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File: 5image.png (176 KB, 639x482)
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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 your best pal Sybil--occult podcaster and resident magical goth chick. Though she’s currently hiding away in a pocket dimension she found, she still hangs out via the creepy doll in your pocket. Friends like these, right?

There’s also The Trio--a group of skeleton greasers who joined you after losing a bet, but… Well, that’s kinda the issue at the moment. Following up on a lead to track down Rocky, the leader of the skeleton greasers and a lieutenant of the above-mentioned lich, your search led you from the local skeleton-infested Drive-In to your old High School.

Returning to your alma mater, you ended up tangling with a beastly macaroni casserole, a demon disguised as your school mascot, a predatory fairy, and, most importantly, Rocky himself. Just when things were going your way, however, fate decided to dump a bucket of chum on your parade once more--Your skeleton companions betrayed you and now hold you and your pals at gunpoint!

In short, High School still sucks. Your story resumes with the bitter scent of sweat, ash, and gunpowder…

>CONTD.
>>
>>4679562
Welcome to BONES QUEST--take your shoes off and stay a while! Make sure to check out the following resources:
Catch up on previous threads!
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Bones%20quest
Twitter account for updates!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3
Imgur Page for quest and fan art!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

STAT 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!
>Off The Lysh--There’s a skeleton on the loose--yours! Ly is no longer tethered to your body in his astral form and can scout a few feet away through walls and other obstacles.


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 (She communicates through it)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 6 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)

Rolls 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.
>>
>>4679563
“Sorry to interrupt, Stan, but you’ve done enough.”

You blink just in time to miss the flash of the gunshot.

When you open your eyes again, you find yourself not as dead as you expected. In fact, you don’t feel too bad at all! Staring down at your hands, you wave them around in front of you a few times--what if you were dead? How would you know?!

“Hey pal,” Croaks Rocky’s skull cradled in Gene’s open skeletal palm, “You might wanna try aiming… I dunno… HIGHER?!

A fresh bullet hole sits nestled between your toes, the boxing ring canvas singed around the edges. Glancing up at your ex-pal Gene, all you can do is sputter! What the HELL?!

“Can it, Stan.” Gene hisses, still aiming his revolver at you. “Me and da’ boss gotta talk first.”

Rocky chuckles as Gene looks him in the eyes. “See dis’? ‘Dis is leadership, right here. One second they would die for ya, the next they’re talkin’ terms… Christ…”

Adopting a more serious look, Rocky glares at Gene. “The HELL are you doin’?” He hisses, glancing between you and the skeleton holding him, “We agreed when you and your pals told me about her--negotiations AFTER she’s dead!”

Gene searches Rocky's face with his pitch-black eye sockets.

“You don’t even recognize me, do you?”

Rocky’s skull freezes for a second, then cycles through embarrassment, confusion, and finally utter disbelief.

“No… " He begins, chuckling uneasily, "You’re screwin’ with me, pal…”

Sensing the focus drifting away from you, you quietly back away from the two skeletons as Gene’s gun slowly shifts targets.

Whatever happens, happens.” Gene recites, now pointing the revolver’s muzzle at Rocky’s forehead. “Let’s just have some fun.

“T-that’s…” Rocky sputters, his eye sockets widening in fear.

“The last thing you said to me before the race.” Gene growls. “Before I went over that cliff.”

“Ho-ly CRAP.” Ly whispers, peering over your shoulder in astral form. “What do we DO?”
>Stay silent--they clearly have some catching up to do.
>Butt in--what the HELL is going on here?
>Check on Art--gotta make sure your pals are safe!
>Leave the ring--no sense in sticking around for this.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4679595
>Stay silent--they clearly have some catching up to do.
This is a tough choice. I wanna make sure Art and them are safe, but also I've *gotta* see how this ends. Gene was Cliff the whole time?! That's HUGE- and also why would he hide it from his friends?

Also yay thread 5!
>>
>>4679599
Writing!
>>
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You’re not exactly a Gang Leader Counseling expert, so you decide to take advantage of the fact that no one’s shot anyone yet and step back a little bit, using your MICRO-BUCKET as an impromptu stool.

“Wish we had some popcorn--dis’ is JUICY!” Ly whispers in your ear excitedly. SHHH!

https://youtu.be/ogKTocIFRnY

“You really are him, ain’t ya?” Rocky mutters, his composure now completely washed away.

“Back from the dead.” Replies Ge--err, Cliff? “No thanks to you.”

“How the hell was I supposed ta’ know you’d be back!?” Shouts Rocky, “They never found your body, Cliff, you know I wouldn’t have given up on y--”

“I woke up under a pile of rocks, beer cans, and a COOLER, Rock!” Gene shouts, pressing his revolver against Rocky’s forehead! “I WALKED TO SHORE!”

Your opponent sits quietly in Cliff’s hands, speechless.

“I barely shook the barnacles off before Gene Ponti came outta’ nowhere with a heater!” Cliff continues, jiggling the revolver in his hand. “I watched that kid grow outta diapers, Rock! You know what he told me? The first thing he said?”

Cliff gives Rocky a moment to respond, but he doesn’t get a reply. Flexing his jaw, Cliff continues.

“He told me the game had changed. I didn’t want to believe it, Rock, but here I am wearing the clothes of the kid I killed, pointing a gun at my best friend. So tell me--HAS it changed?”

The skull in Cliff’s hands doesn’t respond. Cliff takes a breath, recovering some of his composure.

“You were my best friend, Rock.”

“I… I didn’t know what to do, Cliff, I--”

“I HEARD!” Cliff snaps, anger once again burning in his voice, “I heard it ALL, Rock. And you know what else?!”

Before the skull can answer, Cliff lowers his gun.

“I think you’re right.” Cliff mutters under his breath. “I shoulda’ been more open-minded. I took a wrong turn somewhere back then… But so did you.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4679772
The two skeletons stare each other down, letting the words seep in.

“And now? Now we’re just two dead relics dancing on someone else’s strings.” Cliff continues, letting his gun hang from his hand. “It’s over, Rock. You know how this has to go.”

Rocky begins to say something, but pauses. “Cliff, I’m… I’m sorry, man.”

“I am too.” Cliff replies. “You know what the dumbest thing is? Despite it all, I can’t bring myself to shoot you.”

“Neither can I...” Rocky mutters. “But THEY CAN!”

Rolling off of the side of Cliff’s hand, Rocky cackles! “Offer still stands, boys! First one ta’ waste Cliffy boy and da’ girl-raccoon FREAK gets da’ whole POT!”

The skull continues to laugh all the way to the end of the ring, but pauses when it realizes no one’s getting up.

“Hey,” Rocky orders, his voice wavering, “I said ‘kill-em’!” Scanning the crowd you notice a whole lot of talking, but not one greaser readying an attack! As the realization settles in, Rocky’s skull begins to shudder!

Cliff glances in your direction, placing a fresh cigarette between his teeth. “Got a light?”

Rising from your bucket, you whip out your lighter and light the cigarette. Taking a long drag, the skeleton looks at you with tired eye sockets.

“Stan…I think it’s time.”

>No rolls--how do you finish off Rocky?
>>
>>4679778
"Pop goes the weasel"
>Stomp on his skull

Also
>Try not to cry thinking about your beloved gang members almost betraying you
>>
>>4679805
+1
>>
Also sidenote unrelated to the current choice, but I think right now our two best bets at learning about this CHOSEN ONE stuff are

1. G.B.D.B. Sure they want to kill us, but they're also clearly the most informed- especially considering everyone was evacuated except for them and they were handling this

2. Human scientist girl. Because she's human, that means old Tibby probably couldn't put his soul in her and control her the same way he can the lieutenants, meaning she can speak freely
>>
>>4679805
>>4679819
Writing!
>>
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With a polite nod to Cliff, you crack your neck and approach Rocky’s skull on the edge of the ring.

“Hey… Hey, hold on now!” Rocky whines, “You’re going after the wrong guy! I can give you more info! I… I can set up a meeting with the boss! I can HELP YO-”

Rocky’s bargaining is interrupted by you placing your boot on top of his skull. Leaning in close, you whisper one last quip where his ears used to be: Pop goes the weasel.

With that, you press down with your foot--hard. With all of the damage from the magic, electricity, and your other attacks, Rocky’s skull crumbles unceremoniously like an overcooked fortune cookie. You look up and scan the crowd for a reaction, but find nothing. The faces you can see through the dim crowd lights seem… Confused.

Lost.

“Guess uh…” Ly begins, “That’s that, then.”

You nod--guess so. Wiping the skull fragments onto the canvas below you, you turn around to find Cliff, still smoking his cigarette.

“...Thanks, Stan.”

A frown forms on your face--he couldn’t have filled you in on his little plan? Two minutes ago you were sure it was GAME OVER!

Cliff stands like a statue, clumps of ash slowly tumbling from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Sorry about that.”

You feel a mixture of emotions well up inside of your head, but you can’t decide which one to stick with! You settle with a sigh, a slow shake of your head, and finally finish off with a light pat on Cliff’s shoulder.

You uh…

“I know, boss.” Cliff answers, still staring off into space. “You’d better grab that marrow before… Well, you know.”

“He’s right, Stan.” Ly adds, mirroring you and placing a spectral hand on your shoulder.

“I get da’ feeling dat’ no one in here’s in da’ mood ta’ chat.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4679968
You approach the remains of Rocky’s body--his bones easy to see with the bright blue puffs of flame slowly devouring them. As you walk over, you notice handfuls of crowd members leaving the auditorium in droves while others stick around.

Rocky’s ‘improvements’ peel away like skin off of fried chicken, revealing a wealth of glowing bones. Glancing back at Cliff, you find him stomping the remains of his cigarette out on the canvas, then returning your gaze.

With a curt nod, he whistles towards where Art was in the crowd, then leans against one of the far turnbuckles.

Looking in the direction he whistled, you feel the weight on your body lighten a bit as Wyatt and Stripes make their way towards the stage, Art and Sybil escorted between them like they were VIPs. A handful of other greasers follow suit, talking amongst themselves as they approach Cliff.

“You good, Stan?” Ly asks, leaning into your view. You nod--just a lot to take in, is all. Nodding, Ly gestures towards Rocky’s body.

“Speaking of ‘taking in’...”

You take a deep breath and nod--yea, time to reap the rewards of this crazy day! The question is, what should you grab?

“Just remember last time.” Ly warns, “I can only handle ONE.”

Okay, you aren’t that forgetful! JEEZ. Let’s see what we’ve got here…
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!
>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!

Gotta build that gang up!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: MOXIOUS MANDIBLE: Alterations to your jaw make you more persuasive and charming! Don’t ask how it works--beauty is beauty, dammit!
God damnit I want the ribs because I know we are stupid and are gonna get our shit kicked in for real. But damn do I want to diplomance some more stupid shit into being.
>>
>>4680042
Yeah basically my line of thinking too lol
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!
Diplomancers begone. Mop gang unite.
>>
BONE-USES don't come very often, so I'm going to keep this decision open until the usual update time tomorrow: 3-4PST. Remember, you can only pick one, so choose wisely! Hope to see you all then!
>>
>>4679971
>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
My logic is, combat BONE-uses help us obtain more BONE-uses.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4679971
>>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
>>BONE-US: PISTON PUNCHERS: Your punches pull YOU. Alterations to the bones in your arms give you more OOMPH when using melee weapons OR your bare fists! Less pain, more damage!

1 = ribs
2 = punchers
>>
>>4679971
>>BONE-US: ROCKABILLY RIBS: Your ribs and the rest of your skeleton are built to last--you can take hits and damage that would prove fatal to a normal meatbag!
Popping out a new, stronger jawline is pretty horrifying and besides the other lieutenants are a lot less likeable than the greasers
>>
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"You don't even recognize me, do you?"

Had this in my head at work today and had to draw it
>>
I'll close the voting window at 3PM PST--get your friggin' votes in or don't come crying to ME!

Here's the unofficial BONES QUEST theme while you wait:
https://youtu.be/_wiwdlu-Zg0

>>4680960
"Alas, poor Rocky. I knew him, Horatio..."
Love it, man! Always curious to see how people visualize the scenes!
>>
>>4679977
>>4680042
>Mandible!

>>4680091
>PISTONS

>>4680197
>>4680238
>>4680534
>RIBS

Oh shit, what an upset! Start calling Stan 'Chili's', because we've got ribs! Writing!
>>
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As you sift through the bludgeoned and beaten body of the boss, something draws you towards Rocky’s rib cage. Dutifully opening his coat and carving through the white T-Shirt underneath, your efforts are rewarded with a set of pristine ribs glowing with ghostly blue light!

“Hard ta’ believe we’ve taken down two of ‘em in the last day or so…” Ly muses, looking over your shoulder. Hey, yea, at this rate you’ll have this town cleaned up in no time, huh?

“Assuming our luck holds out.” Ly adds. “You ready for ‘dis, cupcake?”

Oh yea--you’ve been itching for some new toys! Cutting two handfuls of ribs free from the rib cage, you peer inside each one to find them all glowing with MAGIC MARROW!

Ignoring the confused and somewhat grossed-out faces of the skeletons still loitering in the gym, you take your time to quaff the contents of each rib. Dropping the last one on the floor of the ring, you finish your feast by cutting the sternum free from the remains of the cage and gulp its contents down too!

The grim feast completed, you decide to take a seat and wait--you remember the last time you tried eating this crap…

“That’s because you tried to eat marrow from two completely different bones, Sta--”

As Ly begins to add another tally to his Lecture Quota, you start to feel a dull ache in your core. Steadying yourself, you instinctually grit your teeth as the ache grows to a sharp, almost electrical pain that slowly begins to radiate out towards the rest of your body!

“Not… AGAIN…” Ly groans, his astral form fading away! As the pain spreads, your discomfort is noticed by several skeletons, including Cliff and your pals! Crap--you can’t let them see you like this or they’ll think you’re a WUSS! Art will never let you live it down--quick, pull it together!

>Roll 1d100 to suck it up, buttercup! I’ll take the best of three rolls! Don’t forget to include any actions you take to prove to your pals and audience that everything’s peachy!
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>4681163
"AhahAHAHAHA, THAT WAS A GOOD JOKE, LY!"

Play it off like we're laughing so hard it hurts
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>4681163
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>4681163
>>4681169
+1 to this
>>
>>4681169
>>4681220
>>4681230
>Highest roll: 64
Cutting it close there! Writing!
>>
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The pain failing to die down, you decide to employ desperate measures! Ignoring a feeling akin to being dipped into a grease fryer, you open your mouth and laugh as hard as you can!

That was a good joke Ly! you’re such a CARD!

Forcing each word out is a task unto itself, and though your bones feel like they’re mining through your flesh and nerves, you manage to avoid crying! Atta’ girl! A group of skeletons pass you on the way out of the gym, disgust on their faces.

“Can you believe dat’ chick? Laughin’ after alla’ dat?”

“Totally ruinin’ da’ pathos of da’ situation… Let’s go, boys.”

Ignoring your critics, you take a moment to catch your breath as the pain across your skeleton gradually fades away. In its place is… Well…

You feel good. DAMN good.

Rising to your feet, you feel a new strength pulsing through your bones--almost a sense of invincibility! Art, come hit me with a chair!

Your erstwhile companions stare at you from across the ring, not sure what to make of you (a look you’re rapidly getting used to). Finishing up a conversation with some unfamiliar greasers, Cliff turns to you and waves you over.

“Hot DAMN!” Ly roars with the energy of a post-snort stockbroker. “That…. That felt even better than the last one, didn’t it?!”

You nod enthusiastically as you cross the ring toward your friends. He can say THAT again! You haven’t felt this good since… Well, ever!

Strutting energetically over to your pals, the gravity of the situation hits you again and a bit of your pep wears off.

“There she is, the star of the show.” Cliff remarks, giving you a slight grin. “Sorry for da’ scare, kid.” He, Wyatt, and Stripes idle around the turnbuckle, visible confusion cemented on the latter’s face.

You’re the one who should be apologizing--you just ate his best friend’s RIBS. Is uh… Is he gonna be okay?

Cliff responds with a shrug. “Emotionally? Yea. Him turnin’ on us even in da’ end soured the deal a bit. Also you learn not to dwell on things too long after you’ve died--I’ll get over it.”

“And your… friends?” Sybil adds, the doll peeking into the huddle from Art’s shoulder. “What do you intend to do next?”

“That’s, uh…” Cliff replies, glancing at the ceiling, “That’s a problem that’ll take more than a night ta’ iron out…”

“You still need me to hit you with a chair, Stan?” Art asks, a twinkle in his eye.

Looks like the gang’s all here for the first time in a while--what do?
>Wyatt, Stripes, what do YOU think of all this?
>What’s the plan for now, Cliff?
>Are you two okay, Art and Sybil?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4681315
>Wyatt, Stripes, what do YOU think of all this?
>Are you two okay, Art and Sybil?

Let's get a feel for the crowd, and try to console everyone or make things work to the best of our gremlin abilities.
>>
>>4681320
>>4681315
+1
>>
>>4681320
>>4681352
Check in with Wyatt and Stripes, then the meatbags, gotcha. WRITING!
>>
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That’s Cliff’s feelings on the situation settled, but what about his pals? Wyatt stands at Cliff’s side, stoic as always, while Stripes looks like someone just told him that Santa isn’t real or something crazy like that!

“Good fightin’, Stan.” Wyatt grunts, looking down at you with the biggest smile he can muster, which isn’t very big. You grin back, but can’t help but feel a little odd doing it--are they uh… Are they cool with the big reveal? Wyatt shrugs.

“Guessed it when we were drivin’ to da’ Drive-In.”

Of course he did. Shaking your head, you turn to Stripes--clearly he wasn’t in on it, right?

“I uh…” Stripes mutters, at a loss for words for the first time in his unlife, “I guess I’m… Whaddaya call it? Conflicted?

Constricted, you correct.

“No, he was right the first time.” Sybil counters in her teacher's voice.

“Conflicted, dat’s it.” Stripes nods. “I mean, I was always a fan of Cliff--” He explains, awkwardly glancing at the man himself standing next to him. “But I never really knew him ‘dat well. Was never dat’ high up on da’ totem pole, ya know?”

Sure--you’ve never met your boss either. It’s all a plot by The Man to keep the blinders on the horse, A.K.A the working man!

A panorama of looks from your friends prompts you to explain further--that’s what your uncle always says, at least!

“Anyways…” Stripes continues, shrugging off your excuse, “I’m happy. Rocky got what he deserved and if anyone can put us all back together it’s dis’ lug right here.” Stripes chuckles, grabbing Cliff’s shoulder and playfully shaking it.

What about the real Gene, though? Stripes’ expression darkens a bit.

“I’m… Ya know… I’m sad to hear he’s gone. When we first popped outta da’ dirt he an’ Wyatt were da’ first guys I tried ta’ track down.” Cliff offers Stripes a cigarette, which he graciously accepts and lights.

“Rocky changed him, though,” Stripes continues, “Made him meaner. Like a dog ya’ train to fight or somethin’--it just learns it gets treats as long as it hurts somethin’.”

Still doesn’t explain why he just up and attacked Cliff though, does it? The Trio shrug simultaneously.

“It was chaos in da’ beginnin’.” Wyatt states, staring off in the distance. “Was a free-for-all for a while before Rocky rounded us up.”

“Gene’s sadistic streak probably didn’t help.” Stripes adds. “So while I’m glad he didn’t kill Cliffy here, I’d be lyin’ if I said I ain’t gonna miss da’ guy...”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4681440
Speaking of sadistic, they couldn’t have given you or Syb a heads-up or anything?! You almost cried back there!

“Really?” Art asks, his interest piqued.

No! You meant like… Cried in RAGE--DUH!

“If it makes ya feel any better, we warned Artie and Syb here before we took out da’ heaters!” Stripes grins. “We got through ta’ Rocky da’ minute we made it here--fed ‘em all sorts of bullshit about ya. Plan went off without a hitch!”

Hey, that’s great! Must have been awkward talking to Rocky then, huh Cliff? The skeleton in the jean jacket shrugs, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Didn’t talk to him--that was all these two idiots’ doing.” He explains, pointing his cigarette at Wyatt and Stripes.

“Felt starstruck.” Wyatt grunts. “Never got ta’ talk ta’ Rocky much.”

Yea, must have been a wild conversation you two had, you joke, elbowing Wyatt.

“Eh. He shared somma’ dat ‘school records’ stuff about you too.”

You almost have to shove your eyes back into their sockets! Say WHAT!?!

“Jokin’.” Wyatt grunts. “Or am I?” He adds, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Damn it!

“We’ve decided to help dis’ hopeless sonnovabitch here get everything workin’ again.” Stripes continues, cocking his head towards Cliff. “He’s already got a few guys spreadin’ da’ word of new ownership--hopefully things’ll change without a hitch.”

And if they don’t?

“Then we’ll respond accordingly.” Cliff answers, cracking his neck menacingly. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re done roundin’ up humans.”

“The lich won’t take that on the nose.” Sybil remarks. “What if he decides to de-animate you all?”

Cliff shrugs, taking another drag from the cigarette. “We’ll just keep doin’ what we’re doin--actin’ busy. If he comes around for a checkup, well…” Cliff stares upwards, contemplating quietly. “We’ll just say we’re pickin’ up where Rocky left off.”

You can’t help but frown--what would Tim do? Nothing good, that’s for sure.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cliff interjects, putting your thoughts momentarily at ease. “You’ve got enough stuff on your shoulders.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4681443
Well that’s a relief--you were a little worried when you didn’t run into them before the fight!

“You were the ones we were worried about!” Stripes chuckles, “When we heard about dat’ convoy gettin’ torn up, well…”

Good Boy bit off more than it could chew.” Sybil remarks, looking at you with pride in her doll eyes. “Stan’s been rather busy since we left the Drive-In. Our hero.”

You feel the temperature rise in your cheeks. Psssh, stop it, oh my god

With a hasty clearing of your throat, you regain authority and turn to your fleshy pals. A-ANYWAYS, how are THEY doing?

“Can’t complain.” Art replies, rubbing his mask lenses with his glove. “Not the first time I’ve been held hostage.”

Shut up, idiot. Sybil, how are you?

“I’m just upset that I couldn’t help more.” Sybil replies, a glum look on her doll face. “Cliff and the others formed an excellent plan, however.”

“All dat’ milk didn’t hurt our confidence either!” Stripes adds, slapping his hand on his nonexistent bicep. “Which reminds me, Cliff, we gotta figure out what ta’ do wit’ da’ rest…”

“Yea, yea…” Cliff drones, waving Stripes’ concerns away. “We’ll talk more once these kids are settled.”

You raise an eyebrow. What does he mean?

“Well for starters, we owe you.” Cliff explains, finishing his cigarette. “We’re in no condition ta’ start pickin’ fights wit’ the other boneheads, but in the short-term we can at least give ya’ a good night’s rest. No one here is gonna touch ya, you've got my word.”

You feel your eyes getting heavy as he finishes his sentence. Come to think of it you DO feel pretty beat even WITH the marrow…

“We haven’t slept since da’ tree dis’ mornin’, cupcake,” Ly reminds you, “Not exactly a Five-Star accommodation!”

“I wouldn’t mind some downtime either…” Art adds, stretching his back.

“I agree.” Sybil adds. “If I have some time to regain my strength I’ll be much more effective. We can also decide on our next move.”

“That’s settled,” Cliff concludes, “You can either rest at school tonight or Wyatt can drop ya’ off somewhere.”

“Be a pleasure.” Wyatt grunts. Your human entourage looks at you expectantly--guess it’s up to you!

>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
>Thanks, but we should hit the road--we can rest later.
>Wyatt, can you drop us off at (WRITE-IN)?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4681446
>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
>>
>>4681446
>Wyatt, can you drop us off at (WRITE-IN)?

There we can
>Put our phone in rice and maybe charge it- having a way to talk to Sybil and Art from afar as well as check the internet will be huge
>Look for things we might have around the house that would be a big help

Also we should probably tell Sybil that stuff about the southern wards our fairy friend mentioned
>>
>>4681471
Just realized I forgot the write in part

>Drop us off at our apartment
>>
Gonna let this vote go a while longer--kind of a big decision for a tiebreaker!
>>
>>4681446
>Sleepover at school? COUNT US IN!
There's definitely a Good Boy ambush at our apartment.
>>
>>4681471
+1
Though do you mean sybils apartment? And also we should remind sybil to strengthen that ward that faerie mentioned. But Yeah I agree fixing our phone and scrounging Sybils junk nest is a good idea.
>>
>>4681667
I meant ours since we haven't visited it since the start. It came to mind since one of our items is 'KEYRING with WORK and APARTMENT KEYS'

That being said though, as much as I wanna see Stan's place and get all that fixed, >>4681636 makes a really good point.

I'll change my vote to staying at school, but I still think we should relay that thing about the wards to Sybil
>>
Looks like we've just about got a consensus here--thanks for going the extra distance and being patient! Work's a bit busier this morning than I expected, so I'll whip up a fresh batch of updates around 3-4PM PST. TGIF!
>>
>>4681454
>>4681870
>>4681636
>School Sleepover!!!

>>4681667
>Syb's apartment

Writing!
>>
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You’ll be honest--you’re starting to miss sleeping in your own bed at your own safe and familiar apartment. So much, in fact, that part of you wants to tell Wyatt to take you there right now so that you can curl up with a game of RAZE and something alcoholic. Sybil could clean your room like she always does while Art… Hm.

Art could stay outside! There you go!

The more you consider the plan, however, the worse it sounds--for starters, you’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do--it’s been a while since you had pals over and you don’t want to give Sybil or Art another reason to give you shit, especially if they see what’s on your computer! No, that won’t do at all...

There’s also the unsettling possibility that your enemies know where you live and are waiting for you to return home... Now that you think about it, that’s probably the biggest reason right there.

That said, it’s been ages since you’ve passed out at school! You’ve been wanting to do this legally for ages! Also if what Cliff says is true, this is probably the safest place in Clearwater for you right now, so…

You answer Cliff with an enthusiastic nod--break out the sleeping bags and marshmallows, we’re spendin’ the night!! The greaser can’t help but smirk at your enthusiasm, then nods.

“Solid. There are a few beds in the nurse’s office--those are probably your best bet for some proper shuteye. Pretty sure there are emergency blankets and other crap in storage if you feel like catchin’ some ‘Z’s somewhere else.”

“Just gimme a holler when yer’ ready,” Wyatt adds, “An’ I’ll keep watch outside in case anybody tries anything.”

“How uh,” Art begins, “How plausible do you think that is?”

Cliff responds with a shrug. “Like I said before--word’s spreading dat’ I’m in charge now and not ta’ harm you. Can’t guarantee some dumbass won’t try something, but I know a lotta’ these guys--if I say watch out for Stan, they’ll watch out for ya.”

>CONTD.
>>
>>4682533
“This oughta’ give ya’ piece of mind.” Stripes remarks, handing you a small walkie-talkie. “Long-range. Some of Rocky’s guys were usin’ em ta’ communicate--as long as you stick wit’ channel 9 you can give us a holler any time!”

Stuffing the RADIO into your pockets, you give a quick ‘thanks’ to The Trio, then turn to Art. What’s his plan?

“I might stay up a little longer.” He replies, looking around the gym. “Didn’t really get a tour of the place.”

“I might investigate the library, myself.” Sybil reports, floating away from Art’s shoulder. “Maybe I can learn a bit more about that ‘Chosen One’ business.”

Totally. Oh, and maybe she can take a look at her Southern Wards while she’s at it. Sybil stares at you like you just dropped a dog carcass on her dining table.

“E-excuse me?”

No big deal, that fairy you were talking about earlier mentioned checking up on them. Before you can finish your sentence, Sybil’s doll tumbles to the floor, lifeless.

“Fairy?” Stripes asks. Long story!

A few seconds later, the doll roars to life again, its face looking pretty haggard for a doll.

“... Change of plans. I’m going to do some more research on the Fae.”

Ha ha, what a dweeb! Giving Sybil an affectionate pat on the head, you turn around and survey the gym for yourself.

“Whaddaya think, cupcake?” Ly asks, “You wanna do some stuff before bedtime?”

Besides the options your pals brought up, you also formulate a few activities of your own: the SHOWERS in the dressing rooms probably work if you wanted to freshen up after today’s trials.

There’s also that quiet spot on the ROOF you could head up to if you wanted to chill for a bit--who knows, maybe someone could join you!

Of course there’s also plenty of EXPLORING to do as well--you haven’t been here in ages and it would be neat to check out some of the classrooms without getting yelled at for once!

What’s FIRST on your agenda?
>Absolutely NOTHING. BEDTIME.
>Show ART SOME OF THE SCHOOL(WRITE-IN CLASS)
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>ROOF TRIP!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682535
>ROOF TRIP!

Let's get introspective before bed!
>>
>>4682535
>ROOF TRIP!
>>
>>4682549
>>4682592
To the roof!

Writing!
>>
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Pfft, you’ll sleep when you’re dead. You’re goin’ for a trip to the roof!

“You’re going to trip off the roof?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

No, you’re going to take a trip TO the roof! Jeez…

“To be fair it DID happen before!” Sybil adds helpfully, “Watch your step around the edge, please, Stan.”

Yes mother. Man, you’ve been acting competent the whole day--they can’t trust you to hang out on the roof for a bit?

“You are kinda accident-prone.” Art counters. “What’s so cool about the roof anyways?”

Well for one, it’s a roof. Way up high, nice view of the sky and the town? You used to head up there a lot and drink after football games.

Art and the rest nod sagely.

“Ahh, so that’s how you tripped.”

No! You were sober for that! Whatever, you dorks wouldn’t get it!

“Just holler in the radio if you need us, kid.” Stripes reminds you. “Watch out for UFOs!”

Man, don’t even joke about that…
--------------------------------------------------------------
You know the path to the roof like the back of your hand, so finding your way isn’t exactly difficult.

“Da’ maintenance workers used it ta’ clean da’ leaves an’ balls offa’ da roof.” Ly reminds you, floating at your side. Yea, that was it! You remember being so stoked the minute you found out about it--it was like your own private pocket like Sybil has, especially after dark!

“Not always.” Ly chuckles, “Remember dat’ one time dose’ seniors came up after da’ game? Awkward!”

Oh shit, how could you forget? And they gave you crap for ‘peeping on them’! Hope tonight’s a little less crowded!

You pass by the stairwell and make for the unmarked door near the gym--the stairwell led to the shitty part of the roof, the one where all of the normal losers hung out. The school put a better lock on once they caught wind of it being used for fun, so why even bother? The pros went the other way--much more private!

Your door opens without a hitch--a curtain of dust falls as light peers into the room for the first time in who knows how long, but you’re relieved to see your old pal The Ladder still ascending to the ceiling above!

Closing the door behind you, you approach the bottom rungs of the ladder and wipe a bit of dust off before beginning your ascent--you don’t want to survive all of this and then die because you slipped!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4682674
You feel the chilly air long before you manage to lever the heavy trapdoor open at the top of the ladder. Suppressing a shiver, you creep off of the ladder and out onto the roof, carefully closing the door behind you.

https://youtu.be/G3LDWN9gzpQ

You feel the wind tug at your body like it was telling you to hurry along. With a good-natured chuckle you take your time traversing the flat, tar-paved roof, letting the cold night air tickle your face.

Looking outwards at the town, you’re surprised to find that most of the fires have gone out. In their place are rows of dark silhouettes against the ashen night sky--buildings with no lights on. Craning your head towards the distance, all you can hear is the periodic blow of the evening breeze--no gunshots, no cars, not even the shouting of the greasers in the school below.

You take a seat against a section of air ducts near the edge, stretching your back as your senses relish their chance to rest for once. For the first time in hours you finally get a chance to relax--just the roof, the breeze, You, and...

> Ly, but he’ll be quiet if you ask nicely!
>Sybil. Wait, did she FLOAT all the way up?!
>Art. How did he find this place?
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!
>Someone or something else entirely (WRITE-IN)!
>>
>>4682677
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!

