadcasted to da’ Drive-In… Plus who else in da’ building is gonna have all da’ keys an’ codes?”Not a bad theory--it would also explain why his guys look like they’ve been living here. You didn’t get much of a chance to explore the other places like the garage and the gym, but you can bet those places and the rest of the school are SKELLY CENTRAL.Kicking the drawer shut, you freeze as you hear the sound of something rattling around in the desk! You begin the boring, but effective task of opening each drawer in sequence and kicking the desk, eventually isolating the noise to the one second from the bottom!“Secret compartment!” Ly says, giving you a thumbs up with his face stuck through the drawer! With a clean slice of your claws, the drawer splits open revealing a .38 REVOLVER, a BOX OF .38 CARTRIDGES, and some sort of BADGE. Examining the latter further, you realize something about the intricate designs carved into it!“What do you realize?!” Ly asks, leaning in close!You realize that you have no clue what the hell this thing is, but you’d be an idiot not to take it with you. Stuffing the goods into your pocket, you take one last look around the desk, your eyes catching on a file tucked under a Clearwater High Paperweight. Yanking the file out from underneath, your eyes glow as you read the label on the front--HONOR ROLL CANDIDATES!Needless to say that goes straight into your pocket!>CONTD.
>>4669025Satisfied, you lean back in the principal’s chair and tuck your hands behind your head. Not BAD! “Tell me about it--no clue why your fairy godmother couldn’t do it herself…”Yea, you’ll have to ask her when you get back. Which reminds you--you’ve gotta finish this up!Rising to your feet, you can’t help but shiver a bit--was it always this cold? You wrap your arms around your torso as you take one last look around the office, then exit through the double doors.Compared to the Principal’s Office, the Main Office is an ICE BOX. Shutting the doors behind you, you only just realize that the lights you turned on earlier are out. A sense of unease sinking in, you start to feel your teeth clattering together as your breath clouds in front of your face.Did someone crank the thermostat down or something?“Maybe da’ boiler’s out?” Ly suggests.Part of your wants to agree, but something tells you Ly might be off a bit. Call it woman’s intuition.“Seriously?”Well, that and the fact that something in here smells like burning metal.... As the words come out of your mouth, the lights slowly pulse back to life, albeit with a darker, puke yellow tint. Power-walking towards the door to the hall, your vision darts left and right as the burning metallic smell grows more and more pungent!You’re halfway to the hallway when you see it--bulging eyes, gaping mouth, and a dead, fishlike stare. A look you know all too well.Standing a mere three feet away from you is the Clearwater Cod, but something’s wrong with it.Very wrong.“Stan?”Yea, Ly?“What is that?”The tattered mascot suit regards you like a cat watching a laser pointer--its dead gaze tracking every minute movement you make. You stand your ground for a moment waiting for it to speak, but nothing comes. What do?>Ask what the hell it wants>Toss something at it (ITEM)>Run for the hallway>Attack! (WITH WHAT?)
>>4669026>Ask what the hell it wantsM-maybe it's friendly?Also do we still have the Kaiser mop? Just double checking if we've got two mops, we replaced the old one with the Kaiser, or if we lost the Kaiser at some point.
>>4669031Whoops, forgot to update the current inventory with all the stuff we DON'T have anymore. Art is still 'borrowing' the OG TELESCOPING MOP--hopefully he'll give it back eventually. Here's the REAL updated list.Updated ‘LIST OF STUFF YOU HAVE’:>1 SKULL HOODIE>1 Pair of BLACK JEANS>2 SPIKED GOTH BOOTS>1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES>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 (and somewhat damp) CELLPHONE>1 MICROBUCKET (carries around water)>1 TELESCOPING ALUMINUM MOP (LOANED TO ART)>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)>1 CIGAR BUTT (Trophy from King)>1 Automated Bone Shaper (ABS) with low battery.>1 BENETTI HANDGUN that you still haven’t given back to Art. Fully loaded, you hope.>1 TIN of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade>1 SYBIL DOLL (CURRENTLY LOANED TO ART)>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)>1 HANDFUL OF MARBLES>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS>7 BAGS OF CANDY>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)>1 HONOR ROLL LIST
>>4669047Thank you for the updated list!
