LAST TIME, ON DRAGON SLAYER QUESTYour name is Noah Lee - straight C+ student, scrawny runt, and lover of old ballroom dance vinyls. After a chance encounter during detention, you discovered that you possess the mystical "Type O-alpha" blood-type, which marks you as...Monster bait. No cool powers. No "chosen one" status. But apparently, if you bleed around the wrong people, they will explode into gigantic, reality-warping monsters known as "Dragons" and immediately try to kill you. Silver lining! Surviving a Dragon attack gave you magic powers - "Alchemy", the ability to enforce your intent on the world and reshape matter and energy.After a fraught encounter with your teacher, who burst into a Dragon and attempted to kill you, you were saved by Kendra Shields (call her Ken), a gruff, battle-worn two-star Slayer for the Fraternal Order Of Dragon Slayers (FOODS), and became her apprentice in order to learn enough so that you could defend yourself from Dragons.After a harrowing experience at a school assembly that revealed the existence of Coach White as a dangerous Three-star Dragon, you were glad to take the opportunity to take some relaxing time with your friends - really, your only two friends. Rebecca George, to whom your romantic relationship is somewhat complicated, and Josh Masters, who is a big popular meathead and you have no idea why he likes you.Even with the evening spent relaxing, enjoying each other's presence, and doing homework and studying, your double life looms over you like a haunting spectre. After all, Coach White wasn't killed by the FOODS agents he was confronted by - he escaped, half-dead (literally, with a tracking device somewhere in him, but escaped nonetheless. And Rebecca seems to have more than her fair share of holes in her memory from Dragon attacks, not to mention the incoming presence of l'Ordine soon to encroach upon your hometown, the Vatican's personal Dragon hunting order.And, of course, Saint.
You didn't expect... well, that's not true. A rapidly growing but still small part of your brain dedicated to protecting you at all costs expected it, but the rest of you didn't expect for Saint to interrupt you at Rebecca's apartment. Even more unexpected, Saint, a relatively friendly Two-star Dragon that hasn't killed you yet, came here not looking for Josh or Rebecca, but for you, injured in a fight with a half-dead Dragon that you figure is likely the escaped Coach White.After using some mundane methods to patch Saint's rather gnarly wounds, you found out that they've decided to become a monster hunter of some kind on the urging of a mysterious figure. Context clues lead you to believe, of course, that it's the same mysterious figure that's been going around giving people manuals on forbidden alchemy, who's urging Saint to bring them the "hearts of monsters" for a medicine that can turn Saint back into a human. You warned them not to trust the figure and to stay safe, and, now, with an hour left of your Dragon venom dose, making you invisible to normal people, it's time to do a little snooping.
>>4794106The static in the air is gone. There isn't a second Dragon around, or anyone doing any alchemy. Just you, and Rebecca's apartment. It's time to go get in touch with your inner detective slash weird stalker. You do a cursory look-around - nothing like prying into people's drawers, just looking around in Rebecca's bedroom with a little peek. You resist the urge to really stick your face in her room again, other than once again acknowledging the family photo with two people seemingly missing from Rebecca's life in it. A couple of other photos - Rebecca playing bass with a band, some sort of cheap plastic trophy. Books, scattered about haphazardly, mostly dystopian fiction names you recognize. Fahrenheit 451, Animal Farm, 1984, etc.Nothing really interesting.PICK ONE>Text someone that Saint gave you a visit, be vague, just "saw a Dragon, keep watch". (Free Option)>Text someone that Saint gave you a visit, be detailed. (Free Option)>Keep this little meeting to yourselfPICK ANOTHER>Look for any more family memorabilia, more proof that she had a family beyond what's in the picture.>Examine what the cheap plastic trophy is for.>Bro, what are we doing? Just wait out your invisibility timer.>Free Option.