Did not handle my alcohol well tonight, apologies for delay in reading and responding
>>
>>4682677
>One of the Trio--you thought they were busy!
>>
>>4682761
>>4682788
One of the trio, but WHO!? Writing!
>>
As you relax and take in the view, you can’t help but get the feeling that you aren’t alone--that the roof isn’t as empty as you thought.

Scanning the area for the source of the disturbance, you almost recoil when you see a familiar jean-jacketed skeleton sitting on the edge of the roof a few feet away! Taking in the view of lightless Clearwater with the usual cigarette hanging limply from his fingers, you can’t help but wonder whether he came up here before you, after, or around the same time.

It then hits you how little you know about Cliff--not even an hour ago he was Gene, and not even an hour ago you thought he was about to betray you! What’s his DEAL anyways?!

As if sensing your thoughts, the skeleton takes a break from the view to glance straight at you! DAMN HE’S GOOD!

“You good, Stan?”

You stick your hands into your pockets for warmth and stare down at him. Is he? What’s he doing up here anyways?

With his trademark shrug, Cliff rises to his feet and climbs your way, pompadour blowing in the evening breeze. Seconds later he parks himself next to you and stares you down.

“You said you were headed for the roof--Thought I’d steal your idea.”

He glances at an empty spot next to you.

“Can I sit?”

You nod, prompting him to take a seat next to you. For a few moments neither of you say anything--instead focusing on the rare view in front of you.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?”

You take a moment to think about it before you respond--yea, it kinda is. Cliff grunts in assent, taking a drag from his cigarette.

And that’s it. You wait for more exposition--more talk, but the guy says nothing. Is this a good time to ask him questions, or should you just enjoy the moment? Damn it, you came up here to get away from this stuff!

>Just enjoy the silence--he can break it if he wants to.
>Don’t you have some leading to do?
>How’d you find this place?
>What do you think about all of this?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682839
>WRITE-IN
"I'm really glad you didn't betray me. No matter what you do after tonight, you, Wyatt, and Stripes are my friends as far as I'm concerned. If there's uh, anything I can do, just let me know. You know, as your former gang leader and all'
>>
>>4682851
Writing!
>>
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As you let the cold air wash over you, a thought grows inside your head--tonight could have been it. If not you, then maybe Art…

Or even one of The Trio.

You glance at Cliff again and study his bony face--it’s a lot harder reading people when they don’t have skin or muscles, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s because of what happened today, or maybe your rooftop hideout is making you sentimental, but whatever the reason you feel compelled to break the silence.

‘I’m really glad you didn’t betray me, Cliff.’

Like a magic spell, Cliff’s trance breaks as the words leave your mouth. The greaser watches you with interest, waiting for you to continue.

‘No matter what you do after tonight, you, Wyatt, and Stripes are my friends as far as I’m concerned.’

For a second you almost feel a change in Cliff’s eye sockets as they observe you through clouds of cigarette smoke.

“Likewise, Stan.”

The two of you nod to each other, but no other words come out. As Cliff begins to survey the distance again, you continue.

‘If there’s uh… Anything I can do, just let me know.’

That gets his attention. The greaser abandons the view for a second to look at you again, an amused look forming on his face.

You know, you begin, as your former gang leader and all.

“The heck are ya’ talkin’ about?” Cliff responds, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “Nothing’s changed, boss.”

You blink. That’s uh… Wait, what? Still smiling, Cliff takes another puff from his cigarette as his gaze returns to the city.

“Just think of it as… Delegation. You’ve got enough on your plate--let me do the worryin’ about these greaseballs.”

You begin to respond, but pause as the meaning of his words dawns on you, a smile forming on your face.

“I’m happy too.” Cliff continues, avoiding your gaze. “After everything us boneheads have done, you had no reason ta’ come over and play dice wit’ us.”

You nod--he’s uh… He’s not wrong.

“Why, though?” He asks, turning towards you. “You coulda’ tore us to shreds, probably. Why didn’t you?”

Cliff stares you in the eye, waiting for an answer. Why INDEED?
>Talking seemed easier than fighting.
>There’s still some humanity in you guys, right?
>Strategy. Didn’t want other skeletons to hear the noise.
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4682970
>The voices told me to beause they like playing diplomancers!
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.
>>
>>4682970
>There’s still some humanity in you guys, right?
>>
Getting pretty tired and the booze is wearing off--I'll check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST to see if we've reached a consensus, otherwise I'll just flip a coin! Seeya then!
>>
>>4682970
>I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest. I guess it just felt like the right move at the time. You guys might be dead, but you're still people.
>>
>>4682990
+1 on the spoilered option
>>
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Just started this quest and think it’s gucci af. So gucci that I’m dropping this bad boy— erm, girl... right in your thread.
>>
>>4682970
Alright as the guy who made the roll that landed us the skeleboys, allow me to comment
>"I wanted to play some dice, and had a feeling that you wouldn't back down. It seems like it was a good feeling after all."
>>
>>4683124
>>4683202
+1 to either of these
>>
>>4683166
I'll tell you what IS Gucci--this FANART! Thanks for reading, anon--hope you stick around and continue to enjoy! Are you a QM, by chance? Your art style reminds me of Siren_QM's.

>>4682990
>>4683043
>>4683124
>>4683149
>>4683202
>>4683235
I'm gonna try to blend some of these together--sorry for the late start! Got caught up cooking breakfast and you know how it goes...
>>
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How do you explain your actions? You’ve always lived by your ‘Go With the Flow’, ‘Rock-and-Roll’, ‘Take-No-Prisoners’ lifestyle, but now that someone is actively calling you out on your actions…

Well, introspection hasn’t always been your thing.

Part of you wants to suggest that your actions aren’t your own--ever since your night shift at Good Boy you can’t help but feel… Guided. Perhaps even compelled?

Or maybe that’s just you trying to wiggle out of taking responsibility for your actions--the ‘invisible watchers’ excuse certainly didn’t work for you in Middle School, why would it make sense now?

Panic settling in, you decide to just start talking--maybe something poignant will come out!

‘I uh… I really don’t know, to be honest.’

SHIT. Adjust heading by 48 degrees and hold! We can save this!

’I guess it just felt like the right move at the time. You guys might be dead, but you’re still people--I wanted to play some dice and thought you guys wouldn’t back down--you seemed human enough.’

Cliff takes a moment to sift through your word vomit, his face more indecipherable than before. A fresh gust of cool wind blows along the roof as you both sit there thinking about what’s been said.

“Just when I think I’ve got ya’ figured out…” Cliff begins, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, “You prove me wrong, kid.”

You’re about to apologize when Cliff holds out a finger, silencing you. “You make some interestin’ choices and the jury’s still out on what’s goin’ on in your head, but you’ve got heart, Stan. And that’s gonna kill you as a leader.”

You can’t help but blink, confused. What’s that mean?

“Ain’t a bad thing, but it ain’t an easy thing either.” Cliff explains, “They always say the hardest part of bein’ a leader’s the decision-making. You know, choosing who lives, who dies, all that jazz.”

You nod. You almost had a heart attack when Art and Syb were held at gunpoint! Cliff shakes his head, taking another puff from his cigarette.

“The hardest part, kid, is that no matter how hard you try, or how much you plan, when you’re a leader you’ll always have people revvin’ their engines to take a bullet for you--and no matter who does it, it’s always gonna leave a mark--even if you’re a miserable bastard like Rocky was.”

Finishing his smoke, Cliff flicks the butt off of the roof and watches it disappear into the inky blackness below.

“One leader to another--keep an eye on the people who follow you. One of these days you’re gonna get into trouble and it’s one of them that’s gonna take da’ hit for you.”

You meditate on his words as Cliff produces another smoke from his pocket.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4683751
“And while we’re on the subject,” He continues, lighting a fresh cigarette, “let me share an old’ East Clearwater sayin’: “Talk sweet, punch hard”. Get me?”

Sorta… He’s saying to be strong and cute, right?

“Not exactly.” Cliff chuckles, grinning your way. “No, I mean be careful who you try to be nice to. You got lucky with me and the boys--imagine what woulda’ happened if your pals really were held at gunpoint and we did betray you.”

You don’t exactly want to! If that hadn’t worked out the way it did, well…

Sensing your thoughts, Cliff lightly rests his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t dwell on it, kid, learn from it. Never gonna dodge a punch if you’re starin’ at a bruise.”

Something about those words click in your head--like you’ve heard something similar before...

He almost sounds like your brother.

“Hope dat’s a compliment.” Cliff remarks, staring at the night sky. Rising to his feet, the greaser looks down at you.

“You’ll do alright. Just think about what I said and don’t leave your pals with undead delinquents.”

Tousling your hair, Cliff gives you one last cryptic look, then heads towards where you found him.

“Didn’t mean ta’ interrupt your siesta--we’ll talk more in da’ mornin’.”

Hold on, is there anything else you wanna DO or SAY before he leaves?
>ONE MORE THING! (WRITE-IN)
>Nah, let him go
>>
>>4683756
>Nah, let him go

Cliff is based as hell
>>
>>4683765
Hit the road, Jack!

Writing!
>>
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You utter a quick ‘thanks!’ as the leader of the greasers leaves, giving you one last wave as he goes. As you hear the thump of the trap door opening and closing, you sit there for a moment to mull over what Cliff told you.

“Dat’ was cute, cupcake. ‘You almowwst sound wike my bruduuh’!” Ly teases in a falsetto voice. Shut the hell up, creep--he could have added to the conversation if he was bored!

“Nah, I figured you could use some one-on-one time.” Ly replies, grinning. “Sounds like he’s lookin’ out for us after all.”

Seems that way. Your gaze slowly returns to the view in front of you, your eyes stinging from the cold air.

“Dis’ view really is somethin’, though.” Ly adds, taking a seat next to you. It’s definitely something when there’s no lights, huh?

“I wonder,” Ly begins, “How’s dis’ all gonna end, anyways?”

When you cave Tim’s skull in, duh. Ly shakes his astral head.

“Nah, I mean… Assumin’ we succeed, den’ what? Do all da’ skeletons go away? Do they stick around?”

You uh… You hadn’t really thought about that. If it’s anything like vampires, well… Once Tim goes, they all go. Would certainly clean up the town.

“Stan…” Ly begins, staring at you, “Will uh… D’ya think I’m gonna disappear?”

You hope not--you’d be pretty useless without your bones! Ly shakes his head again, an unusual tone in his voice,

“You know what I mean, Stan. Me. Da’ guy talkin’ to ya’ right now.”

Christ, you just wanted to get some AIR--are Syb and Art waiting their turns down the ladder too?! What do you say?

>You’ll stick around, Ly, don’t worry.
>I uh… I think you’ll disappear too, pal.
>Necromancy works in mysterious ways…
>I don’t know--guess it depends on how this plays out.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4683972
>WRITE-IN
>"You said you were with me before, you'll be here with me after."
>>
>>4683991
+1
>>
>>4683991
+1. We'll make sure to drink more milk to show him we care when this is all said and done
>>
>>4683972
>>4683991
+1
>>
>>4683991
>>4683992
>>4684019
>>4684021
Writing!
>>
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A grin forms on your face and you lightly punch through Ly’s astral shoulder. What’s he worried about?

“Come on, Stan--I mean it..”

And so do you! He said he was with you before, he’d better believe he’ll be around after! Hell, whatever happens you’ll only go for calcium-rich stuff when all this is done--THAT’S how much you care! Ly stares at you for a moment, speechless.

Then wraps his spectral arms around you in a hug.

“Thanks, Stan.”
Making sure you aren’t being watched by anyone, you gingerly wrap an arm around Ly. It isn’t easy with him being a projection, and all, but you feel good regardless.

A few moments later, you and your skeleton awkwardly separate, clearing your throats and adjusting your seating.

“Not a word to da’ others, yea?” Ly asks.

Not a WORD.

Taking in the view a little longer, you shake the cold off of your body and rise to your feet--if you stay here any longer you’re bound to pass out right here!

“Anything else we oughta do?” Ly asks, floating next to you. Not much... You maybe have enough energy for ONE more activity before hitting the sack....
>VISIT an area in the school(WRITE-IN CLASS or ROOM (Ex. Library, Garage, Etc.))
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>BED time. You don’t want Art to get the best bed, right?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684098
>>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>>
>>4684098
>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!
>>
>>4684098
>VISIT an area in the school(WRITE-IN CLASS or ROOM (Ex. Library, Garage, Etc.))
Let's try and find a book about those druidic ruins, maybe we can get some sweet knowledge
>>
>>4684119
Sorry, forgot to mention
>VISIT the Library
>>
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>>4683687
>Are you a QM, by chance? Your art style reminds me of Siren_QM's.


It's weird. A lot of people tell me my art style reminds them of Siren's-- it's really weird, I'll tell you that. Not at all fishy or nothin...' Heh. Fishy.

It's almost as if... we're the exact same person.

Totally crazy, amirite?
>>
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>>4684098

Voting even though I have no clue what's happening at this point. Still got 4.5 threads until I'm caught up

>>Take a SHOWER--today’s been rough!

>>4684144

Also gonna leave the original, unscreentoned version of this here cause ink is rad af and the details are a bit easier to see.
>>
>>4684144
I fucking KNEW it. Thanks for checking this one out! Full disclosure, I gotta catch up with yours too--was following it for a while, then lost track of shit when I moved. Hope your hiatus isn't for much longer! I posted your stuff on the IMGUR with your tag attached--thanks again for making it and I hope you make it through the 4.5 other threads!

>>4684113
>>4684118
>>4684186
>Wash away your SINS

>>4684127
>Having fun isn't hard when you've got a library card

WRITING!
>>
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Taking one last look at the dead city from the roof, you quietly make your way back down the way you came up. With luck Syb is continuing her nerd shit in the library--she should have the 411 about everything tomorrow morning. Hopefully over eggs and bacon.

Art is…

Well, Art is probably either getting lost and confused or pissing someone off. The guy needs to learn to be more independent, though, so you resolve to let him handle stuff by himself. Can’t have you always coming to the rescue, after all!

“So where are we goin’, then?” Ly asks, joining you in your climb down the ladder.

You, and ONLY you, are going to wash today off. It’s been hours since Sybil’s apartment and you’ve got a fresh layer of sweat, ash, and gunpowder all over you--the girl’s changing room in the gym will do the trick.

“Place’ll be all yours, huh?” Ly asks.

Duh! No such thing as a female greaser, Ly!

A pack of greaser skeletons wearing tight leather pants, jackets, lipstick, and stiletto heels stare daggers at you as you pass by. Man, these greasers have some weird style!

---------------------------------------------------------
It doesn’t take long for you to reach the gym again. Several pods of greasers loiter in the halls talking amongst themselves, throwing dice, smoking, etc. The ones that stare at you do so with a much less menacing energy--maybe Cliff really CAN get these guys under control!

“Guess we’ll have ta’ wait an’ see…” Ly replies.

Speaking of guys under control, HE can wait outside! You hover near the entrance to the girl’s shower room, pointing down the hall.

“Yea, yea…Knock yourself out.” Ly mutters, drifting away. With a triumphant grin you duck into the shower room and flick the light switch revealing rows upon rows of benches and lockers. With an annoyed sigh, you begin the painstaking process of checking each row for skeletons, demons, mutants, or Art.

Coast CLEAR.

Compared to the rest of the school, the girl’s shower room is surprisingly cleaner than you expected--guess the boneheads were too squeamish to come in to wreck the place! In fact, this almost looks better than you remember--did they REDO this whole thing?!

Examining the shower stalls, you confirm your suspicions--yep, these are all new. Lockable doors, clean drains, holders for toiletries--Kinda lame that you didn’t get these when you were a student here, but it seems to have worked out for you in the end!

Loitering near a particularly nice shower stall, it suddenly dawns upon you that none of these showers have any supplies in them.

DAMN IT.

What do?
>Shower anyways--you can just shake off like a dog after.
>Scour the lockers for a towel or something!
>Screw it, you don’t need to shower anyways.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684312
>Scour the lockers for a towel or something!
>>
>>4684312
>WRITE IN
10,000IQ plan incoming

We'll use the TIN of Dr. Harrington's Hair Wrangler Pomade as shampoo. That stuff was meant to go in hair anyway, so it should do the trick!

As for a towel, we'll unscrew the head of our TELESCOPING MOP and use that. It's great at absorbing water!
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4684312

>1 = scour the lockers
>2 = 10000 IQ plan
>>
>>4684319
>"Oh hey, this sound reasonable!"

>>4684322
>>4684349
>https://youtu.be/_8ma8adKm4I

Never change, /qst/. You have all brought so much joy to my dreary life these past few months... Writing!
>>
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You’re tired! You don’t have the ENERGY or TIME to go on a scavenger hunt looking for items in these lockers--they’re probably full of mold… Or worse, COSMETICS! You’ll be here for EONS if you start becoming self-conscious and start experimenting with looks--best to let sleeping dogs lie!

Thankfully, this isn’t the first and certainly won’t be the last time you’ve had to improvise shower supplies, and it just so happens you have plenty of replacements for those overly-expensive shampoos, body washes, and towels!

Come one, come all: THIS IS SAVING WITH STAN!

Actually, never mind--if someone actually hears you talking they might investigate and that’ll be awkward as hell--you decide to just prepare QUIETLY!

https://youtu.be/wyz_2DEah4o

Okay, so don’t have body wash--no problem! Filling your MICROBUCKET with HAND SOAP from the sinks solves that problem! The RUBBER BOOTS you’ve been carrying around serve as excellent foot protectors too--suck on THAT, foot fungus!

Parking your TELESCOPING MOP outside the stall, you unscrew the top for use in drying off later--good thing the FLAMMABLE OIL left on it from the fight with Nico’s basically all dried up!

For the piece de resistance, you bring the tin of Dr. Harrington’s Hair Wrangler Pomade into the stall--styling is basically washing, right?

Surveying your jerry-rigged shower ensemble, you can’t help but nod approvingly. Stan: 1,000,000, Body Care Industry: ZIP!

Looks like you’re all set! Stripping down, you triumphantly step into the stall and crank the water. Time for some pre-bed relaxaAAAAUUGH, COoOoOOLD!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4684506
https://youtu.be/Lgbv4PranP0
After getting over the initial shock from the cold water, you slowly adjust to the temperature and get to cleanin’. Though it’s nowhere near as refreshing as the one you took earlier today at Sybil’s apartment, you’d be lying if it didn’t hit the spot! Plus Ly didn’t have to follow you in this time, so you finally get a chance to get some peace and quiet!

As the warm water runs through your hair and down your body, your mind wanders aimlessly. Rocky’s deader than disco, sure, but what about the other lieutenants? Who should you go after next? Hell, should you even go after one? Rocky might have been a jerk til’ the end, but you find it hard to believe he’d lie about your employers.

Scooping up some hand soap from your trusty MICROBUCKET, you continue to contemplate your situation as you begin scrubbing. Good Boy might not be behind it all, or maybe they are--whatever the answer is, you should probably try to track one of those security stations Art was talking about down--maybe those might have the answers you need, or at the very least a clue.

But what about the lieutenants? The Cowboy supposedly hangs around Joplin--that old ghost town you used to go on field trips to. The Pirate and his crew supposedly hang out on the coast, but that talk of there being a SEA DEMON makes you a little hesitant about going into open water… Plus you forgot to bring a swimsuit, so too bad!

Speaking of, the goons in the Sea Witches’ employ apparently visited the museum. If there really is an Atlantis exhibit there, couldn’t there be something of use in getting to the underwater city? You hope so.

There’s also The General--Rocky’s favorite. His men currently occupy Central Clearwater--conveniently the area where both the Police Station and the National Guard Depot are. Weird how easily they took that part over!

And then there’s the other oddities. The fairy. The mascot demon you fought. The human scientist working with Tim and her spooky creation you haven’t had the pleasure of running into yet! Questions are just piling up and here you are washing your HAIR!

This pomade stuff is nice, though--smells like eucalyptus!

You linger a bit longer under the warm stream of water, then shut down the water.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4684508
Snatching the head of your mop from outside of the stall, you begin the painstaking process of drying off. By the time you work your way up to your hair, you notice that it feels more… Well, MOLDABLE! In fact, you think you could maybe give your hair a NEW STYLE!

>Time to get creative! Describe Stan’s new hairstyle a

But you don’t. Rubbing the remaining product out of your hair, you tousle your hair into its trademark ‘messy’ state--you don’t want to have to style it every time you take a shower--no one’s THAT creative!

Retrieving your clothes from the floor, you put everything back on and check your pockets for any missing items--nope, still there. In fact, you still have some POMADE left over--you stow that in your pockets. As for the MOP HEAD, you place it back onto your TELESCOPING MOP with a satisfying ‘click’. Back in the saddle.

Your body radiating with warmth, you think you’re FINALLY ready to hit the sack! Not a moment too soon, either--it’s getting close to midnight!

As you turn to leave the room, something tugs at your mind--did you want to do anything else before heading to the Nurse’s Office?
>Nah, time for bed.
>Okay, maybe I’ll check a few lockers…
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684510
>Nah, time for bed.
Let's get a good night's rest and try to tackle one of those security stations in the morning. If there's one in the greaser's 'zone', we can at least try to infiltrate it without worrying about enemy skeletons.
>>
>>4684528
Get some winks!

Writing!
>>
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About to game with some friends--will check in later!

You decide you’ve spent enough time in the shower room--you’ve done what you needed and you’re pretty sure rooting through these lockers is more trouble than it’s worth. Making a few quick adjustments in the mirror, you head for the door, flicking the light switch as you go.

Emerging from the shower room, you scan the hall for any sign of Ly, but come up short. A few greasers look your way, but none of them are the skeletons you’re looking for…

“Didja miss me?”

Jumping at the sound of Ly’s voice behind you, you instinctually flip around and deliver a right hook to his jaw!

Unfortunately he’s incorporeal, so instead your fist connects with the wall. Yow.

“Take it easy, cupcake!” Ly remarks as you shake the pain out of your fist, “I thought the last two activities were supposed to calm ya’ down!”

Yea, no such luck! As the pain quickly subsides from your fist, you motion for Ly to follow you--it’s bed time!

“Finally. I checked around and dis’ whole place is just the same crap--dice, smokin’, and fights…”

High School hasn’t changed a bit, apparently! Making your way towards the Nurse’s Office, you freeze as you spy Art and Syb coming from down the corridor--and they’re LAUGHING!

“So it turns out he wasn’t at all--he was just Italian!” Art finishes, causing Sybil to almost fall off of his shoulder cackling! Man, you haven’t seen her like this in a while!

Adopting the coolest pose you can, you lean against the wall and wait for them to approach. Your friends barely notice you until they’re practically right on top of you, causing them both to snap back to reality.

“Oh! Stan!” Art exclaims, his posture straightening. “I was just making sure Sybil got back okay from the library--you know, since we’re still not sure about the greasers” He explains, silently mouthing the last word.

“Y-yes!” Sybil adds, “And I was just making sure Arthur here made it to the Nurse’s Office--I figured I could just head back to the library once you two went to bed.”

You raise an eyebrow as you stare in the direction of the library. Isn’t it, like, on the opposite end of the school?

“Of course, how silly of me!” Sybil replies, glancing towards the library. “I went a bit too far, it seems--Good night!”

The doll floats away without another word, scaring the utter crap out of a pack of greasers down the hall. You glance back at Art, his face more sweaty and anxious than usual.

“Uhh… Great school you have here! Man, those bricks in the wall? Pretty stylish!”

You squint a bit as you scrutinize his face--yep, just like a fox in a chicken coop.

“Come again?”

How do you respond?
>You DON’T. You wanna go to bed.
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>WARN Art to back off!
>SET SOME GROUND RULES. Art’s on [thin ice here!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
Fully support them, but make sure he knows that if he ever hurts her then we'll have to give him a much closer look at our BONE CLAWS
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>>
>>4684680
>>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies
>>
>>4684680
>APPROVE of Art’s choice in ladies.
>DISAPPROVE of Sybil’s choice in men.
>SET SOME GROUND RULES. Art’s on [thin ice here!
>Let out a SINGLE MANLY TEAR
>>
>>4684697
>>4684791
>>4684806
>>4684840
>>4685005
Aaaaand we're back with probably the last update of the night! Writing!
>>
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You spend a few moments ‘Mad Doggin’ Art, waiting for him to either apologize or run away--he does neither. Good, that will do.

“What will do?” Art asks. “Look, I know what it looks like, Stan, but--”

But nothing. With a slightly pained sigh, you hold out a fist to Art, inviting him to bump it. The security goon complies, albeit with some reluctance.

“Are we cool, or?” He inquires, his voice trailing off at the end. You nod, a smile slowly growing on your face--yes, Art, you’re cool. With some GROUND RULES, that is.

“What? Wait a minute…” Art’s eyes light up in recognition--he’s gonna have to work on that awareness if he plans to be worthy!

“Stan, I… Look, I get it, okay?” Art sputters, failing to form an appropriate sentence. “We’ve just been talking a bit, okay? Nothing serious--it’s just…”

She’s an angel.

“Well… Well sure...” Art agrees, more beads of sweat on his face than ever before. “I was gonna say that she’s also pretty smart and has a podcast that’s pretty cool… And I know it’s not an appropriate time at all, so don’t worry--I won’t ‘rush in’ or anything!”

He’s damn RIGHT he won’t! Creeping forward with your finger outstretched, you begin laying GROUND RULES: Rule Number One: If she feels hurt, scorned, neglected, or otherwise mistreated for one second, Art’s gonna be having a talk with THE BONE CLAW ORGANIZATION. Does he know what THE BONE CLAW ORGANIZATION is?

“Yea, of cou--”

It’s your CLAWS, Art. Rule Number Two: Sybil initiates everything. EVERYTHING.

“Everything?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

EVERYTHING.

“Okay, not sure if I agree with that, bu-”

Rule the Third: Art will defend the HELL outta’ her or DIE TRYING. You hear that, Art?

“Ye-”

DIE.

Art nods, chuckling uncomfortably. “I planned on it anyways, Stan-”

Good. Do that and he has your blessing. The Rent-A-Cop smiles at you, looking a bit more relieved as you finish up.

“Thanks for understanding, Stan! I won’t let you dow-”

You extend a claw inches away from Art’s face--no, you won’t let SYBIL down!

“Right! Sybil! Loud and clear!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4685067
You nod, feeling a cornucopia of feelings coming on. One one hand, Art’s found one of the best women on Earth, but on the other hand Sybil might be dooming herself to dating an admitted sex pervert. That said, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t respect the balls it took for Art to go for it!

“Does that mean that ‘Respect List’ from a few updates back is gonna be updated?”

Nope, but he’s made a good choice. Overwhelmed with emotion, you shed a single manly tear to commemorate the occasion.

And another.

Whoops, that’s a lot of single manly tears.

“Are… Are you crying?”

NO! You just… There’s just a lot of dust in here, that’s it! Using your hoodie to mop up your single manly tears, you continue past Art down the hall towards the Nurse’s Office determined to put this day to rest once and for all.


"You sure you don't need a tissue or something?" Art hollers behind you!

Y-YES!

>CONTD.
>>
>>4685068
Alright, folks--passing out for the night. Should update tomorrow by 3PM PST at the LATEST. Seeya then and thanks as always for playin'!

Several minutes of ugly single manly tears later, you and Art arrive at the entrance to the Nurse’s Office with little difficulty and conversation. When you arrive at the office the bulky form of Wyatt stands by the door like a gargoyle, a shotgun and several bags of shells sitting next to him. Noticing the two humans in the school approaching, he gives you a polite nod, then pushes the doors open for both of you.

“Come on in.”

Peering through the door you find yourself looking at, well, a pretty regular Nurse’s Office. Sure, the windows are boarded up and blocked with desks and most of the cabinets seem to have been rummaged through, but aside from that it looks pretty typical! Two beds sit in the corner of the room divided by a white curtain, emergency blankets already unfolded on their mattresses.

“I’ll take the one near the door!” Art offers. “If something happens, I’ll be the first up to help deal with it.”

You nod--it doesn’t really matter to you either way so long as you get some shuteye. Eyeing your options, you silently plan your next move.

>Actually, why don’t I take the bed closer to the door?
>Talk to Wyatt a bit
>Chat Art up
>Search the cabinets
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4685069
>Search the cabinets
Nurses office might have some goodies we could use, I really hope that for some inexplicable reason we find a bone saw.
>>
>>4685069
>Search the cabinets
>>
>>4685069
>Chat Art up
If he's gonna be potentially dating Sybil let's get to know him a little better. Surely there's *something* she sees in him
>Search the cabinets
This also
>>
>>4685077
>>4685094
>>4685203
>Casual looting and maybe chatting up Art, why not

Writing!
>>
Since you didn’t scratch your kleptomaniac itch in the shower room, it’s only natural you’d do it here! As Art gets his things settled on the bed closer to the entrance, you begin the task of scouring every cabinet, drawer, and cranny you can find.

“You uh…” Art begins, fluffing his pillow, “You need help with that?”

Not really, no, but as you yank a drawer out of the Nurse’s Office cabinet and dump its contents to the floor, you realize that despite having borrowed him for almost a whole day, you don’t really know much about Art!

Kidnapped.” Art corrects, “And you know about me! I go to Clearwater U, I’m an artist, I was a security guard at Good Boy...” He reminds you, counting the facts on his fingers, “... I wear contacts, I went to Weston High in West Clearwater, and I’m all-in-all a pretty cool dude!”

Okay, the jury’s still out on the last one, but it’s true--he hasshared a lot of info with you. Content with your pillaging, you manage to scrounge up a few USEFUL ITEMS among the rest of the garbage in the Nurse’s Office including:

-1 STETHOSCOPE
-1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
-1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
-1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
-1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!

Grinning from cheek to cheek, you turn around to share your bounty with Art. The Rent-A-Cop looks at the objects in your hands, clearly impressed.

“Those could come in useful.”

Even Wyatt adds a low whistle from the doorway. Why do people leave this stuff lying around?

“Pretty sure skeletons don’t need bandages, cupcake.” Ly suggests.

True. Plopping onto the edge of your bed, Art stares at you expectantly, clearly in a talking mood.

Damn it.

What do you want to ask him? You probably have enough energy for TWO questions at most--you need your beauty sleep!
>Why is he still awake? Let’s go to BED, dammit!
>What’s his favorite VIDEO GAME?
>What’s his FAMILY like?
>Want a STICKER? (What STICKER does he get?)
>WRITE-IN
>>
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>>4685731
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 out on nerd business)
>1 TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT
>1 PAINTER'S RESPIRATOR MASK
>1 ZIPPO LIGHTER
>1 TELESCOPING BLUE STEEL MOP (The Kaiser)
>1 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 6 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>>
>>4685731
>What’s his favorite VIDEO GAME?
>What’s his FAMILY like?
>>
>>4685741
The IMPORTANT questions! Writing!
>>
>>4685741

+1
>>
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You’re pretty sure you heard him talking about games earlier--maybe Art’s taste in games will make up for his shitty attitude?

“You uh… You don’t have to narrate your thoughts, Stan.” Art reminds you, a tired look on his face.

Right. Crossing your legs and getting comfortable on your bed, you fire off with your question: what are his FAVORITE GAMES?

“Oooh, toughie.” Art responds, a conflicted look on his face. Drumming his fingers on the helmet next to him on the bed, he slowly forms an answer.

“I’d say RPGs and Survival Horror games are my favorite, mainly RPGs.

Such as?

Art leans back a bit, presumably sifting through a mental filing cabinet of video game names.

Herald’s Journey--ever play it?”

The one with the flute minigames, right? That was your jam during Freshman Year! Art responds with a grin.

“Yea, not your usual game, that’s for sure! Still gotta play the second one once this all blows over...”

So, you continue, stretching your legs, what about Survival Horror games?

Big fan of Blood-Sucking Freaks and Stab!”

You blink a few times, a giddy smile forming on your lips.

“You like those too?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you watch as Art relaxes a bit and matches you smile!