Sorry folks, feeling more out of it then usual tonight--will keep this going and check in tomorrow around 4PM PST. See you then!
>>4669026>Perform our old mascot routine, lets hope it resonates with something it and it isn't hostile.
Damn it, you don’t have time for this! Whatever this thing is doesn’t exactly seem like the chatty type, though!“Do… Do we try ta’ communicate?” Ly asks, not daring to poke outside in his astral form. If the thing notices him it doesn’t react--both its dead googly fish eyes and the gaping abyss of a mouth follow your every movement--almost as if it’s waiting for something! Staying as still as possible, you make the smallest nod you can muster.Yea, we’ll try. But not in the way Ly’s thinking…Memories come rushing back to you like water rushing through a river--hot, humid nights stuck in a suit that boiled you in your own body heat, claps, tumbles, and spins illuminated by stadium lights and the cheers and jeers that followed, the clash of the away team’s mascot’s latex and foam fists against your face…You remember it all… And you know what you must do.>Roll 1d100 to perform the Clearwater Caper! Don’t forget to include the moves and chants for extra BONE-USES!
Rolled 43 (1d100)>>4669866>Roll 1d100 to perform the Clearwater Caper! Don’t forget to include the moves and chants for extra BONE-USES!Its a slide to the left, and a sliiiiide to the right. Slap ya hands over ya head, and for your signature trick. A front flip smoothly transitioning into The Worm! And now we can front flip with the legs of an Emu!
>>4669866Whoops, I'm a moron--I'll be taking the best of three rolls, so we have room for two more. Sorry about that--been really scatterbrained since yesterday!
Rolled 25 (1d100)>>4669866
Rolled 54 (1d100)>>4669866Dance Stanley, dance!
>>4669876>>4669961>>4670019>Best Roll: 54. Writing!
You get into a cheering position like you have countless times before--leads spread, knees bent, arms relaxed at your side--and the POSTURE! Don’t forget that erect posture!The music isn’t playing tonight, but that’s okay--you can hear it in your head. Bobbing your head to the imaginary beat, you bust out your ultimate technique: The Clearwater Caper!You start with a slide to the left, a confident smile on your face! Then a slide to the right to the beat of the music! You slap your hands over your head, and then you brace for the kicker as the Cod continues to stare wordlessly!Bending your knees, you launch yourself into the air with the legs King so graciously provided you, somersaulting forward as your ascend! Tucking your arms and legs in close, you feel the room flip around you, eventually bringing you back for the final bit!Uncurling mid-air, you brace for the landing into the Cod Flop, a technique that few have mastered. Luckily, you’re one of those few! Hitting the floor, youOOOOOWWW!!Shots of pain shoot up your ribs as they connect with the floor that is, upon closer inspection, a lot harder and flatter than the astroturf on the football field. Your face gets a taste too when it whips forward on impact and smacks against the ground!You lie there for a second and wait for the cod to kill you, groaning in pain from your botched landing. How the hell were you able to do that in the costume?When death doesn’t come, you look up from the floor and scan the room… But the cod is nowhere to be seen!“Maybe ya’ scared it off?” Ly whispers from the snug confines of your body. You rise from the ground wincing--whatever happened, you can’t see it anymore…As you turn to head for the exit, you almost bump into the mascot as it lurks behind you, peering into your soul with its dead fish eyes. Stumbling backwards, you manage to get a glimpse into its mouth, and you’re not exactly thrilled at what you see!Nothingness. An expanse of black empty expanse void of anything save for the overpowering scent of burning metal. You clench your fists as the mascot continues to stare at you like a dog eyeing a bone--clearly it wasn’t impressed by your performance!“Stan…” Ly begins, voice wavering, “We’ve gotta deal with dis’ thing or run. I’ve got a bad feelin’...”That’s so weird, SO DO YOU!What do?! The dance didn’t piss it off, but it didn’t make it leave, either…>Ask what this thing wants! Can it even COMMUNICATE?!>Throw an item at it (ITEM)!>Run for the hallway--you’re done with this thing.>Attack! (With WHAT?)