>>4794107GLOSSARY OF TERMShttps://pastebin.com/ipHuwpgLCHARACTER LISTINGhttps://pastebin.com/imUJCpNeLISTING ON SUPTGhttp://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Dragon%20Slayer%20QuestPREVIOUS THREADhttp://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4732266/If you're enjoying the quest, your upvotes are greatly appreciated, but not at all required
>>4794107>Keep this little meeting to yourself>Look for any more family memorabilia, more proof that she had a family beyond what's in the picture.>Examine what the cheap plastic trophy is for.
>>4794107>>Keep this little meeting to yourself>>Look for any more family memorabilia, more proof that she had a family beyond what's in the picture.
>>4794107>Keep this little meeting to yourself>Bro, what are we doing? Just wait out your invisibility timer.
>>4796056>>4794172>>4794144You decide that, given what you know (or perhaps in spite of what you know - it's a bit hinky in your brain), it's probably for the best that the peopole you know are kept in the dark about your... friendship? Relationship? With an active Draconic threat. Your brain tells you that telling them about what you're doing might be a bad idea, particularly about the fact that you're going out of your way to treat their wounds. Yeah, no, not today. You keep that for yourself.No deep snooping right now, just sort of cursory glancing over everything. You walk through Rebecca's room, lightly stepping just out of habit, not touching anything, not putting anything a single inch out of place. Just looking, bending over, reading. A spelling bee trophy from elementary school, and underneath her nightstand, what look to be several more of the same or similar make. Outside of the view of the doorway, another small table has a couple of photo frames collecting an intense quantity of dust. Either with the older girl she couldn't recognize in the video, a rather intense looking man with a scruffy beard, glasses, and plaid, or a combination of the two. There is one photo that looks actually touched, with an older woman, probably in her early, mid forties or so, having her arm around Rebecca. The rest of the "family" is there as well, but their parts of the photo are coated in a fine layer of dust, like Rebecca's fingers never touched them, only ever wiping clean her own picture and that of the older woman. A mom? Her aunt? You have no idea, and there's no written indications of anything, either.>Go digging for more. There's gotta be something DEFINITIVE here.>Look, we have more than enough circumstantial evidence that we can assume that her direct family got eaten. Either they were killed by a Dragon or she's got some serious trauma she's not opening up about, and your money's on the Dragon. Just go chill on the futon.>Free Option.
>>4798175>Look, we have more than enough circumstantial evidence that we can assume that her direct family got eaten. Either they were killed by a Dragon or she's got some serious trauma she's not opening up about, and your money's on the Dragon. Just go chill on the futon.
>>4798175>Go digging for more. There's gotta be something DEFINITIVE here.Just be careful and mind the time.
>>4798175>Look, we have more than enough circumstantial evidence that we can assume that her direct family got eaten. Either they were killed by a Dragon or she's got some serious trauma she's not opening up about, and your money's on the Dragon. Just go chill on the futon.Okay, fine, I'll stop snooping. But I reserve the right to shout "I knew it!" if it turns out to be relevant later, whether I did in fact know it or not.
>>4798181>>4798219You feel like you don't need to go any more invasive than just a casual perusal of her room - you think you're getting a clear enough picture from everything you know and have learned about her. Rebecca lived with a girl, maybe her mom, maybe a sister, and her... dad, probably? Older brother? Looks like a dad. Uncle. Older male figure. She did spelling bees. She likes dystopian fiction. Her family's out of the picture and she can't remember them. It is what it is.You walk back into the living room, where Josh and Rebecca have begun watching TikToks on Rebecca's laptop instead of working and studying. By your estimate you have maybe about 40, 35 ish minutes left on your invisibility timer before you suddenly become able to be perceived again. Honestly, you have no idea if you will magically blink back into their memories or not - will Rebecca remember you slinking off? Either way, she probably wouldn't have seen you entering her bedroom, so if she asks, you were taking another shit because of the school lunch percolating in your insides. Easy as. Obviously, you hope that your disappearance is just an inexplainable blip, but it'll be interesting to find out.>Fuck with them a little bit while you're still invisible.>Sit back and watch TikToks.>Get some uninterrupted homework time in.>Free Option.