“I could play 1, 2, and 3 for the rest of my life and never get bored. NEVER.”

You know! The replayability’s amazing for such classic games! And the gameplay--

“Unmatched!” Art squeals like a schoolgirl! “I was arguing about that with my sister Greta the other day--no other Survival Horror game has ever hit that balance of inventory management and combat. NONE.”

Who’s his favorite character? You’re into it now!

“Chester--gotta be.” Art chuckles, “To be totally honest I wanted to be him growing up… He’s just got that cool factor, you know?”

Oh, you KNOW! You preferred playing as Rin, of course, but Chester had his… Qualities.

“Fuckin’-A.” Art agrees, nodding. “Stab was great too--totally different gameplay mechanics, but still awesome.”

Yea, you could barely play that one yourself--you always had to watch a stream or your brother play it. Art’s ears perk up at the last bit.

“Oh yea, you mentioned your brother before. He’s uh… East Coast, right?”

You feel a knot tighten inside your chest. Yea… Sensing he’s treading into rough territory, Art deftly saves the conversation!

“I… I uh… Well, sorry, I..”

Whoops, no he doesn’t. Looks like it’s up to you!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4685961
“Didn’t he say he had a sister?” Ly whispers into your ear! Hey, yea! What’s Art’s family like?

“My family? Let’s see…” Quickly recovering, the security guard counts a few people off on his fingers!

“Like I mentioned before, my mom and dad live up in Washington--dad’s a pilot, mom works for Fresh. You know, the grocery store company?

Sure you do--you uh…. You might be banned from it, but you know what he’s talking about!

“Riiiiight…” Art replies, not picking up that rope. “Anyways, they were never home that much because of their jobs, so I was basically raised by my sisters.”

Ah yes, Greta and… The other one.

“Sal. Both older. You’d probably like them, though--they were the ones who got me into games.”

How do they feel about paranormal podcasts, hm? Art shifts in his seat a bit.

“They uh… They like to give me shit about it.” Art responds, rolling his eyes. “They’re both closet dweebs too, though, so they can’t really talk. Greta works for a travel company and Sal’s a Personal Trainer--both of em’ out of state, thank god.”

You nod--you’re not sure what caused everyone’s family members to conveniently not be in town during all of this, but looks like it’s a blessing in disguise! Art laughs, then looks at you expectantly.

“So uh… I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about your brother?”

The tightness in your chest returns.

“I get it--you told me about him leaving with Heather or whatever, you don’t have to share if you don’t feel like it.”

Maybe… Maybe later. It’s nothing bad, but… Not now.

Art nods understandingly.

“I uh… I miss my siblings too.”

…Yea.

“Well…” Art continues, pushing past the awkwardness, “Good to finally meet you, Stan.” Art remarks, smiling. You give him one of your own--yea, it’s nice to finally meet him too!

A few more questions flit back and forth through your mind, but you also feel sleep tugging at your eyelids…

>One more question! (WRITE-IN)
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.

Good to know Art has some quality interests! When the skeleton apocalypse is over we'll have to try multiplayer sometime.

Also wow that Herald's Journey game sounds fun :^) Thanks for the little shoutout!
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685967
>G’night, Art.
>>
>>4685980
>>4685989
>>4686022
>Time to hit the sack!

Writing!
>>
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Your curiosity sated for now, you pop your boots off and hang your hat and shades on the end of the metal bed frame. It’s been nice, but this is the first bed you’ve been in for hours and you’re not about to waste it!

“I hear THAT.” Art agrees, undoing his combat boots and leaving them at the foot of his bed along with his rifle. “Feels like we’ve been doing nothing but moving all day, huh?”

You shrug--all things considered, you don’t feel too bad, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit sleepy!

“Guess that bone marrow really helps.” Art quips, shooting you a tired smirk. Oh SHIT, he’s right! You’d probably be dead standing up right now if you didn’t have that magic marrow pumping energy into you!

“Good thing I told ya’ about it back ‘den!” Ly boasts, stretching out on the bed next to you. Wait, he’s not sleeping next to you, is he?

“Uhhh… No?” Art replies, confused. NOT HIM, LY!

“Don’t really gotta.” Ly answers, propping himself on a shoulder and facing you. “I figure I might as well stand guard wit’ Wyatt out there--shoot da’ shit, talk shop, you know da’ drill.”

You glance in the direction of Wyatt’s mammoth shadow outside of the door. Pretty sure he can’t hear you, man. Ly peers in the direction of the door, then shrugs.

“Eh, I’ll find somethin’ ta do. Just promise Dr. Ly you’ll get some sleep, huh missy?” Your skeleton orders, nudging you with an elbow. Yea, yea, just take it easy!

“Always do!” Ly quips, winking with his eye socket. Somehow. Rolling your eyes, you roll over in the direction of Wyatt and Art and bid them both a good night!

“Sweet dreams.” Wyatt grunts, gently sliding the door to the Nurse’s Office shut.

“You too, Stan!” Art responds, adjusting his pillow. “Wake me if something crazy happens, alright?”

You nod--sure, if you remember! With a good-natured sigh, Art gives you one last thumbs-up before rolling over. Quietly wishing Ly a good night as well, you close your eyes and do your best to shut out the muffled shouts and activity of the greasers outside. Tomorrow your task continues, but for now…

Now you REST.

Goodbye reality,

Hello Dream World.

>Welcome back, traveller. Where do you find yourself tonight? WRITE-IN details or leave blank for a random choice!
>A memory
>A good dream!
>A NIGHTMARE!
>Somewhere or something else (WRITE-IN)

In other news, just hit page 500 in my Google Doc! Thank you all so much for participating for HALF A THOUSAND PAGES whether you're active participants or lurkers! I'll be taking a break for the rest of the night, but I hope to see y'all around 3-4PM PST tomorrow for updates!
>>
>>4686178
>>A good dream!
We've had a lot of nightmares and sad times recently, I say we've earned ourselves a good dream. Let's try to dream of a happy future after the skeleton apocalypse is over, or maybe a happy memory of our family from the past.
>>
>>4686178
I just had a semi-nightmare today (the kind where things aren't scary, but annoying and embarrassing instead), so let Stan have
>A good dream!
A riverside picnic with our bro and Sybil while Boris is drowning in the background
>>
>>4686178

Good dream
>>
>>4686197
>>4686239
>>4686261
Awww, you guys are a lot sweeter than the anons who picked 'NIGHTMARE' last time! Writing!
>>
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It’s sunny.

You feel the warm, but gentle tickle of the afternoon breeze and the sun’s rays on your face as you raise your cup to your lips.

Yep, that’s delicious.

“This was a great idea, Stan! What a perfect day for a picnic!”

You look up from your drink to see your best friend Sybil sitting about a foot away from you on the checkered picnic blanket, her hands cradling a matching cup and the shaft of a black and white parasol, her pale skin absolutely GLOWING in the midday light!

That black sun dress she’s wearing is pretty great too.

“Not as cute as yours!” Your friend responds! Glancing downwards, you notice that in place of your work coveralls and hat you’re wearing a lavender sundress and a purple hair bow--perfect for a relaxing day by the lake!

“And that bow? You’re GLOWING today, Stan!”

Blushing at the compliment, you take another look around the picnic area. A tall oak tree shields you and Syb from the majority of the sun, and down the hill you see the lake--its surface as still as a mirror.

Between you and Syb sits a large picnic basket stuffed to the brim with treats--better to pack for more than you need, right? Rooting around in the basket, your hand eventually returns with a toasty grilled cheese sandwich--the bread perfectly browned and the cheese almost oozing out of the sides!

“Hey!” Sybil chides, a playful look on her face, “We’re still waiting for someone!”

You raise an eyebrow--who, Art? The goth chuckles a bit, politely covering her mouth.

“Of course not, Stan--today’s about you, remember?”

You nod slowly--yes, of course it is…

As you debate what to do with your sandwich, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching through the grass! An ENEMY!

Unsheathing your BONE CLAWS, you--wait a minute, where are your BONE CLAWS? You try to trigger them a few more times, but no dice--they just won’t come out! What gives?

“Relax, Stan!” Sybil reassures you, “There’s no skeletons here--no security guards, no monsters, no enemies!”

Hold on, you say, resisting the urge to take a bite out of the sandwich in your hand, what about that FREAK, Boris?

“He’s dead, remember?” Sybil explains about as easily as one discusses the plot of a TV show, “We drowned him. He’s over there!”

You follow your friend’s pale finger in the direction of the lake--squinting a bit you notice a pair of tacky red headphones bobbing in the center. Wait, how did--

“Oh look, he’s here!” Sybil exclaims, looking behind you! Not sure what to expect, you turn around and come face to face with…

“Yo.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4686999
You lose hold of your sandwich as your brother climbs the hill towards you wearing that same army surplus jacket he’s had since he was in High School. Beneath his unkempt chestnut hair and green eyes is a smile you haven’t seen in ages--a smile that freezes you in place like a statue.

He’s actually here!

“Of course I am!” He laughs, tousling your hair. “I’ve always got time for you, sis!”

“Me too!” Syb adds, patting the blanket and inviting him to sit down. “I’ll never leave you, Stan, no matter what!”

You don’t know how to respond, so you just smile. In your stupor you’re powerless to defend your sandwich from your brother, who quickly snatches it off of the blanket and takes a bite! Hey, what’s the big idea?!

“Snoosh yrrh lrrsh!” He replies, a chunk of sandwich sticking out of his mouth. With mock anger, you snatch another sandwich out of the basket and begin eating. The three of you fill the quiet air with laughter as you dig in, trying and failing to remember a time you’ve had this much fun...

But you can’t.

That’s not important, though--what do you wanna do?!
>Talk to your brother!!!
>Talk to Syb!
>Have some more food!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687002
>Talk to your brother!!!
>>
>>4687005
>>4687021
>>4687058
Not sure why I even made it a choice, ha ha! Writing!
>>
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Is that even a question?! Scarfing down a grilled cheese, you turn to your brother--when was the last time you saw him in person, anyways? You barely remember the wedding, but maybe there was a call or something after that? Did he visit? You’ve been so busy at work that it’s completely slipped your mind...

Wait a minute, WHO CARES?! He’s here now, right? As if reading your mind, your brother turns and looks at you with his trademark ‘quarter of a smile’.

“Wanna talk?”

DO YOU! Where the hell do you even begin?! How can he be so CALM about all of this?!

“Take it easy,” He chuckles, playfully punching you on the shoulder, “I’m not goin’ anywhere!”

“Dngh mnn mrrgh!” Sybil mumbles through a grilled cheese.

Pick as many topics as you want!
>How are you?
>Why don’t we talk anymore?
>Are you mad at me?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687071
>How are you?
>Why don’t we talk anymore?
>>
>>4687072
WRITING!
>>
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How is he? You’ve gotten some updates from mom and dad, of course, but you wanna hear it straight from the horse’s mouth! Your bro thinks for a moment, then smiles at you.

“Same old, same old.”

You feel a vein grow throb in your eye. That’s IT?! What does that even mean? He moved to the East Coast with his trophy art wife and all he can say is ‘SAME OLD, SAME OLD’?!

“How are you doing?” He asks, turning your own question against you! You scratch the back of your head as you formulate an appropriate response--you’re not bad right now, per se, but in real life…

Oh, right. This is a fucking dream. Your brother shrugs.

“Not the first thing you’ve forgotten.”

Yea, bu--wait, what? You narrow your eyes at your brother’s face, searching for any tells. What does that mean?

“Weren’t you going to ask something else?”

Well yea, but…

You sigh, massaging your temples--you weren’t prepared for this! When did it all become so complicated, exactly? Why couldn’t you just talk in real life? What’s the damn deal?!

“What else should we talk about?” Your brother asks, gently smiling your way. You coulda’ swore you were going to follow up on something he said, but you can’t remember…

“They say improper diet can cause memory loss.” Sybil adds, staring at you intently. Well you doubt it’s that.

“Then what’s your excuse?” Your brother follows up, still smiling.

Excuse for WHAT? Listen, forget about it! Pushing your rising annoyance back down, you take a deep breath--you were gonna ask why you don’t talk anymore! As the words leave your lips, you notice your brother’s expression darken a bit.

“Excuse me?”

He heard you--why don’t you talk anymore? He never answers your calls, texts, emails, hell, he doesn’t even leave you ‘on read’! How is that humanly possible!?

“I beg your pardon?”

Was it all meaningless? Did you do something to upset him? He talks to your parents, but what about YOU, damn it?!

“Say again?”

You feel a trickle running down your cheek and hastily wipe it off. He’s not going to stonewall you--he’s your brother, damn it, why doesn’t he ACT LIKE IT?!

“You’re breaking up…” Your brother replies. Confused, you find yourself blinking as a blanket of fog slowly settles in from the lake--as it creeps towards you, you feel your movements become more lethargic.

“Can’t hear you.”

You try to shout, but your mouth… It just isn’t moving fast enough! The sun over the lake slowly dims as you feel yourself waking up--clawing to hold on to your dream, you watch as Syb, your brother, and the picnic disappears into a haze…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687162
The ear-splitting sound of a fire alarm violently rouses you from your sleep, causing you to tumble off of your bed and onto the cold tile floor of the Nurse’s Office! Discombobulated, your eyes slowly adjust to the blurry crimson glow of emergency lights bathing the walls in a blood-red hue.

“Oh thank GOD!” You feel someone helping you to your feet before you can untangle yourself from the floor. Blinking a few more times, you’re able to make out Art, helmet on and rifle in his other hand.

“We’ve gotta go, Stan--NOW!”

Glancing towards the exit, your ears pick up the muffled sounds of activity outside--running, shouting, and the sound of guns being loaded! Through the frosted glass window in the door you see shapes moving, but no sign of Wyatt.

What the HELL?!

“NOW, Stan!” Art shouts, tugging at your arm!

What do?
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
>Let’s move!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!

Ain't no rest for the wicked! The wicked cool, that is
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
>>
>>4687164
>What’s happening?!
>Where’s Sybil?!
Well shit,our poop in a group.
>>
>>4687172
>>4687179
>>4687267
Never underestimate Stan's ability to ask questions during a crisis! Writing!
>>
>>4687164
>>What’s happening?!
>>Where’s Sybil?!
>>
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Wresting control of your arm from Art’s grasp, you motion for him to COOL IT for a second--what’s going on? He can tell you while you put your shoes on! The security goon glances at your boots discarded next to your bed, then acquiesces.

“Alright, but we’ve gotta go as soon as you’re laced up!”

Fine, now please stop shouting!

“Cliff put some people on watch duty,” Art begins, pacing back and forth. “And less than ten minutes ago they radioed in saying someone was approaching. Someone BIG.”

You blink as recognition smacks into your brain like a bird into a screen door. Collecting yourself, you turn your attention back to Art--did they say anything after that? The operative shakes his head.

“No updates since then. Cliff ordered everyone to split for now--you especially.”

You recall Rocky’s words about the specialist--he’s after you.

“Can you PLEASE put your shoes on now?!” Art shouts, pointing at your boots! SORRY, you were trying to be a good listener!

“I haven’t seen Sybil since the alarms started--I’ll go check on her in the library, you get out of here.”

Hold the phone, you say, lacing up a boot, who said anything about you separating from them? Art shakes his head.

“It’s for safety, Stan--if we move together we’re all at risk--”

His reasoning is interrupted by a chorus of weapon discharges outside. If the windows weren’t barricaded you might be able to see through, but that’s the way it be, it seems.

“Uuuuhh….” Art utters, limping over to the Nurse’s Cabinet and retrieving a stack of papers and a pen, “Look, whatever happens, meet us at this address.” He hobbles back over to you just as you finish up your other boot, handing you directions to an unfamiliar location. The HELL?!

“We don’t have time to argue, Stan--you’ve gotta trust me!” Art pleads as the sound of gunfire and shouting approaches the school! Donning your shades and hat, you nod--ready to go.

“Eyyy, whad’ I miss?” Ly quips, emerging from the floor like a sitcom character. BAD NEWS, that’s what! Where the hell was he anyways?

“Found some cool bugs unda’ ground, but it don’t mattuh’. Tell me on da' way!”

What’s the plan?
>Split up with Art, let him find Syb
>Screw that, help find Syb!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4687318
>split up with Art
>>
>>4687318
>Split up with Art, let him find Syb
Its us thats being chased, lets not lead it to them
>>
>>4687349
>>4687362
Splitting up! Writing!
>>
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You stare into Art’s eyes for a second, then nod--you’re not keen on splitting up, but he’s right: he and Syb will be in much less danger if you go your separate ways. Art lets out a relieved sigh, then gives you a quick salute!

“Don’t worry, Stan, you can count on me!”

You’re counting more on Syb, but he doesn’t need to know that. Slapping your cheeks a few times to wake up, you motion for Art to get a head start--you don’t want him to get caught in any crossfire!

“Thanks, Stan… Hey, assuming we make it out of all this?”

Yes?

“Let’s uh… Let’s have a game night--All of us!”

You facepalm--is he TRYING to raise death flags? GIT OUT! Shoving the Rent-A-Cop out the door, you take a moment on your bed as you hear him hastily limp down the hall. Him and that damn leg, you swear...

“So uh, remind me again what da’ score is?” Ly asks, materializing next to you. Well, you begin, someone’s coming to visit the school and you’re pretty sure it’s that specialist Rocky was talking about.

“Ooh.” Ly replies, eye sockets wide. “We’d better scoot, huh?”

Sometimes he amazes you with how smart he is. Rising to your feet, you crack your neck and head for the door--the shouts and reports of gunfire getting louder by the second!

Peering into the hallway, all that awaits you are is a box of shells left over by Wyatt, your knight in bony armor. Scooping them into your inventory, you scan the hall for any sign of the aforementioned ‘big guy’.

Nada.

“Whaddaya thinkin’?” Ly asks, floating close behind. “Sounds like da’ shots are comin’ from da’ back of da’ school…”

Then you’ll be a smart little bunny and go out the front, thanks! Maybe there’s a car you can snag! Creeping down the hall, your stealthiness is spoiled by a crackling in your pocket! Sifting through your inventory, you find the source almost immediately.

Huh. Radio? What’s going on with that radio? Before you can fiddle with it, the familiar, albeit crackly voice of Cliff comes through the speaker!

“..an? Can ya hear me, kid?” You nod, then realize he can’t see you and decide to respond with a quick ‘Yes, over’.

“Good--look, I dunno if Art gave ya the message, but we’re gettin’ outta the school for a while--couple of my guys laid a trap in the main entrance, but we’re pullin’ out for our safety. Sorry about that.”

A trap, huh? Reassuring Cliff that everything’s under control, over, that you’re on your way out, over, you continue in the direction of the main entrance.

“Good luck, kid--take any ride ya’ find and don’t stick around too long--we’ll hook up again real soon.”

Little did you know that would be the last time you’d ever see them…

“Can you stop dat’ already?” Ly chides, “It wasn’t funny da’ first time either!”

Whatever, Joke Grinch.
>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687421
Your mission to the entry hall goes off without a hitch--what was once a school crowded with skeleton greasers is now a ghost town--even the gunfire seems to have quieted down a bit!

“Nice of them ta’ leave us here all by our lonesome!” Ly mutters, watching your back. You shrug--if this thing is focused on killing you, why bother dragging others into the crossfire?

“How tough could dis’ thing be? Strength in numbas’, ya’ know? Get a bunch of guys together, boom--no more problem!”

Do you need to remind Ly about the melted deer corpse you saw this morning? The boot print almost as big as you?

“... To be fair, you ARE kinda petite, cupcake--”

Oh my god, you almost wish Art was here! By now he’s probably already whisked Syb away to whatever that address belongs to!

“Any idea what it is?” Ly asks as you continue down the hall. You shake your head--who can say? Probably some sort of anime pervert dungeon or something!

“And here I was thinkin’ you two reached an understandin’...” Ly muses. You like him a bit more, sure, but he’s still got a long way to go!

As you reach the main entrance, you come across a group of skeleton greasers planting a few strange machines on the floor.

“Alright, boys,” Announces the most capable-looking member in the bunch, “Da’ minute dat’ fink charges in, we give him a surprise party he ain’t never gonna forget!”

The leader mimes shooting the gizmos on the ground, prompting the group to chuckle amongst themselves. One of them catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of their eye socket and flags you down!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4687422
“Ey, meatbag! Perfect timin’!”

The rest of the group turns to face you as the leader runs his hands through his pompadour.

“Welcome to da’ show, Stan. Names’ Can-Do Kerry. Sit tight--we’ll be takin’ care of your stalker problem in a jiff!”

Lonnie Lugnuts!” Recites another greaser, shooting you some gun fingahs.

Squeaky-Wheel Sylvester!” shouts the one next to him, flipping a cigarette into his mouth!

Jeff Woods.” Murmurs the last guy. “Pleased to meet ya.”

Returning their greeting, you glance at the machines on the floor--what are those, exactly?

“Boom-boxes!” Answers Kerry, grinning madly. “Boxes fulla’ boom! Da’ minute dat guy comes waltzin’ in--”

He never gets a chance to explain--the front door to the school rips open before he can finish, letting in a concentrated red ray of light so hot you can feel it from where you’re standing! Before you can react, the light connects with a boom-box, causing the entryway to erupt in a series of explosions!

Flying backwards, you slam against the wall behind you and are knocked prone as bits of charred bone and pompadour impact on the wall next to you--looks like your new pals weren’t so lucky…

https://youtu.be/9buc2szkvt4

You hear it before you see it--the sound of massive boots hitting the floor in a practiced marching pattern. Shaking the daze from your head, you soon get a glimpse of the boot’s owner--a massive figure barely able to fit through the front door more shoulder than man!

An honest-to-god giant, and all that entails! Wrapped in a hooded trench coat, the figure body-slams through the remains of the front entrance, then briefly scans the atrium before capturing you in its glowing red eyes!

This is it--the ‘Specialist’!

Idly brushing some flames left over from the detonation off of its shoulders, the figure begins stomping towards you with murderous intent in its eyes!

What do?
>Kick his ass! (What weapon do you use?)
>Run for the front door!
>Retreat! Try and find a way out back!
>Head upstairs--he’s too heavy!
>WRITE-IN!
This is my last update for tonight, folks--will try to check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST, otherwise I'll check in between 3-4PM PST! Thanks for playin!
>>
>>4687162
Oh no! It was supposed to be a good dream...
I had to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich btw.
>>4687423
>Head upstairs--he’s too heavy!
Then we jump out of a window
>>
>>4687445
+1
X Ain't gonna give it to us, express deliver to us. X gonna receive a return to sender notice.
>>
>>4687445
+1
>>
>>4687445
>>4687463
>>4687894
Up the stairs! Writing!
>>
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It takes you maybe half a second tops to decide that no, you’re not going to tangle with the guy they’ve been hinting at for three threads now. With a polite tip of your cap, you scurry off in the opposite direction like a dog trying to escape a bath!

“HE’S HUGE!” Ly exclaims, keeping pace with you! Yea, you saw! Skidding around a corner, you hear the specialist’s massive boots approach at a speed much faster than a brisk walk!

Is he… Is he running?!

Your question is answered almost immediately as the colossus comes crashing through the wall next to you like it was balsa wood! Grabbing for your head, you use your SUPERIOR BONE SPEED to duck underneath his attack and skitter deeper into the school! That’s not fair! Who said he could RUN?!

“Hope we live long enough ta’ find out!” Ly howls, keeping an eye on the monster rapidly gaining on you! “What’s da’ plan, anyways?!”

You’re not sure! Despite your love of Parkour you really don’t have much endurance--you can’t keep jogging forever--your lungs feel like they’re about to collapse!

“Stan, it’s....” Ly frowns, “You’ve been running for a minute, tops.. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

You were an intellectual, not an athlete, okay?!? Ignoring Ly’s obligatory snide response, your eyes light up as you spy a staircase leading upwards--that’s it!

“What’s it!?” Ly asks, eye sockets wide as your stalker approaches!

Upstairs, you answer triumphantly! There’s no way he can follow you up there--he’s too heavy!

“Hey, you’re RIGHT!” Ly shouts, a smile on his face! Of course you are--there’s no way the ground will support him--it’s just not realistic!

You give your ghostly floating sentient skeleton a high-five, taking care not to accidentally unsheathe your bone claws you got from eating magical bone marrow! As you make your way up the first few stairs, you feel a wave of heat rush past your face--whatever it is, you’d better dodge it!

>Roll 1d100 to dodge SOMETHING! I’ll take the best of three rolls!
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4688227
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>4688227
>Roll 1d100 to dodge SOMETHING! I’ll take the best of three rolls!
Lets book it like Webster!
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>4688227
DOOOOODGE
>>
>>4688229
>>4688247
>>4688251
>Highest Roll: 37
Writing!
>>
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You feel the skin on your cheek singe as a ray of red light erupts past your head towards the stairs! Before you can slow down, the heat ray rips through the stairwell, causing it to instantly bubble and melt!

There’s no time to slow down--as the stairs begin to disintegrate, you sprint forwards and leap towards the wall bordering the stairs--time for a little PARKOUR!


“YES!” Ly cheers, pumping a spectral fist! Egged on by your skeleton, you sail through the air for a moment as your pursuer finishes cooking the stairs! Briefly wondering why he didn’t just turn and blast you, your train of thought is interrupted by your foot making contact with the wall!

Placing your hands above where your foot lands, you push off the wall with all fours, launching yourself towards the railing bordering the second story landing!

You fly through the air and look the specialist in his cold, glowing eyes--he’s gonna have to try harder than that! Flipping him the double bird, your leap takes you to the sec-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sense of impending doom--glancing in the direction you’re flying you watch helplessly as you continue on a collision course with a large, framed safety poster falling directly towards your FACE!

You smack into the side of the framed poster like a fly hitting a windshield and the two of you tumble to the floor in a heap! As you struggle under the weight pinning your arms and legs to the ground, panic settles in and sweat rolls down your face as your pursuer stomps in your direction!

>Roll 1d100 to escape, I’ll take the best of three rolls! Escape plan descriptions can only help ya, so feel free to include them!
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4688286
>>
Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>4688286
Try to temporarily blind him with our TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT before darting up the rest of the way to the 2nd floor!
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>4688286
>>
>>4688292
>>4688296
>>4688358
>Highest Roll: 86
Writing!
>>
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You struggle more frantically as the giant approaches, his eyes glowing RED HOT! If he decided to cook you with that laser thing, well, let’s just say you’re gonna have one hell of a sunburn!

“Can you stop acting stupid for a second and get us OUTTA HERE?!” Ly shrieks, causing your body to rattle a bit under the poster! Can HE?! All he ever does is float around and make snippy remarks--can’t he do, like… Bone things?!

“Bone things? The hell are y--hey, wait a minute…”

You feel Ly take control of your body for a second--man, how many updates has it been since he’s done tha--hey, watch the HIPS!

“Just a bit more… There we go!” Ly grunts, moving you around under the poster! As the specialist pushes past some of the melted rubble, you feel an item from your inventory roll into your hand! The ABS? Your HANDGUN? Ooh, maybe the--

Your fingers quickly close around the rough handle of your TACTICAL FLASHLIGHT. Swell.

“Great.” Ly groans, “Maybe he’s an epileptic and we can seize him to death…”

The hell is he talking about eclipses for?! Wait a minute, Ly’s a GENIUS!

“Huh? Well yea, but care to elaborate?” Your skeleton asks as the specialist reaches out for your head!

Stretching your arm as far as it will go, you switch the flashlight to its ANNOYING STROBE MODE, causing its high-intensity beam to flash in your would-be murderer’s red eyes sending him stumbling backwards!

“Good goin’, kid--now we can die a few seconds later!” Ly cheers! Wait, that didn’t sound very genuine…

Your train of thought is derailed as you realise your hand is actually MUCH MORE MANEUVERABLE than you thought! Extending your BONE CLAWS, you tear through the poster like a cat through a sofa, scrambling up the remains of the melted stairway! You don’t bother to check if your attacker’s following--you just run down the hall as fast as you can!

“Where to, cupcake?!” Ly asks as you scurry past a blur of classrooms and lockers!

You don’t know--all of the windows in the hallway are barricaded too! You could probably cut them up, but you need time! As your mind races to come up with a solution, you come across the answer in the form of a door!

>Quick, into the HOME ECONOMICS ROOM!
>Quick, into the AP US HISTORY ROOM!
>Quick, into the DEBATE CLUB ROOM!
>Quick, into the JANITOR’S CLOSET!
>>
>>4688415
>>Quick, into the HOME ECONOMICS ROOM!
>>
>>4688415
>Quick, into the DEBATE CLUB ROOM!
We will simply defeat the invincible pursuer type enemy with facts and logic
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4688443 -- 1
>>4688458 -- 2
Looks like it's up to Lady Fortune to figure this one out--will write the result!
>>
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The HOME EC Room--of course! Slipping through the door and shutting it behind you, you find yourself adrift in a sea of cheap kitchen islands and stools--each section punctuated with a small gas stove and sink! Along the wall on the way to the teacher’s desk sit several cupboards, utensil racks, and a trio of refrigerators.

“Makes ya’ nostalgic, don’t it?” Ly remarks, taking it all in! You nod--if you had a nickel for every pastry you swiped from other groups in this class, well… You wouldn’t a janitor right now, that’s for damn sure!

“Take a look over there!” Ly remarks, pointing to the other side of the room. A few windows sit across the way from you, each equipped with welded-on bars and what appears to be bullet-proof glass!

“Jeez,” Ly remarks, “Rocky’s boys really locked dis’ place down!”

Wait, what? No, those have been there since before you were even a student here--the school put those up because kids would always try to escape through them. Doesn’t he remember finals week?

“Dat’ explains da’ suicide nets…” Ly murmurs, nodding sagely to himself. In any case, those things are built to last--you can’t exactly chop one open by saying ‘please’!

“Well what are we waitin’ for?!” Ly hisses, “Let’s do it!”

As you contemplate which window looks the weakest, you hear the sound of your biggest fan’s footsteps approaching! Whether they’re below, above, or on the same level as you remains to be seen, but it begs the question--should you prepare?

>BARRICADE the doors! It’ll give you time to work!
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place’ll go up like a fireworks factory!
>Search the room for LOOT!
>No way, let’s just chop the window and get the HELL OUT.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4688608
>WRITE-IN
Listen, we've played enough Survival Horror games to know what to do here- we need to open a cabinet or an oven and *hide*!

Unless he already saw us go in here, in which case I'd instead vote
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place'll go up like a fireworks factory!
>>
>>4688626
Wait scratch that, I forgot he always knows where we are. Let's puncture those gas canisters!
>>
>>4688608
>PUNCTURE all of the gas canisters! This place’ll go up like a fireworks factory!
Boom Boom shake the Room
>>
>>4688626
>>4688632
Just to clarify, you would puncture them and THEN start working on the windows. If you'd like to just puncture the canisters and blow a hole open in the school, feel free to let me know!
>>
Errrr, so that you can blow it up as you escape. Apologies for the double post--been feeling out of it tonight!
>>
>>4688642
You're good!

I figure we're
>Puncturing Canisters
>Cutting open window
>Hold ourselves in the window frame until invincible pursuer enemy arrives
>"Hasta la Vista, baby" toss ignited lighter into room and jump out of window proper
>>
>>4688626
>>4688632
ProPANE proPAAAAAAAANE!

Writing!
>>
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Yes Ly, let’s ‘do’ it, you say, winking to no one in particular. Your skeleton’s astral projection looks at you like you just spoke a foreign language, then acquiesces with a simple “Okay!”

You hear the sound of boots stomping outside as you begin your Dark Project--with luck you’ll have everything ready to go before he tracks you down! Flitting from stove to stove like a bee pollinating flowers, you dutifully punch a tiny hole in each station’s gas tank with a satisfying HISS!

“Should we be doin’ dis’ when all da’ windows are closed?” Ly asks, peering over your shoulder.

Yes, that’s the whole point, dingaling! If the doors or windows are opened then all of the flammable gas will escape--you’re about to send this mutant a message he’ll never forget!