>>4670139>Ask what this thing wants! Can it even COMMUNICATE?!If it doesn't answer>Run
>>4670151supporting this. This cod seems pretty fishy.
>>4670151>>4670222Talking with a chance of panicked fleeing! Writing!
Locking gazes with the cod, you plot out your route to the door just in case things… Flounder. Part of you wants to believe this thing has some sort of intelligence--otherwise it would be attacking you right now, right?“We’ve gotta do something, Stan…” Ly whines, pushing your patience over the brink! Fine, he wants you to do something? You’ll DO something!You point a finger at the cod, annoyance overpowering your fear and confusion. Just what the hell does he want, anyways? You did an amazing performance--the least it could do is react!The cod slowly shifts its glance down at your pointed finger and observes it for a few quiet seconds. Just when you’re about to give up and head for the door, an unfamiliar sound interrupts you!“yOu… wheezes the fish.You raise an eyebrow, not sure how to react. Come again?“wAaanT yOuU…” Croaks the fish, not taking its eyes off of you. You find yourself unsure of how to react--whatever it is speaks like something that had once heard of English, but never bothered to try until now. One more time?“WaAantT….” Repeats the fish, “YouUuUUUuu….”.To call its voice unsettling wouldn’t be doing it justice--the sounds the fish makes sound less like words being formed and more like mimicry--like something a dog would do in a MeTube vid or something! Before you can ask for clarification, your train of thought is interrupted by the cod slowly reaching out for your arm.“WwaaAaaaAaaAAAnnntttT…. STaAaannn….”What do?>Let it grab you.>RUN FOR THE HILLS!>Pull its hood off--let’s see who the monster REALLY IS!>Kick it in the junk and prepare for a fight.
>>4670321>Let it grab you.Okay I might be crazy but this could be a powerup? Also it feels good to be wanted! (I hope I'm not fucking us over)
>>4670321>Let it grab you.
>>4670327+1Lets play with the fishy, although I am definitely a little nervous about the choice.
>>4670358Best case scenario - power up/new ally!Worst case scenario - we get the FNAF treatment
Watching the nylon hand reach out for your arm, you take a deep breath and stand still.“Stan, what the hell are you doing?!” Ly hisses, not daring to move. You’re trying to communicate, that’s what! Maybe this guy just has trouble communicating--hey, what if he’s like… The ghost of a foreign exchange student or something? Wouldn’t that be wild?“Stan, don’t do this…”You know, the age difference is a little weird, but come on--he hasn’t tried to kill you yet, right? Maybe he’s trying to help! You give the cod a polite smile as you feel its fuzzy hand close around your wrist. Woah, Cod’s got quite a grip, that’s for sure!“Don’t tell me you’re blushing...” Ly moans. Shut the hell up, Ly, you can’t help it when you can’t even remember the last time you went on a successful daStatic. Clawing through your eyes, ears, mouth--EVERYWHERE. Like an army of spiders you feel thousands of scraping appendages rake the inside of your head like they’re turning it into hash browns--part of you wants to scream, but your mouth won’t open--too painful.Through your burning eyes you start to see an outline peering at you from inside the cod’s mouth--an indefinite shape, but a shape nonetheless. Struggling to maintain consciousness, you glance downwards only to witness the color seeping from your clothes and body--sucked like a milkshake into the shape wearing the cod outfit! For every hue that disappears into its maw you feel yourself grow weaker--you've got to break free!Over the nails-on-chalkboard screech of static in your ears, you hear it--the croaking, stunted voice of an entity uncomfortable with your language, perhaps even language itself.“Ww WwA aAA AAaa A aNTt TtTT !!!”>Roll 1d100 to free yourself--best of three rolls wins.
Rolled 2 (1d100)>>4670425Oh...fuckI'm so sorry guys!