>>4799866>Get some uninterrupted homework time in.The only good thing on TikTok is that Wellerman collab, and that can be listened to while doing homework.
>>4799866>Get some uninterrupted homework time in.I'm not into whatever "Tok tiks" these whippersnappers are going on about
>>4799866>Get some uninterrupted homework time in.We've got to catch up on whatever time we lost bandaging up Saint.
Apologies for the missed day - as mentioned last thread, May is going to be a busy month for me :(>>4800615>>4800470>>4800108You can't say you're exactly interested in TikTok - call yourself an old soul or something, but it's never really attracted your attention. Actually, if you asked people they probably would call you an old soul, which you're not sure how you feel about, so maybe let's not go that far.Either way, you lost some valuable school time with Saint, and if you know anything about a lifetime of being suffused with pop culture about superheroes and the like, it's that the masquerade will ruin your school performance if you don't keep a good balance. Maybe it's inevitable, but the least you can do is stave it off as long as you can.You get a couple of days ahead in homework, the best you can, turning pages, watching the clock, waiting for the glance of recognition that indicates that you've once again appeared in everyone's perceptory function. Eventually, it happens. You don't know if it happens all at once, or in stages, or like a slow sliding scale, but their eyes flick towards you, first glassy, then full of revelation, and then... a normal look. "Oh, hey, Noah. How was your shit?" Rebecca asks, brusquely."Dude, you were in there for like, three hours. You alright? Do I need to call 911? A plumber?" Josh asks, chuckling at someone yelling and making silly noises on Rebecca's screen.>"Nah, I plunged it. I'm not an asshole.">"I'm afraid there's a corpse in there, you'll have to get some hydrochloric acid for me.">"What are you talking about?">Free Option.
>>4804832>"What are you talking about? I've been sitting here working for like an hour while you've been watching dumb kids do dumb stuff."
>>4804832>Free Option.>"What? No, I got that done with a long time ago. I've just been busy providing first aid for a mysterious vagrant that crawled in through the window. Get better locks, Rebecca.">"No, seriously, though, I've been right here. You really were that distracted? Oh my god, the boomers were right."
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4804894>>48074541>>4805348>>48075862Will try to write the update as soon as I wake up for real and have my meds in me. Starting to get back on ritalin for multiple reasons but "being able to write quest during the day" is one of them.
>>4804894>>4807454"What are you talking about? I've been sitting here working for, like, an hour, while you two've just been watching dumb kids do dumb kid stuff." You ask, raising an eyebrow at them. You wonder, idly and to yourself, if their memory is malleable enough that it just accepts this as valid. They stare at you for a couple of moments, eyes visibly glazing over in a way that strikes you as very, very disconcerting."Yeah, okay, whatever." Josh says, sort of quiet-mechanically, before returning his face to TikTok and his eyes to normal. You suddenly get a little mental vision of someone with less-than-good intentions using this ability, and your heart does a little convolution. Have there been people that have done that - stolen Dragon venom to use to gaslight people? Has anyone ever done that to you? You furrow your brow, think for a moment, and immediately get a splitting headache, letting out an involuntary yelp of pain. Everything in your head goes white for a moment, and by the time your eyesight returns, you've evidently begun lying prone, with Rebecca and Josh both looking down at you, blinking quietly. Rebecca's fingers are prying your eyelids open, looking down into them. "You awake yet, Noah?""How long was I out?" You ask, gently pushing Rebecca's hand away from your face."Like, five minutes. You made a really weird noise, twitched a couple of times, and then passed out. Everything alright?" Josh asks, with the most genuine concern you've ever seen on his face. His hand is in your hair, and you wipe soreness from your face, like your jaw was tensed up tight around your teeth. Did you just... have a seizure?>"Yeah, I'm fine, I think I just had a seizure." [Half-truth]>"I tried to remember some childhood memories, possibly traumatic, and it caused me to have a psychic-induced seizure." [Sarcastically truthful]>"Yeah, just kind of really tired. I'll be fine. You got a Tylenol? Maybe some Benedryl?" [Wishy-washy]>Free Option.