“Okay, but are you gonna be okay inhalin’ all dis’ stuff?”

What is he, a safety inspector? You were wrong about the steam, you get it--but GAS? It lights barbecues--big deal!

Finishing up on the last tank, you ignore your blurry vision and the growing pounding sensation in your head and make your way to the windows--strong though they may seem, you wager they’re not exactly ‘BONE CLAW-PROOF’!

“Just hurry up, cupcake!” Ly hisses, “We gotta track down Art and Syb!”

You’re working on it! As you examine the bars on the windows, you hear a loud CRASH outside in the hallway--you hope he just stubbed his toe or something!

“Put some pep in yer’ step, Stan!” Ly whispers!

You’ve got it covered--it’s only a matter of TIME!

>Roll 1d100 to chop this window up quickly--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Gonna call it here for tonight--been feeling odd since I got off of work. Will check in tomorrow around 9-10AM PST at the earliest, otherwise we'll resume around the usual 3-4PST. Thanks for playin'!
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4688669
>Roll 1d100 to chop this window up quickly--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls!
Issa odd night, take it easy Bones

Now Stanley, dont take it easily right now. Take this very hard and serious for once.
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>4688669
Take care of yourself DemBones, and thanks for running!
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

>>4688669
Thanks for running! Get some rest man.
>>
>>4688676
>>4688702
>>4688727
>Highest Roll: 47
Thanks, all--I think I've got time for a quick update now, but the rest will come around 3-4PST!

Now let's write about how badly Stan fucked up!
>>
Biting your tongue in concentration, you get to work carving the bars from the window you’ve deemed the wussiest.

“Good thing they weren’t countin’ on BONE CLAWS, huh?” Ly remarks, a wry grin on his face. Don’t be so sure--this crap is TOUGH! Granted, your claws are slicing through, but getting one through a bar is akin to cutting a steak with a SPOON or something!

Working on it for several precious seconds, your claws break on through to the other side of one end of a bar--only a few more to go!

“Can’t you just… You know, squeeze through?” Ly asks, measuring the gaps in the bars with his astral hands. Not with this fresh bod, you can’t, you reply, licking a finger and touching your hip with an appropriate hissing sound effect. Besides, you’re almost done here--a bar or two oughta be enough!

“Well hurry up, will ya?” Ly whispers, “I can barely hear tall, dark an’ deadly’s boots anymore!”

And you can barely hear yourself think, so can it!

The upper part of the window bar takes a bit longer, mainly due to you being slightly vertically-challenged. As you saw towards the center with your claw, you hit a snag--damn it, you hate when this happens! Forcing your way through, you adopt a triumphant grin as the bar comes loose!

And subsequently tumbles to the floor with a loud series of CLANGS.

“Da’ hell are you doin’?!” Ly howls, poking your chest with a spectral phalange! You thought he was holding it steady!

“I’m a friggin’ ASTRAL PROJECTION! I CAN’T HOLD JACK SHI-”

You and your skeleton pause your argument for a second as you hear the faint sound of boot steps below you. Just as you crane your ear to listen more, they stop!

“Stan…” Ly begins, unease in his voice, “I think we should leave. Right now.”

Glancing at the tiny opening in the bars and the reinforced window glass, a sense of unease builds up in your stomach. Thankfully that unease is replaced when you feel the temperature growing at your feet and notice the floor beginning to glow orange!

Now you just feel panic, and a LOT of it!

>Roll 1d100 to bust through the window before the situation HEATS UP any further! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls--strats for busting the window open can only help your chances! I’ll check back in around 3/4PM PST!
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>4689224
>>Roll 1d100 to bust through the window before the situation HEATS UP any further! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls--strats for busting the window open can only help your chances! I’ll check back in around 3/4PM PST!


Shit shit shit, lets uhhhh. Tuck and fuckin roll. Lets hope the dice gods stop bareback screwing us so hard this time.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>4689224
break it open with our CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>4689224
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>>
>>4689229
>>4689232
>>4689243
>Highest Roll: 65
Guess who has a little time for an updaaaaaaaaate? Writing!
>>
File: gameover1.png (29 KB, 640x295)
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No time for subtlety! Like the hero of a Western Flick you quickdraw your trusty CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION and aim it at the window!

Open SESAME!

“Wait, what about the ga-”

Too late. Pulling the trigger causes the room to erupt in a bright flash of light, followed by the most intense pain you’ve ever felt!

Luckily it only lasts for a moment…

By the time the flames die down there’s barely enough of you left to fill a contact lens case.

GAME OVER! Score: 0 out of 500 Points.
Restore
Restart
Quit

Thanks so much for playing BONES QUEST! Guess I'll see you in the next one!
>>
>>4689429
>Restore
Well.... Shit.
>>
File: specialist2.png (719 KB, 800x600)
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>>4689429
I keed, I keed. Stan won't die that easily. Her pals, on the other hand...

Wait a minute, they rolled a 65, you say? Shit, alright…

Ahem… Too late. Pulling the trigger causes the room to erupt in a bright flash of light, followed by the most intense pain you’ve ever felt!

Luckily it only lasts for a moment….

You feel a strange sense of weightlessness as the force of the explosion hurls you through the reinforced glass and through the air! Flying through the heavens like a home run ball, you take a moment to ignore the fact that your legs are on fire and revel in the miracle of flight!

You’re flying, Ly! You’re flying!

Your trusty skeleton takes control of your head and neck for a moment, directing your attention to the rapidly-approaching pavement below.

“We’re dying, Stan! We’re dying!”

As you prepare for impact, you close your eyes and briefly go over all of the cool stuff you’re gonna miss out on now that you’re dying at 20! Drinking legally, travelling, going to college, your first t--

Your abridged introspection is interrupted as you land face-first with a THUD onto…

Wait a minute, since when is concrete this plush?

Opening your eyes, you realize you’re lying on the charred remains of a soft green sofa--a trail of embers leading from where it burst out of the building to your landing zone!

“Da’ hell is dis’ doin’ here?” Ly asks, almost sounding disappointed! It takes you a moment, but you quickly recognize it as the modeling couch from the art room! On one hand, hooray for being alive, but on the other…

They definitely had nude models come in before.

Ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks, you pat the few flames still flickering on your pant legs and survey your surroundings--looks like you were blown to the back parking lot!

A few cars, scooters, and even a bicycle sit crooked in the parking spots--most likely belonging to faculty. Further back sits the Garage--a veritable mad science lab for car geeks. Past all of those, however, sits a large chain-link fence, an electric gate, and salvation waiting beyond!

“Dat’ was a close one!” Ly sighs, “Let’s get outta here before anyone else comes to-”

You and Ly pause your conversation as your ears pick up a symphony of groaning metal and crumbling masonry behind you. Looking back you see something you kinda expected, but really, really, really didn’t want--your stalker emerges from the burning, crumbling remains of the school, grim resolve in his glowing, hellish eyes!

“Oh dear, is dat’ da’ time?” Ly whimpers, glancing at an imaginary watch, “We gotta scoot!”

Where to?
>Snag some WHEELS (What do you grab?)
>Head for the GARAGE--maybe you can find something useful in there!
>Make a break for the FENCE--you can lose him outside of school!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689433
>Make a break for the FENCE--you can lose him outside of school!
We are way better suited to forest combat than he is, BONE LEGS plus BONE CLAWS! mean we can go full squirrel mode. And that ribcage is gonna help us from whatever shots we do take.
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS (What do you grab?)
Let's get a SCOOTER- we already know Stan can't handle a car without Ly's help. Besides helping us escape, having some wheels in the future could be useful for getting around quicker. Also, you can do SICK TRICKS on a scooter
>>
Got a meeting in a little bit, but I should be back around the earlier-mentioned 3-4PM PST. See you all then--hopefully the tie will be broken by then!
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS
A scooter, why not.
>>
>>4689433
>Snag some WHEELS, namely a scooter.

https://youtu.be/38QExVxxIoo
STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN
>>
>>4689435
>BOOK IT!

>>4689439
>>4689489
>>4689548
>Catch a Riiiiiiiiide

Sorry folks, meeting went a lot later than I anticipated! Writing!
>>
File: Spoiler Image (557 KB, 800x600)
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Hell nah--you’ve run enough for one day, thanks! Scampering deeper into the parking lot, you try your best to ignore the homicidal freak trailing behind you and search for an appropriate ride.

“You really think we gonna find somethin’?” Ly asks, helping you scan the lot! You really think! If this guy chasing you can walk through concrete like tissue paper and can melt staircases, your best bet is to put a lot of distance between you and him. At least until you can turn the tables, that is!

“Somethin’ tells me dat’s gonna take a while…” Ly whines. “Hey, what about DAT?!

Pointing a few feet away, you follow Ly’s finger and lay eyes on…

Well, it’s certainly a vehicle. A hideously pink eyesore with tassels, a rainbow decal above the wheel, and the words ‘Queen Bitch’ emblazoned on the front, but a vehicle nonetheless…

Oh god, the helmet even has cat ears...

“Hurry up, we gotta get it started!”

Is he kidding? You can’t drive this! What about that one over there? That one looks good!

“Half of these got a breathalyzer in the ignition port, cupcake--these belong to school staff, remember?”

You huff--maybe he’s right. In any case, you don’t seem to have much time--Tillamook or whatever his name is is gaining on you!

>No dice, man--let’s FIND ANOTHER ONE.
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
>Rip it open and fiddle with the wires to hotwire it!
>Maybe an ITEM will help start it?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689779
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
A ride worthy of us, also every now and then you remind me that we both live nearby. Tillamook is gonna crush us if we don't cheese it.
>>
>>4689779
>Fine, let’s SEARCH for some KEYS.
>>
>>4689783
You'd cheddar believe it.

>>4689783
>>4689793
>Keys, please!

Writing!
>>
File: keysplease.jpg (271 KB, 1024x580)
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You don’t have time to argue--besides, what are the odds that you’re actually going to find keys for this monstrosity? At least if you die here it’ll be Ly’s fault. Packing all of your attitude into a fully-charged sigh, you get to work and crouch alongside the scooter.

Despite appearances it looks pretty normal--exhaust pipes, a little storage box behind the seat, wheels, that disgusting helmet...

If there even ARE keys on this thing, where the hell would they be?

>Roll 1d100 to crack the case and find some keys! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Don’t forget to include where you wanna look!
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>4689826
check the storage box, thats where most people would put their keys.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4689826
>Roll 1d100 to crack the case and find some keys! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Don’t forget to include where you wanna look!
We probably got it, but lets check the undercarriage as well
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>4689826
>>
>>4689828
>>4689830
>>4689846
>Highest Roll: 88

Writing!
>>
File: huh.png (511 KB, 800x600)
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A frown forms on your face--if you were gonna store keys to a scooter anywhere, wouldn’t it be smart to leave ‘em in the storage box?

“Why would you leave the keys to your scooter IN the scooter?” Ly replies. “That’s SUPER stupid--just take ‘em wit’ ya!”

No, you’re not losing THIS argument! Just think about it--if you left your keys inside the box, you’d never lose ‘em! All you’d have to do is pop it open, plug ‘em in, and go!

“That just means everyone could do that! If you don’t lock da’ box den’ any jamoke can walk up and take it! Sure, it’d be great for us right now if it were possible, but it ain’t--no one’s dat’ dumb!”

Oh yea? Watch THIS. Reaching for the box lid, you give Ly a smug grin as you pull on the lid.

Hold on, is there a latch or something? One sec.

Man, this is reallystuck! Yanking on the lid with two hands, you soon come to realize that maybe people aren’t as stupid as you thought…

“HEH.” Ly chuckles, arms crossed. “Better try somewhere else, cupcake. Hurry up, too, because you-know-who’s comin’.”

Unable to let it go, you extend your BONE CLAWS in rage and slice open the lid’s handle, causing it to fly open! Peering inside, you and Ly find a PACK OF TISSUES, some CLOVE CIGARETTES, and a MENU for Andre’s Steakhouse!

As you collect the items, you feel a faint jingle from inside the box. Peering in, you find a UNICORN KEYRING with a SCOOTER KEY attached! Score!

You and Ly pause for a moment to relish in your good fortune!

“Hey, wait a minute…” Ly begins, “How did they LOCK da’ KEY in there?”

You blink a few times as you consider the possibilities. Perhaps this thing belongs to you from the future? Maybe the scooter is alive and wants you to ride it? The mind boggles....

“Let’s think about it later--we gotta go!”

Ly points in the direction of your stalker--the behemoth now only a few feet away! Hopping onto the scooter, you pop the key in the ignition and crank it!

>Roll 1d100 to start the engine before the killer gets you! Hey, it’s just like that one movie! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls, but I also have another burning question:

DO YOU WEAR THE KITTY HELMET??
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4689893
yes
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4689893
Yeah, and we wear it well
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>4689893
Yeh
>>
>>4689898
>>4689904
>>4689939
>Highest roll: 60

Writing!
>>
File: stanhelmet.png (114 KB, 400x600)
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Turning the key in the ignition, you sputter in disbelief as the scooter fails to start! Come on, not NOW!

“Give it a rest and try again! You’ll flood da’ engine!”

Growling, you turn the key back, then try once more--still nothing! Glancing in the direction of your pursuer you can see his eyes lighting up--you know what that means!

“One more, Stan! You got ‘dis!”

With a determined snarl, you bring the key back one more time, this time jiggling it a bit before turning it!

The engine whines…

It sputters…

AND IT STARTS! You and Ly laugh excitedly as you step on the gas a tiny bit a--

Holy CRAP this thing is FAST!

Darting out of the way of Tollhouse’s laser, you take your hand off the throttle and bring the scooter to a stop!

“Da’ hell are ya’ doin’?!” Ly howls, glaring at you indignantly! Taking a deep breath, you reach into your inventory and fish out… THE KITTY HELMET.

“Stan… You… You don’t gotta…” Ly pleads, staring at you sympathetically. “All dat’ ‘wear a helmet’ crap? It’s for da’ birds!”

Sorry, Ly, you begin, holding the helmet aloft, but you made a promise to a very special someone that you’d alwayswear a helmet…

“Ta’ who?” Ly asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t remember anyone telling ya’ ta’ wear a helmet… In fact ‘dat might explain a few things…”

You slip the helmet over your head--it fits like a glove.

You promised Sally Safety: The Safety Squirrel.

“Stan, dat’ was just someone on TV in a costume...” Too late--it’s on and you’re ready to RIDE. Ly shrugs, then hops back into your body.

“Alright, I guess now’s a good a time as any for you ta’ start worryin’ about your head…”

Revving the throttle, you quickly gauge your choices as the specialist approaches--what’s your escape plan?!

>Crash through the back gate!
>Circle around to the front!
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
You know we always wanted too.
>>
>>4689969
>>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY
>>
>>4689969
>THROUGH THE SCHOOL, BABY.
As if there was any other way.
>>
>>4689985
>>4690004
>>4690007
>>4690009
I think I can see where we're leaning, here. Writing!
>>
File: escape.gif (1.32 MB, 327x251)
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Gunning the throttle, you dart past Tallman’s bulk and start doing circles around the parking lot.

“Where we goin’, anyways?” Ly shouts over the scooter’s engine! The back gate is out, of course--you’re pretty great, hell, you might even call yourself ‘sensational’, but no amount of coolness is gonna let you crash through there. Granted, you could probably slice it with your claws, but that would be ignoring the biggest thing here.

“... Which is?”

Ly, you begin, drumming your fingers on the handlebars as you duck below another laser blast, what is the most IMPORTANT part of Parkour?

“Oh, this again… Uh… Not breakin’ your neck?”

Close. Finishing your loops around the lot, you skid to a halt facing Tarbaby and the hole leading into the still-burning school. The most important part of Parkour, you explain, is getting from one place to another in the FASTEST and most EFFICIENT way possible!

Ly quickly registers what you’re suggesting and proceeds to take a page from Art’s book and start sweating.

“Stan, it’s on FIRE. It’s CRUMBLING.”

Yea, it’s dangerous all right--so are horses, but we still use them!

“Alright. Let's do dis'.”

NOW he's getting in the spirit of things!

You pull back on the throttle and rocket forward, darting past Trolltoll one last time and into the growing inferno you once called High School!

“Gotta admit, you can sorta handle dis’ scooter!” Ly remarks as you roll into the hallway where you once saw Dreamboat Derek WAVE to you! “Don’t remember us learnin’ how ta’ drive onna’ dese’, though!”

You nod, trying to ignore the stomping of heavy boots behind you. Yea, you’ve never really been on one before. Good time to learn though, right?!

The reality of the situation sinks into Ly’s mind and you see his projection wither a bit.

“...Tell ya what--why don’t I scout ahead and warn ya if some obstacles are comin’ up?”

See, he CAN be useful! You don’t need him for the stuff dead ahead, though--you see that just fine! A sharp turn approaches with bits of burning debris falling from the ceiling! Looks like Tallcan made a shortcut through a few walls, though--which way should you go?

>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
>The SAFEST route--let's slow down at that corner!
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4690036
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
We said the *fastest*, most efficient way possible. This is parkour, not baby hour!
>>
>>4690036
>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
The shortcut will have debris on the floor, so it's not really the fastest route.
>>
Gonna hit the sack for tonight--will check in around 3-4PM PST tomorrow and update then. Thanks for participating today and have a good one tomorrow!
>>
>>4690036
>The longer, safer (but not totally safe) route!
Debris makes for a poor driving surface, but we are still being chased. A middle ground should suffice.
>>
>>4690079
>The shortcut! Through the holes!
the dice can't keep screwing us every vote!
>>
>>4690036
>>The shortcut! Through the holes!
>>
>>4690079
>>4690411
>>4690698
>SHORTCUUUUUUUT

>>4690098
>>4690294
>SORTA-SAFER ROUTEEEE

Writing!
>>
File: shortcut.gif (3.05 MB, 480x270)
3.05 MB
3.05 MB GIF
https://youtu.be/jcupHBak2vU

As the corner rapidly approaches, you swerve to the left to prepare for the sharp right turn!

“You’re turnin’ too soon, cupcake…” Ly mutters, shooting a worried glance between your scooter and the end of the hallway.

He can’t see it through the helmet, but you frown at him anyways! What did you JUST say, Ly? What did you JUST. SAY?!

“.... I can be useful?”

You’ll say it again this time TOGETHER---FASTEST and MOST EFFICIENT! To his credit, your skeleton recites the first word, then freezes when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Stan, dat’s WAY too narrow!”

You know--that’s why it’s such a good plan! If you can pull this off you’ll have a huge lead on Toblerone!

“O-okay, just…” Ly sputters, staring at the approaching shortcut through the wall, “Be right back!”

Your skeleton soars through the walls ahead of you as you approach your turn! Swooping back with breakneck speed, Ly pops back into your body to give you the report!

“It goes through da’ bathrooms and ends in da’ main foyer, but careful--there’s debris EVERYWHERE and it curves!”

Not a problem--you’ve got a helmet! Patting the ears for good luck, you gun the throttle and skid towards the shortcut so kindly provided by your pursuer--you’ll have to thank him after this assuming you survive!

>Roll 1d100 to not eat shit--I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. By the way, Stan’s never rode a fucking scooter before, so feel free to write some tips in along with your rolls--I’m sure she’ll appreciate it!
>>
Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>4690911
Pop a wheelie
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>4690911
>>
>>4690932
>>4690994
>Highest Roll: 96

Well then! Writing!
>>
File: fruitcaaaart.jpg (1.58 MB, 2342x3075)
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As you careen towards the hole in the wall like a rogue firework, you rack your mind for anything that could help you in this new and exciting activity you’re engaging in!

You recall that your pal Gus drives a bike around when delivering pizzas, sure, but he never really took the time to show you any cool tips with it! Every time you asked he would just give you ‘the look’!

You can see the veritable OBSTACLE course inside of the hole as you prepare to thread the ‘needle’--seems like Tollbooth deliberately tore through here in case you doubled back--DAMN HE’S GOOD!

As you contemplate your route through, an idea sparks to life in your head:

Wheelies. Something tells you they help you control the scooter better, or something. Not one to argue with your subconscious, you lean back and lift the front wheel off of the ground! Hey, you think you’re going faster!

“Oh CHRIST, get ready ta’ veer right!” Ly whines as you zoom through the ruined bathroom! Zigzagging between the toppled stall doors like a skier in a slalom, you rocket through the shortcut without sacrificing any speed at all!

Blasting through the other hole, you skid to the right and just narrowly duck under a burning section of the floor hanging from above--man, that fire’s really spreading!

“Look out!”

In classic slasher movie fashion the captain of your fan club comes CRASHING through the wall to your right--guess he just made another shortcut! In his arms he carries a wooden cart stocked to the brim with apples, plums, and other pieces of produce, the words Rocky’s Gang Agricultral Klub painted on the side! Gritting your teeth, you glance forward towards the front door--you can make it!

“FRUIIIIIIT CAAAAAAAARRRRTTT!” Ly shrieks as the colossus chucks the whole thing your way! You can’t just ignore it--what do you do?!

>SHOOT it! It works in those arcade games!
>OUTRUN it! You’re faster!
>SLICE IT! You’ve got BONE CLAWS!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691032
>SHOOT it! It works in those arcade games!
>>
>>4691039
Oh shoot! Writing!
>>
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You haven’t let anything get in your way yet, and you certainly aren’t gonna stop NOW! Wheelie-ing like a bat outta’ Hell towards the remains of the school’s front entrance, you keep one hand on the throttle to hold things steady as you snag your CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION from your inventory!

Aiming the muzzle at the cart soaring towards you, you take a deep breath, squeeze the trigger, and prepare to blow it to the Big Farmer’s Market in the sky!

>Roll 1d100 to blast it--I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4691128
>>
>>4691128
>Roll 1d100 to blast it--I’ll take the best of 3!
I dont know about you, but I'm having a BLAST!
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>4691128
I was a dumbass and forgot my roll.
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>4691128
>>
>>4691138
Look at him! Look at him and LAUGH!

>>4691132
>>4691138
>>4691140
>Highest Roll: 81!

Writing!
>>
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You don’t know about Ly, but you’re having a BLAST!

Ly’s groan is drowned out by the sound of thunder roaring out from the shotgun barrel! Like a grim party popper the shell bursts into shrapnel and tears through the oncoming cart creating a cornucopia of confetti in the air! Some of the buckshot even impacts into Teapot’s heavy coat before he brushes them off like dandelion spores!

That ain’t your concern, though--at least not right now. You feel a burning sensation on your neck as you face forward, but it’s too late!

Your steed carries you through the school entrance just as you feel another laser rip through the remains of the door! Whatever your fan hit causes the entire front of the school to collapse in a burning heap behind you as you wheelie out the door and over the front steps!

As you make your descent towards the ground, your skeleton’s astral projection emerges from your body wide-eyed and bewildered.

“Stan… Dat’... Dat’ was..”

You give him a smug grin through your KITTY HELMET and extend a fist his way.

Hell yea?

“HELL YEA!”

Your tires land on the pavement with a triumphant squeal as you and Ly leave your alma mater burning and crumbling behind you. Talk about cathartic!

“I’d call it ‘arson’, but what da’ hell.” Ly shrugs as you skid around the corner onto the dilapidated streets. Taking one last look at your High School, you watch as a tall, dark shape emerges from the collapsing masonry, two red lights following you all the way down the street…
--------------------------------------------------------------
Several minutes later, the faintest hint of sunlight begins to peek in through the cloudy night sky--morning’s approaching! As you maneuver between abandoned cars and cracked roads, you pause for a moment to check the napkin Art gave you before running off.

“Are we there yet?” Ly whines. You shrug--probably? Maybe about half way.

“Good, da’ sooner we link up da’ better! You know where we’re headed?”
You nod again--it looks a lot cooler now that you have a helmet! Gotta admit, though, you weren’t expecting Art to have you meet up at…

>’I Hate Mondays’ Bar & Grille
>’Miami Ice’ Skating Rink
>’Fun Guy’s’ Family Restaurant!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691208
>WRITE-IN
The old arcade!
>>
>>4691208
>’Miami Ice’ Skating Rink
Lets cool this situation down a bit
>>
>>4691212
>>4691208
+1
>>
>>4691212
>>4691249
>The old arcade!

>>4691213
>Ice Rink!

Writing!
>>
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Token Tower.... You almost forgot it existed. Rolling up on your FRESH RIDE in front of a large, black building plastered with heroes and monsters from arcade cabinet art. Bomber Billy, Captain Clobber, those weird alien bug things from Space Terror--they’re all there: alive but faded from years of neglect and exposure to the elements. A plexiglass crystal tower juts out of the roof above the entrance, the words Token Tower emblazoned in faded neon lights.

You sigh. This wasn’t exactly your haunt--you and your bro were boardwalk fans. Tower, though… You could definitely do worse. A few years ago this place would keep the whole damn neighborhood up, especially over the weekend when the crowds extended out the doors. If you didn’t have a big friend to cling to as they pushed their way inside, you were better off stayin’ home. Good times....

“Shall we?” Ly asks eagerly. You nod--maybe you can get Art to get the cabinets running or something! Parking your scooter in the back parking lot, you kill the engine and remove the KITTY HELMET.

As you put everything back where you found it (with the exception of the keys, which you keep), you affectionately run your hand over the side of the scooter. She did good, damn it.

“It’d be a waste ta’ get rid of her now…” Ly agrees, looking at the scooter with pride. Giving your stallion one last pat, you make your way to the back entrance of the arcade and try the door.

Locked.

“...Should we knock, or?” Ly asks, poking his head through the door. Good question!
>Knock! It’s only polite!
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>Quietly cut the lock.
>KICK THE DOOR DOWN
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4691375
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
We didn't strike that dubious deal for nothing, come on and earn your rent Ly.
>>
Getting a bit tired, so I think I'll call it here for today. Should have a lot of free time tomorrow, though, so expect an update around 9-10AM PST! Thanks again for playing and see you tomorrow!
>>
>>4691375
>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>>
>>4691375
>>Send Ly to scout ahead--it could be a trap!
>>
>>4691394
>>4691525
>>4691547
Lyve it to him! Writing!
>>
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As you prepare to knock on the door, an unnerving thought starts pushing the rusty gears in your head… What if… No…

“What’s up, cupcake?” Ly asks, “You uh… You thinkin again?”
Yes--it’s a curse, Ly. It’s a curse to be at 100% 24/7! Your skeleton responds with an eye roll that would give a teenager a run for their money.

“Yea, must be rough. Penny for your thoughts?”

What if, and this is just you spectating here, what if Art and Syb aren’t here?! Ly’s eye sockets widen.

“What are you talkin’ about, kid?”

Exactly what you’re saying: what if Art gave you a FAKE address and is leading you into a TRAP?!

“Okay, I’ll bite--why would he do that, exactly?” Ly asks, rubbing his temples.

Simple--he wants you out of the picture, you answer, beginning to pace back and forth. He KNOWS that once he and Sybil get married and have eight beautiful kids (with Sybil’s looks, of course) you’ll be around the house 24/7 playing ‘Cool Aunt Stan’--but what if there was no Stan? What if she perished in an UNFORTUNATE ARCADE ACCIDENT?

“Sta-”

The answer is simple, Ly--NO Stan plus ONE Art plus ONE Sybil equals CATASTROPHE! You shake your head mournfully as it all fits together--you expected something like this to happen, but not this soon--maybe after their fifth or sixth kid, tops. Art’s a real cold-blooded freak, huh Ly?

Your skeleton takes a deep breath like a teacher about to explain why something is incorrect.

“Stan, I… Look, I’m just gonna pretend ya’ didn’t just say all dat’ because I was really impressed by what you did back there on da’ scooter.”

D’aww, shucks, you giggle, bashfully scratching the back of your head.

“But I know reason an’ basic logic don’t work on ya’, so I’ll just pivot: why don’t I scout things out for ya’ ta’ put your mind at ease, eh?”

You stroke an imaginary beard as you contemplate Ly’s idea. Yes… yes, that will do just fine. If Art’s in there he won’t be able to see Ly, and your skeleton is much better equipped for locating traps. You can already tell there’s gonna be a LOT of them--Art’s a sicko, after all.

“Fantastic. Just sit tight an’ I’ll report back in a jiff.”

Before you can warn him about the possibility of GHOST TRAPS, your skeleton sinks through the pavement and enters the arcade like some sort of SHARK GHOST.

You’ll uh… You’ll just wait here!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4692104
https://youtu.be/bGUYW9EfIsQ
Your name is Ly--you’re a loose-cannon detective who gets da’ job done, no matter what, even if da’ dame you’re workin’ for is more mixed up than a banana smoothie. Da’ job was simple--reconnoiter da’ old arcade for any sign of your old pals Sybil and Art. They were supposed ta’ meet ya’ here after things got too hot at da’ school, but something’s got your client paranoid. Again. Sometimes you wonder if she’s got a quota ta’ hit or somethin’, but dat’ kinda thinkin’ is above your paygrade--best ta’ just grin and nod.

So here you are casein’ da’ joint for traps, bad guys, and anything dat’ might (god forbid) prove Stan right. You know she’ll never let you live it down if she’s correct, so you decide ta’ play dis’ thorough--gliding through da’ floor like a manta ray, you enter the back entrance with no problem--so far, so good. If memory serves, dis’ joint has a few BATHROOMS, a management OFFICE, the MAIN ARCADE FLOOR, and a small DININ’ AREA that serves only da’ finest cuisine da’ freezer can provide.

If you were Art and Syb, where would YOU hide?
>Check da ARCADE!
>Check da BATHROOMS!
>Check da OFFICE!
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4692109
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
That's where Colonel Mustard always committed his crimes!

Also I love the drawings and edits so much lmao they're awesome
>>
>>4692109
>Check da ARCADE!
something tells me Art is dorking out
>>
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>>4692113
Thanks--they're basically my silent apology for having no drawing talent of my own. Still amazed that I can sometimes draw Stan!

I'll give it a little longer before doing a tie-breaker: here's some FRESH animation to sweeten the deal! HAPPY FRIDAY
>>
>>4692109
>Check da DININ’ AREA!
They're probably having a romantic dinner and forgetting all about poor Stan!
>>
>>4692113
>>4692281
>Food for thought!

>>4692145
>Nerd shit

Writing!
>>
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You know one thing about meatbags--they love eating. Love it. Your pal Stomach talks to you about it all the time--if he’s not gushing over the last meal Stan ate, he’s complaining about the LACK of food, or booze, or weight... Then Liver, Brain, and Ovaries get involved and suddenly everyone’s moanin’. Point is, humans eat, and you’d bet your bottom phalange that Syb and Art will be there too, no doubt havin’ a candlelit dinner of microwave pizza and flat soda.

The intel Brain provided checks out--making a beeline for where you remember the dining area is, you emerge in a blacklit room with several small glowing tables and stools--the perfect oasis for a bunch of kids lookin’ ta’ recharge after hours of wastin’ quarters an’ playin’ video games.

In da’ back of da’ room there sits a counter barring entrance to a SMALL KITCHEN and FREEZER, a few MICROWAVES (the appliances), and a SODA and SOFT SERVE ICE CREAM machine. Above the counter sits a menu written in sci-fi lettering and glowing an eerie shade of green. You scoff--no milk anywhere. Sure, there’s some dairy in pizza, but you know not to point that out to Stan--you’ve seen what she can do to an XL wit' mushrooms...

It still haunts you.

Ignoring the chills running down your astral spine, you suddenly notice that you aren’t alone in the room! As you expected, Syb and Art sit at a central table--the former’s doll head buried in a notebook, the latter’s head buried in a slice of pepperoni.

“Sho ya shee,” Art mumbles before swallowing, “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Reasonable.” Sybil replies, not looking up from her writing. “But I think you made the right choice splitting us up, Arthur--she’s probably already halfway here, if not here already. Beneath that outer shell of zero impulse control and forethought, Stan’s actually quite capable of surviving on her own!”

