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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!

After a particularly close encounter with the reaper following a psychedelic jaunt through several ‘alternate dimensions’, you were able to reconvene with your pals EDDIE, ART, and MARSHAL BURTON PARBLE– the latter being one of the more pleasant surprises sprung upon you in the last few days. Reunited and rejuvenated, you and your posse soon tracked down the leader of the BLACK EYE GANG and one of the lich’s last remaining LIEUTENANTS: CLAYTON BLACK. Though he put up an admirable fight thanks to his mastery of illusions and the infamous MERCER BROTHERS, the end result was the same: you kicked his bony ass!

Following another charming encounter with your extremely-annoying coworker BORIS PONDEROSA, you and your pals managed to escape more or less intact enough to attend a party held in your honor courtesy of the skeletal citizens of JOPLIN: a ghost town just outside CLEARWATER city limits. Aside from the usual drunken revelry, your antics also took you to a strange theater–the FUTURE being the main attraction! Haunted by a series of flashbulb premonitions, you found solace in beating the stuffing out of your friends in a good-natured bar fight!

The victory, however, went to your fellow janitor and ex-hulking-skeletal-golem TALBOT SCHUMER, but only cuz’ you let him! Escorting you back to your lodgings for the night, things got a little… complicated when both of you let down your thorny walls. The details are sparse, but you’re pretty sure you only kissed him on the cheek. Thank GOD.

There’s no rest for the wicked, however, and after a night of shock-induced paralysis you learned that several issues require your delicate touch, most of them in the vicinity of THE LODGE– the massive survival bunker currently run by your company. Before you can rush off, however, an old friend and purveyor of nifty goods appears on the horizon… chased by what sounds like an army of cars!

Still nursing a hangover and itchin’ for a fight, THIS is where your story continues...
https://youtu.be/_wiwdlu-Zg0
>>
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>>5123554
Welcome to BONES QUEST--the gift that keeps on giving whether you want it or not! Make sure to check out the following resources:

FRESH NEW Archive Link to catch up with the story! GOLLY!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bones%20Quest

Twitter account for updates!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3

Imgur Page for quest and FAN ART! You make it, we display it!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

A HANDY PASTEBIN for INVENTORY, SKILLS, and MORE:
>https://pastebin.com/u/DemBonez3/1/TvtRhtJK

Rolls are handled by a 1d100--I take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! Certain boosts and maluses will be applied based on the situation and existing skills. Describing your actions, write-ins, FANART and GENERAL CREATIVITY are all APPRECIATED AND REWARDED--we like to keep things LIGHT and CHILL here, so come on in and have some fun!

>CONTD.
>>
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https://youtu.be/YftKjT9Lmn0
You take a few steps away from Sybil’s kneeling form as the hungover Goth continues to empty the contents of her stomach onto the sand beneath you. Reaching to hold her hair back from her face, your friendly gesture is soundly thwarted by the report of a high-caliber gun approaching from down the way!

“Well now,” Marshal Burton remarks as he inspects the carnage from down the sights of his REPEATER RIFLE, “Reckon yer’ pals ain’t defenseless, at least…”

He’s not wrong! Bouncing along the dirt road comes a big rig truck trimmed to the nines with all the modifications a SKELETON GREASER could ask for: barbed wire along the sides, a turbocharger poking out of the front, and, most importantly, a MACHINE GUN TURRET welded to some scrap metal fortifications on top of the trailer! A skeleton crew of, well, skeletons mans the top gun: one firing wildly into the sandstorm trailing behind them, two others backing him up with KALENCHIKOV-48 RIFLES.

In any other situation you’d say HAULIE-PAULIE had the advantage, but that prediction is flushed down the toilet when two pursuers emerge from the dust–ones that look far too familiar for your comfort!

“Wait a minute…” Talbot mutters as he peers towards the approaching vehicles, “Aren’t those GOOD BOY logos on the sides?”

Indeed they are–a pair of APCS WITH MOUNTED MACHINE GUNS bearing your company’s logo descend upon the truck like hyenas hunting a gazelle, leading the way for two more identical machines behind them! Swerving to dodge the brunt of the truck’s gunfire, the APCs return fire of their own with the hardware mounted on top!

“Now there’s somethin’...” Gramps remarks as he keeps a bead on the pursuers, “those guns of theirs are movin’ on their own!”

The old bag of bones is right:whether it’s through sorcery or tech, the pursuing APCs have no one on their exteriors–how the heck are Paulie and the boys supposed to put them out of commission?

“More importantly,” Ly remarks in a worried tone, “Are there GOOD BOY SECURITY goons in dose’ trucks?”

Whoever they are, they’re trying to turn your favorite salesman into Swiss Cheese, and they just might do that if you don’t do something NOW! But WHAT?!

>PILE INTO THE VAN–YOU’RE JOINING THE CHASE!
>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!
>ATTACK THEM FROM AFAR–YOU’VE GOT THE HARDWARE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5123569
>>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!
>>
>>5123569
>GET PAULIE TO PULL INTO THE VISITOR’S CENTER–YOU’LL HOLD OUT HERE!
>FLAG THE APCS DOWN–YOU CAN DIPLOMANCE THIS!
>>
>>5123573
>>5123569 +1
>>
>>5123573
>>5123579
>>5123590
>PULL OVER AND WE'LL TALK THIS OUT!
Writing!
>>
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Before anyone can react, you scamper off in the direction of the approaching vehicles waving your arms in the air like one of those car dealership decorations!

“Stan…” Ly murmurs as the convoy approaches you well above the speed limit, “what da’ hell are you doin’?”

You can’t deal with this crap if they’re driving around, you explain over the sound of your friends shouting behind you! You’re gonna get everyone to pull over!

“Aw cripes, I knew today was gonna be crummy…” Your skeleton groans as the big rig drifts along the dirt path leading up to the VISITOR’S CENTER! Leaning on the horn, the driver shouts something at you, but the roaring engines drown it out! Frantically gesturing towards the parking lot like an overworked traffic controller, you abandon your post when the skeleton’s truck follows your directions and skids onto the asphalt!

The scent of gas, gunsmoke, and scorched rubber fills the air as the truck and its trailer whip across the parking lot, knocking the few remaining derelict cars around like bowling pins! With an ear-piercing shriek, the big rig skids for a good five seconds before coming to a screeching halt near the back of the lot!

“What the hell, Stan?!” Asks Talbot as he carries Sybil over in the crook of his arm! Before you can answer, the truck’s pursuers follow suit and tear onto the road leading up to the parking lot as well! While The Marshal, Talbot, and, by extension, Syb duck behind a nearby overturned sedan, you stand with your arms raised in front of the approaching APC CONVOY!

“... Errr, they ain’t stoppin’, cupcake…”

You hate to say it, but Ly’s right…

“M-maybe they don’t see us?” Asks your skeleton in an increasingly-shaky voice. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of the desert and wearing a friggin’ TRAPPER’S FUR COAT– if they can’t see you then they shouldn’t be driving!

… also you really oughta change clothes–it’s bad enough that you wore this to the party last night, but now it’s the middle of the day and it’s TOAST-

GET THE HELL OUTTA THE WAY!” Roars Pops as he aims his gun at the approaching vehicles! Whoops, right–back to reality!

What’s the play here? Do they not know who you are?
>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
>SCREW IT–LIGHT ‘EM UP WITH SOMETHING NASTY (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>GET TO COVER AND HAVE LY INVESTIGATE–HE CAN GO THROUGH WALLS, RIGHT?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5123631
>>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

dice test
>>
>>5123631
>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
>>
>>5123631
>>STAN YOUR GROUND! THEY’VE GOTTA KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
Thank god we have that reinforced ribcage
>>
>>5123634
>>5123641
>>5123657
>STOP, YOU MORONS!

Here goes SOMEthing! ROLL 1d100 TO STOP THE DAMN CARS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! Feel free to include any specific phrases or tactics you use too--they can only help out!
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5123670
Fire our shotgun in the air and do a little hoedown dance.
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>5123670
Just stand there but make sure to armor up if they get too close.
>>
We've BAAAAASICALLY passed this, but I'm still waiting on one last roll--feel free to reroll now!
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5123670
>>
>>5123679
>>5123686
>>5123732
>HIGHEST ROLL: 94!
Well sheesh, that oughta' do 'er! Writing!
>>
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Planting your booted feet firmly on the hot asphalt, you stand like a statue and shake your head–no, you growl, you WON’T! Flicking the ‘switch’ that activates your BONE ARMOR, you stare daggers at the approaching APC and wait. You’re a pedestrian, after all–you’ve got RIGHT OF WAY!

The folks in the convoy don’t seem to care, however–powering up the hill to the parking lot, the military vehicles hardly react as thick, bony plates form over your clothes! Fighting to ignore the sweltering heat inside your armor, you stand firm as the leader of the proverbial ‘pack’ bursts into the parking lot and into a collision course with you!

You can almost feel the heat from the APC against your face when the leader SWERVES to avoid you! Wildly firing its machine gun, its shots and the vehicle itself go wide as the driver struggles to regain control! When the war machine crashes into a parked van, however, it’s clear that isn’t gonna happen. In a vain attempt to correct itself, the APC skids along the pavement sending black smoke and an acrid smell across the lot! Lifting off the ground from four wheels to two, the vehicle finally gives up and tumbles a few times across the pavement before coming to a rest next to the fence.

“Well,” Ly remarks as the APC slowly catches on fire, “guess they weren’t in a talkin’ mood…”

Yea, you mutter, and neither are THEY! You scarcely have time to duck behind cover before the three remaining APCS tear into the parking lot with their machine gun turrets! Circling the parking lot, the lead vehicle resumes taking shots at PAULIE’S TRUCK while the others focus on lighting YOU up! Hunkering down behind a pickup truck close to Talbot, Syb, and Gramps, you allow yourself a few quick breaths–you’ve got at least a few seconds before they rip this car apart, right?

Your answer comes in the form of a hail of bullets tearing your cover in half.

“Yep.” Replies your skeleton.

You’ve got some options here, but diplomacy doesn’t seem like one of them. What’s the plan?
>BLAST AN APC! (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? OTHER ITEM?)
>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS SOMEONE!
>TRY TO HOP ONTO AN APC AND PRY IT OPEN!
>RUSH OVER TO PAULIE’S TRUCK!
>TRY TO GET THE REST OF THE GANG’S ATTENTION!
>WRITE-IN!

Meanwhile, what do your PALS do? The others will support!
>TALBOT CHUCKS SOMETHING AT ‘EM! (WHAT?)
>SYB TRIES A SPELL, HANGOVER BE DAMNED! (WHICH SPELL?)
>GRAMPS DOES SOME FANCY SHARPSHOOTIN’ ON A SMALL TARGET! (VIEWPORTS? WHEELS? SOMETHING ELSE?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5123771
>>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS SOMEONE!
>>TRY TO HOP ONTO AN APC AND PRY IT OPEN!

Tag team like bosses!

>TALBOT CHUCKS SOMETHING AT ‘EM! (WHAT?)
>GRAMPS DOES SOME FANCY SHARPSHOOTIN’ ON A SMALL TARGET!

Make Talbot derail the cars with Goodboynium tentacles and have the Marshall destroy the wheels.
>>
>>5123776
+1ing this
>>
>>5123776
>>5123778
>LITERALLY FUCKING EVERYTHING

Alrighty then, let's do it... Here's what I need: careful, it's a tall order!

ROLL 4d100--ONE FOR EACH ACTION! POP'S SHARPSHOOTING WILL TAKE A -10 PENALTY, HOWEVER DUE TO TRICKY AIMING!

I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 41, 84, 48, 49 = 222 (4d100)

>>5123813
>>
Rolled 62, 23, 91, 70 = 246 (4d100)

>>5123813
>>
Rolled 74, 31, 99, 80 = 284 (4d100)

>>5123813
>>
>>5123814
>>5123831
>>5123872
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>LY: 74!
>STAN: 84!
>TALBOT: 91!
>GRAMPS/POPS/GAM-GAM/BURTON/THE MARSHAL: 70 (subtracting 10 due to moving target)!

Good bit of rolling, you friggin' maniacs. Guess I oughta start writing!
>>
>>5123882
those aren't the right rolls though
>>
>>5123930
>>5123882

Yeah Talbot got a 99, but whatever. We still win.
>>
>>5123930
>>5123935
Whoops, I'm a friggin' idiot. UPDATING!
>>
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Scooting behind what remains of your cover, you snap your fingers a few times to get your layabout skeleton’s attention while Gramps circles around to the other side of his cover.

“Way ahead of ya, cupcake.” Your skeleton replies as he pops out of your body and into his ASTRAL FORM, “Always wanted ta’ drive one of dose’...”

Leaving you with a devious cackle, Ly soars towards the nearest APC and phases through its front! Before you can watch the fireworks, however, another burst of machine gun fire bisects your already-bisected piece of car cover! You were using that, prick!

As you sprint towards a fresh vehicle, you feel a salvo of white-hot bullets rip through the air behind you and graze your armor by mere centimeters! Just when you feel the shooter catch up with you, a series of shots rings out across the lot from where you just came from! Chancing a look towards your attackers, you watch in awe as Pops lets loose on the wheels of the APC closest to them–puncturing holes in the thick tires with a series of rapid precision shots!

As the military vehicle’s tires pop in quick succession, its partners swerve out of the way as the APC sends sparks flying across the lot before LAUNCHING into the air like some kind of video game glitch! Following it up and back down again with your eyes, you just barely manage to notice a pair of thin, metallic tentacles stretched across the ground, both originating from Talbot wearing a look of utter glee on his dumb face!

With two APCs down and slowly burning, you turn your attention to the remaining two–one of which is already swerving to resist Ly’s takeover. Guess that means you get the other! Darting towards your target, you deftly sidestep the APC’s gunfire and leap over the other as it whips around the parking lot! Landing with a dull ‘thud’ next to the turret that took potshots at you, you immediately get to work tearing open the hatch leading inside!

Unfortunately whoever’s in there is smarter than you thought–though you tug, twist, and chip away using your BONE CLAWS, the entrance refuses to open! Talk about a fire hazard! Sensing your intent, the driver inside tries to shake you off, but it ain’t happening!

Just when you’re about to blast the top open with a point-blank ROCKET-PROPELLED GRENADE, you hear the whirr of the turret from behind you! Reaching back with a claw, you cleanly cleave the gun from its tripod, causing it to unceremoniously tumble to the pavement below!

Noticing your handiwork, Talbot peeks out from behind his cover! “THAT’S NOT THE DRIVER, DORK!

You KNOW/i] that, moron!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5123977
While Ly’s APC crashes at full-speed into the first vehicle you indirectly totaled, you feel the one you’re on SPEED UP! Clinging to any handhold you can find, you hang on for dear life as the last remaining APC makes a break for the parking lot exit!