>>4809513>"The fuck? Did I....just have a seizure?"So do we actually have to go to FOODS to get some antidote in our systems, or do we have some serious dragon business in our past?
>>4809513>"The fuck? Did I....just have a seizure?"I for one do NOT want to go to FOODS about this. I'm suspicious as hell of everyone (human and otherwise) in these secret alchemy circles now. Time to shadowrun it.
>>4809513Supporting >>4809523Well, I guess that hints at the answer to a question I've been wondering. What happens if someone who's had memories erased by Dragon venom later gets inoculated against it? Apparently nothing, until they start thinking about it. Centipede's dilemma.
>>4809523>>4809572>>4809708You don't play this off, despite your immediate first instincts to do so. No, after a couple of seconds to collect yourself, your brain connects two dots together. You wipe some dried saliva off your face, testing out the muscles there. You feel sore all over, like your body was curled up into a tense ball and only just started to relax, a full-body cramp from the head to the toes. "What the fuck? Did I... just have a seizure?" You ask. Josh continues to pat your hair in a way that indicates he has never soothed another human being in his life, while Rebecca looks at you with obvious concern and a slight hint of fear."I mean, it looked like a seizure to me. My dad has photosensitive epilepsy, you sort of did the same sort of movement that he did." Josh says. Already, your gears are starting to turn - you consider your options. Who could you ask about this? Who could you tell about this?"Do we need to call 911 or something?" Rebecca asks, putting her hand on your shoulder.>"No, don't, I can't afford the ambulance ride. I'll just schedule an appointment with my normal doctor.">"I'll take care of myself, but thank you for offering.">"Please, I'm not sure I can handle two seizures in one night.">Free Option.
>>4811670>"No, don't, I can't afford the ambulance ride. I'll just schedule an appointment with my normal doctor."
>>4811670>>"No, don't, I can't afford the ambulance ride. I'll just schedule an appointment with my normal doctor."
>>4811670>"No, don't, I can't afford the ambulance ride. I'll just schedule an appointment with my normal doctor.">Free Option>"Unless it happens again. Then it would be serious."
Tomorrow is the day I have set aside for packing up most of my non-furniture objects, so, may be too exhausted to write - just to warn in advance!>>4812484>>4811739>>4811681>>4811675"No, no, don't worry about it, I can't afford the ambulance ride anyway." You say, laughing nervously. It's true, at least - an unexpected medical expense, regardless of how good your mom's insurance is, could put the two of you in hot water, and with all the sneaking around you've been doing you don't really want to be beholden to FOODS for money. Or anyone else, for that matter. Or be in medical debt in general, that's usually considered a bad thing.Josh and Rebecca do not look convinced. You wave your hand in front of your face a little bit, following it with your eyes. "I'll just schedule an appointment with my normal doctor tomorrow. Believe me, I'm not in the market to have more than one seizure in my life if I can afford it.""Alright, man, just make sure you're safe and all that." Josh says, grabbing you by the wrist and helping you up to a sitting position. He gives you a very gentle clap on the back, nothing like the normal raucous five-stars he gives you otherwise, and you get the impression that, very suddenly, the way he views you as a friend and person has changed. A sort of concerned pity where there wasn't before.You...>Don't like this. He's looking at you like you're suddenly in a wheelchair, you don't like that sort of pity. Especially when it might not be warranted.>Appreciate his concern for you. It means he's not just keeping you around as some sort of goofy popular kid pet project - as if you needed more confirmation.>Enjoy it. It feels *good* to feel like people care about you, even if the circumstances aren't the greatest for this sort of thing.>Free Option."Do you want to stay the night at my place so I can keep an eye on you?" Josh asks, scooting back a little bit on the futon. "I know your mom usually goes to work early and all that, so, like, I'm a little worried if she ends up bouncing and then you, you know, wig out when she can't take care of you. That would suck.""Or here, here works too if you don't want to get in a car." Rebecca offers, piping up from behind Josh's shoulder. "I don't really use this futon for much anyway.">"Thanks for offering, but I should be fine, I think I just need some rest.">"I think it'd probably be for the best if I chilled here for the night, if that's cool with you, Rebecca? I don't think going on the road right now is a great idea for me.">"Yeah, I guess give me a couple minutes to catch my breath and I guess Josh, you're gonna call your... mom, or something?">Free Option.