The doll looks up from her notebook, a whimsical look on her face. “What I wouldn’t give to run some tests on that magnificent brain of hers… A shame she’s such a light sleeper…”

Hey, they’re talkin’ about Stan! What do?
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>Make yourself KNOWN. No need to sneak around!
>Check ANOTHER room--is dis’ place secure?
>Report BACK TA’ STAN.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
Lets see what these dorks are talking about.
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>>
>>4692329
>Keep EAVESDROPPING! Dis’ is GOLD!
>>
>>4692338
>>4692397
>>4692405
Apologies, an appointment went a little later than I thought it would! Writing!
>>
Aaaaand nevermind--a bit drunk tonight. Will update tomorrow around 10ish PST! Sorry about that!
>>
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You hunker down for some more snoopin’--who knows what dese’ guys think’a Stan?

“Gotta admit, that’s been stumping me.” Art adds, ignoring Sybil’s last statement. “You’ve known her for a while--any ideas as to what makes Stan so…”

“Stan?” Sybil replies, raising a yarn eyebrow at Art, who nods.

“Stan is an anomaly, plain and simple,” the doll replies, staring back down at her notes. “Most of it is pure conjecture on my part, but I attribute her ‘Stan Factor’, to use a made up term, to two main elements--Wild Magic Contamination and Socio-emotional Anxiety.”

Art chews the cheese off of a piece of crust before tossin’ it back on da’ plate.

“Uh… One of those things is not like the other…”

“Indeed. It took me some time to notice--I wasn’t always a student of the arcane arts like I am now--I was thinking more ‘zookeeper’, to be honest.” Sybil closes her notebook with a wave of her arm stump, then glances back at Art.
“So uh… What’s the deal with magical contamination anyways?” Art continues, drumming his fingers on his helmet sitting next to him on the table.

“The ‘deal’,” Sybil begins, tapping her chin with an arm stub, “Is that it’s unpredictable, especially the ‘wild magic’ variety. Masters of the arcane have studied its effects on places, people, and things for generations, but there’s really only one conclusion they’ve come to.”

“Which is?” Art asks, leaning forward, eyes wide.

“That it’s unmeasurable, unpredictable, and uncontrollable. Infinitely powerful, yes, but dangerous as well. Most arcane scholars characterize the use of magic as an exertion of force or change upon the very fabric of reality.”

Sybil pauses to see if Art’s followin’--he makes a strange movement between a nod and a shrug, causing her to continue.

“But unlike physics and chemistry, they’re wielding a force that doesn’t abide by what we accept as law. Magic has no conservation of energy or mass, nor does it follow patterns we can comprehend. In short, wild magic has a myriad of effects, and none of them are easy to predict.”

Concluding her lecture, Syb turns to Art for further questions. The guard is already on another slice of pizza.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693412
“Sho itsch like…” He mumbles, pausing to swallow, “Radioactive waste. In uh… In comic books.”

The doll nods, impressed.

“Excellent analogy, Arthur--on one hand: superpowers!” The doll agrees, lifting an arm stump. “On the other: Lymphoma!” She raises the other. Art blinks.

“So what’s your take on Stan’s superpower?”

The doll furrows its brow. “Well the immediate effect is detectability. Stan’s a walking hotspot of wild magic radiation--it’s how I’m able to track her down so easily. Unfortunately that makes her very easy to find by other magic users as well--that specialist included.”

Art nods. “So she’s a lighthouse. Gotcha.”

Sybil shakes her head. “Yes, but there’s more--though I have no idea what this magical contamination will have on her in the long run, I believe it had a hand in keeping her safe from the lich, AND potentially creating Ly.”

Say WHAT now?!

“I said it might have a hand in creating you, Ly.” the doll continues. Oh, ok-

Art raises an eyebrow as Sybil turns your way, arm stumps on her hips.

“How long were you going to eavesdrop anyways? Please join us.”

Embarrassed, you float into the room and do your best to lean against the table. It uh…. You didn’t mean it!

“No harm done, Ly--I’m glad to see that you and Stan arrived in one piece. Is she in here with you?” The doll asks, cocking her head to the side as Art looks confused.

Yea, you reply, she’s outside. Told me ta’ scope da’ place out first in case uh… There were traps, you say, omitting the part about Art being the mastermind.

“In that case we can talk for a little while longer.” Sybil nods. “Like I was saying, the effects of wild magic manifest in many different ways--it’s possible that the lich jump started a chain reaction resulting in… Well… You, Ly.”

You blink. Is dat’ what happened? The doll shrugs in response.

“It’s pure conjecture on my part, nothing more. There are several elements we haven’t taken into account including Stan’s erm… familiarity with chemicals, cleaning and otherwise, the magical topography of Clearwater… Her dealings with that Fae...” Sybil spits the last part, a sour look on her face.

“And her social stuff, right?” Art adds, causing the doll’s eyes to light up.

“Of course, that too!” Sybil exclaims, clapping her arm stubs together. “In fact, the two go hand-in-hand! Arthur, what do you know about Stanton F. Breckinridge?”

“Absolutely nothing!” The guard replies, almost too quickly.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693414
“Breckinridge is an authority on magical contamination.” Sybil explains, “Well… Was. His experiments with wild magic attracted the attention of some particularly foul extradimensional--well, it doesn’t matter. The point is, he observed several cases of contaminees acting in ways they wouldn’t normally.”

Da’ heck does dat’ mean?

“Exactly what it sounds like, Ly. Out of character behavior, the illusion of ‘choices’ for simple decisions… The sense of ‘losing oneself’. These effects have been noted to increase or decrease based on proximity to magical ley lines, the position of astral bodies, and, most importantly, severe stress.”

“What’s that got to do with Stan?” Art asks idly spinning some crust on his plate. “She doesn’t exactly strike me as the most tightly-wound person.”

“Still waters, Arthur.” Sybil replies, a gleam in her eye. “As you might expect, Stanley doesn’t have many friends. Loving, albeit preoccupied parents, no romantic partners unless she’s been very discreet…”

Hahahah, no partners! You can confirm dat’!

“Pity.” Sybil replies.

“Oooh! Oooh!” Art hoots, recognition glowing in his eyes, “What about her brother?!”

Sybil nods, a strange look on her face. “Yes… Her brother. That’s a mystery that still eludes me to this day.”

Why though, you ask. Didn’t she ever meet him?

“I did, and that’s not the point.” Sybil fires back. “Sue Parble was, for all intents and purposes, a fantastic sibling. He was Stan’s anchor, from what I could discern. You can imagine the effect it had when he stopped talking to her.

“So that’s what happened…” Art muses. “Wait, why did they stop talking, again?”

Sybil turns to you.

“It’s embarrassing, but I really don’t know…” The doll explains rubbing the back of her head. “I’ve asked her parents a few times, but they didn’t want to elaborate. From what I can infer, they had a falling out of sorts--sometime around Sue’s wedding.”

You think back to that day, but everythin’ turns up blank! How drunk was dat’ girl?!

“You seem confused, Ly.” Sybil muses, watching your face. “I worry that alcohol was just a cover for whatever happened then. A defense mechanism preventing her from remembering what happened.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to remember?” Art asks. “Wouldn’t that help her feel better, or something?”

“Maybe eventually.” Sybil replies, nodding. “In the short term, though, it might damage her quite a bit. Perhaps permanently. More importantly, I wouldn’t be surprised if whatever transpired had something to do with that magical contamination I mentioned earlier.”

You rub your jawbone. Out of character behavior, huh? The doll nods.

“Precisely. One of several incidents in her life.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693417
“So… What exactly does all of this mean, then?” Art continues, brow furrowed. “Do we just not bring it up?”

“It’s the best idea I have in the short term.” Sybil sighs. “We need Stan at her best if we want to see the end of this. To go back to our previous discussion, Arthur, I wouldn’t take her jabs seriously--psychologically speaking she subconsciously doesn’t want another person close to her to leave her: she probably worries that if you two become close, in the long run it could mean losing you.”

“Losing me meaning…?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Losing contact, death, etc.” The doll mutters. “She’ll come around. Once she likes you Stan is like a dog… Or a very loyal raccoon...” A perplexed look on her face, Sybil directs her attention to you.

“That said, Ly, I’m putting you in charge of her well-being. You’ve been doing an exemplary job so far, so I think it’s high-time we made it official.”

You salute. No problemo!

“And, in the event that she doesn’t survive…” The doll begins,

You won’t let it happen, you say, puffing out your ribcage!

“Oh, no. I was going to ask if you could try to preserve her brain.” Sybil replies, a disconcerting look in her doll eyes. “I may have uses for it…”

“Errr…” Art begins, looking between the doll and where she’s staring, “W-What’s your take on this, Ly? I can’t really hear or see you, but… What do you think is behind all of Stan’s uh… Antics?”

What indeed? You’re kinda da’ resident Stan expert here--what’s YOUR take?
>Wild magic. Gotta be. No way a normal human would be like dat.
>To be fair, Stan’s been around a LOTTA’ chemicals and fumes...
>She’s never really got along wit’ people--my guess is that it’s mostly dat’.
>I think Stan’s like a dog and just does things arbitrarily.
>Someon’s pullin’ da’ strings! Aliens, maybe?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693419
>Wild magic. Gotta be. No way a normal human would be like dat.
A combination of this and plain old kookiness
>>
>>4693419
>She’s never really got along wit’ people--my guess is that it’s mostly dat’.

Also I love that Stan's parents' pranks screwed over her brother in the naming department as well lol
>>
>>4693417
>Sue Parble
A nice double joke. Kudos!

>>4693419
>Mind control from another dimension?
>>
>>4693428
>>4693445
Stan's parents are the true villains of this tale...

>>4693426
>>4693428
>>4693445
Gonna try to mix these all together! Writing!
>>
>>4693483
Was Stan's dad possibly named Tim?
>>
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>>4693488
My notes inform me that her dad's name is Oscar, but I'd say 3/4ths of this quest is written under the influence, so who the hell knows? Dun dun DUUUNNNN

You ponder what you, Sybil, and Art just discussed. It goes without sayin’ dat’ your uh… Partner… Is far from normal, but you tend ta’ take a lot of dat’ for granted--after all, if you listened to every single complaint da’ other organs piled on you 24/7, you’d have lost your mind ages ago!

Nah, Syb’s probably onta’ somethin’ wit’ her ideas. Stan’s a big weirdo when it comes ta’ social interaction, sure, but not dat’ weird! Wit’ everything you’ve seen in the last few days it wouldn’t surprise ya’ if some of Stan’s actions were controlled by someone or someTHING else… Hell, who’s ta’ say she isn’t bein’ mind-controlled by an extra-dimensional being? Or BEINGS?

Sybil relays your thoughts to Art, who scoffs. “What, you mean she’s controlled by multiple beings?! PSSSH. Get real!”

“The truth is stranger than fiction, Arthur.” Sybil says, shooting the guard a sideways glance. “If there is some truth in what Ly says, then I hope the ‘puppeteers’ are merciful…”

“Ten bucks say they get bored and drop it before Part 7.” Art mumbles.

“Come now, be reasonable.” Sybil chides, “7’s far too optimistic. My money’s on Part 6.”

Clearing your nonexistent throat, you take a moment to look around the dining area. What would people have to gain from manipulatin’ Stan?

“You’d better check on Stan, Ly.” Sybil advises, going back to her notebook. “An idle mind is the devil’s playground, as they say…”

“Yea, better grab her before she finds a mineshaft to drop into or something.” Art nods. “We can plan our next move when she’s ready.”

You look back in the direction of where Stan is presumably waitin’--cripes, who knows what she’s been gettin’ into since you left her? Then again… This is a good time to talk shop with the others without her present…

What do?
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>Mind if I SCOUT da’ rest of da’ place first?
>Got a QUESTION for you guys (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
>>
>>4693513
>Lemme grab STAN. Back in a jiff.
Its probably kinda cold out there.
>>
>>4693516
>>4693517
>>4693534
Don't just STAN there! Writing!
>>
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Well, you begin, floatin’ in da’ air, it’s been fun talkin’ behind Stan’s back, but they’re right--she really oughta’ be supervised.

“Yea, wouldn’t want the president of her fan club to show up again.” Art groans, wiping some tomato sauce from his mouth with a napkin. Sybil gives you a pleasant smile and a nod, then returns to her notebook--who knows what’s goin’ on there…

It only takes you a few seconds to swoop through the walls and back to where you left Stan. You gotta say--this ‘ghost mode’ thing has its perks! Emerging through the back door, you politely inform Stan dat’ da’ coast is clear!

Or… You would. If she was here.

https://youtu.be/pT4FY3NrhGg

The back entrance is barren, save for the remains of a vent cover on the ground and some cigarette bu--WAIT A MINUTE!

Panic sets in as you realize what’s happening--Stan LOVES vents! LOVES ‘EM! And who’s to say she didn’t hear you all talkin’ about her just now?!

You burst back into the dining area, panic on your astral face. Sybil looks up from her notes again, a concerned look on her face.

“What is it, Ly? Is something amiss?”

“Stan probably fell down a well or something.” Art snorts. “Or ate poison ivy.”

You scan the ceiling for any evidence of Stan--there’s industrial ducts EVERYWHERE! Stan’s INSIDE, you sputter! She’s in the vents!

“In the ducts?” Sybil replies, glancing uneasily towards the ceiling.

“What, she’s climbing around in them?” Art scoffs. “A man wouldn’t do that.”

This isn’t a man!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4693590
Your name is Stanley Parble, and you saw everything.

EVERYTHING!

Peering through a grille at your dickhead friends, you silently seethe. There they are, acting as if nothing happened--that they’re all innocent!

FOOLS!

They thought they could just leave you outside! Forget about you! Oh, how wrong they were...

You’ll show them, though--you’ll show them what happens when they go behind your back!

No one… And you mean NO ONE, has a PIZZA PARTY WITHOUT YOU!

You smelled it a mile away--the classic Tower Special: Mushrooms, onions, and bits of sausage baked on garlic herb crust! Microwaved to PERFECTION!

Art’s not even eating the crust! The hell is wrong with that freak!? And Ly can’t even eat it--what’s the point?!

Shifting in your perch ever so slightly, a wicked grin forms on your face. Yes… They’ll get what’s coming to them, alright, and they’ll rue the day they left you outside in the cold while they munched on FREE PIZZA.

It’s time to deliver a ‘pizza’ of your own.... Extra COMEUPPANCE, hold the MERCY!

How do you approach your jerkass friends?
>BURST through the vents! Surprise!
>LURE them away from each other--you can scare them INDIVIDUALLY.
>Creep in STEALTHILY--emerge from the shadows!
>Enter CASUALLY. They’ll never know what you saw and it will HAUNT THEM!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4693593
>Creep in STEALTHILY--emerge from the shadows!
Metal Gear Solid: Tactical Pizza Extraction Action
>>
>>4693593
>BURST through the vents! Surprise!
>>
>>4693593
>LURE them away from each other--you can scare them INDIVIDUALLY.
Like a proper horror monster.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>4693598 -- 1
>>4693601 -- 2
>>4693646 -- 3

You guys and your ties... I'm gonna roll for which strat we're going for! I need 3 ROLLS to determine how things go, so feel free to roll away once I post this update!
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Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>4693712
Rolling!
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Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>4693712
Did I hear jump the gun?
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Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4693712
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>>4693721
>>4693726
>>4693768
Oh you’ll get even with them, alright…. You’re gonna scare the PANTS off of them!
https://youtu.be/Nfhy0S93Ivk
And the… Pants.... bones in Ly’s case!

You creep through the vent like a ghost as you hear your companions start to realize the gravity of the situation.

“Can’t you locate her?” Art asks, nervousness creeping into his voice as he looks around the room!

“I know she’s near, but I can’t get a bead on her right now!” Sybil shouts, scanning the room with glowing blue eyes!

“Me neither!” Reports Ly, floating over to where you just were in the vent! SLOPPY! He turns your way for a moment, but too late--you’re merely a shadow!

All of those hours playing Frigid Blades paid off--the ducts above reach into smaller vents in the room below--luckily they haven’t noticed yet with all of the black lights....

“Sh-show yourself, Stan!” Sybil shouts, scanning the corners for movement!

“Yea! G-get out here already!!” Art stutters, his face sweating more than usual.

Three thugs, two armed. This’ll be easy. With a Cheshire grin you quickly and quietly remove the bolts from the wall fastening the vent cover and prepare to strike--the question is, WHO gets the BIGGEST scare?

>Art. That bastard didn’t eat the crust--no mercy for him!
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
>Ly. That RAT. He’s supposed to support you! Besides, doesn’t pizza have calluses or whatever for bones?
>WRITE-IN
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>>4693816
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
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>>4693816
>Sybil. She acts pretty aloof, but you’re confident in your abilities!
>>
>>4693828
>>4693871
Sybil's about to get fukken rekt

Writing
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Sybil. You expected this shit from Art and Ly, but not from HER. She thinks she’s so cool with her magic and goth chic, but you’re about to show EVERYONE who the alpha wolf is around here!

You slip from the vent like a snake and slither towards Sybil’s tiny form as Ly moves on to another section of vents and Art pokes his rifle behind the counter. As you creep closer, you can almost feel the cold air radiating around Syb’s form--good thing she isn’t here in person or you could actually get vaporized. It’s not easy to piss her off, but you remember what happened to her ex--you’re not even sure you should be thinking about it if you want to keep your head…

Anyways, you get to the table with relative ease--to their credit Ly and Art are doing a good job of searching, but they forgot the most important rule of Hide and Seek:

Don’t play with Stan.

Like a shark surfacing to attack a seal, you slowly rise from below, doing your best to ignore the tempting scent of pizza wafting into your nose a few inches away. All in good time, Stan--all in good time…

“Stan, you’ve made your point, now let’s be reasonable and ta--” Sybil begins, but never finishes!

Like a cat grabbing a canary, your arm darts from the shadows, wrapping around the doll’s midsection! Completely taken by surprise, the doll lets out the girliest shriek you’ve heard in… Well… Ever, causing Ly and Art to spin and face you! Regaining her composure, a wide-eyed Sybil covers her mouth and turns to you, panic still evident even on her doll’s face!

“S-st-STAN!” She stutters as the two guys maintain their distance. Narrowing your eyes, you glare at your prey--did she think you wouldn’t notice?!

“I.. I… We-”

Did she think you wouldn’t CARE!?

“Stan, look--” Art begins, not sure whether to put his gun down or not.

You watched it ALL, damn it! After all of these years she thinks she can do that to you? Is she INSANE?!

“Stan, I…” Sybil mutters, the light fading from her eyes. “We didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Too bad, now they’re paying the ultimate prrrrrriiiiiiiice, you growl, letting the word ‘price’ build in your throat! Sybil opens her mouth to say something, but it’s TOO LATE--you’re ending this now!

>CONTD.
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>>4694166
How DARE they leave you out in the cold while they eat pizza, you hiss, sticking your thumb in the direction of the still-steaming Tower Special on the table! Have they no hearts?!

“You… I thought--” Sybil begins, but you cover her mouth with a finger.

Out of all of these idiots SHE’S the one who knows how much you love pizza, and now look--you bet they weren’t even going to leave you a slice!

“Stan, we weren’t--” Ly mutters.

“Yes!” Art exclaims, as if he just realized what was going on--MORON. “I was hungry and I whipped up the pizza--you had that marrow earlier, but I was starving so… Yea.”

You stomach the urge to pounce on Art for a moment and glare at him. Is that SO?

“Yep! And uh… We took it out when we saw Ly, but you weren’t there and we didn’t want it to get cold, so I grabbed a plate!”

It all makes sense--you’d probably want to eat it too if it was gonna get cold…

“So um… Sorry about that! My bad!” Art laughs, scratching the back of his head. Glancing down at the doll in your hand, you raise an eyebrow--is this true?

“Yes… I’m sorry, Stan, but I knew you would never forgive us for wasting pizza and Ly was just about to grab you, but we got caught up talking about how much you love pizza! You know how it goes!” Syb explains, an embarrassed grin on her face.

Well then… Now you feel terrible--you could have killed Art back there!

“Wait, wha”

“Water unda’ da’ bridge, right?” Ly asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “You know we’re always lookin’ out for ya, cupcake!”

Hey, yea! They’re your pals--they’d never do anything to piss you off intentionally! Even ART!

“That’s right…” Art replies, the words forming slowly in his mouth, “We’re pals now, Stan.”

You smile at him. Yep, even if he is a dork. Guess he wasn’t trying to kill you after all, huh?

“Nnnno.” The guard replies, raising an eyebrow your way. Letting Sybil free from your vise grip, you watch as she shakes the residual ‘heebie jeebies’ out and composes herself.

“Rrright. Well then, welcome, Stan. Have some pizza.”

You DO! Guess what--it’s delicious! You even snag the crust Art was too much of a freak to eat.

“Now that we’re all convened, let’s debrief about what’s happened in the past day. Time, it seems, is no longer on our side anymore.” Sybil remarks, looking around the room.

“Stan, you’re the leader of the ‘gang’. You wanna start us off?” Art asks, holstering his rifle and grabbing another slice of ‘zza.

Sure, but what’s first on the agenda?
>Let’s talk about WHERE we’re hitting NEXT.
>Why did we meet HERE? Are we safe?
>How’s everyone DOING?
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
>WRITE-IN
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>>4694170
>Why did we meet HERE? Are we safe?
>>
Gonna play a tabletop with some pals for a while, so I might check in later--otherwise I'll update TOMORROW around 9-10AM PST! Thanks again for playing--you guys are the real heroes!
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>>4694170
>Let’s talk about WHERE we’re hitting NEXT.
Yo Art where are those information places you were talking about?
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
We still have Mr. X chasing us. We bought some time, but he's still heading toward us as we speak.
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?

>>4694527
He feels more like Nemesis to me, given his obvious intelligence and speed. Laser eyes are a new twist though, didn't see that coming, despite the melted deer.
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>>4694170
>Wanna talk about the SPECIALIST?
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>>4694493
>>4694527
>>4694557
>>4694792
Let's talk about our new fan first! Writing!
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Scarfing down another slice of pizza, you nod. First thing’s first--we need to talk about that Tambor guy.

“Talbot?” Sybil asks, raising an eyebrow. Yea, him!

“We didn’t really stick around to study him.” Art explains, hand hovering over another slice of ‘zza. “The bad news is that he doesn’t seem to care about collateral damage--Syb and I watched him take down some greasers who didn’t leave quickly enough…”

Sybil nods. “This leads me to two conclusions: first, this specialist, whoever he is, is intelligent--not just a mindless slave.”

Yea, you noticed. He really knew how to put that noggin to use trying to kill you.

“When Stan an’ I were escapin’, we set a trap in da’ Home Ec room ta’ cover our exit!” Ly chips in, “An’ dat’ freak set our own trap on us! Blew da’ school sky-high!” Your skeleton concludes with an explosion sound for emphasis. Spot on, Ly.

“That leads me to my second conclusion,” Sybil continues, “Which is that this skeleton isn’t like the others.”

You almost fall out of your stool--WHUH-REALLY?! Sybil gives you ‘The Look’ and you quietly apologize.

“We’re looking at an agent of the lich with extraordinary strength, durability, and drive. I think it’s safe to say that Stan’s no longer safe staying in one place for too long.”

Weird, though, you muse, tapping your chin, what about when you were at Sybil’s? Or sleeping in the tree outside of Good Boy? Why track you down now?

“To be fair, the school fight wasn’t exactly a quiet affair.” Sybil replies, “You spent plenty of time in a high-profile place--assuming the specialist is constantly moving, it was probably only a matter of time before you crossed paths.”

“That or Rocky planned for him to show up.” Art mutters, absorbed in thought.

“I’m glad you brought that up.” Sybil remarks, smiling in Art’s direction. “Rocky gave us a few clues--small though they were.”

You snap your finger. She’s RIGHT! He mentioned something about him losing your signal, yea? Sybil nods.

“Exactly. That explains why he didn’t find you in my apartment--I’ve warded it several times over specifically for situations like this. Unless he saw you walk in there, he would probably assume you just disappeared off of the face of the Earth.”

Hey, there we go! You slap the table excitedly as you lean towards Sybil. Let’s ward this place up!

“No.”

>CONTD.
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>>4695020
You feel yourself deflate a bit. Say what?

“I said no.” Sybil replies. “Protective wards take time to set up--something we don’t have in abundance at the moment. Moreover, I wouldn’t be able to do it in this form--I’d have to join you physically.”

“No way.” Art states, shaking his head. “You can do plenty in doll form--no sense in exposing yourself to unnecessary danger.”

“I thought the same thing.” Sybil replies, a conflicted look on her face. “There’s no doubt that my magical abilities would be stronger in person, but it’s true--I’d also be exposing myself to danger. We might not have a choice, however… In any case, we can discuss that later--we need to discuss important things while we still can. What else do you remember Rocky saying, Stan?”

The rusty gears in your head turn as you hearken back to the fight. You remember it like it was yesterday… Yesterday…. Ye-

“NO!” Ly barks, sending a pain through your skull! “NO MORE FLASHBACKS, DAMN IT!”

Fine, jeez! Let’s see, he mentioned that freak would always know where you are, that he was handled by that researcher with the nice legs--

“Of course!” Sybil exclaims! “Professor Venaas! The captive human you saw in the fortress!” The doll scribbles something excitedly in her notebook. “Rocky mentioned she was running that project and that it required maintenance, yes?”

“Maintenance?” Art asks, raising an eyebrow, “What is it, a robot or something?”

The four of you sit in silence for a moment, contemplating Art’s words.

“I don’t think so.” Sybil states, breaking the silence. “It’s too unpredictable to be a robot.”

Yea, and it can run. Art and Sybil’s eyes go wide.

“That’s…” Art begins, “That’s against the rules.”

That’s what YOU said! This guy SUCKS!

“The robot theory DOES support the laser eyes.” Sybil interjects, nodding. “However, there’s too much we just don’t know, and there’s only one way to get an answer.”

The LIBRARY.

“No, Stan. I was thinking about Rocky’s final clue. ‘Secret Woods’.” Sybil counters, emphasizing the last words.

“Now dat’ ya mention it…” Ly begins, scratching his jaw, “Wasn’t there footprints around da’ factory when we woke up in da tree?”

You feel your heart sink into your stomach. This doesn’t mean you have to go on a NATURE EXCURSION, does it?

“If we want to get to the bottom of this ‘specialist’ business, then yes.” Sybil affirms. “There’s no better place to hide a secret laboratory in Clearwater than the Redwood Preserve. Which reminds me…”

Sybil quietly chants, causing a rolled up piece of paper to form in the center of the table! Moving the remainder of the pizza out of the way, you take a closer look at what Sybil whipped up.

Looks like a map!

>CONTD.
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>>4695021
“I thought it would be best for us to get our bearings.” Sybil explains, flattening out the corners. “We can refer to this as we decide our next step, but to conclude my previous point, if the lab is anywhere, it’s most likely around HERE.” The doll states, pointing to the part of the map detailing the Redwood Preserve.

“Sounds like we’d be searching for a really small needle in a really big haystack.” Art groans, leaning back in his stool. You nod--you could be out there for days, and think about the MOUNTAIN LIONS.

“In that case,” Sybil pivots, slight annoyance in her voice, “Let’s talk about the short-term. We know that unless an area is magically warded, this ‘specialist’ will track you down eventually.”

You, Art, and Ly nod--sounds about right!

“We also know that he’s one tough cookie.” Art adds. “Small arms might as well be NARF gun pellets.”

Yea. He also didn’t really seem to care about being lit on fire or blown up--the whole school was falling around him and he acted like it was drizzling.

“In that case, I propose some experiments.” Sybil announces, a glint in her eye. “When he tracks Stan down again, let’s try some more… Unorthodox techniques.”

Meaning?

“Electricity. Water. Acid, if we can find it. Gravity is also a promising candidate.”

The doll snags a piece of sausage from the pizza, then drops it over the edge of the table. Okay, that’s how you get ants!

“If those aren’t available, you run. Got it?” Sybil asks, pointing an arm stub at you viciously.

Gotcha, you reply, not entirely intimidated after hearing her scream earlier. Nodding, Sybil gestures to the map.

“Right then, what’s next on the agenda?”

Next, you begin, is she’s gonna pick up that sausage.

“Stan, it’s fine. Pick something else.”

>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.
>Why did we meet h

NO, it isn’t! Pick it up! The doll groans, then dips under the table to fetch it.

>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.
>Why did we meet HERE? Is it SAFE?
>How’s everyone DOING?
>Let’s talk about SYB coming here PHYSICALLY.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695023
>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT.

Let's ask Art where the hell this security place is with info, and how close it is to Syb's apartment. Ideally, we can grab the information and then head back there to pour over it without worrying about Talbot finding us. Also, we may be able to use Talbot strategically- if we lure him over to the security station, then GBDB will have to fight that thing and we'll be all clear to sneak inside and grab what we need.
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>>4695023
Supporting
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>>4695042
>Let’s talk about where we’re heading NEXT
Also supporting, I still really am not a big fan of fighting this guy face to face with our current powerset though.
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>>4695042
>>4695071
>>4695133
Next stop on the Skelly Smashers Tour is...

Writing!
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Sybil returns shortly from the floor, sausage lazily hovering in the air next to her.

“Better, Stan?” She asks, an impatient tone in her voice. Better, but not perfect--toss it in the trash can, please!

As the doll floats to the nearest garbage can (muttering under her breath the whole way) you take a gander at the map once more--it’s good stuff, you’ll admit that. Makes things a bit easier to plan!

“So uh… Where to?” Art asks, leaning over to get a glimpse of the map.

Well, you begin, you’re pretty sure your options are as follows, and you’ve come up with OPERATION NAMES for each one!

MISSION SELECT THEME https://youtu.be/KgvFmhP7GMs

OPERATION DUSTY BONES: Infiltrate the Museum to find dirt/useful stuff for tracking down the SEA WITCH!

OPERATION CLEAR SKIES: Head to JOPLIN to learn more about the COWPOKE!

OPERATION FISH N’ CHIPS: Head to the coast to recon PIRATE ACTIVITY!

OPERATION WATER GATE: Journey to the HYDROELECTRIC DAM to see what the GENERAL has cooking up there!

OPERATION HAPPY TRAILS: Scout the REDWOOD PRESERVE for signs of a SECRET LAB!

OPERATION OVERTIME: Head to one of the SECURITY STATIONS Art mentioned and grab some Good Boy Intel!

OPERATION TO BE DECIDED: INSERT DETAILS OF YOUR OPERATION HERE!

“...What’s with the last one?” Art asks, shooting you a quizzical look. You like to keep your options open, is all!

“What if we have another operation idea?” Art asks, looking back at the map. You smile--that’s fine! You’re in charge of the naming, though.

“You make the call, then.” Art shrugs. “You’ve been pretty good at pickin’ em’ so far…”

>Choose an operation above for more details--there will be a vote afterwards to CONFIRM it. This dictates where we go next, so naturally I’ll give some time to think about it!
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>OPERATION OVERTIME
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>>4695201
>OPERATION OVERTIME
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>>4695223
>>4695248
OPERATION OVERTIME it is! Writing!
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You tap a chunk of pizza crust on the map as you pick apart your options--needless to say you’ve got a LOT of pots boiling right now! Analyzing the map and its many destinations filled in by Sybil’s diligent han--er, arm stub, you can’t help but feel like there’s something missing…

“Confused?” Sybil asks, returning from her trip to the garbage can. “I coded the locations by letter, Stan. Here, let me show--”

No, it’s not THAT, you grumble, shaking your head. There’s something bugging you--a piece of the puzzle you haven’t placed yet.

Art, Sybil, and Ly look at each other, then all speak simultaneously.

“Good Boy.”
“Good Boy.”
“Good Boy.”

Friggin’ GOOD BOY! You exclaim, slamming your fist on the table and causing everything on it to rattle! How do they fit in all of this? Why do they have more hardware than the National Guard? Why are they sending Death Squads after you? This is America, damn it!