STAAAAN!” Talbot shouts, still not far away enough to warrant it, “DON’T LET ‘EM RUN AWAAAAAY!

You weren’t planning on it, drama queen! Digging your claws into the vehicle’s armor, your mind races for a way to stop this crazy thing!

>CLAW THE TIRES!
>JUMP OFF AND BLAST IT! (LASER EYE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? OTHER ITEM?)
>JUST LET IT GO–WHO CARES? YOU BEAT IT!
>SHOUT A FEW MORE TIMES AT THE HATCH! MAYBE HIT IT, TOO!
>ONE OF YOUR PALS DOES IT FOR YOU! (GRAMPS? SYB? TALBOT? PAULIE? SOMEONE ELSE?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5123979
>CLAW THE TIRES!
>>
>>5123979
>>CLAW THE TIRES!
>>
>>5123979
>CLAW THE TIRES!
>>
>>5123982
>>5123983
>>5124005
>CUT TO THE CHASE!

Simple, but effective! ROLL ME 1d100+5 TO CARVE 'EM UP--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 89 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006
>>
Rolled 69 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006
>>
Feel free to roll again if you've already rolled once--you've basically made it!
>>
Rolled 79 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5124006
>>
>>5124008
>>5124009
>>5124039
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

Writing!
>>
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The wind whips past your armored head as the driver puts the pedal to the metal–seems like they’re REAL eager to hit the road again!

“And dey’ve only just arrived!” Ly rcroons as you pull yourself closer to the edge of the vehicle! Gritting your teeth, you spot the APC’s wheels spinning through the dirt below you and feel a rush of inspiration–one that makes you clamber closer to the side! When you’re certain you’ve got a good grip, you take your BONE CLAWS and rake them through the line of wheels with a satisfying trio of ‘POP’S!

Skidding out of control, the driver fights to avoid swerving, but it’s too late–one bump against an ill-placed boulder in the ground sends the whole thing careening towards what appears to be the ghost town remains of some kind of-

FRUIIIIT CAAAAAAARRRT!

Heeding Ly’s warning, you leap off your ride just as it crashes through the wooden debris! Tumbling like a barrel through the air, the APC makes its final stop amidst a patch of nasty-lookin’ agave plants!

“Well,” Ly remarks as thick plumes of smoke rise from the truck, “Dat’s one way ta’ start da’ day-”

Before he can finish, the hatch falls open revealing a shirtless man save for some hockey padding wearing a GOOD BOY SECURITY GOON MASK AND HELMET COMBO!

“Euugh…” He mutters as he draws his sidearm on you, “Da’ hell you doin’, freak!? You a SKELE-FUCKER or somethin’?!”

Before you can answer, a shot rings out across the desert! Freezing like an ice cube, the driver’s tough exterior quickly melts into a trembling mess as his weapon goes tumbling into the cacti!

“Wouldja’ lookit that…” groans a calm voice approaching from behind you, “I missed!”

You see his hair long before you see the rest of him–pointing towards the looter like the butt of a gun, the skeleton’s pompadour glistens in the morning sun as its owner drags a gold comb through its length!

“Stanley Parble–guess I just saved your life, kitten!” The greaser gives you a wink as he gives you a chummy slap on the back! “Don’t worry, kid–it’s on da’ house!”

Haulie-Paulie, you mutter as a wry grin forms on your face, we meet again!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5124195
https://youtu.be/JenMS9t4byE
“Now don’t take dis’ the wrong way, sis,” Paulie remarks as Talbot and Tucker drop the final unconscious looter in the pile next to his truck, “but I kinda miss da’ ole’ days where us boneheads were the only ones roamin’ the roads!”

Giving the disarmed looter’s gagged and still-squirming form a dirty look, you turn to Paulie and shrug–you don’t really agree, but you get what he’s saying!

“You’d think the roads would be safe after all our hard work…” Art remarks as Syb buries her face in Art’s shoulder. “Well… safer...”

“And you’d think you Rent-A-Cop types would be able ta’ hold on to your wheels!” Replies the greaser as the three gunners inspect the merch in the back of the truck. “A day or so ago these chumps were only packin’ peashooters an’ bricks on wheels, but now they’re findin’ abandoned goodies all over town like Easter Eggs or somethin’!” Giving the pile of looters a scowl of his own, the greaser calms himself by running his comb through his hair once more. “Ah well, whaddaya’ gonna do, huh?”

“Errr, staying off the roads for a bit would be the smart thing to do…” Tucker suggests with a sheepish look on his face.

“HA! And miss out on all my sales? Good thing I’m a dumbass, huh kid?” Nudging Tucker in the ribs, Paulie motions for you to follow him. “Speakin’ of dumbasses, got a little surprise for ya’, sis–hope it didn’t get too banged-up in da’ ride…”

You meet Paulie’s grin with a stony face. If he’s giving you back that damn MOPED you foisted onto him-

“Not unless you want it, sis–da’ customer is always right!” Taking position by the passenger’s seat of the truck, the skeleton raps his knuckles on the door a few times!

“I give to you, my dear, for a limited time only: THE MISSING LINK! Make sure ta’ use small words around him, kid–his head’s got a lotta’ empty space in it, dig?”

Before Paulie can get another word in, a sneakered foot kicks the door open revealing a skeleton greaser wearing a striped shirt you’d recognize anywhere!

“Cripes, Stan–you coulda’ let those maniacs put a few holes in this guy, ya know…”

Dropping to the dirt with a cocky grin on his bony face, STRIPES holds his arms out to give you a hug. “Get in here, sis–it’s rude ta’ keep a guy hangin’!”

And ‘get over there’ you do! Wrapping both Paulie and Stripes in a bear hug, the pains of the morning are swiftly replaced with childlike glee!

“Jeez, Stan, you keep clingin’ to me like this an’ you’ll make those other guys jealous!”

You respond by flipping the one-finger salute behind you. You know what? You don’t care!

“Wow, alright.” Talbot grunts. “Rude, much?”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5124196
“Wyatt says ‘hiya’ of course.” Stripes explains as Paulie confers with the newly-arrived LOUIE THE BARBER. “The big lug woulda’ come along, but he had ta’ replace a whiny belt right when we were about ta’ head out–his words, dig?”

Yea, you giggle, you dig! Watching your pals help load the barber’s supplies into Paulie’s truck, you raise an eyebrow back towards Stripes–how’s he doing?

“You kiddin’? Havin’ the time of my death, sis!” He replies with a grin! “All I do all day is work on cars, make sure things are runnin’ smoothly around da’ DRIVE-IN, an’ pal around wit’ the other boneheads!” Sending a friendly wave towards your Pop-Pop, Stripes leans in and whispers in your ear: “between you an’ me? These old guys got da’ best stories! I was shootin’ the shit with one of those buccaneers you sent us the other night an’ he told me all about this one girl who-”

The skeleton pauses mid-sentence as a realization spreads across his face. “You uh… you know what? That’s uh… that’s more of a guy story.”

But you wanna HEAR iiiiit, you whine! When Stripes holds firm, you stomp your foot a few times. No dice.

“Anyways, things are good, sis–real good. An’ they’ll be even better when we help you kick that TIM guy’s bony butt outta’ that tower of his!”

Damn right, you grin, just like old times, right?

“Well sure,” Stripes replies with a cheeky grin, “Minus Cliff pretendin’ ta’ be someone else an’ makin’ it look like we’re about ta’ sell ya’ out, of course!”

Shaking the barber’s hand, Paulie lights a fresh cigarette and leans against his truck.

“Heard that’s the last of the PARTY GOODS.” Stripes remarks with a nod of his head. “Atta’ girl, Stan–might wanna start drinkin’ water now, cuz’ you’re gonna get a LOTTA free drinks once we’re all set up!”

You’d better, you retort! So did he just come along to see you, or?

“Well I’m supposed ta’ help Paulie run the shop,” Stripes explains, lighting a cigarette of his own, “Buuut he looks like he’s got it under control.” Taking a long, thoughtful puff, the greaser gives you a serious look. “Cliff asked me ta’ come too–wanted me ta’ give you a message.”

You blink–what’s he talking about? The skeleton leans in close again, close enough to be sure that no one else can hear.

“He says to watch out for your employers… and everyone else workin’ for ‘em.” Leaning back to give Mitzi a wave as her tired eyes watch you both, the greaser ends the message with a shrug. “Nothin’ you didn’t already know, of course, but still.” Placing his smoke back in his mouth, Stripes gives you a fresh smile.

“Good ta’ see ya, kid–go talk to da’ others if ya’ want. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Good idea!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5124198
While the others continue to load up the truck, what do you do FIRST? You probably have time for THREE THINGS, TOPS!

>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE!
>CHECK IN WITH ONE OF YOUR PALS (WHO?)
>CHAT WITH LOUIE THE BARBER!
>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5124201
That's all for tonight, folks--got MAD TIRED all of a sudden! Should have more MONDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST, but I'll let you know if plans change! Thanks for playing and hope to see you next time!
>>
>>5124201
>>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!
>>
>>5124203
>>5124201

Wait. Let's interrogate the looter too. Maybe we can squeeze some extra pongos out of him.
>>
>>5124206
Now you're thinking materialistically, anon. +1


Let's not forget Talbot owes us the full truth of what he remembers from being Mr. X, whenever we find a moment out of earshot.
>>
>>5124206
+1ing this.
>>
>>5124201
>>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!
First
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE!
I like the dude, the greasers have been my boys since thread two when we called that dice roll.

>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!

We've been hoarding pongos like a dragon obsessed with the latest 90s, it might be time to power up via capitalism
>>
>>5124201
>SHOP WITH HAULIE-PAULIE!
>INTERROGATE THE LOOTER!
>>
>>5124206
>>5124207
>>5124215
>>5124237
>>5124413
>INTERROGATE: 5
>SHOP: 5
>STRIPES: 1

I think this is the order we'll follow. Since a few of these will no doubt have some branching options, just keep in mind the order we discussed--we'll get to 'em!

>>5124207
Talbot DOES owe you the truth--don't let that snake weasel outta' it...

Writing!
>>
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You give Stripes a smile as you begin walking towards the PILE O’ PRISONERS near the back of the truck. You’ll get back to him once you’ve uh… introduced yourself to your new pal!

“You call yer’ pal Stripes if he gives you lip, dig?”

You’ll definitely think about it! Waving the skeleton away, you firmly plant your feet in front of the sole conscious LOOTER lying bound and gagged on a pile of his snoozing pals. Guess everyone had their seatbelts on, huh?

“You wanna have a little chit-chat, doll?” Asks one of the two armed skelegreasers guarding the pile. “Head’s up– he’s a bit of a wet rag, dig?”

Yea, you sigh, you’ve got a lot of experience dealing with jerks. Exchanging shrugs, the sentries wordlessly remove the gag from the looter’s mask filter, prompting a series of pained coughs from the prisoner!

“Acck! Ptth… Fuckin’ idiots! You know how hard it is to breathe through this goddamn gimp mask!?” Turning his rage-filled eye lenses your way, the looter greets you with a bestial growl!

“Oh look, BONE-BLOWER’S back! Hey, you let me go right now and fight me like a human–I’ll show you how that shoulda played out, you cheatin’ motherfucker…”

Man, this guy is all-smiles, huh? Tapping your foot on the dirt impatiently, you decide to start slow–what’s his name?

“Go.”

You blink in surprise–what kind of weird-ass name is-

“Go FUCK Yerself!”

Ah. Must be foreign. Alright, you continue with a crack of your neck, here’s how it’s gonna go-

“Sorry, bitch, I don’t speak CHINCHILLA or whatever the fuck you are!” The looter spits through his mask! “Let me go or get your boyfriends to put a bullet in my head already–I got shit ta’ do!”

“Real charmer, dis’ one.” Ly remarks as the captive tries to kick sand at you! Yea, you agree, thoughtfully rubbing your chin, you’ve never been called a chihuahua before!

“Sounds like we’re gonna need ta’ soften’ dis’ tough guy up a bit first…” Ly sighs. “If we really DO need somethin’ outta’ him, dat’ is… Any ideas?”

Glancing around the parking lot, a few come to mind…

>SCARE TACTICS! YOU’VE GOT BONE CLAWS AND STUFF–HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW YOU AREN’T GONNA USE ‘EM!
>WORK HIS FACE A BIT–IT’S NOT LIKE THERE’S A GENOA CONVENTION HERE!
>YOU ATTRACT MORE BEES WITH HONEY, OR WHATEVER–GIVE HIM SOMETHING! (BEER? SNACKS? MERMAID SMUT? OTHER ITEMS?)
>GET A FRIEND TO HELP OUT! (WHO?)
>HEY, DOESN’T THAT REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK HAVE A ‘HONK’ FUNCTION?
>LEAVE THIS CHUMP FOR NOW–YOU’RE WASTING TIME.
>JUST KILL THIS JERK--YOU’RE LOSING STREET CRED BY THE SECOND!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5124820
> WRITE-IN!
Start heating up his mask with our MAKESHIFT FLAMETHROWER. Shining our flashlight at him would be good too.
>>
>>5124820
>HEY, DOESN’T THAT REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK HAVE A ‘HONK’ FUNCTION?
>>
>>5124820
>>5124842

+1 taunt the fucker. Picrel
>>
>>5124842
>>5124876
>FLAME ON!

>>5124849
>THE DUCKENING!

Looks like we're turning up the heat a little! WRITING!
>>
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You give your conversation partner a disappointed look before rummaging through your pockets. Gotta be in here somewhere…

“I TOLD you already, bitch–let me go or KILL me! Or just take your cinnamon-scented ass away from me, I don’t give a fuck!”

Hey, you don’t need options from him–you’re perfectly capable of coming up with your own! Case in point: finding the item you’re looking for, you remove your trusty MAKESHIFT FLAMETHROWER from your pants along with your FLASHLIGHT. Sensing something in the works, both of the hostage’s guards exchange worried glances before taking a few steps back. Smart.

“Yea, that’s right–kill a guy when he’s bound-up. You sure as shit couldn’t handle this if my arms were free.”

Yep, yep, yep, you mutter as you kneel in front of him, you’ve heard it before! Igniting the lighter taped to the end of the flamethrower, you stick your tongue out in concentration as you point your light in the guy’s face and flick it on!

“AGH!” He grunts with more irritation than pain, “Cut that shit out, idiot!”

All in good time, you reply as you begin heating the side of his mask with your flamethrower. The prisoner tries to squirm away at first, but being bound up and you being pretty spry all things considered, the attempt proves to be futile at best! As the mask’s plastic slowly grows shinier, your new pal fills the air with a high-pitched shriek! Undeterred, you continue your dark work on his mask while you repeatedly flick the flashlight on and off–is he ready to be NICE yet?!