>>4813631>"Thanks for offering, but I should be fine, I think I just need some rest."
>>4813631>Don't like this. He's looking at you like you're suddenly in a wheelchair, you don't like that sort of pity. Especially when it might not be warranted.>"Thanks for offering, but I should be fine, I think I just need some rest."
>>4813631>Enjoy it. It feels *good* to feel like people care about you, even if the circumstances aren't the greatest for this sort of thing.>Free Option.>Also, feel a little guilt that we can't explain what we think happened. Context makes it a bit less scary, and we can't share that.>"I think it'd probably be for the best if I chilled here for the night, if that's cool with you, Rebecca? I don't think going on the road right now is a great idea for me."
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>48136801>>48141502
>>4814150>>4813680>>4813663For the most part, you enjoy it - it feels a little gratifying to know that there's people here looking out for your well being, particularly after the strange new hell your find your life turning into. Ken (probably), Saint (maybe), Rebecca, Josh, there's something nice to knowing that people value you enough to worry. Still, it doesn't feel great that you can't exactly explain what's going on. Context makes it less scary - you're fairly certain that you're not, like, legitimately an epileptic - but you can't exactly share. Or, you could, but their ability to believe it is... probably pretty low.You wave them off quietly. "Thanks for offering, but I should be fine, I think I just need some rest.""Alright, well..." Rebecca mumbles. "I guess that means study night is probably over, huh?" She says, laughing nervously.>"Yeah, I should probably get going.">"I mean, no reason I can't stay a little longer. I just think if I do any more studying studying I might go from seizure to anyeurism.">Free Option.
>>4817618>"I mean, no reason I can't stay a little longer. I just think if I do any more studying studying I might go from seizure to anyeurism."
>>4817618>>"I mean, no reason I can't stay a little longer. I just think if I do any more studying I might go from seizure to anyeurism."
>>4817898>>4817771>>4817624"I mean, no reason I can't stay a little longer. I just think if I do any more studying, uh... studying I might go from... Seizure to anyeurism." You say, thinking the joke sounded much funnier in your head as you stumble over your words. To be fair to yourself, you don't think that's the result of any particular seizure, you're just not a very confident talker when the occasion isn't "something that will get you in trouble", evidently.Josh and Rebecca don't question it too much. The three of you pack away your books - if Rebecca suspects any snooping, even mild-to-moderate amounts of it, she's doing a very good job of hiding such. You do take another trip to the bathroom just to make sure you didn't leave anything suspicious lying around, and, thankfully, you remembered to pack up the first aid equipment. Hopefully, Rebecca is not the kind of person who obsessively keeps track of all the gauze in her dusty first-aid kid.The rest of the night is spent goofing around. It feels refreshing, with your apparent seizure quickly dropping into the background and then forgotten entirely by everyone who's not you. You missed this, to an extent, considering your experience having anything close to "this" is minimal to begin with. It's... different. New. Good.You feel better.Your relationship with Josh Masters has become stronger!Your relationship with Rebecca George has become stronger!Your emotional health has improved!Eventually, it becomes late - a little too late, on a school night, honestly. Fast approaching midnight and then a little past. Josh, at this point, has straight up fallen asleep on the futon, snoring quietly and lightly. Rebecca is fiddling around on her laptop just as quietly, while you look around, feeling a little bit awkward even in the quiet comfort.>"Well, uh, I should probably get going. So I can get at least my six hours of sleep in and whatnot.">"It was really nice hanging out with you guys - we should do this again more often. I'm going to get going now, if that's okay with you?">Free Option.