“It’s certainly been bugging me as well…” Sybil agrees, nodding her doll head. “Despite it all we’ve learned quite little about their stance on everything, yet they have quite a large finger dipped into the proverbial ‘pie’...”

“Don’t forget what Rocky said.” Art adds, shoving the pizza a little more towards the center of the table. “He thinks they have something to do with hiding the people… How the heck can they manage that so quickly and easily?”

You nod. They’ve had the drop on you for too long and the lieutenants aren’t going anywhere. Locating Sybil’s apartment on your map, you point at the letter and turn to Art--does he know of any Security Station around that area?

“Hmmm…” Art muses, scratching his chin as he takes a closer look, “Now that you mention it, the Station I reported to is right in that neck of the woods!” The guard turns to Sybil and grins.

“Must be fate, huh?”

Buh-ARF. Ignoring the stupid grin Sybil makes, you gesture for the group to move on--you’ve got a PLAN.

“Spill it!” Ly says, checking the map from over your shoulder. With a conspiratorial grin you clear your throat and begin explaining!

>CONTD.
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>>4695415
Sybil’s Apartment is, for better or worse, their best bet as a ‘safehouse’. It’s warded, the Good Boy Goons have already searched it, AND knowing Syb there’s a ton of snacks in the fridge.

“All true, yes.” Sybil nods.

Therefore, you continue, the Security Station around there is your best bet. You can head that way and scout things out--maybe sneak in and grab some info if you’re lucky.

“I can probably find us a way in that avoids too much suspicion!” Art boasts, giving you a thumbs up!

Super.

“And I can do a bit a’ reconnaissance too!” Ly adds, winking at you. Somehow.

Satisfied, you eagerly look around the room at your crack team--forget bacon and eggs, you’re serving up a helping of Corporate Espionage for breakfast--hold the ethics!

As your pals respond with an enthusiastic ‘YEA!’ you grab a knife from the table and STAB it into where Art’s Security Station is!

“...Stan…” Sybil murmurs, an annoyed look on her face, “Now the map is ruined.”

“Yea, that knife had sauce all over it…” Art adds.

“Really oughta’ treat people’s stuff more respectfully, cupcake.” Ly remarks.

Oh COME ON!

>CONTD.
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>>4695420
After cleaning the map and apologizing to Sybil, your CRACK team prepares for action!

“So uh…” Art asks, idly scratching his head, “How are we going about this whole thing?”

Well, erm… You begin, fidgeting in your stool.

“We have a few options.” Sybil explains, “We can go STRAIGHT THERE, we can STOP AT MY APARTMENT for SUPPLIES, or we can MAKE A DETOUR--maybe track down Cliff and the others first…”

How does she do that with her voice? Anyways, Sybil has a point--there’s more than one way to skin this cat. What’s the plan?

>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
>STOP AT SYB’S. Maybe we can gear up first!
>CONTACT CLIFF. Maybe they can help us out?
>MAKE A DETOUR ELSEWHERE (WRITE-IN)
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
Talbot is already on our tail, let's use that to our advantage and have him become someone else's problem
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695422
>Head STRAIGHT THERE. Time’s a-wastin’!
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>>4695429
>>4695468
>>4695492
>>4695498
Straight to the place it is! Writing!
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Wiping your mouth clean with a napkin, you stand up from your stool and grin--time and tide wait for no man!

“Neither does dat’ ‘Talbot’ guy…” Ly murmurs.

Art rises from his stool and pops his helmet on with a satisfying ‘click’ as Sybil hops into your pocket. Ly just… Does his thing.

“You’re the boss!” Art remarks, giving you a quick salute!

“I’ll do my best to provide support!” Sybil adds, giving you what you assume to be a thumb’s up on her arm stub. Unless she’s FLIPPING YOU OFF! HEY!

You and your entourage leave the way you came in--via the back entrance.

“So are we walking, or…?” Art mutters, looking at your handiwork below the broken vent. What is he, blind? You gesture to the MAGNIFICENT STEED still gleaming in the rising morning sun! Sybil and Art don’t seem as jazzed about it as you are.

“That’s uh…” Art begins, searching for the proper words, “Very visible.”

Then why did he have so much trouble finding it? Patting the seat you motion for Art to get comfy. Chop chop.

“I uh…” Art mutters, “Didn’t know you knew how to ride a scooter!”

You don’t! You did a damn good job escaping from the school with it, though! Ly pops out of your body, nodding vigorously.

“You shoulda’ seen it! She was like dat’ stunt guy… Rip... Uh… What was his name…”

RIP KORD? He’s the guy that jumped those cancer patients, right? Blindfolded?

“Dat’s da’ one. Stan was like him, only she didn’t flub da’ landin’!”

Sybil squirms in your pocket. “Stan, don’t you think it would be a good idea to use another vehicle? Perhaps one with more… Stability?”

You frown, annoyance building. Where’s their wheels, huh? Do they want to pull back a curtain on a limo or something? You’re waiting!

Crossing your arms, you wait for the two to produce anything roadworthy, but neither of them speak up.

“We uh…” Art mumbles, wringing his hands and avoiding your gaze, “We got a ride. From the greasers.”

From the GREASERS! You repeat, raising your hands towards the sky! Of course! Well then, let’s just call them up, shall we? Ask for a lift? Art shrugs.

“I mean… We could try...”

“We could also try to locate another vehicle nearby!” Sybil adds cheerfully! “I can help find something if I know what to look for!”

You give your steed a forlorn look--you haven’t even named it yet! Sensing your unease, Ly leans in close and whispers in your ear:

“They’ll follow your lead, cupcake--it’s your choice!”

At least ONE person still supports you here!

Anyways, what’s the plan?
>No dice, dicks--we’re taking the SCOOTER.
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
>Syb, see if you can LOCATE a VEHICLE (WRITE-IN TYPE).
>Let’s just WALK! It’s good for you!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4695591
>Let’s just WALK! It’s good for you!
A little exercise never hurt anybody!
>>
>Updated inventory list if people need it--note the added SCOOTER KEYS under Stan's keyring! OOOOOH, fancy!

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, APARTMENT, and SCOOTER 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 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 8 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>1 ADDRESS (Given by ART)
>1 PACK OF TISSUES
>1 PACK OF CLOVE CIGARETTES
>1 MENU FOR ANDRE’S STEAKHOUSE
>1 SCOOTER KEY
>1 KITTY BIKE HELMET
>1 CLEARWATER MAP
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>>4695605
Oh yeah while we're walking let's show Sybil the funny amulet if we haven't already
>>
Got work early tomorrow, so I'll leave this decision open until 3-4PM PST! Thanks for playing as usual and have a good start to your week!
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>>4695591
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
We have a souped up van for a reason, we can use it to hold shit and its easier to fire from as well. If we walk I have a sneaking suspicion Talladega is gonna catch up to us.
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>>4695591
>No dice, dicks--we’re taking the SCOOTER.
We don't want to ride up to GB compound in a stolen GB vehicle.
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>>4695770
Wellllllll, technically we still have its official driver in it. Might actually help us out.
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>>4695591
>Let’s call up CLIFF and see if we can get a RIDE.
Fiiiiiine, we'll get the van back. But once this whole skeleton business is over, that scooter is OURS.
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>>4695600
>Get those steps in!

>>4695614
>Show Syb your SWEET AMULET
I'll pop this in regardless of what is chosen--nice idea!

>>4695756
>>4695807
>Catch a RIIIIIIIDE

>>4695770
>Scoot on outtie

Looks like we're catching a lift! Writing!
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Part of you wants to use the scooter until you realize that there’s barely any room on it for both you and Art, and you certainly don’t want to try to drive with all of his loud breathing in your ear--you can barely stand it now!

You also got pretty lucky in finding the keys for the scooter--you’d rather not waste valuable time trying to hotwire something when you can just go for a simpler option, and in this case the simplest option is calling your GREASER PALS!

“Good call.” Art says, giving you a thumbs up. “We can also check on how they’re holding up.”

Oh right, that too! Whipping out your RADIO, you make sure it’s set to channel 9 and hold down the broadcasting button. DO YOU READ?!

“--an?!” A familiar voice asks through the scratchy speaker, “It’s Stripes--man, don’t know what da’ hell ya’ did to da’ school, but jeez--remind me ta’ not get on your bad side!”

… Yea, that was ALL YOU--watch out! Sybil gives you a look as you start stretching your legs--how’s Stripes and the rest doing anyways?

“Lost a few guys to that big guy--Wyatt took a big hit too defendin’ da front. He’s gonna be over da’ moon hearin’ you’re okay though!”

Good ole’ Wyatt. You wish him a speedy recovery!

“You seen dat’ guy? A truck couldn’t keep da’ big lug down. Anywho, I’ll let ‘em know. We’re relocatin’ to da’ Drive-In for now, but once we’re all settled in we’ll invite ya’ to da’ housewarmin’, dig?”

You dig. Ignoring Art’s impatient pantomime of a wheel rolling, you tell Stripes that you need a favor.

“Knew dis’ was comin’... Aaaah, just kiddin’! Whatcha’ need, kid?”

Wheels, for starters. You’re planning on hitting one of Good Boy’s Security Stations and you don’t want to walk.

“Say no more. Actually… Say a little more.” Stripes responds, the sound of motors revving in the background, “Got a guy who can DELIVER whatever you need, even HOLD ON TA’ STUFF too--question is, what exactly are ya’ lookin’ for?”

You grin--now he’s talkin’! What’s he got on tap?

“Hold on a sec’...” The radio goes dead for a moment, then sounds off again. “Chef’s specials for today are as follows: we’ve got a BIKE WITH A SIDECAR, perfect for speedy getaways, plus it ain’t gonna topple over easy..

A TWO-SEATER HOT ROD, engine tweaked with love and care, not to mention storage space in da’ trunk…

And lastly, DA’ VAN. We took off da’ Good Boy details, so it’ll take a bit for those goons ta’ recognize it. Lotsa space as you know, but not da’ fastest.”

Not bad, not bad…. Anything else?

“I can check, but again--we’re on da’ move here. Not exactly overflowin’ wit’ stuff right now.”

What sounds good?
>The BIKE AND SIDECAR--FAST, but FLIMSY in a fight.
>The HOT ROD--the MIDDLE option!
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
>You got any…. (WRITE-IN)
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
Just like Stan!
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>>4696692
Woah, I think you went a little too far there, anon. I can handle a lot of stuff, but BULLYING? No way. You'd better apologize to her and fast!
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>>4696704
I mean it’s kind of a compliment
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>>4696720
That will do! Leaning towards the van for now, but I'll leave this vote open a bit longer just in case!
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
Yes on the van, but also
>Have Cliff hold onto the scooter.
We want this queen for later.
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>>4696607
>The VAN--STRONG and BIG, but SLOW.
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>>4696692
>>4696834
>>4696852
>>4696872
>Stan wants the VAN!

Writing!
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Driving across the bone-ridden hellscape that was once your hometown just wouldn’t feel right without DA’ VAN. You hear Stripes chuckle on the other end.

“I had a feelin’ you’d say dat’. One van comin’ up--you wanna tell me where ta’ send your carriage?”

You echo the address Art wrote for you, shooting the man in question a thumbs up, which he returns graciously.

“Arcade, huh?” Stripes asks, slightly bewildered. “Pretty sure dat’ place used ta’ be a butcher shop or somethin--go figure! Alright, kid, one van comin’ up--my boy will be there lickety-split!”

Cool your jets, you say, pointing a finger at the radio assertively, whoever’s dropping off the van will also be picking something of yours up. Something IMPORTANT.

“Gotcha, boss--VIC, Very Important Cargo! What kinda wheels ya got?”

It’s uh… A scooter, you reply, wistfully glancing at your steed. Can’t miss it.

“Paulie’s gonna be over da’ moon--he hasn’t driven anything with less than four wheels in ages!"

It's gonna be memorable, alright! You wink at your pals, but they don't wink back--party poopers.

"Alright, Stan, if there’s nothing else then I’ll wish ya good luck! You’re gonna need it.”

Him too! He can let you know if there’s anything they need for the Drive-In.

“Cliff’s runnin’ da’ show so I don’t expect anything bad, but we’ll give ya’ a call if anything pops up. Sit tight--your chariot’s on da’ way!”

With that, the radio goes silent. Your gang grins with anticipation--it’ll be nice to get the ole’ van back!

“I’ll say!” Art agrees, “Still can’t believe how much action it saw yesterday…”

And it’ll definitely see more today, you’re sure of that!

“Looks like we’ve got some time ta’ kill.” Ly observes, watching the road for movement. “Stripes give any ETA on this guy?”

None whatsoever. What’s your plan until then?
>Arcade games, DUH.
>Let’s SEARCH this place more!
>I wanna talk to (INSERT PAL HERE)
>I’m gonna take a NAP--wake me when something happens.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4696974
>Arcade games, DUH.
Ever heard of Omnibius? Apparently that game make makes you go CooCoo if you play it. I heard it was some CIA plot to learn how to get people addicted to stuff, like crack.
>>
Passing out over here, so I'll check in tomorrow around 3-4PM PST and write an update then! Thanks for playin' and hope to see you again next time!
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>>4696974
>Let’s SEARCH this place more!
Former butcher shop is a plot hook if I've ever seen one.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1: >>4697012
2: >>4697058

I like both these so I'll roll
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>>4697012
>Video games

>>4697058
>>4697271
Searching da' joint!

Writing!
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Suppressing a yawn, you take another look at the arcade behind you. You’ve only just got here and now you’re gonna leave? No way!

“We gonna play some games?” Ly asks, joining you in your examination of the establishment. Not this time, you answer, shaking your head--but you ARE gonna explore a bit more! Stripes said this used to be a butcher shop--you know what THAT means!

“... That it used to be a butcher shop?” Art answers, scratching his side idly. No, you frown, it means some weird shit happened here!

“Now that you mention it,” Sybil murmurs from your pocket, “I sense a slight disturbance in this place--like a… Spiritual echo.”

“Oh boy, here we go again…” Art groans, “Let’s go, then!” He sighs, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “Let’s ruin another one of my childhood haunts.”

We will once he stops being such a BABY. The question is, what room would have the WEIRDEST SHIT in an arcade?

>The DINING AREA, duh. No, it’s not an excuse to get more Pizza!
>The ARCADE. Hiding in plain sight!
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
>The BATHROOMS! Something smells, and it isn’t urinal cakes!
>The VENTS! You didn’t really get a chance to scoot around.
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697704
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
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>>4697704
>The OFFICE. That’s where all the deals are made…
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>>4697704
>The ARCADE. Hiding in plain sight!
Listen we've got 67 cents in our wallet, if any of that is quarters we can get some sick loot from a crane game
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>>4697717
>>4697720
>The fat cat's lair!

>>4697730
Where tokens go to die!

Writing!
>>
Everyone knows that the weirdest and worst shit is committed by corporate fat cats, so we’ll be checking the office first!

“Stan, Shep Pederson was one of the nicest business owners I ever met.” Art groans as your entourage marches into the empty arcade once more! “He was a cancer survivor...”

The perfect cover, you reply, wagging your finger in the air! To get to the office you make your way through the eerily silent arcade--a far cry from the gala of lights and sounds you usually hear! Trying your best to ignore the SIREN’S CALL of booting up the cabinets for a few hours, you lead your merry band to the door marked WIZARD’S LAIR near the back. Jackpot!

Ly pops his head through the door without you even telling him--hey, he’s learning!

“Coast is clear, cupcake! It’s a mess in there, though!”

You’re a janitor--messes are your business! Extending your hand for the doorknob, you pause--what if this is a trap?

“... Syb, are you listening to this?” Art whines, glancing at the doll in your pocket.

“You get used to it.” The doll replies, a knowing look in her button eyes. “Stan, do what you see fit--just remember we’re expecting company soon.”

That’s what you like to hear! How do you open the door?

>SHOOT IT OPEN!
>BONE CLAWS!
>Open it politely and quietly.
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697825
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
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>>4697825
>SPIN-KICK THAT SHIT!
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>>4697839
>>4697842
SPIN KICK IT IS! Roll me a 1d100 to splinter this shit--I'll take the best of 3 rolls!
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Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>4697884
Secret Parble Technique #12: Spin Kick of Death
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Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>4697884
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>4697884
>>
>>4697891
>>4697893
>>4697911
>Highest Roll: 69 :^)
Writing!
>>
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You lick the tip of your pointer finger, then raise it to test the wind.

“We’re inside, cupcake.” Ly reports helpfully. Exactly.

Backing up a bit and squaring your legs, your mind drifts to the days you spent with your brother when he was still a martial arts novice…

“Remember, Stan,” he said, the two of you resting on the dojo floor, “This technique is never meant to be used--not for good, nor for evil.”

You nodded--your body was a weapon now--never to be used.

“You can probably use it to open a door though--it would look really cool. You’d probably make Art cry if he saw you do it--”

“Yea alright, pretty sure he didn’t say that.” Art grumbles, pulling you out of your memories. Refocusing, you take a deep breath and motion Art to back up a bit--you don’t want to accidentally kick him in half or something!

With a lackluster shrug, the security goon retreats a bit allowing you to bounce twice, step forward with your right foot, then leap into SECRET PARBLE TECHNIQUE #12: SPIN KICK OF DEATH!

The door never stood a chance--one minute it’s there, the next it’s toothpicks. Landing back on your feet like a feather, you survey the damage--where there once was a door there is now nothing more than…

Well.

“Christ, Stan.” Art remarks, looking over your shoulder into the office. Barely consisting of a small CRT TV, a cheap desk, some filing cabinets (your favorite), and a toppled old office chair, the workspace looks like a hurricane whipped through it--the contents of the desk spilled over and buried under the wooden doorbris!

“No traps, ey?” Ly chuckles as you enter the room. Sticking out of the rubble you notice a classic DRINKY INKY BIRD, its drink’s contents spilled all over the cheap floor, a PICTURE FRAME impaled with wood splinters, and a STACK OF COFFEE-STAINED PAPERS!

“Gee, Stan, looks like you found our mastermind.” Art sighs, glancing your way. Ignoring him, you pick the picture off of the ground and remove some splinters revealing the face of a bald older man surrounded by a similarly-aged woman and two teenagers, all smiling.

This disproves nothing.

“You’re going to Hell, Stan.” Art remarks, picking the chair back up off of the floor as Sybil hums with energy in your pocket.

“No sign of the echo…” She whispers, slightly disappointed. “Whatever I’m detecting it’s somewhere else…”

“Maybe there’s a clue in here?” Ly muses, looking your way.

What do?
>Yea, this was a bad idea. Let’s BAIL.
>Check the PAPERS. Gotta be something incriminating!
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
>The CABINETS! That’s our ticket!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4697992
>Check the PAPERS. Gotta be something incriminating!
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
>>
>Check the DESK. Always something good there!
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>>4698026
>>4698059
Desk and Papers--gotcha! Writing!
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You’ll start with the desk--the last one had a secret compartment--lord knows this one’s gotta have something neat too! Politely scooching past Art, you begin opening the drawers feverishly, your mind racing with all of the possibilities!

Your search nets you quite the haul--1 STAPLER, 1 PAIR OF SCISSORS, 1 CRUMPLED RECEIPT FOR BOZO’S BURGER, 1 ROLL OF STAMPS…

Hey, wait a minute--this is CRAP.

“Gee, find anything?” Art asks, somehow managing a wry smile through his mask. Patience is a virtue, Art! Rummaging through the office supplies and lint collection, you find a dusty envelope at the end of the top drawer! PAYDIRT!

“Open it!” Ly hisses, goading you on! Waving the envelope at Art with a smug grin on your face, you reach in and pull out its contents!

It… A card. An image of a desk fan sits on the front, the text Dad, I’m your biggest FAN in cartoony letters. You open it and reveal the punchline--”Don't stop blowing me away!” along with a chicken scratch note written in blue pen:

Pops, what a year, right? You beat the big C, so we know you can beat the big B--the bar! I found someone who can do the drinking for ya’ from now on, so keep on being the amazing dad that you are! Sending you lots of love,

Rudy and Vanessa!

PS. those DRINKY birds are supposed to last forever--just like our love!


You quietly stuff the card back into the envelope, ignoring the decapitated DRINKY INKY bird lying in a puddle of water on the floor. Guess uh… Guess that isn’t it.

“Here,” Art grumbles, handing you the pile of papers from the floor, “Sort through those.”

You’re getting to it, jeez! Adjusting your sunglasses, you start sifting through the papers. Expenses, bills, and a whole lotta red ink. With an unsatisfied sigh you let the papers drop to the desk, dejected.

“For what it’s worth, Stan,” Art begins, his voice measured and calm, “Not everywhere we go is gonna have a dark secret.”

You don’t even respond, you just nod. Damn it, what about that echo? Probably just some interfer-

“Err, Stan--what’s that?” Sybil asks, pointing at a handwritten note sticking out of the pile! Snatching it like a cat grabbing a canary, you carefully inspect the writing!

Jed, thanks again for all of your hard work all these years--never would have figured out how to maintain those cabinets on my own and I know how much this old place means to you! Regrettably, I think this is it for Tower--Arcades just aren’t the thing anymore. Do me a favor and clean out your closet a bit--a guy from the internet company’s coming tomorrow to install a new router and I swear that odd smell is back. Might have some potential buyers tour the place too.

Thanks again,

Shep


Wide-eyed and curiosity renewed, you look up from reading the note--could THIS be it?!

“Let me guess--we’re checking the supply closet now.” Art mutters, crossing his arms.

You BET we are!

>CONTD.
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>>4698190
Seconds later, you, Art, Ly and Sybil loiter outside of the janitor’s closet in a corner of the arcade you didn’t even notice.

“Never knew there was a handyman here.” Art remarks, looking the door up and down. “Guess he worked during off-hours.”

Determined, you grip the door handle in your fingers and yank the closet open revealing--

A uh… A closet.

Art sighs and walks away as you, Syb and Ly take a closer look--unlike the one at Good Boy, this one isn’t even an office--Hell, it’s barely a room! All that remains of whoever worked here is a pair of BLEACHED COVERALLS, an EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, and a GOLF CLUB BAG.

“Nice ta’ know we’ve got somethin’ ta’ look forward to.” Ly remarks, taking a closer look at the GOLF CLUB BAG. “Quite da’ legacy us janitors leave behind!”

You huff--it’s not all bad! You could probably use this SPRAY BOTTLE…

“Hmmm. Still getting a pulse, but not sure where it’s coming from…” Sybil whispers, looking around the closet.

Well whatever it is, it isn’t HERE. Reaching for the EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, you grasp the nozzle in your hands, but suddenly lose your footing!

You, Ly, and Syb yelp as you tumble forwards, crashing into the GOLF BAG in a heap! Coughing up lint from your mouth, you sit there in the corner for a minute to check for any more dust.

“YOU GOOD?!” Art shouts, skidding around the corner! You nod--yea, but your allergies aren’t gonna be happy about this…

The security guard doesn’t respond. Following his gaze behind you, you notice a section of the wall pushed slightly ajar by your body and the GOLF CLUB BAG.

“No fucking way.” Art mutters, not taking his eyes off of it:

A SECRET DOOR!

Chuckling to yourself, you make to get up, but stop when Art motions for you to stand still!

“Stan…” He begins, his voice quiet, “Behind you…”

Following his finger, you look to your right and see what appears to be a tripwire just inches from the secret door--the wrong move might snap it!

“Carefully now!” Sybil adds, debating whether to stay in your pocket or not. Ly dips through the door for a second, then comes back with wide eye-sockets!

“It’s attached to a grenade, Stan--a CLUMP of em!”

Just GREAT--why couldn’t you just find some incriminating photos or something?

>Roll 1d100 to NOT get blown to bits! I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>4698197
Can tripwires be disabled by cutting them? If Art says yes let's use those SCISSORS from the office. Otherwise, limbo time!
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>4698197
>>
Gonna call it here for tonight--got a big day tomorrow. I might be able to swing an update around 9-10AM PST, otherwise catch me at the usual 3-4PM PST. Thanks for playing!
>>
>>4698303
Thanks as always for running!
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4698197
>>
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>4698197
>Roll 1d100 to NOT get blown to bits! I’ll take the best of 3!
Lets get one more roll out there.
>>
Just dropping in to ask when Stanley is going to get boned... in a sexual manner.
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>>4698914
Bonk at you.
>>
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>>4698914
>>
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Hey all, I've seen your rolls and I'll be updating a little later today--meetings went mad longer than expected and I've gotta catch up with some work. Should have something for you around 5PM PST--apologies again for misleading you!

>>4698908
A fantastic roll, but... But it was too late....

>>4698914
Pic related, man--you've gotta work on those social links first!
>>
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Thankfully your sleep deprivation helps you in not fidgeting--hey, that means that Tabard indirectly saved your life! HAH!

“I uh… Hey Syb, come over to me!” Art mutters, clearly nowhere near as composed as you are right now! As Sybil debates leaving you to die, an idea forms in your head!

Art--the SCISSORS!

“Wh-huh? What about them?” He replies, reaching out for Sybil.

You can cut the wire with them, DUH! Quit trying to leave us for dead and go get ‘em!

“I’m no--you ca--OKAY!” Art answers, running off with a curt nod leaving you, Ly, and Syb in the DASTARDLY TRAP! As you hang tight, Sybil sighs in your pocket. What? He wanted to be a hero, he’s being a hero!

“I’m aware, it’s just…”

Just what?

“...Never mind.” The doll responds, clearly absorbed in thought. Oh boy, you know what ‘never mind’ means! GIRL CODE!

Before Syb can respond, Art comes dashing around the corner again with a pair of scissors. Wait a minute, did he RUN with those?

“Yea…” Art nods, holding them out to you. “Not really safe, but given the circumstances…”

Not bad, Art! Taking the scissors from his outstretched hand, you cautiously reach behind you towards the wire beyond the secret door.

“A little to da’ left!” Ly directs, motioning you with his spectral hands! “Dat’s it! Now CUT!”

Biting your lip, you clamp the scissor blades shut around the wire causing it to go slack!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

“... Please don’t joke about that.” Sybil murmurs in response to your joke. Rolling your eyes, you look behind you--though the tripwire is gone, the grenades still remain!

“Looks like it was set up ta’ pull da pins.” Ly reports, head poking through the door. “Should be fine now as long as ya don’t smoke around ‘em or somethin’.”

Rising to your feet, you hold a fist out to Art--nice work on the scissors! The guard bashfully rubs the back of his helmet before bumping your fist with his.

“... Any time!”

You give him a sly grin--playing it cool, huh? As he brushes you off, you turn your attention to the true star of the show: THE 3 GRENADES!

“If you’re even briefly considering the idea of taking those with you,” Sybil begins, giving you a stern look, “I’ll be riding with Art from now on--who knows what will happen if they jostle against the wrong item in your pockets…”

“They could be useful though!” Art counters. “Might delay that Talbot guy if you use ‘em right!”

You’re definitely taking the EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE, but what about THE GRENADES?

>You bet your ASS I’m takin’ em! [Take ALL 3 Grenades]
>You’ll just take ONE. As a SAMPLE! [Take 1 Grenade]
>Syb’s right--these might be DANGEROUS. [Take 0 Grenades :c]
>We’re takin’ em’, but Art can carry a few! [How many to Stan and Art?]
>WRITE-IN
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>>4699340
>We’re takin’ em’, but Art can carry a few! [How many to Stan and Art?]

2 for us. Art can have a grenade, as a treat
>>
>>4699344
Pineapple for everyone! Writing!
>>
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You’re with Art on this one--one grenade is good, two is dangerous, but THREE?

Three’s a Get-Out-Of-Danger-Free card. Plus you’ve been carrying around a shotgun and two handguns in your pockets for hours now--a grenade or two isn’t gonna change anything!

“... Just be careful...” Sybil huffs, not noticing Art silently pumping his fist behind her. No sweat, you’re always careful! The doll floats over to his shoulder as you crouch through the secret door, reaching out for the grenades dangling like unpicked fruit. Cutting the remaining wire from the pins with your BONE CLAWS, you snag them all and turn around to smile at your companions--say, did they know you can juggle?

NO!” Sybil exclaims with wide buttons, startling Art! “No… That’s fine, Stan.” Shrugging, you begin shoving the grenades into your pockets, still marveling at all the space you have in your jeans and hoodie!

Stuffing them next to what you assume is between your firearms and lighter, your eyes catch a glimpse of Art’s mask--he almost looks… Disappointed?

You nod at him with a warm smile on your face--think fast, kid! Lobbing a grenade his way, Art snaps out of his funk just in time to snag it out of the air, his eye lenses positively GLEAMING from the new toy!

“Stan… I uh…” The guard mutters, trying to avoid Syb’s hard stare, “Thanks!”

Don’t mention it! Now everyone has an insurance policy! Everyone in your group more or less satisfied, you turn your attention again to the secret door at the back of the closet--past the devious trap sit several crude stairs spiraling downwards into a rough-hewn hole in the arcade’s foundation. Secret-LICIOUS!

“So,” Art begins, still excited from the grenade, “Who’s going first?”

>ME, of course!
>LY, of course!
>ART! Protect the ladies for once!
>SYB! Maybe she can find that echo!
>WRITE-IN
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>>4699471
>LY, of course!
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>>4699471
>LY
hes like unkillable, what could go wrong?
>>
>>4699471
>LY, of course!
>>
>>4699478
>>4699530
>>4699541
Follow the Lyder! Writing!
>>
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You snap your fingers a few times--Ly, you’re up.

“Hope there ain’t no ASTRAL TRIP WIRES…” Your skeleton whines, floating ahead of your group. Yea, yea…

You and Art pass the time examining the grenades you picked up--there’s a lot of serial number stuff on them, but you’re not exactly sure what kind of ‘boom’ you’re gonna get, you know?

“Guess we’ll have to find out later…” The guard muses.

As you contemplate trying one out in the parking lot just for kicks, your skeleton rockets through the floor, astral sweat dampening his cranium!

“T-t-th-th-th!”

Rolling your eyes, you motion for him to hurry up, you don’t have time for 20 Questions!

“Th-there’s some STUFF down there, Stan!” You skeleton mutters between chattering teeth! “It’s safe, but… Just LOOK!”

Exchanging glances with Art and Syb, you clamber into the secret passage and follow a dimly-lit set of stairs downwards, the air growing damper and colder as you go. Descending deeper into the earth, you continue down the stairs until you’re met with a mural written in red, flaky paint--

GAME OVER

You frown--is this what Ly wanted you to see? What a WUSS!

“Keep goin’!” Ly hisses, pointing at a rusty metal door at the base of the stairs. “There’s more!”

Shrugging, you lead the way to the door and open it with a loud CREAK! Inside is… Well, part of you wants to say some sort of kitchen. This one isn’t gonna pass any health inspections, though--the prep areas are caked in acrid black matter emanating from an old sink clogged with tepid rust-colored water.

Cobwebs and dust pepper every available surface, and the only available source of light flickers above from a solitary lightbulb dangling from the ceiling!

“This must be the BUTCHER SHOP!” Sybil whispers, her button eyes widening in recognition! Hey, yea, Stripes mentioned something about that, didn’t he?

“Arcade must’ve been built over it.” Art muses, keeping his rifle trained on the corners. “The hell is that?”

Following Art’s gun, you spy a yellowed envelope stuck to the wall by a butcher knife with letters written in neat, yet faded handwriting addressed to “The Winner”.

“Stan, go open it!” Sybil commands, eyes wide with excitement!

“Hold on…” Art mutters, “We should search the place a bit more first.”

What do?
>OPEN the LETTER!
>SEARCH the joint!
>This is too freaky, let’s LEAVE.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4699681
>OPEN the LETTER!
Hope we arent making a... BONER!
>>
>>4699681
>SEARCH the joint!
There might be more traps in the envelope!
>>
>>4699681
>OPEN the LETTER!
Curiosity overwhelms me
>>
>>4699755
>>4700244
>The LETTERRRRRRRRR

>>4699791
Case the joint

Guess who's got time for an updaaaaate? Writing!
>>
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https://youtu.be/LGPDKpjJq1k?list=PL1caomPZ-YkrT0nIHF2SxTpJ2STZS0uJ0

Too late--Syb’s excitement is CONTAGIOUS! Stepping over a particularly dark puddle of viscous fluid, you make your way to where the LETTER is. The BUTCHER KNIFE holding it in place is weathered--water spots and bits of rust pepper the metal and a thin layer of dust tumbles to the ground as you pull it out of the wall.