“NNGH! AGFK… FUCK… FUCK YOU!” He hisses through clenched teeth! Guess not, huh? Pressing the lighter closer against the mask, you’re rewarded with an unsettling hissing noise as a few bubbles form on the plastic!

“AAAIIIIIEEEE!” He screams, wrenching his head away from you and tumbling to the pavement! As you move to follow, the looter furiously shakes his head as trails of smoke rise from his cheek!

“ALRIGHTAlrIGHTALRIIIIGHT, you WIN, damn it! Fuckin’ PSYCHO probably scarred me for life!”

Lowering your implements of torture for now, you give your captive a genial smile–you still can, you know…

“N-no!” He sputters, voice quickly losing its aggressive tone! “Y-you wanna talk?! Fine–I’ll be the talkinest-damn guy you ever saw, I swear!”

“Damn, cupcake,” Ly remarks as you allow yourself a triumphant ‘ha HA’, “Yer’ one messed-up cookie, ain’t ya?”

Messed up like a FOX, you cackle, earning an uneasy stare from both your prisoner and his guards! Letting your laughter trail off into a sigh, you adopt a more serious face as you ask your previous question again: what’s his GODDAMN NAME?!

“Joe…” he replies in a terse voice. “Joe Mama…”

“HAH!” Ly exclaims, “I kinda like dis’ guy!”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5124916
As you move to ‘persuade’ him some more, the looter violently shakes his head! “NoNONONO it’s my real name–I SWEAR! Ch-check my wallet!”

With mild trepidation, you cautiously reach into his pants pocket for the proof you seek. Just when you start to feel eyes on your back, you find it–a light DUCT-TAPE WALLET empty save for TWO DOLLARS, A CONDOM, AND A ROLPH’S GROCERY STORE MEMBER’S CARD! examining the latter, you do a double-take when you read your captive’s name aloud: ’JOSEF MAMA!’

Letting the card drop to the pavement, you look at him with a mixture of confusion and pity–you’re not sure if you should envy him or not!

“Just let me go, damn it!”

That wasn’t one of the choices, JOE! But that’s alright–you’ve got a few lined up for him:

>WHAT’S HIS DEAL? WHY IS HE BANDITING?
>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?
>WHO’S THE BIG CHEESE? YOU WANNA TALK TO THEM!
>WHY SHOULD I LET YOU GO?
>NEVER MIND, I’LL TALK TO YOU LATER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5124919
Whoops, almost forgot:

DO YOU TAKE ANYTHING ELSE FROM HIS WALLET?
>>
>>5124919
>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?
>>
>>5124919
>>WHAT’S HIS DEAL? WHY IS HE BANDITING?
>>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?

Take all his pongos and that driver’s license— worst punishment we can give him is a trip to the DMV (or whatever in-universe equivalent of that)
>>
>>5124930
Might wanna re-read that, pal-he's got 2 dollars and a grocery store membership card. Chances are he's already due a trip to the DMV, especially after that shameful driving back there!

Also as a quick aside, I FINALLY cleaned up the INVENTORY PASTEBIN a little! It's now been updated and organized into smaller categories! Go check it out!
>>
>>5124961
>>5124930

Alright, just gonna change my vote to:
>>DOES HE HAVE ANY PONGOS ON HIM?

And let him keep the license.
>>
>>5124929
>>5125005
>PONGOS!
>AND TAKE THE 2 DOLLARS!

Writing!
>>
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Surreptitiously pocketing the man’s 2 DOLLARS, your greed, unsurprisingly, isn’t sated! Crossing your arms with a stern look on your face, you ask the bandit where he keeps his PONGOS!

“... what the fuck are you talkin’ about? What are ‘PONGERS?’”

Retrieving a random example from your PONGO POUCH, you shove the disc depicting a drunken cat in your prisoner’s face! THIS, you snarl, THIS is a PONGO! Where are they?!

“Oooh,” Joe nods, eye lenses lighting up in realization, “Yea, I know what a PONGER is! Tell you what–you promise to let me go an’ I’ll tell you where to find some!”

You idly flick your flamethrower’s lighter on and off next to his face. Why should you trust him?

“L-look, we’ve been stealin’--that’s true, but the whole town’s gone ta’ hell!” Joe exclaims, pulling his face away from your toy! “We’ve collected other stuff–weapons, food, meds–we don’t need friggin’ discs, you know?”

What you know, you growl, is that he’s wasting your time! Leaning in closer, you ask him again: why should you trust him?!

“Because I’d rather not DIE, alright? You gimme your word that you’ll let me go and I’ll give you your toys! Hell, you can have ‘em in a minute! Can’t find ‘em if I’m dead, though!”

You click your tongue in annoyance. And what about his other knocked-out pals?

“Them?” He asks, glancing between you and the pile he rolled out of, “Shit, free ‘em, kill ‘em, eat ‘em if it makes you and your skeleton pals happy–I just wanna get outta here!”

As you mull the idea over in your mind, a dusty lamp flickers on inside your head–and what’s he gonna do once he goes free, exactly?

“Fuck do you care? You’ll never see me again!” Joe shrugs. “I’m keepin’ far away from freaky RACCOON-THINGS from now on, that’s for damn sure! I see you on the road? I’m headin’ for a whole other zip code!”

You respond to his terms with a noncommittal ‘huh.’ If what he’s saying is true you could grab some more PONGOS, but is that the uh… the ethnical choice here?

What’s the verdict?
>NOPE! KILL THIS SUCKER!
>YOU AGREE! WHERE ARE THE DAMN PONGOS?
>YOU’LL HAVE TO CONSULT WITH PAULIE FIRST–JOE DID TRY TO ROB HIM!
>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5125035
>>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!
>>
>>5125035
>DEAL, BUT HE AND HIS FRIENDS HAVE TO STOP BANDITING!
>>
>>5125054
>>5125055
>SWIPER, NO SWIPING!
>SWIPER, NO SWIPING!
>SWIPER, NOOOOOO SWIPING!

Writing!
>>
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Staring daggers into your prisoner’s masked face, you relent with a resigned shrug. Fine, you sigh, but he AND his little pals are through being bandits! No more swiping, y’hear? Joe looks somewhat relieved, but not fully-satisfied.

“Lemme get this straight–you want me to convince all of these guys,” He begins, pointing to the pile next to him, “to stop looting? You’re dumber than you look!”

The looter barely gets his words out of his mouth before you bring your FLAMETHROWER back up to his cheek! And he’s gonna be much UGLIER than he looks when you melt his damn face off! It’s a good deal–one he’d better take!

“Alright, Jesus!” He stammers, shying away from the flame on instinct! “Just make sure your little friends here uphold the deal too!”

You give a nod to his guards.

“You da’ boss, sis!” Replies one of the greasers! “If ya’ ask me, though, I think yer’ lettin’ dis’ square off easy!”

Good thing you didn’t ask, you snarl, pointing the flamethrower at the sentry’s immaculately-groomed hair! Looking to Paulie for confirmation, you get a thumb’s up and a shiny grin from the skeleton as he sticks a fresh smoke in his mouth. Guess that’s that, then. Payment time!

“Yea, yea, keep yer’ fuckin’ pants on…” Joe grumbles. “Okay–you see that APC there with the busted tires?”

Following the looter’s gaze, you spot the vehicle Talbot and Pops totaled still spewing smoke into the air. Yea?

“There’s a compartment in the dashboard to hold documents or someshit–my buddy Omar was drivin’ it and was collecting those stupid toys. There oughta’ be a few in there.”

You answer your captive with a frown–he doesn’t sound very convinced.

“Well I can’t really get up and check now, can I?” He snaps, nodding his head towards his still-bound legs. “He had some, alright? Do me a favor an’ break your ugly skull climbin’ into that damn thing!”

Giving his mask one last sizzle, you leave Joe Mama in a writhing, screaming heap without even saying goodbye. A few minutes of climbing in and out of the wreck later, you emerge about 10 PONGOS RICHER! Sweet!

“Great, hope you choke on ‘em!” Joe shouts, prompting one of the guards to bash him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle! As the looter groans in pain, the other greaser reapplies the gag and shoots you a friendly thumb’s up. FINALLY!

PASTEBIN UPDATED! PONGO COUNT: 152! +50 FROM PAULIE CREDIT = 202!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5125226
Your business concluded with Joe Mama, you take your newfound wealth over to Haulie-Paulie to get some new business started! Seeing you approaching with your PONGO POUCH in hand, the skeleton can barely contain his excitement as he retrieves a clipboard from the inside of his jacket! Holding it out to you with shaky hands, the greaser shoots you a conspiratorial grin!

“You mighta’ been busy, sis, but so have I! Got a few new things for sale–some of ‘em you ain’t gonna find anywhere else!”

Taking the ledger from him, you take a closer look and nearly double over–he ain’t kiddin’!

>CONTD. ON NEXT POST!
>>
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>>5125231
https://youtu.be/JenMS9t4byE
THE EM’PAULIE’UM INVENTORY:

PONGOS: 202 (WITH CREDIT)

BUNNY SUIT: 200 PONGOS (Same as the Powered Coveralls, but L-LEWDER)
POWERED JANITOR COVERALLS: 175 PONGOS (Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger)
VAN ARMOR: 150 PONGOS (Flashy armor for the van making it more durable!)
PAL PROTECTOR: 130 PONGOS (A prototype shield based on the van’s shield tech. Will give a pal of your choice some more armor!)
ARMOR OF PLHA’AT: 125 PONGOS (Wearing this flimsy armor will turn ONE critfail into a minor fail, breaks upon use.
REPAIR WRENCH: 120 PONGOS (A few thwacks of this will repair your van in SECONDS! Reusable!)
LUCKY LICORICE: 100 PONGOS (Eating allows ONE ROLL to be REROLLED--QM takes the HIGHEST)
SNEAKERS: 90 PONGOS (Designed for sneaking about, hence the name. Will give a boost to STEALTH ROLLS.)
ILLEGAL DUCK PARTS: 75 PONGOS (Step-by-step instructions for illegally modifying your REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK with laser eyes.)
BERRY DELICIOUS: 60 PONGOS (A rare cookbook specializing in berry-related dishes.)
FLIMSY REPAIR WRENCH: 50 PONGOS (One-use wrench that can thwack a van or machine back into working order in no time!)
LASER SIGHT: 50 PONGOS (Fits most firearms and assists in aiming. Gives you a boost to blasting people with that particular weapon!)
A BOX OF SNAKES: 50 PONGOS (What the name says–one box of snakes, alive, of course!)
MARROW MUG: 50 PONGOS (Allows the storage of ONE DRAUGHT of MARROW for later healing use. Refillable.)
FIREARMS FOR IDIOTS: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to SHOOTING ROLLS!)
STAFF STUFF: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to MOP ROLLS!)
MANIPULATING OTHERS: 40 PONGOS (Reading this permanently gives you a boost to DIPLOMACY ROLLS!)
BONE-PROOF VEST: 30 PONGOS (Reduces the damage you or your party member receives--can turn a NASTY attack into a MINOR one!)
NOVELTY SHARK FIN: 30 PONGOS (Turn a relaxing day at the beach into a WACKY one!)
DISPOSABLE REBREATHER: 20 PONGOS (Provides a fresh supply of oxygen… for an hour or so.)
ALL-NIGHT ENERGY DRINK: 20 PONGOS (Gives you a moderate SPEED boost, but leaves you lethargic after about an hour…)
GREASER SKELETON PLUSH: 20 PONGOS (An adorable plush of a Greaser Skeleton!)
SKATEBOARD: 20 PONGOS (Hope you know how to ride this thing.)
HANGOVER HELPER: 10 PONGOS (This stuff really works! Poison, alcohol, neurotoxin-this baby takes care of it all!)
BUG SPRAY: 10 PONGOS (Keeps bugs and other stuff away–also a handy flamethrower tool.)
FROST GRENADE: 10 PONGOS (Freezes enemies in their tracks!)
ACID GRENADE: 10 PONGOS (Melts through your foes!)
BONE BRAU: 10 PONGOS (A 12-Pack of the finest Skeleton-themed lager around! Drink responsibly!)
SKELE-SMOKES: 10 PONGOS (Cigarettes for the classy Skeleton Apocalypse survivor!)


>I’LL BUY (WHAT?)
>NEVERMIND FOR NOW!
>DO YOU HAVE ANY (WRITE-IN WITHIN REASON)?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5125236
>POWERED JANITOR COVERALLS: 175 PONGOS (Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger)
GREASER SKELETON PLUSH: 20 PONGOS (An adorable plush of a Greaser Skeleton!)
>>
>>5125236
>BUNNY SUIT: 200 PONGOS (Same as the Powered Coveralls, but L-LEWDER)
>>
>>5125236
>BUNNY SUIT
>BUNNY SUIT
>BUNNY SUIT
BOING BOING MOTHERFUCKERS!
>>
>>5125249
>COVERALLS AND GREASER PLUSH!

>>5125256
>>5125259
>...

Writing! Hope this was enough time to mull things over!
>>
>>5125385

>tfw we best an immortal lich in a bunnysuit
>>
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You take your time peering over Paulie’s wares–making doubly-sure to read the detailed descriptions! After a few increasingly-irritated reminders from Ly, you remember that you have about 202 PONGOS to spare–enough to buy quite a few items!

But no matter how hard you fight it, your gaze continues to gravitate towards one particular item–one that you can only manage to point a trembling finger at once you’re absolutely certain no one else is looking your way!

“What’s up, kid? Can’t read one of the names?” Haulie-Paulie asks as he looks over your shoulder! “Don’t worry–I’m more than qualified ta’ read off my own sto-oh.

Without looking up from the page, you manage to stammer out a few shaky words: D-d-does i-it r-rea-really p-p-power you u-up?

“Errr, o-of course!” Paulie sputters as he drags his golden comb through his hair with quaking fingers! “Somethin’ weird about dat’ one–didn’t try it on myself for obvious reasons, but take one look at it an’ you’ll see, kid: there’s somethin’ MAGICAL about it!” Regaining some of his confidence, the skeleton leans closer and whispers into your ear. “I uh… it might work worn under other stuff, ya’ know. Just sayin’.”

Nodding silently, you robotically shake 200 PONGOS out of your pouch and into the greaser’s waiting hand. Counting them one by one, Haulie-Paulie gives you a genuine, if somewhat forced, smile!

“Done deal, sis! I’ll uh…” he explains, dropping his booming voice down to a whisper, “... I’ll put it in a BAG, dig?

Yea, you squeak, trying and failing to hide the growing redness in your cheeks, you uh… you dig.