>>4819503>"It was really nice hanging out with you guys - we should do this again more often. I'm going to get going now, if that's okay with you?"We need to take Rebecca out on a date sometime.
>>4819503>"It was really nice hanging out with you guys - we should do this again more often. I'm going to get going now, if that's okay with you?"
>>4819503>>"It was really nice hanging out with you guys - we should do this again more often. I'm going to get going now, if that's okay with you?"damn, the rarest powerup: improved emotional health
Pulled an all-nighter and a muscle packing - the perils of moving houses!>>4819601>>4819613>>4819660>>4819862"It was really nice hanging out with you guys - we should do this again more often. I'm going to get going now, if that's okay with you?" You ask, pulling out your phone and getting ready to order an Uber. At this point you probably should know better, but it's really just the most convenient way to get around right now.Some day, you may have a driver's license and own a car, or at the very least, a motorcycle like Ken. Until that day, however, you require other people to ferry you around, regardless of the risk that could pose to your personal safety - thus is life! Or you could just stay home forever, but that's no way to live life. Rebecca gives you a friendly smile - she seems nonplussed. "Sure, no problem. Drive home safe, okay?"You nod and start packing your stuff away into your backpack after ordering your Lyft, cramming it inside. You give her a little awkward fistbump on your way out, and feel a little uncomfortable shudder roll through you as you make your way back down to the outside of the building, and from there, you find a nice curb to sit on.Your phone isn't exploded with texts or anything. The night is quiet and empty. There's no static in the air.>Sit there until your lyft arrives.>Cancel it, walk home. Why not?>Text someone while you wait (Free Option)>Free Option.
>>4823472>Cancel it, walk home. Why not?cherish it before dragon covid keeps everyone inside
>>4823472>Sit there until your lyft arrives.Please no dragon attacks this time.
>>4823472>Sit there until your lyft arrives.
Tomorrow is the big move, so I'm hitting the haystacks early tonight to get my energy up for dealing with family members all day. Will try to have an update for you later tomorrow!
Alright so that was far more difficult than I expected it to be. Should be relatively smooth sailing from here on out, fellas.>>4823794>>4823570You know what? After the week you've been having, you think that taking any further sort of goofy risks, while amusingly tickling to your brain in a sort of high school movie way, are probably not great for your survivability rating. You'd definitely like to remain alive as long as possible, and walking home late at night is probably not going to be the winning ticket there.You just kind of... sit there. You quietly watch youtube on your phone. Some video about The Caretaker, that dude who made the grody chopped-and-screwed ballroom dance music Rebecca showed you. It's really quite good, and really quite haunting. Eventually, your ride pulls up, and your heart skips a beat at the impossible possibility of it being your driver from before - but no, it's only the light, and your steadily developing anxiety. You slip into the back seat.The interior of the lyft is decked out like the man aims to please, with water bottles and a box of candy and chips situated in the center console. Your driver, a man with a thick accent, waves you in politely. "Feel free to take what you'd like, boss. Any sort of music?" He asks, pulling into stick and beginning to pull out from the sidewalk. "Have spotify.">"You can put on what you'd like.">"Ballroom Jazz, please.">Free Option.>Decline his offer for candy, but take a water bottle.>Grab some food - you realize you haven't eaten that much besides a little nosh here and there at Rebecca's place.>Politely decline.>Free Option (for anything else you'd like to do)
>>4830181>"Ballroom Jazz, please.">Politely decline.
>>4830181>>"You can put on what you'd like.">Politely decline.