Rolled 79 (1d100)>>4670425
Rolled 91 (1d100)>>4670425
>>4670426>>4670427>>4670442>Highest Roll: 91Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Writing!
Gritting your teeth, your determination pushes its way through your static-addled mind to create a thought--a simple thought, but an important one nonetheless:“ESCAPE.”https://youtu.be/Ljt5vNK2CpMBattling through your overworked nervous system, the thought slowly but sure reaches your arms, then your chest, and finally your legs. For a moment your thoughts are clear--the mental hailstorm brought on by the cod’s attack pauses for a moment, but it’s all you need to break free.With a roar that would make King proud, you tuck your legs inwards and kick off of the cod, your feet connecting with whatever thing is currently hiding inside the mascot suit. The two of you tumble away from each other onto the floor of the office, and as you lie there shuddering from the cod’s attack, your thoughts and body slowly become yours again.“Stan!” Ly shouts, flexing your fingers and toes to get your blood pumping, “Are you okay?!”Watching the color return to your body, you grin--almost.Looking forward, you notice the cod has already regained its footing. You sense a new emotion in its stare now--it certainly didn’t expect you to fight back!Stumbling to your feet, you square your stance and crack your neck--you’ll feel just peachy once you’ve mopped the floor with this freaky flounder!The cod keeps its distance, trying to gauge your intentions. The plus side is that this dumbass just gave you the first move! What do?>No sense in drawing this fight out--dice him up with the BONE CLAWS.>You’ve already had a taste of how much this guy hurts--this is a job for THE KAISER.>Hey, has this guy ever seen a FIREARM before? You should demonstrate!>Nah, let’s GET OUT--you have the element of surprise!>WRITE-IN
>>4670488>WRITE-INI'm worried about getting in claw range, but I also don't want to risk losing our mop or wasting bullets.Since it's low battery anyway, I say we go with the ABS! Cut right through that damn suit!
>>4670488eat the cod
>>4670488>You’ve already had a taste of how much this guy hurts--this is a job for THE KAISER.
>>4670488>You’ve already had a taste of how much this guy hurts--this is a job for THE KAISER.We gotta keep our distance here, the kaiser is meant for cleaning up pesky messes like this.
>>4670495>Show it our ABS>>4670498>Take a bite out of the competition!>>4670521>>4670532>Der KaiserWriting the last update of the night!
This freak got the jump on you before, but you know what they say--’An old dog can never be tricked twice.’Ignoring Ly sighing in your ear, you dunk your hand into your pockets and pull out your newest addition to the TELESCOPING MOP family: THE KAISER. Its racing stripes shine in the dim, yellow lights like a janitor’s Excalibur as you flick the EXTEND button, popping the mop out to its full length in your hands. The cod quietly observes your new tool, but if it suspects what you’re about to use it for its face doesn’t show it. Then again, it is a mascot head--not much in the way of emotions.Spinning the mop around in your hands with a flourish, you enter a combat stance and prepare to attack!>Roll 1d100 to clean this fish--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. As usual, descriptions can only help!Last update of the night--will check in again early tomorrow around 9-10AM PST! Thanks for tuning in and hope to catch you tomorrow!
Rolled 88 (1d100)>>4670555>Roll 1d100 to clean this fish--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. As usual, descriptions can only help!Swipe the leg, Bash the head, then we fillet the fish with the ABS
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4670555Supporting >>4670557!
Rolled 32 (1d100)>>4670555
>>4670557>>4670559>>4670563>Highest Roll: 88Writing!