While the greaser heads into the truck to pack up your merchandise, you take the first real breath you’ve had in a few minutes. Wiping a few rogue sweat drops from your forehead, you give Kiki, Art, and Mitzi a forced, but still friendly wave as they continue to help load hair products into the truck!

“Aaaand here ya’ go, sis!” Paulie announces as he hands you a paper shopping bag with his face emblazoned on the side! “Not bad, huh? Brand Recognition!”

Peering inside, you can just barely see something black inside a sealed plastic wrapper they put Halloween costumes in! Squinting to get a better look, you can almost taste some sort of… aura around your purchase–one that implicitly tells you that Paulie wasn’t lying!

BUNNY OUTFIT: When worn, you’ll gain a small BONEUS to STRENGTH, DEFENSE, AND SPEED checks! ALL OF ‘EM! Good luck wearing it, though.

PASTEBIN UPDATED: PONGO COUNT = 2!


“Oh yea, before I forget…” Paulie adds, producing a can with the words HANGOVER HELPER on the side, “Give yer’ pale pal one of these from me, yea? On the house!”

Pocketing the freebie and your purchase with a nod of thanks, you contemplate your next move!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5125425
Now that that’s settled, what’s next?

>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)
>CHECK IN WITH ONE OF YOUR PALS (WHO?)
>CHAT WITH LOUIE THE BARBER!
>GO CHANGE CLOTHES INSIDE!
>IT’S ABOUT TIME YOU HIT THE ROAD!
>WRITE-IN!

Probably signing off for the night here–busy prepping for tomorrow. Should be ready for a fresh update TUESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST, though! Thanks again for playing and hope to see you then–if I get things done tonight I’ll try to whip up another update or two!
>>
>>5125431
>>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)

Changing can come when we're not in the vicinity of all of our compadres.
>>
>>5125431
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)
>>
>>5125431
>TALK TO STRIPES SOME MORE! (AS PLANNED EARLIER)

>“Oh yea, before I forget…” Paulie adds, producing a can with the words HANGOVER HELPER on the side, “Give yer’ pale pal one of these from me, yea? On the house!”
I would have suggested buying this for Syb anyway, but that works, too.

So, anybody else into searching for the missing people at some point when we return to the lodge? That's some sidequest bait we passed up on.
>>
>>5125452
>>5125453
>>5125563
>SPEAK WITH STRIPES!

Writing the last update of the evening! SURPRISE!
>>
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You’re not exactly eager to try out your new duds, especially with so many of your friends making a surprise appearance lately. CHANGING ROOMS or not, you don’t want Stripes flapping his, er, jawbone about your recent purchase!

So instead you whistle to Art and chuck the can of HANGOVER HELPER his way, which he catches!

… with his face.

DAMN IT, STAN!” He growls, tumbling to the ground, “Why the HELL are you throwing it OVERHAND?!

That’s how you throw, you spit as the Rent-A-Cop staggers back to his feet clutching the growing goose egg on his noggin. Wuss! Not patient enough to wait for him to recover, you point to the can and then to his still-zombie-like gal-pal–that’ll fix her right up! Courtesy of HAULIE PAULIE!

“Thanks, Paulie!” Art graciously shouts, prompting a laugh and thumb’s up from the greaser! “And thank YOU, Stan…”

Okay, that wasn’t nearly as grateful! Not bothering to pick up the proverbial ‘rope’ this time around, you turn your attention to Stripes who is already watching the events unfold with glee! “Man, the more things change, da’ more they stay the same, huh sis? Except for your doll friend turnin’ human, that is.” The greaser takes a puff from his smoke as he sends an uncertain look in Art’s direction. “And uh… her and him...”

Don’t even start, you groan as you pick a spot next to him and lean back! Letting out a long, satisfied breath, you notice Stripes peering at your bag with interest. “Whatcha’ get, sis?”

THINGS! You shriek, hugging the bag close to your chest like a baby about to be snatched! Just… just SURVIVAL THINGS! The skeleton gives you a long, hard look as his cigarette slowly burns away in his mouth.

“... Huh. ‘Things’ it is, then.”

Damn straight, you growl, refusing to let go of your spoils! A-anyways, you continue, does he have time to, y’know, catch up?

“Dunno, Stan–I’m a very busy man, y’know!” Delivering the line with a stone-cold look on his face, you nearly believe him until he bursts into laughter! “Cripes, sis, I’ve always got time for you! What’s on your mind?”

Good question! Something tells you you have enough time for THREE TOPICS:

>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>WHAT DOES HE THINK ABOUT YOUR CURRENT TEAM?
>DOES HE HAVE ANY DATING ADVICE? NOT THAT YOU NEED ANY, THAT IS!
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5125620
>>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>>
>>5125620
I wake up and there's been a coomer invasion in the quest? WTF?

>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>>
>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>YOU’RE ONE LIEUTENANT AWAY–DOES HE KNOW HOW THE GOOD SKELLYS ARE GONNA HELP IN THE FINAL FIGHT?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>>
>>5125620
WhT everybody else is sayin alcohol isn't conducive to posting.
>>
>>5125620
And is Stan that stacked on the chest ?
>>
>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>>
>>5125620
>CLIFF, WYATT, HIM… HOW’S THE TRIO DOING, ANYWAYS?
>HOW ARE THE PIRATES AND SOLDIERS FITTING IN AROUND CAMP?
>HAS HE HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THOSE MISSING HUMANS LATELY?
>>
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>>5125706
I know, right? Look at these jabronis.

>>5125730
Cheers, anon! Hope it was fun!

>>5125731
>pic related

>>5125625
>>5125706
>>5125724
>>5126280
>>5126429
Vote Tally:
>THE TRIO: 4
>PIRATES AND SOLDIERS: 4
>MISSING HUMANS: 5
>FINAL FIGHT: 2

Looks like TRIO, PIRATES & SOLDIERS, and MISSING HUMANS wins it! Writing!
>>
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HE is, you begin, causing a grin to form on the skeleton’s face! And Wyatt… and Cliff. How are they all doing, anyways?

“Oh…” Stripes mutters, clearly misreading your intentions, “Well like I said, sis, can’t really complai-”

Yea, yea, you interrupt with a stern look on your face, but how are they REALLY doing? He can’t lie to his BOSS--it’s a law! Opening his mouth to say something, the greaser falters and lets out a resigned sigh.

“Alright, ya’ got me.” He groans, puffing away on his cigarette. “Truth is, kid, we’re uh… well I’m kinda…” Stripes pauses to run a comb through his already-immaculately-kept hair. “Scared, I guess.”

You blink at the bonehead’s sudden change in demeanor. What the hell’s he talking about? Didn’t they just whip up a whole base and stuff?

“Hell yea we did!” Stripes exclaims, puffing out his chest with pride! “I just… I dunno, Stan–everything’s tellin’ me I oughta be excited, dig? I got my life back, my friends, I’m gonna help you stomp TIM’S ugly skull in, but even wit’ all that, I still feel…” The skeleton’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What’s the word… uneasy?

Well yea, you shrug, no one said it’d be easy!

“You’re right–I’m probably just thinkin’ too much–never really did that a lot when I still had skin, y’know?” The skeleton lets out a quiet chuckle. “I let my LOOKS do the talkin’! Ha ha…”

Giving him a polite laugh, you can tell that it wasn’t enough. Taking another long, pensive drag from his cigarette, the skeleton looks skyward for a moment.

“Sorry… I know ya’ didn’t come over to hear me bitch an’ moan.”

He doesn’t have to apologize at all, you huff, you were the one who dug! Besides, you continue with growing unease in your chest, expressing your feelings is… well, it’s tough! He’s doing a helluva lot better than you do!

“Hah-score one for Stripes!” The skeleton laughs in a much more convincing tone! “It ain’t all bad, kid–it’s just a bit unsettlin’, dig? Wyatt’s just buried in fixin’ stuff up all da’ time, an’ CLIFF?” The greaser shakes his head as he puffs another cloud into the air. “Well, Cliff’s Cliff...”

>CONTD.
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>>5127073
You respond with a click of your tongue–he DID seem a bit more serious than the others even before he took over for Rocky…

“Well the thing is, sis, Cliff was always pretty serious.” Stripes replies. “Like, you an’ everyone else would be on, what, step 2?” The skeleton’s face scrunches up as he trips over his metaphor. “And… and Cliff would already be on Step 7. Always caught up in here.” He explains, tapping a bony finger against his skull.

Okay, you say, cocking your head to the side, but what’s different then?

“Wish I knew, kid. Wish I knew…” Stripes shrugs, letting the remains of his cigarette fall to the ground. “Guy just seems… trapped, I guess. Like he sees a train comin’, but he can’t get off the tracks, dig?”

Blinking at the explanation, you cross your arms and frown–no, you mutter, you don’t dig. Seeing your expression darken, Stripes stretches his arms out and lazily shrugs! “Aaaaah, don’t think about it too hard, sis–you’ll give yourself a headache! It’s just nerves, is all–once we have dis’ party and take down the big cheese, well-” The greaser pauses as he searches for the rest of his sentence. “... well, that’ll be that, I guess.”

Yea, you sigh, can’t friggin’ wait!

Stripes stares at you for a moment before fetching another cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket. “Yea,” he mumbles, “me neither…”

>CONTD.
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>>5127079
Sensing that the conversation could use a change of topic, you opt to ask Stripes about his new pals–how are the soldiers and the pirates getting along?

“Feels like school all over again, sis,” He replies as an amused look forms on his face. “Y’know, with all the different crowds and stuff? It’s a riot!” Pushing off of the truck, the skeleton rapidly shifts between soldier and pirate impressions–marching one second, drunkenly stumbling the next! “Some of da’ soldier boys are real uptight, dig? We’re talkin’ poles so far up their asses they might as well be lollipops! But then you’ve got the ones who party more than WE do!”

Huh, you respond, grinning at the picture forming in your head, must be an old guy thing, huh?

“Dat’s the best part!” Stripes laughs, “They ALL got it–Minutemen, Civil War, G.I’s from Korea an’ some war startin’ wit’ a ‘V’... Some of ‘em are even crazier than the pirates–get dis’: we’ve got a guy from the OLD days, dig? An’ I mean OLD! Guy was a rifleman in da’ Constitutional Army or somethin’--one second he’s flappin’ his gums about Redcoats or some crap, but the next he’s teachin’ us all how ta’ brew hooch outta’ crap we found in da’ woods! Kooky guy, sis.”

Sounds like they’re getting along, then, you remark, earning a nod from the skeleton.

“You bet we are–learnin’ all kinds of stuff too: I was workin’ in da’ shop the other day an’ some pilot was teachin’ me an’ a few buccaneers how ta’ put a helicopter together! Can you believe it?! STRIPES THE AVIATOR!

Catching yourself drooling at the thought of owning a helicopter, you manage to wipe your spit onto your sleeve before it gets grody! Does that mean you’ll be getting AERIAL SUPPORT in the FINAL BATTLE?

“Da’ sky’s da’ limit!” Stripes chuckles, pointing his finger skyward! “Until I crash it into a tree, that is. But before that, sure!”

Gazing into the sky for a few more moments, the greaser turns to face you again with a shocked look on his face! “Dang, I nearly forgot–those two Frenchies you saved say ‘bonjour’ or whatever! When they ain’t tryin’ ta kill each other, that is…”

Andre and The Marquis, you mutter under your breath, you can almost hear the shouting…

“Dat’ ain’t even the worst of it!” Stripes groans! “They’re just… they’re always swordfightin’... ALWAYS. It was kinda hip at first, but now?” The greaser shivers. “The clangin’ metal… it HAUNTS me…”

>CONTD.
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>>5127082
Speaking of ‘haunts’, you segue, what’s the word on those MISSING HUMANS lately? Mulling over your question with a thoughtful expression, Stripes puffs a few more clouds of smoke before answering.

“Funny ya’ mention it–Paulie’s been hoppin’ mad about those looter guys as of late. Kept talkin’ about how they’ve been gettin’ meaner n’ meaner with all these new toys…” Glancing in Joe Mama’s direction, the greaser sends an impolite gesture in the bandit’s direction. “Didn’t really believe it until this ride.”

Yea, you growl, but what’s that gotta do with anything? You asked about MISSING HUMANS, damn it!

“I’m gettin’ there, jeez!” Stripes groans! “Word is, those looters have just been findin’ GOOD BOY wheels just lyin’ around! Like the owners just got out to take a whizz or somethin’!”

You respond with a frown–so they aren’t even fighting back? Chumps!

“I couldn’t tell ya, sis, but I will say this: from what we’ve gathered, only SMALL GROUPS have been goin’ missin’. Larger convoys? They’re doin’ fine from what we’ve seen!” A scowl forms on the skeleton’s face. “A bit too fine if ya’ ask me–can barely go for a drive anymore without nearly havin’ yer head taken off by one of those trigger-happy goons!” Puffing away angrily, Stripes shifts his sour look in your direction! “Didn’t you tell ‘em about the meetin’ we set up? Jokers never showed up!”

Of course you did, you snap–it’s not your fault that BORIS would rather piss you off than help everyone out!

“Yea, yea, knowin’ you you probably did all ya’ could…” Stripes nods, cooling down a little bit. “Anyways, whatever’s makin’ those Rent-A-Cops leave their wheels is stickin’ ta’ smaller prey, dig? An’ it hasn’t hassled us at all.”

“Only HUMANS are goin’ missin’, huh?” Ly muses as you rub your chin in thought. Yea, you mutter, lucky you!

>CONTD.
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>>5127085
Before you can continue, your conversation is put on hold by the arrival of a well-groomed pompadour sticking its business end between you both!

“Hate ta’ cut the reunion short, kids,” Haulie-Paulie explains in an apologetic tone, “but we gotta hit da’ road…”

Looking past Paulie, you watch as the other greasers methodically chuck their unconscious prisoners into the back of the truck. Guess he’s got them covered, then.

“Don’t sweat it, sis–we’ll dump ‘em on da’ side of the road once we get back into CLEARWATER.” Paulie explains as you all watch Eddie and Tucker join in on the loading. Works for you!

“Sorry, Stan–lotsa work ta’ be done!” Stripes laughs with a sarcastic shrug! “Don’t want the bossman here ta’ burst a gasket!”

“Yea, you’ve been a huge help…” Paulie mutters, shaking his head at the greaser. “Anywho, thanks again, Stan–for everything. You know who to call if ya’ need anything else, yea?”

“An’ don’t even think of skippin’ out on our PARTY!” Stripes exclaims as he sends an ‘I’m watchin’ you’ gesture your way! Yea, yea, you scoff, you’ll try to make it!

“That’s our boss!” Stripes laughs before pulling you into another hug! “You uh… you take care of yourself, dig?”