>>4830181>>"Ballroom Jazz, please.">>Politely decline.
>>4830215>>4830243>>4830270>>4830792>>4831601You politely decline his offer of food - your mom will inevitably have some kind of leftovers somewhere in the house that you can nosh on, and you feel a little weird about taking food from lyft drivers. Whoever's next in line after you can have it, no skin off your back. "Can you put on some ballroom jazz, please?""B-ballroom jazz?" He asks, tasting the word on his tongue like it's not familiar to him. You get the distinct impression that English is not this person's first language; it doesn't phase you any particular amount, it's just a curiosity that you're now aware of. He swipes through Spotify at the next red light and changes the music.<BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bNITQR4Uso >Well... It's not exactly ballroom jazz, but it's familiar enough that you find yourself not particularly minding it. The world whizzes by quietly as you stare out, expecting the hair on the back of your neck to stand up at any moment.It never does. You arrive home safely, wave the driver off, and quietly open the front door to your mom sleeping on the couch. You pull the blanket a little further up her torso, shovel some leftovers down your throat without heating them up, and vanish up the stairs.You stare at your bedroom door, a poppy bassline still ringing in your head quietly. The moon's heading down.>Go to bed. Get your shut-eye in. Nothing strenuous after you had a god damn seizure.>Tire yourself out in case you have more trouble sleeping. Let's get some push-ups in or whatever.>Read more of the forbidden alchemy binder while you're a little too jazzed up to sleep.>Free Option.
>>4832362>Go to bed. Get your shut-eye in. Nothing strenuous after you had a god damn seizure.
>>4832362>Tire yourself out in case you have more trouble sleeping. Let's get some push-ups in or whatever.
>>4832362>>Tire yourself out in case you have more trouble sleeping. Let's get some push-ups in or whatever.We've been spending calories primarily through alchemy for quite a while, maybe some natural bodily functions will help.
>>4832362>Go to bed. Get your shut-eye in. Nothing strenuous after you had a god damn seizure.And check in at the local FOODS center tomorrow, see if this sort of thing is a known problem.
>>4832362>>Go to bed. Get your shut-eye in. Nothing strenuous after you had a god damn seizure.But yeah, text Hyde first thing in the morning about it.
>>4832436>>4832474>>4832886None of that for tonight - you had a seizure, and even though you know what probably triggered it, you still don't want to take too many chances with exhausting yourself. You take care of your hygiene until your mouth is full of minty freshness, flop onto your bed, and pass out....You know you're dreaming, now.Your limbs feel floaty, unlike the dream in your strange alchemy-scape earlier. No, this feels like a normal sort of dream, but you also feel much more aware of it than normal. You look around, struggling to move against the invisible sludge, the thick air that binds all dreamers, prevents them from running, from opening their eyes. You take a breath somewhere in your bed. The air smells of cigarettes.A room, with two couches. Gold and white tiled floor, blue curtains surrounding it in place of walls. It strikes you as searingly familiar, like it's reaching back from somewhere very, very deep in your brain. Have you seen a place like this before?There's another person there, smoking a cigar. Once you realize that it's not a cigarette, the scent shifts, becoming thicker, darker, heavier.You recognize this man, from the same place that this landscape is dredged from. You don't know how you know, but you know. He looks at you and raises an eyebrow, chomping down on the end of his cigar like he's biting the eraser on a pencil, sucking in deep plumes of black smoke and exhaling them out his nostrils like dragonfire.Your throat feels hoarse, buzzing.>"Who are you?">"Where am I?">Free Option.
>>4834552>"Who are you?">"Where am I?"
>>4834552Pretty sure that's the same picture as the one Noah's mom showed him for his dad. I guess he's not lucid enough to recognize this. >"Where am I?"Is this related to our dragon venom seizure?
>>4834592>Is this related to our dragon venom seizure?Oh absolutely.