You rush at the cod, mop extended outwards like a spear! Sensing danger, the fish prepares to dodge your strike, watching you like a hawk as you approach.You can’t help but grin--it’s just like your brother used to say during martial arts practice: “Never focus on the eyes--watch the body.” As you draw closer, the mascot springs forward with surprising agility--part of you wants to react, but you double down and continue. You let the thing get a bit closer, then spin your mop around and hook the cod’s leg! Surprised, the mascot tumbles like a sack of onions as you bring your mop out and up, sweeping it from under him! As the fish starts to tumble through the air, you whip around in a pirouette, bringing your mop slamming into the side of the mascot’s head! While the mascot tumbles to the floor clutching its head, you quickly fish the memento you got from King out from your pocket--your trusty ABS (Automated Bone Shaper) and flick the switch!Your tool whirls to life with a roar as you approach your downed opponent. Stabbing at the cod’s head, your weapon just slightly misses its mark as the thing rolls out of the way, giving your ABS a taste of its side instead! Fluff, fabric, and the scent of burning metal wafts into your face, and as you recover you lose track of where the cod ran off to!“BEHIND YA!” Ly shouts, as you feel something approaching from behind!What do you do?>Tuck and roll away!>Stick your ABS behind you--you’re too cool to look!>Headbutt him with the back of your head! Reverse Glasgow Kiss!>Elbow to the chest!>WRITE-IN
>>4670870>Headbutt him with the back of your head! Reverse Glasgow Kiss!People are always saying how empty our head is. Let's show them just how useful it can be!
>>4670875That's using your head! Writing!
A plan forms as you feel whatever it is behind you getting closer--how the hell is this thing able to zip around so fast anyways?!Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you use your head. This thing wants a piece of you? You’ll give it a whole chunk. Straight to the nose, that is!>Roll 1d100 to give the cod a headache--I’ll take the best of three rolls! Beware: this one might be a bit trickier since you can’t see where you’re aiming--Happy Rolling!
Rolled 47 (1d100)>>4670951This...is to go further beyond!
Rolled 53 (1d100)>>4670951
Rolled 92 (1d100)>>4670951
>>4670954>>4670976>>4670980>Highest Roll: 92Can I just pause and say how much it amuses me that while Stan is generally acts like a goofy klutz, your rolls and write-ins turn her into a fucking Combat DEMON?Please keep it up--it makes for good inspiration. Writing!
>>4671000It fits so well. I think there's a trope based on this- Crouching Moron, Hidden Badasshttps://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CrouchingMoronHiddenBadass
As you feel the thing’s arms reach out to grab you, you dip your head downwards towards your chest. Gritting your teeth, you bring your head back with all of your strength--the back connecting with whatever constitutes the entity’s face! This time you get a reaction, too--recoiling from your back, the thing stumbles backwards, eventually coming to a stop when it bumps into Mr. Tseng’s desk! Sending mountains of ungraded papers and even a Newton’s Cradle tumbling to the ground, the entity grips the inside of the mascot’s mouth and howls in pain!“You know what dat’ means, cupcake!” Quips Ly encouragingly! You nod--if you can hurt it, you can probably kick its ass!The cod begins shaking the pain off as you prepare your next attack--better make this count!>Let’s ‘cut’ to the chase--BONE CLAWS!!!>Clean up his act--time for the MOP!>Time for a SHOT cut--let’s use a GUN!>Maybe there’s something lying around you can use?>WRITE-IN
>>4671014>Maybe there’s something lying around you can use?If we can use our insane herculean adrenaline strength, let's pick up the couch and drop it on 'em! Otherwise, if that's not possible>Let’s ‘cut’ to the chase--BONE CLAWS!!!
>>4671014>Let’s ‘cut’ to the chase--BONE CLAWS!!!Stab it right into its stupid face!
>>4671014>Let’s ‘cut’ to the chase--BONE CLAWS!!!
>>4671014>Clean up his act--time for the MOP!WAIT! This thing just gripped the INSIDE of its mouth, lets mop stab it straight down its gullet!
>>4671027>>4671040>>4671105>BONE CLAWS!>>4671113MOP DOWN THE GULLET!We can always compromise, ladies and gentlemen... Writing!
Stuffing your mop and ABS back into your pockets, you extend your BONE CLAWS and rush at the mascot suited-hellspawn! You’ve spent enough time in the suit to know where all of the vital parts are, but the entity’s odd behavior after being hit is what tips you off--you’re going to stuff a claw right down this thing’s mouth hole! Say ‘AAAAH’, asshole!>Roll 1d100 to give this guy something to munch on--I’ll take the best of three rolls!