Yea, you nod as you look into Stripe’s eye sockets, you dig, damn it! It's not like you TRY to make everyone wanna kill you!

“Swell!” Paulie smiles. “Anything else ya’ need, Stan?”

Good question–what’s next on the agenda?
>ONE MORE THING, PAULIE!
>JUST A MINUTE, STRIPES!
>YOU WANNA CHAT WITH JOE MAMA FOR A SEC!
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5127090
>>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>>
Gonna leave this open for tonight, folks--gotta get ready for bed. Sorry for the few updates--should have some more WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Maybe we'll be back on the road by then--who can say?
>>
>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>>
>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
Time to return to the HQ.
>>
>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>>
>>5127090
>NOPE–HAPPY TRAILS!
>>
>>5127094
>>5127451
>>5127459
>>5127574
>>5128007
>NOPE!

Writing!
>>
Yea, you reply–you need him to stow away more often! It was good seeing him after, what, three updates?

“A few more than that, but I appreciate da’ sentiment, kid.” Tousling your WOLF CUT, the greaser gives your new ‘do a nod of approval. “Lookin’ keen, by the way–almost didn’t recognize ya’ when I got outta the rig!” The skeleton glances at your pals milling around and shoots you a conspiratorial glance. “Hey, uh, if any of these guys ya’ got hangin’ around bother ya, you let your big bros know, alright?”

He grins at you, but the word ‘bro’ sends a haunting shiver down your spine. Right when you weren’t thinking about it…

“Errr, an’ by that I mean Wyatt, Cliff, an’ yours truly!” Stripes clarifies while jerking a thumb towards his smug face! “Mostly me though, dig?”

Y-yea, you stammer, recovering from your thoughts, you dig! With one last friendly shake of your shoulder, the greaser hops into the passenger’s seat as Paulie whistles for the others!

“Seeya at the party, kid!” Stripes shouts, winking at you from the passenger window! “Dress ta’ impress!”

As promptly as it arrived, Paulie’s big rig rips free of the parking lot with a triumphant roar of its horn! Watching them depart, a wide grin settles on your face and lingers there long after the truck rides off into the sunrise.

“Hard to believe they were traveling with us only a few days ago…”

Feeling a light hand rest on your shoulder, you turn to find Sybil with a much healthier, but still pale, Sybil fixing her hair at your side. “A shame they left so quickly.”

Holy crap, you mutter in disbelief–is that HER? A few seconds ago you were prepared to give her a desert burial! Softly giggling at your words, The Goth produces an empty, but familiar can of HANGOVER HELPER from her side! “Not this time! That beverage restored me almost immediately–in fact, I’d wager I’m about one-hundred perceBBLLLLLUUUUUAUAAAAAAUUUUGGHHH!

Violently spewing what little remains in her guts onto the pavement in front of you, your pal recovers a moment after and daintily wipes her face clean with a black and red handkerchief from her pocket.

“Pardon me… let’s wager ninety percent, shall we?”

Yea, you nod as you check your pants and boots for any splashage, let’s go with that…

>CONTD.
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>>5128697
The good news is that if Syb did hork on you, it’s barely visible through the layers of dust, blood, and other debris caked onto your boots and pants! Small victories, huh?

“Speaking of,” Sybil continues with a sheepish look on her still somewhat-sickly face, “I apologize for being unable to assist you all in the fight–not that you didn’t do well without me, of course.”

Is this slut seriously apologizing to you? Bringing her in for a hug, you quietly instruct your bestie to shut the hell up–it all worked out in the end, right? Plus if she got involved she probably would have puked mid-spell and summoned, like, PUKE GOLEMS or something. From PUKE DIMENSION.

“Yes, well,” She mutters, smiling at your reasoning, “I’ll try to behave myself more in the future–I was acting completely irresponsible last night and-”

“And it was amazing!” Another hand rests on both Sybil’s and your remaining shoulders. “If anything you oughta’ get plastered more often, Syb.”

Looking behind you, you find your other pal Mitzi standing behind you! “Take a picture, Stan–it’ll last longer.” She whispers with a wink. Where the hell was she during that scrap?

“We were cleaning the dishes, duh.” Explains the tomboy with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, you guys had it handled!” Leaning in closer, the Rent-A-Cop whispers into your ear: “Can always rely on Talbot, can’t ya’, Stan? Jealous!

You respond with a flick to her forehead! Go get a SMUG Check, why don’t ya? You did most of the fighting–Gramps and Talbot helped, but-

HEY, FREAK!” Speak of the devil. Turning again to face yet another voice, you spot Marshal Parble standing next to Mayor Malton and Louie the Barber! Locking eyes with you, the lawman impatiently motions for you to come over. Man, everyone wants a piece of you today, huh?

“Can you blame ‘em?” Mitzi shrugs before peeking over your shoulder at the bag you’re carrying. “Whatja’ get, by the way? Thought you’d buy a bunch of stuff…”

“As did I–who knows when we’ll cross paths with Paulie again? Are we adequately prepared?” As Sybil also moves to peek into your bag, you shake both girls off like a dog trying to dry itself off before scuttling towards the townsfolk. You got STUFF, you snarl in mid-scamper! Don’t even trip!

“Atta’ girl, cupcake.” Ly remarks as you stow the bag into your pockets. “They won’t suspect a thing!”

Don’t you start, you hiss as Mayor Malton and Louie greet you with smiles!

“Yea, da’ less said about dat’ purchase da’ better.” Your skeleton replies with a shiver! “Gives me goosebumps...”

Keep it up and he’s getting bruises!

>CONTD.
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>>5128699
“Stanley!” exclaims the mayor as he runs a finger along his greased mustache, “I take it y’all enjoyed yourselves last night?”

Yea, you nod, the taste of booze still somehow lingering on the tip of your tongue, it was pretty neat!

“What she means to say, Ike,” Gramps interjects, “Is that she and her friends had SO good of a time she can hardly express it in words.” Right?”

Yea, you reply as you give Pops a grateful nod, couldn’t have said it better!

“Well that’s just swell!” The Mayortender remarks with a hearty laugh! “And er, don’t you worry none about the damages–as far as they go, that hootenanny was one of the tamer ones if ya’ can believe it!”

“Think I saw some dried blood on the ceilin’ last night…” Gramps muses with a nostalgic grin on his bony face. “One hell of a Fourth O’ July…”

Sharing a laugh, both The Marshal and Mayor shake it off quickly before turning their attention back your way. As they should!

“Anywho, Stanley, The Marshal here tells me you an’ yer’ erm, associates, conducted yourselves rather well when you went after Clayton–so much so, in fact, that we’ve agreed that COMMENDATIONS are in order!”

An eager smile creeps across your face! Hell yea, you shout! Let’s get SHINDIG #2 started right now!

“Didn’t we have stuff ta’ do today?” Asks your skeleton in a mildly-annoyed tone. Well yea, you shrug, but there’s always tomorrow, right?

“Number two! HAH! Not a bad idea in the least, little lady!” Doubling over with laughter, tears start running down Ike’s face as you try to get his attention. Hey, you growl, it wasn’t a joke! You want more free drinks, old man!

The Mayor recovers shortly after Pops slaps you upside the head. OW! Wheezing despite not having any lungs, Ike dabs his face with a damp bar rag before stuffing it back into his breast pocket.

“Keep that up and you’ll be the death of me, Stan! Hoo, boy…” As he regains some of his politician’s demeanor, The mayor removes a RUSTY OLD KEY from his coat pocket. Frowning in confusion, you politely ask the skeleton just what the hell you’re looking at.

OW! Quit hitting me, Gramps!

“Watch yer’ tone, damn you! An’ quit callin’ me ‘Gramps’!”

>CONTD.
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>>5128701
Retreating to a safe distance from the senile old codger–STAY BACK!

… A safe distance from The Marshal, you repeat your question to the Mayor–what’s this KEY, anyways?

“This,” Replies the Mayortender with a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye socket, “Is a KEY TO JOPLIN–the SALOON, to be clear.” Holding it out for you to take, you retrieve the key from him with trembling lips–is… is he SERIOUS?

“Well it ain’t a big, FANCY key like ya’ see in those civilized towns,” Ike explains with a laugh, “but JOPLIN’S always had its share of uniqueitudes… All the same, it’d be an’ honor and a pleasure if you took it with our blessings!”

Marveling at the tiny piece of shaped metal, you gently place your due reward in your pocket with a reassuring pat–you’ll take good care of it, that’s for sure!

“Please do,” Ike chuckles, “It’s the only one I got! HA, just foolin’!” Nudging you between the ribs with his elbow, The Mayor’s own joke sends him reeling into hysterics again. Should you, like, come back later or something?

“Don’t be an ass, kid,” Pops grumbles as he sends a mean look towards your van, “you an’ I both know you aren’t gonna travel out here again on a damned social call.” Before you can argue, your temporary ally retrieves a piece of metal of his own from his duster pocket–a STAR-SHAPED BADGE ENGRAVED WITH THE WORD ‘DEPUTY MARSHAL’!

Quietly holding it out for you to grab, The Marshal grows more and more flustered as you give him a smug grin instead! A present? From GAM-GAM?! “Damn it, girl, you take this badge and you wear it with respect!” Slapping it into your hand, the old fogey harrumphs as you examine the goods! “And don’t even think about losing it, ya’ hear? Or I’ll make you wish yer’ dumb hide perished in that damn mine!”

Stowing the badge next to your key, you shrug–it’s definitely a start, but he’s got a LOT of catching up to do in the ‘Gift’ department!

“You take what you get, you circus freak!” He snaps as a faint smile breaks through his gruff exterior. “... an’ if you ever need some more WORDS OF WISDOM, well… you know who to call.”

Standing there awkwardly, you make things even worse by wrapping the gunslinger into a bear hug! Grumbling in protest, the skeleton doesn’t shake you off–leaning in, you give your great-whatever a quiet ‘thank you’ before releasing him from your clutches.

“Just do me a favor, wouldja?” He asks, quickly regaining his composure. “If someone ever has the misfortune of startin’ a family with ya, try to pass on more of the Parble stuff… you can keep the Raccoon crap!”

Bile leaps into your throat at the sound of the word ‘childrenBUH-ARF!

>CONTD.
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>>5128705
After the wave of nausea leaves you, it suddenly dawns on you that Louie the Barber’s been standing in the circle the whole time! Holding your hand out expectantly, you snap your fingers a few times to get the ball rolling–gifts, you grunt, let’s go!

“Well I hate to admit it, my dear, but when it comes to awards and such I’m a downright pauper, I’m afraid…” Giving you an apologetic look, an embarrassed smile slowly creeps onto the barber’s face. “But I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t see you off–it’d just be plain rude considering what you’ve done for me an’ the town!”

Yea, you shrug, it would. What’s his plan now, anyways?

“Well,” Louie begins, “All those fine-haired fellows struck some inspiration back into these old bones… and I presume that a camp full of ‘em could make use of someone like me… more than these folk can, at least.” Gesturing to the town of JOPLIN at the base of the hill, Louie bows his head at you. “I’ll be sojourning at that DRIVE-IN they mentioned for a spell once I get my belongings in order–it ain’t much, I know, but if you ever need another trim, well, it’d be an honor to oblige!”

“Yes indeed!” Ike adds, finally recovering from his second laughing fit, “Perhaps it’d do us some good to reach out to our neighbors. We’ve certainly got some options with those BLACK EYES running for the hills…”

Hearing the van being loaded behind you, you glance backwards and notice Gus and Marcie loading up the bike while Pete and the rest of your pals prepare for departure! Turning your attention back to the skeletons, The Mayor politely waves you away. “But don’t concern yourself with that, Stanley–sounds like you’ve got some work to do, as do we!”

“Keep those guns close, missy.” Pops adds as he gingerly pats you on the shoulder. “And those folk of yours even closer.”

Turning to leave, you give the townsfolk one last wave–you’ll see them again soon!

“Not TOO soon, I hope!” The Marshal quips, earning another bout of laughter from Ike! Shaking your head, you head for the garage to make final preparations!

>CONTD.
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>>5128707
“Just in time!” Art remarks as you approach the van, “We juuust finished doing all the heavy lifting.”

“No sweat, Stan!” Talbot grunts, flexing his tracksuited bicep in your direction. “I needed a morning warm-up anyways!”

Blowing them off, you turn your attention to Gus and his sister as the former performs one last inspection on his bike. Wasn’t he supposed to leave a while ago?

“Yea.” Drones the delivery man, not even looking up from his wheels. “There were dishes, though.”

Yea, you heard. Tightening one last bolt, a faint smile forms on Gus’ face as he finally turns his attention your way. “We’ll drive with you until we reach town–I’ll drop Marcie off at the PIZZA PLACE, but don’t worry-”

He’ll find you, you interrupt, finishing his sentence for him. Giving you a nod, your neighbor resumes his maintenance while Marcie gets comfortable in the sidecar. “Thanks for tracking me down, Stan. It was good to see you again.”

Yea, you reply, it was pretty wild, huh? Turning to leave, a thought worms its way into your brain–you’ve got her, sure, but what happened to those other refugees?

“Thought you might ask about that!” From the other end of the garage comes Pete carrying two jerry cans of what you assume is fuel–the old man still wearing the same greasy hat and dark shades you rescued him in. “Y’all missed it, but those other folks came into town early in the morning and picked ‘em all up! Said something about takin’ everyone to a BUNKER in the city…”

“Hey, that’s where we’re going!” Eddie announces as he and Kiki finish loading some sleeping bags into the back of the van! “You should come too, Pete–it’s pretty cool!”

“It would be safer…” Tucker adds as he hands a frosty bottle of water to Art. “And the people there could probably use your mechanical skills!”

“Yea, well…” Pete shrugs, taking a seat in his creaky chair, “Maybe I’ll wander on over… eventually. I’m a creature of habit, ya’ know?” Gesturing to the garage around you, a smile forms on the old man’s lips. “‘Sides, someone’s gotta stick around in case more tourists show up!”

“In any case, thank you very much for all the assistance.” Sybil grins. “We’d probably still be stuck here if it wasn’t for your generosity!”

“Hey, mi garage-o es su garage-o!” The shuttle driver laughs! “Least I can do for the kids who saved my life!” Hearing the van’s engine roar to life behind you, you and your pals give Gus, Marcie, and Pete one last wave goodbye!

“Watch yourselves out there!” He warns, returning your wave as you all file into the back of the vehicle.

Collapsing into a back seat, you relish the van’s industrial-strength air conditioning as Talbot and Eddie close the doors behind you!

And just like that you’re on the road again…

>CONTD.
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>>5128709
“Man,” Ly remarks as Mitzi resumes reading her WATER POLO MONTHLY MAGAZINE and Eddie tends to the RIP KORD CUTOUT, “If we gotta’ say goodbye to anyone else I’m gonna pass OUT!