>>4834552"Any tips for a good night's sleep?"
>>4834552>"What is this?"
>>4834564>>4834592>>4835393>>4835744"Who are you?" You ask, settling down in one of the chairs. He sucks on his cigar a little more."Just a memory." He replies, his voice like burnt sugar, dark, heated too much for too long - scorched into the bottom of the metaphorical pan. He blows smoke in your face and you, very slowly, barely managing, wave it away. The room changes around you, becoming something different every time you look at the floor."Where am I?" You ask. The curtains are red, and the familiarity feels stronger."You used to watch this show. It's her favorite." He says, leaning back into his chair, his cigarette blowing off outgassed green sulfur smoke, the air reeking of rotten eggs. "Back before your brain wanted to form long term memories. Children can't remember murders and horror. Children can't remember anything."You try to rub your chin, but your arms are stuck in marshmallow air. They just hang there, not responding to your requests to move. You don't even think your mouth opens when you speaks. "Any tips for a good night's sleep?"He puts out his cigar on his knee, not even wincing. He pulls it back into the air and it ignites again. Cold air blows in through the nearby window. He looks you up and down and smiles. "Can't say I do, sorry.""What is this?" You ask, looking for answers. The chair begins to quietly swallow you, your wrists dragged into the fabric. You try to resist, but can't even muster up the energy to move even a smidgen.He smiles at you. It doesn't feel comforting. "A bad dream, Noah. It's always a bad dream.">Wake up before you're swallowed completely.>Free Option.
>>4836700>Wake up before you're swallowed completely.
>>4836700>Wake up before you're swallowed completely.>Free Option.>Try not to forget like we apparently have other times we've had this dream.Well, I have no idea what to make of this, other than to draw a comparison to Twin Peaks. A tile-floored room with two couches, surrounded by curtains. The curtains even turn red and Noah notes that it feels familiar. Is this the Red Room? Dream Daddy here says this imagery is from a show Noah saw when he was very young, it could be Twin Peaks. The memory is associated with someone who really liked this show, and also "murders and horror". A female relative or babysitter that got killed by a Dragon, maybe? Someone who would have been watching over Noah while his mother was at work or night school, watching Twin Peaks reruns while Noah was in the room. And then he saw her get eaten by a Dragon, I guess.
Is the thread dead?
>>4840551No, I just had an IRL emergency last night - I will probably be archiving tonight since we're on page 9 and then making the next thread tomorrow!
>>4840583Oh, I double checked and we have quite a more threads to go before we fall off - I'll give it another update before we move on. Sorry about missing last night.
>>4836794>>4836744>>4836710You stare at him, and wake up with a deep lungful of air, propelling yourself out of your bed. Your limbs are sore and you have a headache, so you slowly pull yourself out of bed and stumble into your bathroom, cramming two ibuprofen down your mouth and brushing the taste out of your teeth.You spit mouthwash out and notice a small streak of blood among the bright blue, quickly diluted into a mute brownish haze that quickly vanishes down the drain when you hit the sink's knob to the hot direction so you can splash some water on your face. Your eyes look a little sunken, but bright, tired and yet still full of energy.Your condition is fair!You go downstairs, harvest the food left out for you by your doting mother, and prepare for the bus ride to school. Everything works on clockwork muscle memory developed from a steady set of years going to school already.The world around you whizzes by quietly on the wheels of a yellow bus along city streets.>Text Ken about the seizure.>Text Dr. Hyde about the seizure.>Text someone else about the seizure. (Free Option).>Free Option.
>>4840832>Text Dr. Hyde about the seizure.
>>4840832>Text Dr. Hyde about the seizure.He is FOODS' resident practitioner. If anyone knows about this sort of thing, it's him. Well, or maybe Pandora, but we don't have their phone number.
>>4840832>Text Dr. Hyde about the seizure.And the blood in our mouthwash.
Archived:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4794105/And, new thread:>>4843024Thank you all for reading!