Rolled 18 (1d100)>>4671133
Rolled 67 (1d100)>>4671133>Roll 1d100 to give this guy something to munch on--I’ll take the best of three rolls!Lets do an improvised tonsillectomy on this fish.Wait do fish have tonsils?
Rolled 77 (1d100)>>4671133BONESAW IS READYYYYY
>>4671155>>4671160>>4671166>Best Roll: 77Writing!
Sensing more pain, the cod quickly recovers from being knocked backwards and in the span of a flicker of the lights above you clears the gap between you and him! A fuzzy hand darts towards your throat, but you duck under it! Surprised by your speed and aggressiveness, all the entity can do is clumsily backpedal as you plunge your claw down the mascot’s throat and into the entity’s body!“StTaAanL--”That’s your name, don’t wear it out! Twisting your claws around for good measure, you feel a wave of pressure explode from inside the suit, knocking you backwards and onto the floor! The scent of burning metal becomes overpowering, and as you plug your nose you watch as the mascot suit begins to shake.“WwwAaAAaAaAnnnnttSTtaaAnnNnlllLLleeEEeeeYYYYYY!!!Howling in pain, the cod grips the sides of its head as streaks of light begin poking through the entity! As more and more streaks shoot through the thing, you feel a force build up with the mascot suit as the epicenter--you clasp your hands over your ears as the pressure continues to build, wincing as you feel them pop!“What’s happening?!” Ly shouts! You’d appreciate an answer yourself! Scrambling for cover behind a desk, you watch as the mascot suit floats upward, writhing in pain as the pressure comes to a head!The crescendo ends with an anguished roar, then an ear-splitting CRACK! Still keeping your ears covered, you watch as the mascot splits open like a fortune cookie releasing a man-sized plume of rust-colored smoke! For a second it almost seems to stare at you, then with a roar it rockets towards the roof, connecting with the ceiling with a flash of dirty red light! At that second every light in the room bursts, showering the office with shards of glass!Ducking below the desk, you stay there for a minute and let the adrenaline wear off. By the time your breath is steadied once more, you no longer see your breath clouding in front of your face. Even better, the cold, tense atmosphere present when you entered the room is gone, replaced by the familiar cool, dull, and oppressive atmosphere of a typical school office.“That uh…” Ly begins, “That was bananas.”>CONTD.
>>4671273Damn it, SORRY. If I had a nickel every time I didn't close those italics correctly..You sit there for a moment, words failing to bail you out like they usually do. Confusion hits you like a truck and questions poke through your brain like the streaks of light through your opponent--what the hell was that? Why did it wear the cod suit? What was it trying to do to you?!As per usual, your feelings default to anger. Who cares?! You just introduced whatever that thing was to the concept of an ALL-AMERICAN-BEATDOWN! USA! USA!Pumping your fist, you rise to your feet and brush the rogue shards of glass off of your hat and outfit. A brief search of where your biggest fan departed reveals nothing, save for a large scorch mark on the floor below it.“I don’t wanna jinx it, cupcake, but that was probably the weirdest thing I’ve seen all day.” Ly remarks, poking an astral finger at the charred floor. You shrug in response--it’s definitely in the running, but it’s got quite a bit of competition, that’s for sure--the melted deer, your astral spying sesh, the macaroni casserole, Sybil in general… On the bright side, you’ve gotten a LOT done today! You haven’t felt this productive in ages!“Yea, well…” Ly begins, appraising you, “It ain’t over yet. Consider whatever ‘dis was an appetizer because da’ main course is right around da’ corner.”You blink. Holy crap, he’s RIGHT! You need to kill Rocky! They better not have called you…Ly shakes his head. “I doubt it--dat’ fight was wild, but I woulda’ heard something over da’ intercom. You’re good.”Part of you wants to ask how Ly is so sure, but you suppress the urge--you’re just too tired. “Well then…” Ly begins, still recovering from what just transpired, “Anything else we oughta check out in here, or are we ready ta’ go?>Hold up--I still want to see the BREAK ROOM!>Let’s GO--the sooner we complete this fairy quest, the better.>I want to check the DESKS! Maybe there’s some neat stuff in there!>WRITE-IN
>>4671275>Let’s GO--the sooner we complete this fairy quest, the better.Lets get this show on the road
>>4671309Turning in our sidequests! Writing!