Not a bad idea, you muse as you watch Tucker and Kiki jot down production notes. Right–the film...

“I dunno about you guys,” Talbot remarks, raising his feet on the seat next to you, “but if I was a skeleton right now I’d be peekin’ over my shoulder!”

“One more to go, Stan!” Eddie gushes as he collapses into the seat next to you! “Not long now, huh?”

“Easy there, Ed-” Tucker chuckles, “We’ll still have to take down the ringleader too!” A quizzical look forms on the film student’s face. “Too bad we couldn’t have just gone straight for him–you think Liches work on Vampire rules or whatever?”

“What, you mean like ‘you kill the master, you kill his minions’?” Eddie asks. “That’s uh… You know what? That’s a good point!” Peeking through the hole at the passenger’s seat, Eddie politely pokes Syb’s shoulder. “Yo, Syb–is that how they work?”

“Theoretically, yes,” The Goth replies, her face scrunched up in thought. “But it’s hard to say–despite being ‘Thralls’ of the Lich, the skeletons we’ve met have displayed an unusual amount of independence.” Sighing in frustration, your bestie turns to give the backseat crew an apologetic shrug. “I hate to say it, but we might be writing a brand-new book here…”

“In that case, let’s keep it simple, yea?” Mitzi suggests, eyes glued to her reading material. “We take down the LIEUTENANT, then we take the fight to the big cheese.”

While you and the others nod in assent, Kiki leans in close to Tucker’s ear and whispers a few hushed words. “Keek says we should keep it simpler–Stan’s gotta meet with her boss first, right?”

Ugh, you groan, you can’t wait...

“Say hi to ‘em for me, okay?” Mitzi says with a cheeky grin, “There’s a pool in that PRIVATE BUNKER with my name on it!”

“Hey, yea--I get to come in this time! FINALLY!” Talbot exclaims as he pumps his fist in the air! Seeing you stare, however, the janitor quickly shifts gears. “I uh… I mean I’ll finally get to see that place you jerks keep talking about! About time!”

Glaring at your ex-bodyguard, you sink into your seat as you contemplate how to spend the ride–something tells you it’s gonna be a LONG one…
>CHAT WITH A PAL (WHO?)
>INSPECT/MESS WITH AN ITEM (WHICH ONE?)
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
>ASK ART IF YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A BIT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Sorry for the short update--it's just about bedtime for me so I'll be calling it here for tonight! Should have more for ya THURSDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Won't be on my main computer, though, so don't expect much. Thanks again for playing and see you next time!
>>
>>5128712
>>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!

But give the psst-psst to Talbot that we still wanna hear his murder-skelly stories later if we haven't already reminded him yet.
>>
>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
>>
>>5128712
>CHAT WITH A PAL Talbot, he owes us a story
>>
>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
we can wait on talking with talbot for now
>>
>>5128712
>JUST SLEEP! YOU COULD USE SOME REST!
>>
>>5128717
>>5128810
>>5129310
>>5129461
>CATCH THEM Z'S!

>>5128825
>TALK TO TALBOT!

Writing!
>>
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Mentally sifting through your options, your decision-making process is cut short when your body abruptly remembers that it spent most of, if not the whole, night clinging to Talbot’s similarly-paralyzed form… and not in the sexy way either! Too tired and unwilling to look back on the events of last night any further, you instead squirm into the most comfortable position your seat provides before letting your already-heavy eyelids close…

… and IMMEDIATELY OPEN THEM UP AGAIN! You almost forgot! Glaring across the van at Talbot, it doesn’t take long for him to notice you.

“Yea?” He grunts, leaving his legs propped onto the seat next to you. “What?”

Your face scrunches into a frown as you continue to stare. Getting a read on your ex-bodyguard is anything but easy, especially given his unique brand of, well, JERKINESS.

Your fellow janitor matches your frown with one of his own. “Whaaaat?” Hard to believe he was that twelve-foot-tall murder machine only a few days ago–even harder to believe he went from a gentle giant to, well, THIS.

“What the hell are you staring at, Stan?” He growls, earning a disapproving glare from Kiki and Tucker. “What?! She’s just STARING at me!”

You haven’t forgotten the story he owes you, you remind yourself–the story of what he remembers of his past life. Part of you wouldn’t mind hearing it right now–no doubt the others are curious too if he hasn’t spilled the beans to them already!

“Stan?” Eddie asks from the seat next to you, “You uh… you alive in there?”

“She WON’T be if she doesn’t quit STARING!” Talbot huffs, crossing his arms in growing frustration! But there’s plenty of time for that later, you conclude–whether it’s after your meeting with THE BOSS or that MYSTERIOUS CONTACT OF YOURS, you’re certain you’ll get it outta’ him eventually. Feeling sleep claw at your body, you lean back in your seat and give your ex-bodyguard an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture before drifting off to the sound of magazine pages turning, snacks being eaten, conversations being had, an-

“Don’t you DARE fall asleep!” Snarls the guy across from you, “Hey! I’M TALKING TO Y-!”

The sandman takes you down for the count before the red-haired hellion can finish. Feeling the weight of your burdens and stresses fade away, you find yourself in a well-deserved state of calm relaxation…

Goodbye reality…
Hello DREAM WORLD…

Where do you find yourself today? WRITE-IN details or leave blank for a random choice!
>A MEMORY!
>A GOOD DREAM!
>A NIGHTMARE!
>SOMEWHERE OR SOMETHING ELSE (WRITE-IN)!
>NOWHERE! JUST SLEEP NORMALLY, DAMN IT!
>>
That's it for tonight, all--sorry for the short update, but I'm not on my main rig and I've still got some stuff to do. Should have more for ya FRIDAY around the usual 6-7PM PST! Thanks for being patient and Happy Almost Weekend!
>>
>>5130076
>>NOWHERE! JUST SLEEP NORMALLY, DAMN IT!
>>
>>5130076
>>A MEMORY!
>>
>>5130076
>A GOOD DREAM!
Gamugo flies in in his UFO and abducts Boris for eternal anal probing.
>>
>>5130076
>>5130225 +1
>>
>>5130076
>A NIGHTMARE!
I'm curious to see what other kinds of horrors our subconscious can generate from its own devices.
>>
>>5130079
>JUST SLEEP, DAMN YOU!

>>5130090
>A MEMORY!

>>5130225
>>5130257
>A PRETTY GOOD DREAM, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED!

>>5130884
>NIGHTMARE! EEEEEK!

Writing!
>>
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Pleasantly drifting through a restful cat nap, it isn’t long before you feel the warm tickle of the afternoon sun’s rays on your face! Awakening with a drawn-out, but satisfied yawn, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk downtown. Yes, you mutter to yourself, you had an appointment–how could it have slipped your mind so easily?

Doubling your pace, you politely skirt around what little pedestrians share the sidewalk–an old man walking his older dog, a giggling young couple, a flock of chatty businessmen. Reaching the end of the street corner, you pause on the curb as a traffic guard waves the midday traffic through the intersection. As his eyes meet yours, the bright-colored man gives you a subtle nod before raising his gloved hands in the air like a conductor! Like magic, the cars slow to a halt, and with a genial wink the guard motions for you to cross!

Giving him a friendly wave, you’re just about to step off of the curb when a shadow engulfs the whole block… and an all-too-familiar song reverberates across the city!
https://youtu.be/mHjH3DyKChU
As you turn to face the source, you barely manage to duck under a spinning sixteen-wheeler emblazoned with the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONES mascot hurtling down the street!

Though you manage to avoid being pulped, the traffic guard, a few more pedestrians, and the majority of the commuters aren’t so lucky! Within seconds the once-peaceful intersection descends into bedlam–as the survivors writhe on the pavement covered in their own viscera and vehicles burst into flames, the origin of the hellish music stomps into view–with shoes that could crush a cathedral!

YES, STAN…” Booms an echoing voice from far above, “IT IS I: BORIS! YOUR IMMORTAL FOE!” Following the massive pair of legs upwards, you find yourself staring at a BORIS the size of a skyscraper! Compensating, much?!

BWA HA HA! HOW’S THE WEATHER DOWN THERE?!” He laughs, smashing the buildings around him like a bully wrecking sandcastles! “I’D SAY YOU LOOK LIKE AN ANT FROM UP HERE, BUT THAT’D BE HURTFUL… TO THE ANTS, THAT IS!”

BORIS, YOU KING-SIZED CRETIN, you exclaim as you shake your fist his way, this is just another one of his screwy schemes, isn’t it?! Snapping an antenna off of a nearby roof, your colossal co-worker cleans between his sparkling teeth before letting it fall to the streets below! “OF COURSE,” He boasts, spreading his arms wide to bask in his wickedness! “YET ANOTHER FINE ADDITION TO MY MALEVOLENT MACHINATIONS!

Stomping towards you with a cheshire grin on his face, Boris slams a fist through a building with each monstrous step! “THE SKELETONS! YOUR BLACKOUTS! SUE HATING YOU! SYBIL GETTING WITH ART! ALL MERE STEPPING STONES IN MY GRAND SCHEME!

You KNEW it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5131608
You try to keep your distance, but it’s no use–for each football field-sized stride he takes, you can only take one sloth-like step… like your legs were made of JELLY or something! Watching your foe draw closer, sweat drops the size of water balloons form all over your body!

Feeling an overturned car press against your back, you scan your surroundings for the quickest escape route–just in time to be snatched up by a pair of gargantuan gloved fingers! Squirming to break free, your feral flailing fails to hit anything! Let me go, you big oaf!

HMMM, LET ME THINK ABOUT IT! OH, I KNOW: HOW ABOUT ‘NO’! BWAAAAA HA HA HA HA!” Jerking his head back with maddened glee, Boris breaks into a fit of laughter that puts Mayor Malton’s to shame! “SORRY, BUMBLEBEE, BUT AS THEY SAY IN FOOTBALL–ONE STRIKE AND YOU’RE OUT! IT’S BEEN A REAL ‘HOLE IN ONE’!

Opening his mouth wide, Boris is just about to drop you in like a grape when you spot a sight for sore eyes on the streets below–one with purple streaks in her hair and a displeased look on her pale face!

“Well, well, well…caught in a pickle again, Stan?”

SYB! Rubbing your hands together with glee, you send a devious grin in Boris’ direction–he’s screwed now!

“Don’t forget us!”

From behind the charred cityscape come your friends: ART, MITZI, TUCKER, EDDIE, KIKI, GUS, DENISE, hell, even TALBOT! Standing in three rows of three, your friends snap into a perfectly-choreographed pose in front of the belligerent blowhard! Rather than cower, however, you feel Boris’ colossal body shake with… laughter?!

BWA HA HA HA! A TEAM’S NOT A TEAM WITHOUT A GOALIE, BUMBLEBEE!” You don’t know what the hell he means, but it doesn’t matter–now that your pals are here he’s TOAST! Rather than charge into battle, however, your loyal minions just STAND there! Hey, you exclaim with a few rousing snaps of your fingers, chop chop with the rescuing! You’ve got GAMES to play!

“I mean… do we have to?” Mitzi asks with a bored look on her face.

“Yea–I’d rather go make out with ARTIE-POO, to be honest…” Sybil whines before tackling her boytoy to the pavement!

“Think about it, Stan–is Boris REALLY that bad?” Tucker asks, rubbing his bearded chin in contemplation.

“Tuck’s right! Remember when he helped us out before? Dude risked his life for us!” Eddie adds in his usual cheerful tone, earning a confident nod from Kiki!

“You’ve kinda been a jerk too, Stan.” Gus states as he performs donuts on his bike. “Maybe you should just be nicer.”

“Yea!” Talbot exclaims! “You ever considered that maybe YOU’RE the dick?!”

M-m-maybe if we g-got to know him better…” Denise suggests as her sweat creates a pond at her trembling feet. TYPICAL DENISE!

>CONTD.
>>
>>5131609
At a loss for words for once in your life, you watch as your friends march towards Boris’ foot and MERGE with it! Stupefied, you feel all hope drain from you as Boris grows taller with each friend he absorbs! When his head sits comfortably above the clouds, your co-worker gives you that horrible, gut-wrenching, smug grin of his!

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY STAY THE SAME, HUH STAN? HOW DOES IT FEEL KNOWING THAT EVERYTHING, EVEN FRIENDSHIP, IS TEMPORARY?

Before you can respond, Boris leans his massive head in closer! “SERIOUSLY, TELL ME–I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW THAT FEELS! BECAUSE OF ALL THE FRIENDS I HAVE! BWA HA HA HA! HOME RUN!

Feeling your lower lip begin to tremble, you feel a profound emptiness spread through you as you stare out towards the horizon where the void of space is just barely kept out by the few layers of Earth’s atmosphere. H-how does it feel?

You take a deep, clarifying breath as you wrestle with the giant’s words. It feels-

BLZOOOOOOOOWWW!
Tingly?

You and Boris both freeze as a wave of green light washes over you and swiftly shrinks the latter to his normal, but still somewhat tall, size! Collapsing onto the pavement, you watch in horror as your fellow janitor spits each of your friends out of his mouth like a pitching machine! As your friends land on the pavement one by one, you feel the distinct tingle of static electricity around you as a circular metallic object descends with a teeth-rattling drone!

Peering through the green light with squinted eyes, you can just barely make out a humanoid shape descending from above–one clad in some sort of officer’s garb?

MINNASAN–KONNICHIWA! HISASHIBURI DA NE?

Your heart skips a beat. Then another! Touching down on the pavement with a graceful ‘click’, the owner of the immaculately-shined riding boots in front of you turns your way and extends a hand clad in elbow-length gloves whiter than snow! “STAN-CHAN… YOU’RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY WE FIRST MET…

“Wh-what the hell is THAT?!” Boris squeaks as he begins clawing at the ground for a way out!

It’s HIM, you whisper… UCHUUJIN GAMUGO! You KNEW he was real! Gently rapping his knuckles on your head, PROFESSOR Gamugo laughs at you in a soothing voice.

OF COURSE I AM… BAKA!

…You just LOVE it when he says that word…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5131611
You’re about to melt on the pavement when you spot a flash of movement behind the alien–it’s BORIS! Offering you a hand, the alien is too preoccupied to notice your immortal foe about to deliver a haymaker to the back of his perfectly-sculpted locks! Before you can warn him, however, Professor Gamugo waves his hand in the air, causing his spacecraft’s beam to recenter itself on his would-be attacker!

“Wh-wh-wha?!” Boris mutters, trying and failing to move! “L-let me go! H-h-HOLDING! FIVE-YARD PENALTY!