“Found a MEAT LOCKER!” Art reports from the other room as you gently pick up the letter from the floor! That’s great, he can try to get it open while you read! Hearing an affirmative grunt, you rip open the sealed envelope revealing a stack of folded papers. TONS.

“These are…” Sybil begins, floating closer, “Newspaper clippings?”

Yep, dating all the way back to the 60’s if the newspaper dates are real!

You quickly thumb through the pile and read the headlines: Brutal Body Art Found By The Coast, ‘Corpse Art’ Killer Strikes Again, Skeleton Sculpture Shocks Shoppers... Each headline is accompanied by a newspaper-friendly picture of what you can only assume to be the killer’s handiwork--macabre sculptures made from corpses--their faces distorted in fatal agony. Sybil’s button eyes widen as she comes to a realization!

The Corpse-Art Killer!” She exclaims! Yea, that’s what the newspaper said, alright. The doll shakes its head vigorously.

“Stan, The Corpse-Art Killer was never caught--This place… This place must be his LAIR!” The doll turns its head your way, a serious look on its face. “Do you know what this means?”

That we’re gonna have to tangle with a serial killer now? Sybil shakes her head. “It means we can solve the case! This podcast episode will KILL!”

“AFTER we let da’ cops know, right?” Ly interjects, swooping in between you two.
“Sure, of course!” Sybil replies, “Afterwards...”

Wait, wha?

“After the SKELETON APOCALYPSE of course!” The doll explains in a rushed tone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do--see if there’s any more dirt!” Sybil looks over in Art’s direction where he’s doing his damndest to open the meat locker.

“Keep it up, Arthur!”

The goon shoots a thumbs up your way, then returns to his task while Sybil gestures impatiently for you to keep going.

“Well don’t just stand there… What else is in there?!”

Okay, okay, SHEESH. Thumbing through the articles one more time, your hands rest on a folded note near the back. Unfolding it you come face to face with a letter written in the same handwriting that was on the envelope!

“READITREADITREADIT” Sybil chants feverishly, her eyes almost too big for her head! Alright, hold your HORSES!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4700602
To Detective Jay Perez: Congratulations--the game is now over.

You blink. Who the hell is that?

“Probably the chief investigator--KEEP GOING!” Snarls Syb, her doll hovering an inch away from your face!

Did you enjoy following my trail of breadcrumbs? The package in the Police Station Evidence Locker? The sunken chest off the coast? The riddle in the forest cabin? That DEVIOUS puzzle in the tunnel by the old lighthouse? You must have, otherwise you would have never known that The Corpse Art Killer, as you call me, was right under your noses for over thirty years.

Huh. Guess you skipped a few.

I suppose this can be considered my confession... And a will. I, Jed F. Slauson, was the visionary behind those riveting sculptures. What started as a mere compulsion one night at my butcher shop became my calling--their meat had betrayed them in life, so it was my choice--my WILL--to honor them in death...

And honor them I did. I remember them all like childhood memories--flashbulb scenes burned into my retinae. I can not, nor will I ever forget my works of art.

You should know that my first victim was not premeditated. It was a hot Summer night--one where your shirt clings to your back--and he came in when I was cleaning up.

Like an itch in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but notice how grotesque the man was--bulbous nose, multiple chins, sweat dripping from his wiry hair. Anyone else that night would do, but it was him.


You skip through a few more paragraphs about his victims, ignoring the look Syb’s giving you.

You, Detective, were my finest victim. I was there when you responded to your first call--where you first took my bait. I was there at your partner’s funeral--she had the most beautiful collarbone... I was there for your son’s eleventh birthday, caked in a clown’s greasepaint. And now? Now here we are: two old, tired men ruminating on our life’s work. Was it worth it?

You don’t even want to read this anymore--it’s getting awkward! Your complaint is answered by an arm stump punching the side of your head, promptly urging you to continue.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4700605
This letter is growing long and our time is running short--when my business associate told me someone was coming to ‘install a new router’, I knew our dance was coming to an end and you were reaching the end of the trail.

Regrettably there will be no final confrontation, no arrest, no standoff at gunpoint… My body failed me long before you found this letter and I feel myself growing weak.

Perhaps you are feeling something similar? Has age slowed your mind down, or is it fatigue? Maybe it’s both… That and my final gift to you: a permanent fixture in my museum. By the time you read this message, gas will have finished quietly flooding the room--it’s too late to retreat now.


You jump at the last line--GAS?! Frantically scanning the room for the source, your eyes fall upon a maze of pipes on the ceiling--their nozzles silently pumping the room with Jed’s final gift!

“Arthur, Stan, HURRY!” Sybil shouts, making a beeline for the exit! Confused, Art joins your group as you scamper for the exit--no time to lose, you’re feeling weak already!

>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of three rolls. Live or die, make your choice.
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>4700606
>Roll 1d100 to escape--I’ll take the best of three rolls. Live or die, make your choice.
Hmmmm, we still have some candy right? Can we use it to gunk up the vents?
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>4700606
>>
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>>4700610
You used most of the CANDY in your fight with ROCKY, but don't worry, you should have a bag or two le--

Oh DAMN IT! She ate the rest between updates! You animal!
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>4700606
I still have to catch up on the reading now that I'm free but I see we need a good roll so here goes nothing!
>>
Sorry folks, started feeling kinda funky in the last hour--if I feel up to it I'll write some updates later tonight, otherwise I'll write an update by tomorrow 3-4PM PST.
>>
>>4700781
Not a problem DemBones, take care of yourself and thanks for running!
>>
Took a nap, made dinner, had a beer--think we're ready to roll here.

>>4700610
>>4700621
>>4700714
>Highest Roll: 81

Writing!
>>
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You hold your breath as you tackle the metal door and send it screeching off of its hinges! Not expecting it to give way, you tumble to the floor in a heap, absorbing most of the landing with your face!

“Good hustle, cupcake!” Ly says, raising a spectral thumb your way!

Art comes huffing behind you as you take a few gulps of fresh air--that was TOO close!

“...Was it?” Sybil asks, turning towards the mess of pipes in the butcher shop. Well you almost died reading an info-dump so yea, it KINDA WAS.

“Good thing…” Art pants, bent over his knees, “...I have a gas mask…”

Hey, yea! What was HE so worried about? The operator shrugs.

“I uh… I just panicked and went with what everyone else was doing...”

Typical Art. Shaking your head, you look down and find Sybil gone from your pocket! Scanning the room, you find her peering into one of the pipes! Don’t do it--you’ll get poisoned!

“Not to worry--I don’t think anyone’s in danger of getting poisoned today…” The doll turns around and raps the side of the pipe with her arm stub a few times creating a hollow ‘THUD’.

“Empty. Seems like it’s been that way for ages.” You reenter the room and frown--so what, you almost botched a roll for nothing?

“Indeed. We’d be in hot water if we showed up a few years earlier, though.” The doll replies, taking in the sights. “Odd… No sign of the echo any more.”

In that case… Now what? Ly and Syb respond with a shrug as you gather the LETTER’S contents and stuff them into your pockets.

“Assuming there are no more surprises, we can try searching this workshop for more things of interest.” Sybil suggests.

“You can also help me with this meat locker!” Art quips, pointing at the large steel door in the corner! “Thing won’t budge and I’m not wasting my grenade on that!”

What do?
>Let’s SEARCH this place--maybe there’s some more cool stuff!
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4700977
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
Lets see whats up
>>
>>4700977
>Come on Art, let’s OPEN that LOCKER!
It can be any harder than our locker back in high school!
>>
>>4700988
>>4701022
Looks like we're crackin' that shit! Writing!
>>
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Art’s right--no sense in wasting a grenade on something lame like a door. You’ll just pop it open with your BONE CLAWS!

“Awesome. I’ll uh… I’ll get it ready for ya.” Art replies helpfully. As you approach the meat locker door, Sybil frowns from your pocket.

“Be on your guard--we might be in for one last surprise!”

The three of you (four if you count Ly) nod, and as Art pulls on the door’s handle you slice through the deadbolt causing the door to swing open with a ear-piercing shriek! You and your pals brace for battle, but the only thing that attacks you is the putrid stench of a long-rotten corpse…

Nose burning from the stench, you quickly cup your hand over it and wince--GRODY!

“L-Look!” Sybil shouts, pointing towards the meat locker! Enduring the stench, you turn your attention to the locker. What you see is… Well, not what you expected.

“You’re JOKING...” Art whimpers, admiring the locker with you. Amidst a forest of dirty meat hooks and old, unidentifiable slabs of meat sits an ancient armchair, its cushions bent inwards from something, or someONE sitting in it for a very VERY long time. A pile of books and several pill bottles lay strewn about the chair caked in some sort of liquid coming from the chair’s upholstery.

“Criminy…” Ly remarks.

That’s not the worst part, though--the gold medal, you think, goes to the man-sized hole torn through the roof of the locker, the light of day shining through it. That and a mural similar to the one outside, albeit fresher and written in an ink you know very well…

“Blood.” Sybil whispers, taking it all in. Yea, that was your second guess!

Dark, soupy viscera stains the wall of the locker with words written in the same neat handwriting you saw on the letter:

I AM BORN AGAIN.

Shit.

“You can say THAT again…” Art sighs, pointing his gun at the hole.

“Could that have been the echo I detected?” Sybil asks, a disturbed look on her face. “Did someone raise him, or was it an accident?”

“Whatever da’ answer is, I ain’t keen on stickin’ around much longer!” Ly answers. “Hope dat’ van guy doesn’t pick up any hitchhikers…”

Your pals are right--you’ve definitely worn out your welcome here, not to mention the host has apparently left.

What’s the plan?
>Let’s find that VAN guy--he might be in DANGER!
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
>WRITE-IN
Last update of the night. Will probably update tomorrow around 9-10AM or 3-4PST. Apologies again for the erratic updates!
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
Is this almost definitely a bad idea?
Yes.
Am I still going to vote for it?
Yes.
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s find that VAN guy--he might be in DANGER!
>>
>>4701072
+1
>>
>>4701068
>Let’s SEARCH the room! Maybe we can find some stuff!
>>
>>4701072
>>4701175
>>4701399
>Scavenging!

>>4701161
>To the van!

Happy Friday, everyone! Writing!
>>
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You shake your head disappointedly at Ly’s eagerness to leave--has he learned nothing since this all began?

“Oh I’ve learned boatloads.” Ly replies, “The biggest lesson being dat’ everything wants us dead, so less talkin’, more scrammin’!”

Not before you search the joint! If anything, this is the safest time to loot--the owner of the place is gone, that’s like ‘Thievery 101’!

“Stan’s right--our driver should know not to pick up strange skeletons. We should hurry, though!.” Sybil interjects from your pocket. With that you and your companions spread out and start grabbing things like it was Black Friday!

Most of the good stuff seems to be gone--most of it lost to time, mold, or a mixture of both. That doesn’t mean you don’t find anything good, though!

A few minutes later, you all reconvene in the center of the butcher shop and spread your findings out on the floor like a picnic. Hey, just like your dream!

“You dreamt too?” Art asks, looking your way, “At the school I dreamt I was being chased by a cartoon cat with a hammer. Pretty freaky.”

“I’d prefer it if we shared dreams later, if that’s alright.” Syb remarks. “Preferably in the van.”

Probably for the best--they wouldn’t get the full intricacies of your dream if you had to rush it! That settled, you take stock of what you and your gang of misfits managed to rustle up!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702172
First up is a THICK BOOK with a DUSTY COVER. Blowing the debris away, you take a closer look at the title: A Butcher’s Guide to Carving. Huh.

“You should be able to make use of this, Stan!” Sybil reports, a confident grin on her face! “I read the first five chapters and they seem to detail ‘weak points’ in bones that butchers use to carve animals! Lots of diagrams, too!”

You nod, that does sound useful as long as you have time for reading… Wait, FIVE chapters?! We searched for like…. Two whole minutes!

“Yes… And?” The doll asks, genuine confusion on her face. Shaking your head, you move on to the next trinket.

Second is a STRANGE DEVICE with SEVERAL TINY NOTCHES in it bordered by SCRAPE-COVERED METAL. Okay, who picked THIS CRAP up?
“Uh… Guilty.” Art mumbles, raising his hand. Care to explain? “It’s a knife sharpener, Stan. You can use it to sharpen knives.”

You respond with an eye roll. Knives are always sharp--redundant much? Art massages his temples as Ly and Sybil sigh. What? What are you wrong about THIS TIME?!

“Stan, knives grow dull.” Art explains. “This thing keeps ‘em sharp. I thought you could use it for your claws, I could use it for THIS GUY.”

The operator produces a GRISLY SERRATED BLADE with a HIP SHEATHE. “Figured I could use a knife.”

Okay, gotta admit that thing sounds pretty useful. Giving Art a nod of approval, you move on to item #3: a pile of shrink-wrapped meat!

“Let me guess, you found this, didn’t you?” Art asks, unable to look away. What? They’re field rations!

“I’m afraid even I can’t verify what type of meat that is…” Sybil reports, staring at your findings with disgust.

Fine, more for YOU then!

Your impromptu session of Show and Tell over, you quickly gather up your new items!

You have obtained a BOOK ON CARVING. Reading this might give you PERMANENT BONE-USES!
You have obtained a KNIFE SHARPENER. You can sharpen your claws ONCE A DAY--they’ll become more damaging for a whole encounter!
You have obtained MEAT RATIONS. It’s FOOD. What, did these jerks never eat a HOT DOG before? They’re probably made of the same thing!


>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702174
Packing your new belongings into your pockets, your team goes quiet as you hear the sound of wheels approaching up above! Large ones!

“Guess that’s our guy…Hopefully.” Art remarks. Resisting the urge to leap to the surface through the hole in the meat locker, you make your way up and out of the arcade where DA VAN awaits! Leaning on it is a stout greaser skeleton idly running a switch comb through his hair! As you approach he shoots you a good-natured grin and throws his arms open welcoming you!

HAULIE PAULIE THEME https://youtu.be/DRjhdqd3xew
“Stanley Parble in da’ flesh! Name’s Haulie Paulie and you and I is gonna be good friends, I can already tell!”

Hey, you like this guy already! You give the skeleton a firm handshake as Art runs his hand over the van, inspecting it.

“Good as new, I swear!” Paulie reports, crossing his heart. “I treated her like she were my own--no bumps, no scratches, nothin’ but horsepower!”

The skeleton slaps the keys to the van in your hand, then eagerly scans the area.

“So where’s the wheels you wanted picked up? Same deal--no bumps, no scratches, no prob..lem.” The skeleton’s pep deflates a bit as you clasp the UNICORN KEYRING in his hand. It’s uh… It’s over there.

Paulie follows your outstretched finger to THE STEED. A noise akin to a small rodent being deflated escapes from his mouth, but the greaser quickly recovers.

“Hey alright--they don’t call me Haulie Paulie for nothin’! I’d even haul my mother’s ashes if I was asked to! And I was!”

The skeleton nudges you in the ribs a few times, letting out some hollow laughter. Wow,Haulie Paulie has some issues, huh?

“Da’ only issue I’ve got is too much free time!” The greaser replies! “You tune ta’ CHANNEL 10 on da’ radio and I’ll be there! Say, you got any PONGOS?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“You mean those collectible disk things from the 90’s?” Art asks, looking up from the van. Paulie nods!

“Exactly! Just found out about ‘em myself--all da’ guys did! Tell ya what--you track any down, save ‘em for ole’ Paulie--I’ll give ya stuff in return, dig? Weapons, duds, you name it!”

PONGOS. You’ve got it! With an energetic salute, Haulie Paulie makes for the scooter.

“Well if nothin’ else, I’ll be seein’ ya, kid! Good luck wit’ da’ Rent-A-Cops!”

Hey wait, anything else you’d like to do before he leaves?!
>Let him leave--you’ve gotta get to work!
>Wait! Tell me more about PONGOS.
>Hold it! What kind of stuff are you peddling?
>Halt! How are the other greasers doing?
>Freeze! What are the roads like?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4702178
>Wait! Tell me more about PONGOS.
>Hold it! What kind of stuff are you peddling?
>Halt! How are the other greasers doing?

Also let's not forget when we do leave to bring up the amulet that we found in the principal's desk to Sybil
>>
>>4702329
Writing!
>>
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You raise your hand in the air and let out a commanding HALT before Haulie Paulie can haul ass--you’ve got some questions you need answering!

“Here we go…” Art mutters under his breath.

“Hey yea, no problem!” Paulie chuckles, turning around to face you with a practiced grin! “I thought you guys were in a hurry, but I’ve got all da’ time in da’ world--anything’s better than gettin’ da Drive-In set up!”

You feel that--moving’s theWORST. You pals nod in assent. Hey, speaking of--how’s all that going, anyways? How are the greasers dealing with uh… The management shift?

Paulie shrugs, dragging the comb through his hair again. “If it was anyone else runnin’ da show, we’d be havin’ a civil war on our hands, dig? Cliff, though, dat’s a sight for sore eyes! He just started callin’ shots again an’ everyone kinda fell in! S’like he hasn’t missed a beat, dig?”

Yea, you dig. Cliff’s got that quality about him. Paulie nods in agreement.

“You get it, doll. Anyways, da’ school’s a pile of burnin’ rubble now which is an improvement in my book, but not exactly clubhouse material, dig? So now we’re headed back to da’ Drive-In for da’ long haul.”

“Understandable. It’s defensible, isolated. Not a bad base of operations.” Sybil nods from your pocket.

“Dat’s Cliff’s thinkin’. There’s a few more stragglers ta’ convince, yea, but most of da’ guys are headed up that way. We figure if Rocky’s Boss visits we can use da’ destroyed school as an excuse.”

“You really think that’s gonna work?” Art asks.

“It’d better, because otherwise we’re all as good as bone dust!” Paulie shivers. “Anywho, Stripes told me ta’ remind you dat’ he’d give ya’ a call if they needed anything. Otherwise, well… You’re always welcome to da’ housewarmin’ party!”

Recognition flashes in Paulie’s eyes. “Say… Now dat’ I think about it, you’re probably gonna be wanderin’ around town a lot, yea?”

You nod--you were Bone to Roam!

“Tell ya what… We’ve got a shoppin’ list goin’ for da’ housewarmin’ party--you take a look at it and if you find a lot of da’ stuff on there, you call me, dig?”

Paulie produces a list from his jacket pocket with a short list of party supplies:
>Booze
>Cigarettes
>Hair Pomade
>Vinyl Records

Studying it for a moment, you look back at Paulie--what’s in it for you?

“Well for starters, you’ll be makin’ da’ party happen.” The skeleton elaborates, straightening a low-hanging hair from his pompadour. “Second, I can probably track down somethin’ ta’ pay you with. Somethin’ good!

You grin--you do like good things!

“Course ya’ do. We need a lot of da’ stuff, dig? Not just a bottle a’ malt liquor!”

Yea, yea… Stuffing the SHOPPING LIST into your pocket you feel another question forming in your brain…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702551
These aforementioned ‘good things’--what exactly are they? Paulie grins like an angler with a bite on the line!

“Was hopin’ you’d ask, doll! Bein’ Haulie Paulie has some benefits--I’m kinda da’ go-getter for everyone in da’ gang, dig? Dat’ means I get my hands on some nifty tools.”

Such as? You ask, tapping your foot on the pavement.

“Off da’ top of my head: WHEELS. TUNEUPS. HEATERS--got a whole bunch of ‘em from some of da’ general’s guys pawnin’ ‘em off…”

“Weapons could be nice!” Art interjects, clearly interested.

“I knew you’d like dat’, big guy!” Paulie replies, winking towards the Rent-A-Cop. “Got some DUDS too--you seem comfortable in your digs already, but if you’re ever lookin’ ta’ LEATHER up or maybe get some ARMOR, well…”

Well what? This all sounds too good to be true!

“I got good news--it IS true!” Paulie boasts! “I got clothes, I got guns, I even got some MAGIC TRINKETS from those freaks that hang around da’ sea witch! Once you scrounge up some PONGOS you gimme a call and I’ll whip up a quick catalogue for ya--stocks tend ta’ change a lot. Turns out runnin’ a business durin’ wartime is pretty hectic!” The skeleton chuckles!

“What if we want something specific?” Sybil asks, eyes lit up. “Can you get it?”

“Sure!” Paulie grins, puffing out his bony chest! “Haulie Paulie can get ya’ anything! Special orders take time, though--you put one in and I’ll pull overtime trackin’ it down for ya.”

The skeleton’s eye sockets turn serious for a moment.

“You’d better have da PONGOS though. Dose’ first, then I work, dig?”

You dig.

“Great!” The skeleton cheers, his jolliness returning. “Catch me later and I’ll get ya’ a menu!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702556
That settled, one last question nips at the back of your head… PONGOS. Why?

The skeleton looks at you like you just asked what color the sky is. “You… You don’t know about PONGOS?”

“Come on, Stan, really?” Art chides, shaking his head at you. “How old are you anyways?”

You’re TWENTY, damn it! But don’t let that fool you! Art recoils slightly, most likely out of surprise.

“Twenty? Could have sworn you were like… Eighteen… At least that would explain some things.”

Yea yea, you’re very mature for your age. Keep talking--what are these PONGO things?

“Imagine, if you will: tradin’ cards,” Paulie begins. “Tradin’ cards wit’ every cartoon, sports team, band, an’ everything else dat’ matters in life printed on ‘em an’ all mixed together!”

Sounds like it would get confusing. You were never really into trading cards, but your brother liked the baseball ones!

“Now imagine they’re all CIRCULAR!” Paulie continues, a gleam in his eye sockets! “An’ even better, you play a game with em’ where you try ta’ knock down a tower! Winner gets whatever one they want!”

“It certainly scratches that gambling itch.” Sybil remarks, listening in on the explanation.

“Exactly! It’s like a card game where ya’ don’t gotta learn all da’ rules! You just collect em’!”

Okay, you’re starting to see the appeal here, but is Paulie saying that these PINGAS are still around? Sounds like something you’d only find in one of those Mom & Pop Thrift Stores.

“I thought so too, but get dis: da’ minute one of da’ guys brought them around and started talkin’ about ‘em, they started showin’ up EVERYWHERE!” Paulie shouts! “I bet you’ll start seein’ em around right after dis’ conversation!”

“So how much are each of them worth, anyways?” Art asks.

“One PONGO is one PONGO until I appraise it.” Paulie answers. “If you’ve got one I really like, I’ll count it as more! If you’re only dealin’ wit’ me then I got no reason ta’ swindle ya’!”

Damn straight. Looks like you’ll have to keep an eye out from now on, then!

“I’m excited for ya!” Paulie chuckles, “If I could go back to da’ time before I knew about PONGOS and experience it again, I’d do it! No questions asked!”

Paulie adopts a surprised face as he seems to remember something. Rummaging around in his pocket, he pulls out a small velvet sack stamped with the most 90’s Letter P you’ve ever seen!

“Take it--you’ll need somethin’ ta carry ‘em around in!”

Stuffing the PONGOS POUCH in your pocket, you nod--guess that’s all for now!

Right?

>THAT’S IT. Thanks, Paulie!
>One more QUESTION (WRITE-IN)!
>>
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, APARTMENT, and SCOOTER 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 FADED BOTTLE OF PILLS
>1 CHINCHILL PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN (ABOUT 8 SHOTS)
>1 .38 REVOLVER (12 Shots)
>1 STRANGE AMULET (Found in principal’s office)
>1 RADIO (CHANNEL 9 FOR TRIO!)
>1 STETHOSCOPE
>1 BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL
>1 ROLL OF BANDAGES
>1 BOTTLE OF ‘PAIN-PUFFZ: PAINKILLERS FOR KIDS!’
>1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!
>1 ADDRESS (Given by ART)
>1 PACK OF TISSUES
>1 PACK OF CLOVE CIGARETTES
>1 MENU FOR ANDRE’S STEAKHOUSE
>1 SCOOTER KEY (GIVEN TO PAULIE)
>1 KITTY BIKE HELMET
>1 CLEARWATER MAP
>1 EMPTY SPRAY BOTTLE
>3 GRENADES (1 with ART)
>NEWSPAPERS AND NOTE FROM CORPSE-ART KILLER
>BOOK ON CARVING (UNREAD)
>KNIFE SHARPENER
>3 PACKS OF MYSTERY MEAT
>1 GREASER SHOPPING LIST
>1 PONGOS POUCH (0 PONGOS)
>1 VAN KEY
>>
>>4702561
>THAT’S IT. Thanks, Paulie!
Let's hand him the clove cigarettes as a down payment. From the sound of it he'll need way more pomade and other stuff than we have on us, but clove cigarettes are banned in the US so they're probably like, super special goods.
>>
>>4702568
Writing!
>>
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Yep, that’s it! Giving Paulie a friendly wave as he departs towards your SCOOTER, a thought comes to mind! Rummaging around in your pockets, you pull out the pack of CLOVE CIGARETTES you swiped from the scooter’s storage box. With a casual ‘Hey Paul’, you toss the pack his way.

Unfortunately your aim is totally off and you spike it onto the pavement next to him. Whoops!

“It’s good! It’s good!” Paulie reports, stooping down to grab the smokes. “Oooh, Pjarum Super! Heard about these!” Stuffing the pack into his jacket pocket, the skeleton gives you a good-natured salute and mounts your SCOOTER.

“Won’t forget dis’, doll! Paulie’s got yer’ back!”

Cranking the ignition, you watch as the skeleton departs on your trusty pink eyesore and slowly disappears into the reddish horizon like a very confused cowboy.

“So…” Ly begins, “We ready ta’ go?”

Almost… You still need to decide who’s driving. No more Trio, remember? Art’s eye lenses light up with excitement!

“Ooh, memememe!”

“Good idea--maybe the trip over will be smoother with a Good Boy operative in front?” Sybil muses, looking your way.

“Or,” Ly counters, “It could make us a bigger target… Besides, you’re more skilled when it comes to uh… Rough traffic, right Stan?”

What do you think?
>Let Art Drive
>YOU want to drive!
>LY can drive--you’ll just sit in the seat and look pretty.
>SYB can drive! She uh… Telekinesis? Maybe?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4702669
>Let Art Drive
We get the aux cord/choice of music though
>>
>>4702679
Writing!
>>
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Throwing your arms up in mock exasperation, you sigh--guess Art’s the wheelman this time! The eye lenses of his mask lit up light Christmas Trees, Art gives you an enthusiastic nod!

“Leave it to me! Next stop: Good Boy Security Station: Brookside Street!

You pile into the passenger seat as Art takes the wheel next to you. As he adjusts the seat and mirrors, you fiddle with the radio dial--maybe those Good Boy goons are still using it to communicate!

A minute of static and scratching through the speakers later, you pause as you hear the notes of a familiar song…

https://youtu.be/4b1wt3-zpzQ

Too bad you can’t remember the name.

“I’ll allow it.” Art states, putting his seatbelt on. “But the minute I hear something weird…”

No friggin’ way--you’re the Music Maestro on THIS roadtrip, thanks!

“Shall we go, then?” Sybil asks, worming out of your pocket and floating in the center of the cabin. “I have my doubts that this will be a simple commute…”

“Relax, teach!” Ly sighs, popping out in his Astral Form! “We’ve gotten dis’ far, haven’t we? Just a few more boneheads ta’ go!”

Hey, that’s the spirit! Onward, you shout, pointing forward with your whole arm!

“Hang on to something!” Art chuckles, cranking the ignition!

DA VAN rockets forward with its suped-up engine, taking out a power line as Art struggles to regain control! A few moments later (and an apology from Art) your team is once again on the road towards certain peril!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702774
Settling back into the leather seat, you hear something jingle inside of your pockets. Stuffing your hand past your CHINCHILL SHOTGUN, the GRENADES, and your BOOK ON CARVING, your fingers wrap around the perpetrator--that STRANGE AMULET you stole from the principal’s office!

Fishing it from your inventory, you hold it up in the rust-colored sunrise and examine it closer. With its gold finish and shape it almost looks like a badge, but the chain around it and the designs carved into the front tell you that it’s probably something else entirely…

“Where did you find that?” Sybil asks, drawing closer to the AMULET. You shrug--it was hidden in a secret compartment in a drawer.

“In da’ principal’s office!” Ly adds, bending over to look as well. “Not exactly academic fashion though, is it?”

Sybil shakes her head. “I’m afraid not… I can’t read what’s inscribed, but if I’m not mistaken…”

The doll trails off. She’s hardly ever mistaken--finish the thought!

“Druidic runes. I’m almost certain of it.”

You’re not driving, so you politely ask Art to slam on the brakes dramatically.

“No.” He replies, putting the van’s turn signal on as he maneuvers around a toppled ice cream truck.

“This is…” Sybil continues, bringing the amulet closer to her doll, “There’s no doubt about it--there’s something emanating from this trinket!”

Is it radioactive? Double the super powers!

“No, I don’t think so. There’s a very faint pulse, however… I can barely sense it!”

Great, add it to the pile of shit you don’t understand. The doll pokes the amulet a few times, then turns to you.

“I’ll fiddle with it a bit--with luck we can get something out of it!”

“Uh, guys?” Art asks, clearly trying to get your attention.

So should you… You know… Wear it?

“I don’t think so.” Sybil responds. “For all we know it could remove all the moisture from your body or teleport you to another plane of existence.”

“Guys?” Art repeats.

Yea, what’s up? You ask, somewhat flustered.

“Do uh… Do you guys hear that?”

It takes you a moment over the van’s engine, but once you do you can’t ignore it--down the street to your right you hear the unmistakable sound of TANK TREADS...

And they’re coming THIS WAY!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4702776
Before you can react, Art pulls the van behind a nearby fruit cart and kills the engine! All of you sink in your seats as the sound grows louder… And CLOSER!

You don’t have to wait much longer for your curiosity to be sated--the familiar shape of a tank barrel appears from down the street attached to military hardware right out of World War II!

“A Roosevelt!” Art hisses, sinking lower in his seat! Before you can ask him to elaborate, the rest of the tank appears from around the corner! Protected by crude welded-on spikes, the tank resembles something you’d see at the Reptile House at the zoo…

What really worries you is the large mounted machine gun by the entrance hatch manned by a very pissed-off skeleton wearing a tattered olive army kit! Riding on the sides are three other skeletons, each wearing similar fatigues and helmets. Naturally all of them are armed--sub-machine guns hang limply at their sides along with several grenades.

SHIT!” Arthur hisses as the tank continues forward.

“Don’t worry,” Sybil says, her voice shaking ever so slightly, “They haven’t seen us yet!”

“She just had ta’ say ‘yet’, didn’t she...” Mutters Ly. Art rapidly glances between you and the soldiers unsure of what to do!

“Should we wait? Back up? Should… Should we… Make a detour?” Art stutters, gesturing towards the side of the road at a nearby GAS STATION. You frown--not a lot of room to maneuver on this block!

>Let’s WAIT here--they might just drive by!
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
>Let’s CUT THROUGH THE GAS STATION. A bit risky, but it could get us out of here quick!
>WRITE-IN
Last update of the night, but I'll check in TOMORROW around 10am PST! Thanks again for playing and have a good weekend if I don't see ya!
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
Its probably on a patrol route, we should double back and cut through where it came from.
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s BACK UP--we can double back and escape!
>>
>>4702780
>Let’s WAIT here--they might just drive by!
IIRC I think the GBDB logos were wiped off, so we'll just look like an abandoned car. Let's do that thing in movies where everyone lowers their seat as far back as it goes and lies down above the window's sight level and just wait for them to pass- they probably won't waste ammo on a random car.