No, you’ve had enough extradimensional escapades for one day, thanks. You’d rather snag that magic you were promised and deal with Rocky already--how long does it take to set up a freakin’ boxing ring anyways?!You take one last look around the school office and smile--the things that happened here will one day make for a very exciting therapy session. Ducking through the entryway, you’re stopped in your tracks by a shotgun-toting skeleton.“You alright in there, freak? Heard a ruckus.”Ruckus? You were just uh… You pause, trying to get Ly’s attention or input. You don’t get any.Stretches! You were doing some stretches before the big fight! The skeleton mulls your excuse over in his skull, then shrugs.“S’important ta’ limber up…”Nodding, you watch the sentry meander down the hall a bit before investigating. “What exactly are we lookin’ for, anyways?” Ly asks, showing up in the nick of time. You respond with some vague hand gestures and a sigh. Who KNOWS? Last time you hopped into a locker--what’s next, a trash can?“I don’t care if it’s a microwave--da’ sooner we deal wit’ whatever psychosis dis’ is, ‘da better.” Ly remarks, helping you search the corridor. It’s not crazy if it’s true.“Quotin’ your uncle again?” Ly replies, blowing you off. Snarling, you decide to take a break and lean against the wall next to a vending machine--the dull hum of the refrigeration unit giving you a strange sense of peace.“Put it in the vending machine.” Ly sighs, idly floating around you. Wait… What was that?“I said it’s gonna be midnight before we get to dis’ fight.” You shake your head--no, the other thing!“What was it? Oh yea, ‘quotin’ your uncle again.” Ly nods, happy with himself. “Ya see it’s funny because your uncle’s such a whackjob and--”No, shut up for a second--he mentioned something about putting the list in the VENDING MACHINE. “You’ve got quite da’ imagination, kiddo, but fine--go nuts.”Muttering to himself, Ly ignores you as you remove the PRINCIPAL’S HONOR ROLL from your inventory and gingerly push it into the drink slot. Like any good vending machine, the list gets stuck, prompting you to slap it a few times.“Dat’ ain’t gonna help, cupcake.”You don’t CARE, it makes you FEEL BETTER. Winding up for another slap, your therapy is interrupted as a force takes hold of the list in your hand and sucks it, and you, into the machine!>CONTD.
>>4671412https://youtu.be/jt3zmsVAakQA bout of nausea and dizziness later, you open your eyes to find yourself once again in THE GREEN. Stretching your arms and legs, you realize you’re stuffed precariously into your chair from earlier--the one opposite of the GREEN OFFICE CHAIR, DESK, FILING CABINET, and of course your employer, the GREEN FAIRY. Barely sparing you a glance, the fairy holds the PRINCIPAL’S HONOR ROLL in her GREEN-GLOVED hands, scanning it with GREEN SPECTACLES.“Our knight in shining armor returns!” Quips the fairy, not even bothering to spare you a glance. Her GREEN BOOTS propped up on her desk, the woman scans the document with predatory glee--you can almost see drool coming out of her mouth.Straightening your position, you nod--yep, all the goods are there as promised! The fairy gives you a curt ‘mhm’ and resumes scanning the list. Twiddling your fingers, you wait for her to resume the conversation, but nothing comes.That GREEN LIQUOR over on the bar cart’s looking really good right about now…What do? >WAIT a little longer. Patience is a virtue!>Try to get her ATTENTION. You’ve got places to be!>Pour yourself a DRINK.>WRITE-IN
>>4671413>Try to get her ATTENTION. You’ve got places to be!"I hate to bother you, but I do have a fight to get to soon"
>>4671413>WAIT a little longer. Patience is a virtue!
>>4671418ExCUSE me>>4671523>>4671531Just a little longer...Writing!