Continuing to stare deeply into your now saucer-sized eyes, your rescuer flicks his hand upwards, sending your co-worker drifting towards the ship! Flailing in vain, Boris shrieks like a schoolgirl as each and every one of his hairs slowly disintegrate in the beam! As your foe disappears screaming into the spaceship’s tractor beam, the ship’s owner helps you to your feet before kneeling in front of you!

STAN-CHAN,” He begins, his white officer’s garb fluttering majestically in a cherry blossom-choked breeze, “I’VE SEARCHED FAR AND WIDE FOR THE ULTIMATE VIDEO GAME… BUT WHAT I’VE REALLY BEEN LOOKING FOR… IS YOU!

You just barely manage to suck back up the drool building up in your mouth. Oh my god, you hiss to no one in particular, Oh my GOOOOOD!

Smiling at you with an otherworldly twinkle in his eye, Gamugo grips your hand tighter in his as your friends gather around you to watch! “STAN-CHAN… WOULD YOU… WILL YOU SCOUR THE GALAXY… AT MY SIDE? FOR GAMES?

YES, you gush, barely holding back your tears! A MILLION times yes!

AND,” He continues, “CAN I… CAN I MAKE OUT WITH YOU? WITH TONGUE?

Collapsing into his outstretched arms with a crazed ‘HELL YES’, you immediately get to work while your friends stand in a circle around you and start clapping! Man, you think as you start playing tonsil-hockey with your INTERGALACTIC BOYFRIEND, things just don’t get much better than this!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5131613
“You’re the BEST, Stan!” Tucker shouts, prompting the others to crowd around you!

“I wish I was as COOL and GORGEOUS as you!” Mitzi adds with a smile on her face!

“Hey everyone–let’s pledge to NEVER DITCH STAN!” Eddie exclaims!

“You’ve inspired me, Stan–I’m dumping Art! You’re all I need!” Sybil cheers, shoving Art away!

“She’s right… I was wrong, Stan–about a lot of things!” Art smiles! “Sorry I said you kidnapped me–would you like all of my GOLD COINS as an apology?”

Pausing your SMOKIN’-HOT MAKEOUT SESH for a moment, you hold out your hand for Art’s coins. Yea, you nod, it’s a START!

“We’re with you ‘til the end, Stan.” Gus drones as he, Kiki, and Denise smile your way. “And feel free to ask us for food whenever, too.”

“Truth is, Stan–I was just intimidated by you!” Talbot confesses as redness builds up in his cheeks! “I-If I’m nice to you will you pay attention to me?”

No, you laugh, stuffing your pockets with GOLD COINS in between snogging seshes! But he can totally keep simping for you!

“O-okay! I’ll do my best!” Talbot stammers with a sheepish grin on his face! Leaning closer into Gamugo, you bask in pure, unadulterated bliss as the scene around you explodes with applause, GOLD COINS, fireworks, and American flags waving proudly in the air! U S A! U S A! U S A...

U S -OOF!

Something heavy nudges you in the stomach just when Gamugo was getting handsy! Lurching upright in a drool-soaked van seat, your mind is abruptly ejected from DREAM WORLD and back into the cold, unfeeling clutches of REALITY! Damn it!

“Did you have to kick her stomach, T? She looked like she was having a really good dream!” Eddie asks in a disapproving tone.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Talbot retorts, gesturing out the back window to the stationary parking garage around you! “Plus the SNORING was getting annoying.”

“Pretty sure she was mumbling ‘U S A’...” Tucker mutters, turning to Mitzi for confirmation.

“Yep. Didn’t know you HATED FREEDOM, T.” The tomboy adds, stuffing her magazine back into her pocket with a wry grin.

“Wait, really?” Talbot asks with wide eyes! “I mean… if she was chanting ‘U S A’ then I guess it’s cool…”

“Whatever, COMMIE.” Mitzi mutters as she leans towards you. “So Stan–ya’ gonna tell us what your dream was about, or what?”

Well…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5131618
Before you can respond, you hear the back doors click open next to you. “Enticing as that sounds, we should really head in.” Sybil interrupts, standing outside with an impatient look on her face. “Anywhere you wanted to head first, Stan?”

“You have a meeting with the BOSS, right?” Mitzi asks with a glimmer in her eye! “You uh… you can do that first–we’ll just wait in that PRIVATE BUNKER of yours until it’s over!”

“Private… Bunker?” Talbot asks, interest clearly piqued.

“Yea, man–it’s got a game room, a fully-stocked kitchen, a pool-”

“Ed,” Talbot interrupts, placing a hand on the film student’s shoulder, “You had me at ‘Game Room.”

Wait, you’re here already? In that case you’d like to check out…
>THE COMMONS! THEY HAVE SHOPS AND ALL SORTS OF KOOKY CHARACTERS THERE!
>THE CANTEEN! YOU WANT SOME FOOD AND A DRINK, DAMN IT!
>THE MEDICAL WING! YOU’RE DUE A CHECKUP WITH DR. DEVON!
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>YOUR PRIVATE BUNKER! YOU MISS THAT ROOM, MAN!
>SECURITY! MIGHT WANNA SEE WHAT THE FUSS ABOUT DENISE IS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5131620
>>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>>
>>5131620
>>THE MEDICAL WING! YOU’RE DUE A CHECKUP WITH DR. DEVON!
>>
>>5131620
Holy shit, I screwed up that second-to-last post, like, eight times, so I think we're done writing updates for tonight! Should have more SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST, though! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!

This has ought to be interesting.
>>
>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>>
>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>>
>>5131620
>ADMINISTRATION! BEST NOT KEEP THE BOSS WAITING!
>>
>>5131621
>>5131634
>>5131635
>>5131687
>>5131752
>BRUNCH WITH BOSS!

>>5131622
>CHECK UP AND CHECK UP!

Writing! Sorry, day kinda ran away from me!
>>
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>>5132748
Given what little you know of your mysterious employer, you inform your merry band of misfits that you’ll be heading to that meeting first–who knows what’ll happen if you keep them waiting!

“Yea, firing you just wouldn’t have the same ‘oomph’ given all that’s happened, would it?” Tucker remarks with a bemused look on his face.

“Considering they detain people indefinitely on a whim, I’m sure they can think of much worse things than letting you go…” Art shrugs. “Good call, Stan.”

“Hell yea!” Mitzi nods, grinning ear to ear! “That PRIVATE BUNKER is on the way, too–you spoil us!”

Yea, you shrug, you ARE pretty cool, aren’t you? Heading in through the SECURITY STATION’S garage entrance, you just barely avoid smacking a security goon in the face with the door! Balancing a tower of steaming beverages atop a stack of files, the guard yelps as his stack slowly teeters to one side!

“AAACK! Watch where you’re going, damn it!”

Barely managing to steady his quarry, the goon lets out a drawn-out and very annoyed sigh as he looks you and your crew over. “Well, well, well… guess this means I’m still covering the front desk, Muldoon?”

“Yep!” Mitzi replies in a chipper tone as she motions everyone in! “You’re a doll, Derek!”

“I’ll remember this, you know…” Derek mutters under his breath as your crew awkwardly skirts around his stack of crap. “Once I’m in management–ooh, you’ll ALL be sorry…”

“Wait a minute–you’re a SECRETARY?” Talbot asks in an incredulous tone as you continue down the hall towards the elevators.

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta’ have talents.” Mitzi shrugs as she presses the CALL ELEVATOR buttons. “Did you know that Stan’s an EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR? When she’s not busting heads and breaking hearts, that is!”

“Yea, uh… I knew that already.” Grunts your fellow janitor.

“What was dat’ about ‘breakin’ hearts?’” Ly asks before the elevator doors open with a pleasant ding! Well, you shrug, you ARE a bit of a heartbreaker!

“Uh-huh. An’ I’m a walrus...”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5132967
Squeezing into one of the elevators with Art, Syb, Talbot, and Eddie, the latter is the first to break the ice as you feel your ride descend into the Earth. “So… you have any idea what your meeting with the boss will be like?”

“I’ll admit I’m a bit curious as well…” Sybil adds, face scrunched up in thought. “One would think they’d have quite a bit riding on this situation given all of the manpower and the preparations they’ve made…”

If it’s anything like last time, you reply with a shrug, you’ll probably talk about lobsters and cults or something–Bali…

“I think I’ve seen ‘em once or twice at a few events.” Talbot mutters to himself. “Kinda kooky. Think they had an eyepatch or something, too.”

Oh yea? Did they have a peg leg and glowing yellow eyes too? Come o-

Before you can finish your teasing, a wave of nausea splashes over you, Talbot, and Syb that sends all three of you crashing to the elevator’s floor!

“Damn it–that part ALWAYS sneaks up on me!” Art growls as he promptly helps Syb back up. Assisted by Eddie, you feel a little bad when Talbot has to get up by himself. But, you know, not SUPER bad.

“Wha…” He slurs, bracing himself against the wall, “Whadda hell’s thish?”

“A MAGICAL… BARRIER…” Sybil explains through clenched teeth. “Curt’s ORDER erected it… to defend against… intruders…”

While Eddie holds you steady by your shoulders, Talbot stares off into space for a few moments before sputtering back to reality! “... Damn… Those… Those guys actually did something?”

Yea, you groan, you can barely believe it either! It’s alright though, you continue as you feel your equilibrium come back to you, you get over it after a few minutes! Watching Talbot take a bit longer to recover than you or Sybil, you add a smug grin to the end of your statement. If, that is, you’re not a WUSS, that is!

“Wuss?” Groans your ex-bodyguard as he shakes off the barrier’s effects, “This… this is nothing--I’ve had worse!”

Feeling the elevator’s descent slow down, you take a position in front of the doors and respond with a menacing giggle–don’t think that you’re safe just because you’re in a bunker, you warn! Danger appears when you least expect-

Before you can finish, a meaty gloved hand rips through the opening doors and clasps around your neck!

PARBLE!” Roars a voice you were happy to avoid hearing for a few updates now, “YER’ LATE!

Hi again… BLUMENKRANTZ, you choke…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5132973
https://youtu.be/tY_kfFnyoic
DON’T GET CHUMMY WITH ME, YOU GOBLIN!” Snaps the mountain of a man as he tears you out of the lift where your friends and a squad of armed security officers wait, the latter with their weapons drawn! “YOU MIGHT THINK YER’ ‘HOT PISS’ BECAUSE YOU’VE SMASHED SOME BONES, BUT NO ONE–NOT YOU, NOT ME, NOT EVEN GOD HIMSELF KEEPS THE CEO WAITING!

Trampling the guards foolish enough to not get out of his path, the Chief of Security drags you along the ground like a toddler holding a stuffed animal towards the CENTRAL ELEVATOR! “Officers: let her fruity little CHEER SQUAD go… but feel free to fill ‘em full of holes if they so much as SNEEZE the wrong way!”

Blanching at his words, Kiki slaps her hands over her nose before a sneeze can come out! Close one!

“Errr… We’ll uh… we’ll catch you later, Stan!” Tucker shouts as you and Blumenkrantz leave the ENTRY ZONE. Thanks, guys, you hiss through a still-squished throat, really saved the day…

“Things will be a little different than last time, rodent!” Blumenkrantz hisses through clenched teeth as he stomps into the bunker’s MAIN SHAFT where several freight elevators wait to be boarded, “But you’re still expected to be on your BEST behavior, whatever the hell THAT is!”

Seeing the cantankerous old man approaching the elevator, a handful of maintenance workers and security guards dart to safety! Mashing a massive finger into the button marked ‘ADMIN,’, Blumenkrantz waits until the lift lurches to life before letting you drop to the ground like a sack of oranges. Massaging your aching throat, you can’t help but look at him in confusion–he’s being a LOT more gentle than usual today!

CAN IT!” He snarls as he takes a long puff from his cigar! “... So… how was JOPLIN?

Rather than answer right away, you pinch yourself on the arm a few times just to be sure you aren’t dreaming. Is he actually asking you a CASUAL QUESTION?

ANSWER, DAMN IT, OR I’LL CHUCK YOU INTO THAT SHAFT!” Roars the Chief of Security!

Well, uh… if you had to answer…

>IT WAS KINDA LAME, ACTUALLY!
>YOU THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY COOL!
>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!
>WAIT, WHY IS HE ASKING YOU THIS? IS THIS A TEST?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5132976
>>WAIT, WHY IS HE ASKING YOU THIS? IS THIS A TEST?
>>
>>5132976
>>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!
Something makes me think he's got a tie to the place
>>
>>5132976
>YOU DUNNO–IT WAS WEIRD WITH ALL THE SKELETON COWBOYS AND STUFF!
>>
>>5132976
Booze, parties, and cards. It was pretty nifty.
>>
>>5132986
>>5133023
>IS THIS A TEST!?

>>5133004
>PRETTY WACKY, BLUM.

>>5133233
>NOT A BAD TIME IN THE LEAST!

Writing!
>>
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>>5133414
Before you even bother answering, you scramble away to the other side of the massive cargo elevator before replying: this… this is a test, right? It’s gotta be a test!

“Yea…” Ly mumbles, still dazed from passing through the MAGICAL BARRIER surrounding the bunker, “It’s definitely a test! Careful, Stan!”

Ready to dart to either side at a moment’s notice, you’re taken off-guard when the cigar-chomping behemoth standing across from you responds for once not with violence, but with an irritated sigh!

“Nrggh… My… My ole’ man took me there a few times when I was a kid, is all.” Still not punching you, Blumenkrantz turns away to sneer in contempt at the other elevators heading up and down the shaft. “When I heard some jumped-up SKELETAL COWPOKE was terrorizing the place, well…”

Shaking his head in disgust, the Chief of Security shoots you a disdainful look. “Maybe you’re not as HOPELESS as you look, Parble!”

Returning to his previously-scheduled snarling and cigar smoking, Blumenkrantz leaves you poised to dodge on the other end of the lift with your heart beating like a jackhammer! Did… were you supposed to die just now? What happened?!

“I dunno, but don’t even THINK of wastin’ it!” Ly warns, prompting you to stay quietly where you are! He doesn’t have to tell you twice–sh-should you take a picture, though? Just to commemorate this moment?

“Normally I’d say nah, but dis’ kinda behavior is rarer den’ BALLY’S COMET comin’ around… Go for it!”

Your fingers barely graze your phone before you hear a low, wary growl coming from the living statue sharing the elevator with you. Nope, you squeak, you’ll hold off for now…

When the elevator grinds to a halt outside the entrance to the ADMIN WING, it’s back to business as usual! Stomping on ahead, you easily keep up as the crowds of refugees and Good Boy Personnel clear the way for the Head of Security! Maintaining a safe distance from your escort, your ears pick up fragments of whispered conversations from the folk around you:

“... is that her?..
“... taking down skeletons…
“... kinda tiny, isn’t she?
“... MAN that’s a huge racc-! Wait…

Biting your lip as the conversations continue, you can’t help but feel a little excited as you continue deeper into the facility. FINALLY, you grin, the respect and FEAR that you deserve!