If we do see them shooting around for funsies and blowing stuff up however then let's double back and escape to be safe
>>
>>4702988
below the window's sight level*
>>
>>4702794
>>4702833
>Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged!

>>4702988
>Hiding in plain sight!

Writing!
>>
The whole street is lined with businesses--no way you’re darting into an alley here! You’re fairly sure there was another route behind you, though--as long as you can make it there…

“They’re coming dis’ way!” Ly hisses, pointing at the approaching tank! No time to suss it out anymore--let’s head backwards and loop around!

“Got it!” Art nods, putting the van in reverse!

“Carefully now…” Sybil warns, “We don’t want to draw their attention!”

>Roll 1d100 to slip away! I’ll take the best of 3!
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>4703242
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>4703242
I'm feelin' lucky!
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>4703242
>>
>>4703254
>>4703255
>>4703270
>Highest roll: 65
Tanks for the rolls--writing!
>>
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With cool poise, Art quietly takes the van backwards as the tank begins to round the corner! He has to go FASTER!

Art doesn’t say anything. Drifting backwards like a ghost, he deftly takes the van back and around the nearest corner just as the tank trundles onto the street you were just on! You ride quietly in reverse for a while as Art carefully weaves between burned-out car husks and torn up road--did… Did that just happen?

“You bet it did.” Art boasts quietly. One three-point-turn later the road trip is BACK ON free of all tanks! Rolling down your window and letting your fingers hang out, you glance at the driver--gotta say, that was pretty slick!

“Well, they picked me as the van driver for a reason!” Art replies, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

Sybil glows for a moment, then looks at the two of you. “I’m not reading a tank anywhere nearby--either they aren’t following us or I’m losing my touch…”

“Let’s hope it’s da’ first one, then!” Ly remarks. “Almost forgot about da’ other skeletons--not just greasers out there anymore!”

Sybil nods. “Especially in Central Clearwater--something important is there, that’s for sure, but we won’t find out what without going through those soldiers…”

Yea, not happening. At least not right now. Even without that tank those guys were all packing heat--something tells you they aren’t gonna be like the greasers.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a large object swooping low over your van--looking upwards you see a colossal flying beast twisting upwards into the blood-red sky with its boney wings! Oh crap, you forgot about those!

“They don’t seem too interested in things on the ground…” Sybil muses. “All the same, we should be careful when walking around in open areas!”

Art nods. “Don’t have to tell me twice…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703343
The rest of the ride goes rather smoothly--despite having to dodge several skeleton soldier roadblocks and a particularly NASTY pothole, your trip to West Clearwater proves to be rather uneventful!

“Good think we lost that tank!” Art sighs, “Maybe we can actually pull this off!”

Well not if you jinx it like that! Before you know it the van pulls into familiar territory--yep, there’s the playground you lost your tooth in! Finding a suitable parking spot, Art stops the van and turns to face you, Syb, and Ly.

“Alrighty.” He begins with a serious tone, “The Security Station’s just down the street--concrete eyesore, can’t miss it. How do we wanna crack this egg?”

Depends! Didn’t he say he could get us in? Art squirms in his seat a bit.

“Well…. Maybe. There’s a BACK ENTRANCE where a lot of the guys used to smoke, but that’s fenced off and might have cameras.”

“What about the FRONT?” Sybil interjects, “Maybe they’ll let us in if it’s just Arthur driving?”

The Rent-A-Cop nods. “I’m sure they’d ask who I was, but I could always say I escaped capture or something…”

Heh, as if. The operative shoots a glance your way.

“You have a better idea?”

Maybe! You could have him DISTRACT the guards while you sneak in--or HE could be the one doing the spy work…

Not one to be forgotten, your skeleton’s Astral Projection pops his head through the base of the van.

“Just scoped da’ place out. TWO GOONS IN FRONT guardin’ da’ parking area, TWO mannin’ a checkpoint INSIDE. Saw ONE GUY SMOKIN’ in da’ back, but dat’s it.”

What about the rooms? Did he catch what’s in ‘em?

“Ehh. There’s a control room and an armory-type place, but besides that nothin’. Oh, there’s an elevator for da’ parkin’ area, though!”

“In that case…” Art begins, “What’s the plan?”

>SNEAK IN through the BACK.
>Have ART TROJAN HORSE into the PARKING STRUCTURE
>DISTRACTION! Someone can mess around in front while you SNEAK IN!
>SYB, you have any MAGIC we can use?
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4703346
>WRITE-IN
>SYB, you have any MAGIC we can use?

First things first, we head to the front where there's apparently less cameras and knock out those two guards. Let's try not to kill 'em if possible.

Then we can put on their outfits and have Syb use that glamour spell she used back at the diner to make us look the rest of the way like one of the guards.

We go in and get what we need. If anyone sees or asks about Art, we cover for him as supposedly one of those guards up front.
>>
>>4703346
>SNEAK IN through the BACK.
Send in art to distract this dude, shouldn't be difficult. that or >>4703352
>>
>>4703352
>>4703390
Gonna leave this open a little longer just in case. Otherwise I'll roll for the tiebreaker!
>>
>>4703390
>>4703444
Just changing my vote to >>4703352
>>
>>4703352
>>4703475
The ole' switcharoo! Writing!
>>
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The plan is simple, you begin, giving your pals a conspiratorial look. STEP ONE: We deal with the guards out front. Quietly, if possible!

“Following so far…” Art nods.

STEP TWO: Take their outfits and walk in like we own the place!

“Do uh… Do I need a new one?” Art asks, cocking his head to the side. “I mean… It’s not like we have name tags or anything…”

“He’s right. Quite the oversight on Good Boy’s part.” Sybil adds. You shake your head vigorously--if we’re gonna pull this off we’re following the plan TO THE LETTER. Art’s getting new armor, damn it!

“Okay, sheesh!” The operative responds, raising his hands defensively. “What’s next?”

If we want to be 100% bullet-proof, Syb will have to use that glandular spell or whatever from when you went to the diner.

“The glamor spell?” Syb asks, looking at you. “I can do that, sure, but I’ll have to recharge for a while afterwards…”

“Speaking of magic,” Art interjects, “What spells DO you have, Syb?”

Hey, that’s a good point--you never really got the menu! The doll cocks its head to the side and you can almost hear the sound of papers rustling in the background.

Oh boy, here we go.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703542
“Well…” She begins, “You’ve already seen GLAMOR. I can change someone’s image to something else, but it doesn’t last for more than an hour or so. I believe I can use it once a day… Twice tops.”

“Makes sense.” Ly nods, “Pretty useful spell!”

“Next,” Syb continues, “Is Arctic Blast: I can cast a cone of sub-zero temperature in front of me, but it takes a moment to cast.”

Sounds cool. Art resists the urge to punch you, then motions for Syb to continue.

“Third is Shocking Grasp.” Syb explains, a spark of electricity passing along her button eyes. “Anything touching me gets a jolt. Not exactly deadly in this form,” She remarks, gesturing to the doll, “But it can knock out machines and wake people up!”

Good so far… Anything else?

“Well there’s Arcane Bolt.”

Oh yea, you got a peek of that when she almost vaporized Art back at the apartment. Good times!

“...And Clairvoyance.” Sybil concludes. “Those two I can practically use at will. I’ve been using the latter all day, but can only focus on one thing at a time, as you know.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Art begins in a tone that will definitely be taken the wrong way, “But I would have expected you to have a bigger uh… Skill set.”

You blink, just barely catching a flash of red in Sybil’s eyes.

“Unfortunately this doll can only channel so much magic…” Sybil explains. “In person I can be much more creative, but with this I’m afraid I have to simplify…”

Hey, that’s okay, you say, patting the doll on the head! She coulda’ told you more about her powers earlier, though!

“... You never asked.”

Well then.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703546
Fucking formatting.

“In that case,” Art begins, “Why don’t we try to knock out the guys out front first? We’ll do the glamor once things are settled--hell, we might not even have to change form if we play our cards right!”

Yea RIGHT. They’re just gonna accept a girl security guard? No way, Jose!

“Actually, uh…” Art responds, “There’s quite a few girls on staff. Not sure how you didn’t pick up on that before.”

You’re there during the graveyard shift, sheesh! Anyways, we’ll crush that bridge when we get to it--for now let’s take care of the goons!

Your team nods and after a quick ‘Hands In, GO TEAM’, you break! You, Syb, and Ly disembark while Art backs the van into a nearby alley.

“Hope that’s enough!” Ly quips as Art hops out of the driver’s seat and locks it. Guess it’ll have to be!

Rejoined by the Rent-A-Cop, your merry band creeps down the block and crouches near some bullet-riddled concrete barriers. Up ahead you see the concrete eyesore Ly was talking about--if you didn’t know better you’d assume this was a bunker. Or the DMV.

“See that? Two guys, one camera in the entrance!” Art hisses, pointing them out for you. A red light above the entry door tips you off about the camera--the goons are easy enough to find idling in front of a folding steel gate and a rising door which you assume to be the parking garage entrance.

The buildings around the security station are squat--if needed you could probably try to climb up to get the drop on them! The ground approach might be a tad trickier--looks like the pavement is clear past the barriers you’re currently hiding behind. Perhaps a DISTRACTION could work?

“Got any bright ideas?” Art asks.

>I’ll get the DROP on them from the roofs--COVER ME.
>ART can DISTRACT them!
>Let’s FIND something to DISTRACT them with--should be something loud around here.
>On second thought, let’s check the BACK entrance.
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4703547
>Let’s FIND something to DISTRACT them with--should be something loud around here.
We've got isopropyl alcohol, always useful for fire
>>
>>4703553
+1 to this, maybe we can start a dumpster fire nearby and get them to panic.

Also let's ask Syb to float up when they're distracted and SHOCKING GRASP the camera so it goes dead.
>>
>>4703547
>ART can DISTRACT them!
>>
>>4703553
>>4703560
>DISTRACTION!

>>4703584
>ART DISTRACTION!

Writing!
>>
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Yes, a DISTRACTION will do just fine, thank you! You snap for Ly’s attention and quietly ask him to find something flammable--preferably close!

“Not like I can jog down da’ block…” Mutters Ly as he soars down the street.

“We’re gonna draw them away?” Art asks, to which you nod. It should be easier to take them down when they aren’t hanging out in front of the station!

“What would you like me to do?” Syb asks, raising a yarn eyebrow. She will be taking down that camera out front with her nifty SPELLS!

“Leave it to me!” The doll replies with a wink! Giving her another pat on the head, your attention turns to Ly as he returns with a huge grin on his face.

“There’s a big dumpster right around da’ corner!” He grins, “You torch that and they’ll have ta’ come runnin’!”

Nodding to Art, the two of you scamper in the direction Ly takes you and quickly reach the dumpster! Not too far down the road you spy a heavy-duty fence covered in barbed wire--most likely the Back Entrance Art mentioned earlier!

“Go on, light it up!” Art hisses excitedly. All in good time!

Fishing through your inventory, you retrieve your ZIPPO LIGHTER and the BOTTLE OF ISOPROPYL ALCOHOL. Gotta add the lighter fluid to the grill first, you say with a smirk!

“Niiiice.” Responds the Rent-A-Cop. While he pops open the dumpster lid, you get to work dousing the trash. Quite a bit of stuff in here for such a small station!

“What can I say--Security Guards eat a lot!” Art explains, holding the lid open. Shrugging, you flick your lighter open and hold it next to a pile of pizza boxes quickly setting them ablaze!

You and Art scurry back to the concrete barricades chuckling like teens playing Ding-Dong-Ditch. You can already smell the smoke by the time you return!

“Wait… Where’s Syb?” Art asks, scanning the area for the doll. Before you can respond, you notice a flicker of movement by the entrance--a small doll hovering in the camera’s blind spot. Shooting you a gesture that you can only assume to be a thumbs up, the doll stands ready--all you can do now is WAIT!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4703690
“...So now she’s all PISSED OFF at me. Won’t even talk to me anymore!”

You and Art sit impatiently as the two guards in front of the station refuse to notice the huge plume of smoke growing around the block. What the HELL, dude!?

“But you still love her, right?” The other guard says, fumbling with their rifle.

“Of course, that’s what I’m saying!” The first one replies, “It’s not like I’m dating someone else--how the hell is that cheating!?”

The fire crackles from underneath the dumpster’s cover, but the two still aren’t moving. Even Syb is looking bored.

“To be fair, it’s called a dating sim for a reason.” Replies the second guard.

“Oh don’t YOU start too! It’s fictional! What, she gets to read her romance comics but I can’t play a game? Fuck that!”

“He has a point…” Art whispers as if you CARE.

“I just hide mine in my ‘Scanned Docs’ folder.” Replies the other guard. “Shelly ain’t gonna look there.”

“See, you’re lucky.” The first guard interjects, “Kim is all over that shit. She has her own computer, but the minute I log out of mine she acts like I’m hiding something!”

Okay, you’re gonna be here all day. Cupping your hands together, you let out your best Whooping Crane impersonation causing the two of them to whip around in your direction!

“That sounded like a Whooping Crane!” Shouts the first guard!

“I thought they were endangered! What a find!” Adds the second!

Before they can investigate further, the second guard finally notices the towering inferno right next to their station!

“Hey… Fire!”

“Probably meant to distract us. Let’s stay here for a bit--it’ll die out.” Replies the other.

“SHIT!” Hisses Art, smacking his fist against the pavement!

As the two prepare to resume their discussion, the first guard looks back at the smoke, concern growing on his masked face (you’ve had a lot of practice observing Art).

“Wait a minute… NO!!!” Before his partner can stop him, the guard sprints around the corner and starts rummaging through the trash!

“Hey, what the--what’s your PROBLEM?!” Huffs the other, chasing after him.

“I was saving some PICKLE CHIPS in here!” Replies Guard #1 frantically! “We’ve gotta save ‘em!”

“... Why were you stashing PICKLE CHIPS?” The second guard asks, holding open the dumpster lid.

“If I had them out here I knew you’d ask for some and you KNOW you never take a handful!” Snaps Guard 1 as he digs through the rubbish!

“You KNOW I have blood sugar problems!” Spits the other guard. “And you coulda’ just told me you didn’t want to share!”

As an argument brews, Art motions for you to follow--looks like this is as good of a time as any!

>Roll 1d100 to knock these goofs out! I’ll take the best of 3 rolls. Remember, describing how you do it can give you BONE-USES!
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>4703693
Holy shit that whole second post had me actually laughing out loud

>Get the TELESCOPING MOP and try to bat them both in the back of the head. Ideally in one strike
>>
Going out for a bit--if I don't return later tonight I'll write you guys an update early Sunday morning around 9-10AM PST! Thanks so much for playing and good luck on the rolling!
>>
Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>4703693
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>4703693
>>
>>4703712
>>4703800
>>4703828
>Highest Roll: 61
Writing!
>>
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Creeping up behind the guards, you and Art take your positions and prepare to strike--him with the butt of his rifle, you with your TELESCOPING MOP!
“Found ‘em!” Goon #1 reports! “They’re still good!”

As he emerges triumphantly with the PICKLE CHIPS, you extend your mop and swing for their heads!

“It WAS a distractio-”

Goon #2 never gets a chance to finish his sentence. Your mop and Art’s rifle connect with both of their helmets simultaneously with a loud DING!

Unfortunately it seems like that’s all it does. Rubbing their heads, the guards turn to face you--what the hell?! You hit their heads!

“You hit our HELMETS.” Guard #1 corrects, cracking his knuckles menacingly. “And now we’re gonna hi-”

Goon #1 never gets a chance to finish his sentence. Your mop and Art’s rifle connect with both of their FACES simultaneously with a loud THUNK!

As the goons slump unconscious, you begin sorting through their gear--both are carrying rifles similar to Art’s, of course, along with a few magazines of ammo. Each guard also carries a RADIO tuned to CHANNEL 3 and a small baton with a button on the side. Intrigued, you press it and marvel as the stick extends and starts buzzing with an electric current!

“They never gave me one of those!” Art pouts, quickly stowing one in his kit along with some more ammo. Shrugging, you pilfer the contents too.

You have obtained N4 RIFLE!/green]
You have obtained RADIO CHANNEL 9 FOR GOOD BOY
You have obtained STUN BATON

With that you begin the painstaking process of undressing your guard--while his fit is nowhere close to your measurements, you quickly don the outfit over your existing clothes. Stuffing your cap in your pockets, you turn to face Art--how the hell does he manage to see out of this thing?!

“I mostly just guess.” Art reports to the wall next to you. “What about these guys?”

You look down at the guards at your feet. Yea, we oughta hide ‘em! You and Art lift and toss the bodies into the dumpsters, then dust your hands off as you walk away.

“Wait a minute…” Art mutters, “Oh. Fire.”

You nod. Fire.

You and Art backpedal back to the dumpster and quickly remove the bodies. Smothering the fire with a grubby half-finished FORTY at the bottom of the dumpster, you and Art lift and toss the bodies into the dumpsters, then dust your hands off as you walk away.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4704236
As you and Art emerge from around the corner in your Security Goon Garb, you’re greeted with the sound of fizzling electronics. A moment later, Sybil peers around the corner and gives you an arm stub up!

How does she know it’s you?

“Lucky guess. Are you both ready for a makeover?”

Art shrugs. “That depends--do we need the glamor? Syb will be out of commission for a while if we do it...”

It could be useful, that’s for sure--looking at the ID Card in your pocket tells you your name is Alfonzo Ricci--something tells you that’s not a girl’s name.

“We can also just say we lost them or something!” Art suggests. “That way we have Syb around in case stuff hits the fan!”

Sybil nods. “I’m prepared for anything you decide on!”

What do?
>GLAMOR us up, please!
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!
>WRITE-IN
Sorry for flubbing formatting again--about to play a Tabletop with some pals so I'll be signing off for tonight. I'll check in tomorrow morning around 9AM PST though!
>>
>>4704238
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!

>the ID Card in your pocket tells you your name is Alfonzo Ricci--something tells you that's not a girl's name
Neither is Stanley babyyyyy we got this no need for the glamor after all

Have fun! See you tomorrow man
>>
>>4704238
>NO THANKS, you can support us in other ways!
We got the disguises, that should be enough. We might need magical support further on.
>>
>>4704238
>GLAMOR us up, please!
>>
Sorry folks, some errands popped up that I have to run today and I probably won't be able to whip up an update until around 1-2PM PST. Apologies for the wait--will leave this vote open until then!
>>
>>4704249
>>4704387
>No Glamor!

>>4704404
>Bippity Boppity Boo, bitch!

Writing!
>>
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You find yourself shaking your head. Syb’s more useful when she’s active, and having her spend all of her energy generating some extra disguises just doesn’t seem worth it in the long run. Besides, you’ve got Art--he’s the one who said he’d get you in!

“Y-yea!” The guard replies, “Count on it!”

You are. You’re about to walk into the lion’s den here, not an R-Rated movie. Stuffing herself into one of the many pouches hanging from your guard uniform, Sybil peeks out one last time and looks your way.

“If something goes wrong, just say ‘Abracadabra’!”

With that you and Art push your way through the doors leading into the Security Station, emerging into what resembles a waiting room at a Dentist’s Office minus the cool toys! Ahead of you is a reception area manned by a lone security goon behind bulletproof glass. The station beyond is blocked off by a barred gate, but the grooves on the ground suggest that it’s made to move if the right button is pressed! You see a similar groove in the floor dividing the checkpoint and the waiting room.

Looking past the bars you notice two sets of elevator doors and hallways trailing to the left and right--hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for through there… If you can get in, that is!

“Just be cool.” Art hisses as the two of you approach the checkpoint. Stepping in front of the reception desk, you stifle a jolt as another gate shuffles from inside the wall behind you and cuts off your retreat--you’re TRAPPED! AAAH!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4705256
“Back from the killing fields, huh?” The receptionist grunts, a feminine voice muffled by the mask on her face. “Helmets off, please.” She recites, barely taking her eyes off of the Water Polo Monthly magazine in front of her.

“Oh! Uhherrr…” Art babbles, instantly losing all of his cool. DAMN IT, ART! You feel the rusty cogs in your brain squeal as they quickly form a plan in your head!

They’re uh… They’re stuck. Can’t get ‘em off! The receptionist looks at you like you just grew antennae.

“...Stuck?”

“Yep!” Art adds, nodding in assent. “Lost our knives in an ambush--been stuck with these things all day!”

The receptionist looks you both up and down for a while, then sighs.

“Wow. That’s like… The twelfth time I’ve heard that today. You guys must be starving.”

You bet we are, you reply, a bit too enthusiastically! The receptionist shrugs.

“No problem. You guys mind opening your coats, please? Gotta make sure you aren’t boney.”

You and Art exchange glances, then unzip your coat-WAIT A MINUTE, THE HOODIE!

As you start to panic, you feel something small and doll-shaped tug your hoodie collar downwards. You unzip just enough to show the receptionist the top of your black tank top who reacts with a satisfied nod.

“Lookin’ good...”

You zip back up as her gaze lingers on your chest, causing the receptionist to glance Art’s way. Underneath your pal’s security outfit is a sweaty black t-shirt with the words Alchemical Beauty Rina emblazoned above a picture of the character you caught him…. examining back when you first met. The receptionist lets out a derisive snort.

“Yea, that’ll do.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>4705258
You and Art share a quick fist-bump as the receptionist writes something down on a piece of paper.

“IDs, please.”

Oh crap--this might be trickier! Your hand closes around the ID you swiped from the guard outside, but do you dare use that one?! Looking at Art’s face you can sense he has similar reservations!

What do?!
>Give her the GUARD IDS and FAKE IT.
>Say you LOST them! What a SHAME!
>Ask HER for HER ID! Take control!
>Get ART to SEDUCE her!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705260
>Give her the GUARD IDS and FAKE IT.
We could try playing it off like we're Trans and the ID is older. Might work if she doesn't know the guy we stole from super well.

Alternatively we could just give it and be like 'Ah crap that's right- I borrowed (what's his name's) uniform cuz I needed to do laundry. Must've had his ID instead- that means mine's in the wash!'
>>
>>4705283
Writing!
>>
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With a cordial nod, you reach into your inventory and slap Alphonzo Ricci’s ID card down, causing Art to somehow sweat THROUGH HIS MASK. You shoot him a look that says “No worries, I’ve got a plan!” But by the way his face looks you’re pretty sure it came out as “AAAAAAAAA”.

The receptionist takes a look at the photo of the bearded man with a darker skin color than you in the photo, then back at you, then back to the photo, then back to…. You get it.

“This uh…” She begins, not sure how to properly express her confusion, “This isn’t you, honey.”

You’ve got a BITE!

You glance down at the ID ever so subtly, then perform the biggest double-take you can muster! Oozing shock and embarrassment, you raise your hands to your cheeks and rapidly shake your head! Oh NO!!

“Oh no?” Art asks, clearly not getting the plan yet.

NOW you remember, you exclaim, slapping your forehead dramatically, you had to do LAUNDRY and you didn’t have any clothes to change into so Alphonzo lent you his! Guess you forgot to give his ID back--silly you!

The receptionist stares at you for a few moments, her steely mask-covered gaze completely unreadable.

“You borrowed his uniform.” She asks, clearly not believing it.

Yep!

“... Despite being able to ask for another from the Quartermaster’s office?”

Yep!

“... And you forgot to give his ID back?”

You betcha.

“... So theoretically he has yours?”

Mmmmmyep.

The receptionist stares you down for a while as if she was trying to melt you. When you don’t sink into the floor, she sighs.

“Fine. Leave his ID here--the lazy bastard can pick it up when he comes back inside.”

The receptionist turns to Art as every nerve in your body relaxes.

“So where’s yours?”

“So I had to do laundry-”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

Pressing a button under her desk, the receptionist returns to her magazine as the bars blocking entrance into the station retract into the wall. With a polite ‘Thank You’, you and Art make your way towards the elevators.

>CONTD.
>>
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“Let’s see…” Art mutters, peering down the hall, “Locker rooms and armory are to the left, the office is to the right....”

Which one should you start with, though? As you and your pal debate where to visit first, a voice rings out from behind you!

“WAIT A MINUTE!”

Instinctively taking cover behind Art, you look behind you at the source of the voice--the receptionist is glaring your way from the Check-In desk!

Y-yes?

“Blumenkrantz changed the code. Now it’s UP, UP, DOWN, CLOSE DOOR.”

“W-which code again?” Art stutters, prompting a derisive sigh from the desk.

“The elevator, genius. Tell Baker to get Mitzi some chips or something when you get there.”

Who the hell is Mitzi? You ask, adjusting your helmet a bit.

“Me, that’s who.” The receptionist fires back, returning to her magazine. You and Art exchange a glance, then jolt as Ly’s glowing skull peeks through the floor!

“STAN--the ELEVATOR!”

Yes, Ly, it goes up and down. Riveting.

“No, there’s….” Your skeleton begins, “I can’t get in! There’s some sort of BARRIER!”

You raise an eyebrow towards Art. Intriguing!

“What is?” He replies. “You talkin’ to Ly again?”

“Are you STILL HERE?!” Growls Mitzi, still preoccupied by the magazine! Whoops, looks like it’s time to start snooping somewhere!

Where to first?
>The LOCKERS and ARMORY! Sounds useful!
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!
>The ELEVATOR! Seems suspicious!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705607
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!

As tempting as more weapons and armor is, we need info first and foremost- especially if we're on a timer until big boy gets here

That elevator is curious too. The fact that it's warded may mean there's some magical fuckshit going on, but we can check that out later
>>
>>4705607
>The OFFICE! Maybe you can hack a computer or something!
>>
>>4705616
>>4705653
OFFICE SPACE it is! Writing!
>>
You motion for Art to follow you down the hall to the OFFICE which he picks up on almost immediately. Starting down the hall, you itch at your neck through the mask--is it always this ITCHY?!

“Yep, and good luck when it fogs up.” Art whispers. The two of you pass a set of restrooms and a Janitor’s Closet before coming to a door at the end of the hall marked with a black plaque above it reading “Office”. Bingo.

Art makes for the door handle, but you stop him. Sensing your intent, Ly pops through the door to the office and returns after a few moments.

“We’ve got a guy.” He reports. “Probably the one who went for da’ smoke break!”

Cursing under your breath, you turn to Art and report what Ly told you.

“Just one?” He responds, rubbing his chin in thought. “I expected more--this just got easier.”

How the hell is it any easier when there’s someone IN THERE? You hiss, pointing at the door.

“This place was an anthill the other night!” Art replies, shrugging. “All we need to do is get that guy out of there--can’t be too tough, right?”

You growl… TYPICAL! You’re gonna need details--it’s kinda hard to see the guy Ly mentioned through a closed wood door… Ly snaps to attention with a quick salute.

“He’s facin’ da’ door,'' He begins, “and he’s got his full kit on. Probably doesn’t plan on bein’ there long!”

It’s a start… Anything else in the room you can use? You ask, leaning against the wall as Art observes with a confused look.

“Lessee.... We’ve got a SPRINKLER SYSTEM ta’ put out fires, FIRE ALARMS, of course, and a BACK DOOR to dat’ area from before. There’s a few COMPUTERS in there too--looks like they need a login.”

You relay the last bit to Art who gives you a thumbs up. “I can help with that! It’ll probably only show my account though…”

You were thinkin’ technical difficulties...You know, a more subtle approach!

“Lastly,” Ly interjects, “We could always tell him someone’s lookin’ for him!”

You nod--all very good options. Relaying the full info to Art, you’re rewarded with a shrug. Fantastic.

What’s the plan?
>PULL the FIRE ALARM! It should get everyone out!
>MESS with a COMPUTER! Maybe the guy can HELP!
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>4705816
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
"Mitzi says to get her chips. It's an emergency. A chipmergency, if you will"
>>
>>4705821
>TALK to the GUY! Or get ART to do it!
+1 to dark blues suggestion
>>
>>4705821
>>4705881
Gonna keep this open til' tomorrow--got work early in the morning. Apologies for the sporadic updates--shit got busy this weekend! Will check in again at 3-4PM PST tomorrow, thanks again for playing!
>>
>>4705886
No problem man, I'm still having an absolute blast! See you tomorrow and hope your week starts off good
>>
>>4705816
This guy has it: >>4705821
>>
>>4705821
>>4705881
>>4705905
MITZI NEEDS HER CHIPS! WRITING!
>>
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As fun as it would be to pull the fire alarm, something tells you that a more subtle approach is required here. Gesturing for Art to follow you, you shove the door to the office open and stroll in like you own the place!

… Or at least like you work at the place. You’ll go with that for now. True to Ly’s word, a lone security goon sits at a nearby terminal clacking away at the keyboard. Surrounding him are several other desks topped with deactivated computers, nondescript paperwork, and two simple drawers at knee height. In the back corner sits a doorway most likely leading to the area outside in the back.

Your grand entrance causes the room’s sole occupant to stop abruptly and look at you and Art like you just interrupted something. Which, you know… You probably did.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his mask barely hiding his annoyed tone. TOUCHY!

>Roll 1d100 + 10 to determine how well you do in convincing him I’ll take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! No, you don’t need glasses--you have NUMERICAL BONE-USES NOW! You get a persuasion bonus for your SLICK OUTFITS, but don’t forget to include what you say or do if it’s any different from “MITZI NEEDS CHIPS!”
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>4706720
>>
Rolled 88 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4706720
>Roll 1d100 + 10 to determine how well you do in convincing him I’ll take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! No, you don’t need glasses--you have NUMERICAL BONE-USES NOW! You get a persuasion bonus for your SLICK OUTFITS, but don’t forget to include what you say or do if it’s any different from “MITZI NEEDS CHIPS!”
She needs some chips.
>>
Rolled 97 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4706720
Using the same line I wrote in da vote
>>
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Rolling to desperately escape Talbot: Barely make it, nearly get severe burns or injuries in the process

Rolling to lie about chips: Pic related
>>
>>4706727
>>4706735
>>4706745
>Highest Roll: 107
Okay, escaping from Talbot was nasty, sure, but this is important, damn it--she NEEDS chips.

Writing, by the way
>>
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Ignoring the clear ‘tude in the goon’s voice you take a few steps deeper into the office, then point in what you assume is the direction of reception.

Wait… Just a bit more to the left.

There ya go.

Mitzi says to get her chips, you report like the matter of utmost importance it is, It’s an emergency!

The goon stares at you for a moment before taking a sip from the #1 Goon mug in front of him on the desk.

A CHIPmergency, if you will.

“An eMUNCHency?” Art adds, looking to you for approval. Not bad!

The goon behind the desk clicks his mouse a few times before letting out a quiet sigh.

“MotherFRICK!” He roars, abruptly standing up and sweeping everything, mug and keyboard included, off the desk!

“Every godDAMN time!” He continues as you and Art back up a bit. “ ‘Go make a pot of coffee,DEREK! Go empty the trash-- it smells like SHIT, DEREK!! Go do EVERYTHING, DEREK!!!!

“Holy crap...” Ly whispers as the goon stomps towards the door.

She uh… She didn’t say what type she wanted, but--

“Oh don’t worry, DEREK will figure it out! Mitzi needs her CHIPS!” Derek shouts, throwing his hands in the air! “I HATE THE SHIT OUTTA’ THIS PLACE!” He screams, voice cracking near the end!

Is… Is he crying?

“Just uh… Let’s move.” Art recommends, prompting the two of you to get out of the way. Derek ignores you as he yanks the door open and makes his way down the hall, muttering under his breath the whole way. You and Art exchange a glance--that went pretty well!

“Sure did, but we’d better HURRY!” Art replies, gesturing to the room. Let’s see…

You could start by CHECKING THE TERMINAL. Derek probably didn’t log out and you love reading other people’s emails!

There are also several DRAWERS in each desk--maybe you can FIND SOME STUFF!

Lastly, there’s the BACK EXIT HALLWAY.

What’s FIRST?
>CHECK THE TERMINAL!
>SEARCH the DRAWERS!
>Check the BACK EXIT!
>WRITE-IN
>>