KEEP MOVING, FREAK!

Alright, SHEESH--he could learn a thing or two from these jerks, that’s for sure!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5133838
“For the time being, all magical energy and enchantments on your person will be temporarily NULLIFIED. Do y-”

Yep, yep, YEP, you groan, motioning for the ORDER ACOLYTE in front of you to speed things along! You already know what Blumenkrantz will do if you actually stop to, y’know, THINK about it!

“Then quit wasting time or I’ll help you decide AGAIN!” Blumenkrantz snarls, prompting the security goons monitoring the metal detector to work faster in inspecting your items! Giving a pleasant wave to DAISY THE SECURITY DOG, you feel yet ANOTHER wave of dizziness wash over you as the Order member dramatically waves his hands at you. Damn it, you groan as you land face-first on the metal floor, not AGAIN…

Peeling yourself off the ground, a large hand grips you by the scruff of your neck and marches you through the door at the end of the SECURITY TUNNEL. Passing by the desk you were strapped into the last time you were down here, you can’t help but feel a bit uneasy when Blumenkrantz skips the desk entirely and takes you through the door beyond that room!

“Not this time, Parble… the boss wants to see you IN PERSON!
https://youtu.be/Jn4R04SdHeU
I-I-IN PUH-PUH-PERSON?! Frantically adjusting your hair with whatever reflection you can find, you and Blumenkrantz both pause in front of a long, winding hallway that extends deeper into the installation. Wait a minute–it goes DEEPER?!?

Not bothering to respond, The Head of Security pulls out a hidden panel in the wall revealing a keypad nestled between several different sensors! One typed code, one scan through his shades, one muffled keyword and one simply superb piano concerto on a small keyboard later, the corridor…

…Does nothing...

“As much as I’d LOVE to demonstrate what happens to unauthorized guests here,” Blumenkrantz explains with a wicked chuckle, “You and I both are on a tight schedule! Move it!”

Following the snaking corridor for a few minutes, you finally arrive at yet ANOTHER elevator! Traipsing on in with an annoyed sigh, you can still feel the buzz of the Order mage’s spell in your head when Blumenkrantz turns your way with an even MORE serious look on his face!

“Listen, Parble, and listen good: I don’t like this setup whatsoever, but if the boss wants it, that’s what they get!”

You wave him off and nod. Yea, yea, you know he’s gonna kill you if you mess up even o-

“You don’t get it, Stanley, so let me elucidate the point for you: do NOT do anything stupid in there. Don’t even THINK of it.”

Searching the old man’s facet, you slowly decipher Blumenkrantz’ meaning:

He’s… afraid of the boss, isn’t he?

Before he can answer, the elevator doors open in front of you with a pleasant ding…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5133842
https://youtu.be/_bIiXPPEm4A
Still reeling from the spell earlier, the sudden flash of bright lights stuns you as the elevator doors open! Stumbling out of the lift, you rub your eyes as the fuzz around you slowly takes shape…

The foyer’s color is decidedly modern–pieced together with a blend of plants, masonry, and metal, whoever designed it was clearly aiming for some sort of ‘controlled chaos’ look, and totally NAILED IT.

Curtains of zig-zagging metal border the foyer–their snake-like forms dangling lazily like vines on a tree. On closer inspection, you see that they aren’t snakes at all, but bones--thousands of metal bones creating a macabre barrier between the entryway and further in! Dwarfing them all, however, is the massive GOOD BOY MASCOT SCULPTURE hanging over the lobby like a commercialized Sword of Damocles!

Before you or Blumenkrantz can take a step further, your nose picks up something else–something fishy, hot, and possibly slathered in butter.

“Well don’t spend all day at the door–come in!”

Jumping at the sudden voice, you barely recover from the shock before a section of the wall slides upwards and creates a passage leading inward!

“Remember what I said, Parble.” Blumenkrantz hisses as he backs into the elevator. Before you can stop him, the doors slam shut leaving you with only one path left.

Ahead.

You step lightly on the way over as if you were walking on a bubble… or extremely thin ice. Hearing your footsteps echo throughout the villa, you hear a faint series of coughs as you round the corner into… a yard?!

Well, it looks like one, at least. Stepping onto soft, artificial turf that you swear could almost be the real thing, your mouth goes agape as you spot a glass patio table illuminated by candlelight underneath a ceiling glittering with clouds and stars! Just past the table sits a rocky pool–its water slowly cycling through different hues to match the ‘sky’ above.

But what takes the cake isn’t the pool. Or the decor. Or the sky. What really throws you for a loop is the soft whir of wheels cutting across the turf and the masked figure sitting limp in the chair the wheels are attached to…

“Stanley Parble…” wheezes a weak, but familiar voice from behind the respirator, “You finally made it…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5133846
You nearly fail to respond. Sputtering a quick ‘yep’, you utter a quiet ‘d’oh’ under your breath as the wheelchair-bound figure fills the room with a raspy, but amused laugh!

“I know, I know… not quite the strapping, young capitalist you imagined, am I?”

You hate to say it, but yea... wrapped in an admittedly-trendy white trench coat, SONNY--or SUNNY, resembles someone you’d see in a retirement home… or a sick ward! With pale skin rivaling Art’s, long, slicked-back blonde hair with bangs covering the telltale straps of an eyepatch, and an androgenous face, you’d be hard-pressed to connect the jovial, energetic voice you talked to over the phone with this frail thing!

“A thousand apologies, Stanley–if I had known exactly when you were coming I’d have finished, well, preparing myself for you! You wouldn’t believe how hard it is preening and prepping for guests these days…”

Accidentally staring at how one of your boss’ coat sleeves droops limply at their side, you quickly turn your attention elsewhere… and accidentally notice the same thing on Sonny’s legs. D’oh!

“No need to be skittish, Stanley–I’ve been stared at my whole life… not that yours is unwelcome, of course!” Laughing softly at their joke, the yard fills with the sound of a rush of air coursing through a tube connected to the base of Sunny’s mask. Breathing the gas out again with an exultant sigh of relief, your host’s remaining yellow eye glows green with pulsating energy!

“There we are,” they chirp, “nice and perky… much better than COFFEE, that’s for sure! Now then,” your boss continues, gesturing to the table, “I believe I promised you some lobster, didn’t I?”

Your brain takes a few minutes to catch up as you wordlessly pull out a chair and take a seat. Taking a place on the opposite end, Sonny leans forward with interest and cocks their head your way.

“Well Stanley--I’d be lying if I said I haven’t looked forward to this day! Cinnamon is one of my favorite scents, you know!”

You blink. Wha? Oh, that. Yea, you shrug, some demon idol sneezed that onto you back when you were fighting the pirates. It’s pretty neat.

“Just another day in the life, hm?” Your boss laughs! “And to think only a few days ago you were mopping up bone dust! I always did have an eye for talent…” Drumming the fingers of their remaining hand on the glass, Sunny raises an eyebrow your way. “Which reminds me–I’ve been listening to your reports, Stanley–well, yours and Boris’, among others…”

BORIS, you shout, shaking your fist in the artificial air! Here’s the thing, you begin, Boris is a dirty rat-

“One moment, if you please–I think I hear brunch arriving!”

Pausing for the moment, you follow the scent of melted butter as the culprit arrives on a squeaky-wheeled metal cart…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5133848
Momentarily distracted by the platters of steaming-hot shellfish and sides, it takes you a moment to realize that someone’s actually PUSHING the cart! It takes you even longer to realize that you know exactly who it is!

“Calling it ‘mouth-watering’ wouldn’t do it justice, Christy.” Croons your boss as the tight-lipped secretary begins transferring the dishes to the table! Catching your eye for a moment through her circular spectacles, you just barely notice a change in her blank expression–what the change was, however, is unclear!

“Well don’t be shy--say hello!” Drumming their fingers expectantly on the table, a pleasant smile forms behind your boss’ mask as Christy glances between the two of you with increasing anxiety! Just when things get awkward, Sonny dispels it all with a well-timed laugh!

“I’m sorry, you two–I aimed for a joke, but I suppose it didn’t land, did it?” Wheeling over to Christy’s still-uncomfortable side, Sunny shakes their head in shame! “My, my, where HAVE my manners gone today? You’ll have to excuse the cold reception–Stanley… you see, Christy here had a bit of an accident in the past–one that left her vocal chords somewhat scrambled!”

As your brain slowly connects the dots, Sonny gives the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “She’s damn good at everything else, though! Booking appointments, collecting data, cooking a meal–I know she’s Blumenkrantz’ PA, of course, but with a skillset like that how could I not borrow her every now and again?”

Giving her employer a polite smile, Christy moves like a ghost around the table to serve you a plate of lobster, shredded brussel sprouts, and a hefty portion of mashed potatoes. As her gaze lingers on your face for a bit too long for comfort, the personal assistant gives Sunny a quick bow before retreating in through the passage she entered from.

“Now then,” your boss continues in a soft, but firm tone, “We’ve got quite a bit to talk about, you and I, but you must be absolutely famished!” Gesturing to the plate in front of you, Sonny motions for you to go ahead. “Go on, Stanley–dig in! I won’t take no for an answer!” Pausing to give you a long, hard stare with their glowing eye, your boss breaks the spell with a mischievous wink! “Or will I? Don’t worry about me–I’m on more of a liquid diet these days! Glug glug!”

Staring at the bouquet of lavish food in front of you, how do you proceed?
>YEA, DIG IN! SMELLS GREAT!
>NNNAH, YOU’RE GOOD!
>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?
>WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT JUST NOW?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5133855
>>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?

Oh hey was that the girl I strangled at that party? Good times, amirite?
>>
>>5133855
>YEA, DIG IN! SMELLS GREAT!
>>
That's it for tonight, folks--got plans in a bit and have some Sunday morning as well! Can't promise an update until SUNDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST. Might be a little earlier/later than that, but we'll see! Thanks for playing!
>>
>>5133855
>>ERRR, WHY DON’T WE TALK A BIT FIRST WHILE IT COOLS DOWN?
>>
>>5133862
>>5133974
>LET'S LET IT COOL DOWN A LITTLE!

>>5133869
>FUCK YES, FREE FOOD!

I've got a little bit of time this morning before running off for the afternoon, so les' do it! Also fun fact: Bones is now over 1800 pages long on Docs! Thanks for the support, boneheads!

Writing!
>>
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>>5134505
Twirling the silver fork between your fingers, you can’t help but hesitate a bit at the mouth-watering feast placed in front of you. For FREE, even!

“Not to worry, Stanley–I’m sure he lived a very fulfilling lobster life-”

The food ain’t the problem, you interrupt as you place the fork back onto the table! What’s the big idea bringing in the girl you apparently strangled at that party? AND cooking you brunch?

Sunny cocks their head to the side with an amused look on their masked face. “Why, to get revenge, of course! Fair’s fair, right?”

Pushing away from the table, your boss fills the garden area with another round of laughter! Slapping their thigh, Sonny shakes their head as they recover from the laughing fit. “Or maybe… maybe I wanted to prove a point? Or perhaps Christy’s just a superstar and can cook a mean lobster? Take it from management, sweetheart–staffing a kitchen is murder these days…”

Your brow furrows involuntarily as impatience wells up within you. You’re gonna go with B: PROVING A POINT. As the words escape your lips, Sunny taps the tines of their own fork on the side of the glass table to produce a ringing sound!

“What can I say? I’m predictable!” Releasing a ‘you got me’ sigh, your boss shrugs as a fresh burst of gas enters their mask tube. “You’re starting to know me a bit too well, Stanley–play your cards right and you’ll get to know even MORE, you dog, you!” Shooting you a mischievous wink across the table, the boss clears their throat before adopting a more serious tone.

“Not to worry, Stan–besides rending her larynx into a jelly, your erm… accident conveniently left her too traumatized to clearly remember the event–quite convenient for all parties involved, wouldn’t you agree?”

Bolting upright from your chair, you jab an accusatory finger in your employer’s direction–Are they crazy or WHAT?! What the hell does that prove, anyways?!

“What it proves, Stanley, is that when life gives you lemons, be they rotting, unripe, or infested with parasites, a bit of gumption and the right hand can make the sweetest lemonade.” They reply in a pleasant tone. “Other people might not see it–hell, they might even give up on you, but I do and I won’t--you, Christy, Blumenkrantz, hell, everyone at this company has their quirks! All I ask is that you have faith in how we utilize them, is all!”

Still not convinced, you ask what their quirk is, earning another laugh from your boss.

“HA! We don’t have nearly enough time to list all of those! Speaking of, Stanley, I know you’ve got a schedule to keep, so let’s get down to brass tacks…”

What’s next on the agenda?
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5134713
>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>>
>>5134713
>>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>>
>>5134713
>MISSING PERSONNEL!
>>
>>5134728
>>5134777
>>5134800
>MISSING PERSONNEL!

>>5134777
>BLACKOUTS!

Writing a quick update or two before getting ready for tomorrow--HOLD ONTA' SOMETHIN'!
>>
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“First thing’s first–take a look underneath your napkin.”

Errr, alright… Taking a seat again and removing the napkin from its place on the table, you spot a trio of photographs underneath! As you pick them up to examine them further, a grim story forms inside of your head–one that only corroborates what you’ve already heard!

“Despite making significant headway in clearing out the UNDEAD HORDES from CLEARWATER, all is not well, as you’re no doubt already aware.”

Listening to your boss’ explanation, you examine the first photograph for any specific clues to latch on to. Depicting an abandoned GOOD BOY APC, anyone else would assume that the riders had just gotten out and left for a pee break–running engines, opened doors, lit headlights–all signs point to no fight of any kind…

“Besides those goddamn looters popping up left and right, the disappearing employee issue has come to a head–At first Blumenkrantz and I had chalked it up to them just ‘quitting’, so to speak–laziness or poor moral fiber, perhaps–why be a security guard when you can be a bandit, right?”

I mean, you mutter as you flip to the next picture showing some blood-speckled drag marks cutting into a hedge, it’s a decent question, right?

“A brief stint in highway banditry and a screaming death versus GENEROUS HAZARD PAY, ROLLOVER PTO, and ALL THE DOGGIE BONES YOU COULD ASK FOR... No, sweetheart, it isn’t. Don’t be a retard.”

Moving on to the last picture with a noncommittal shrug, you find yourself staring at a picture of several GOOD BOY SECURITY GOONS posing in front of a familiar sign depicting a clown about to deepthroat a three-scoop cone of ice cream. What was that place called again?

BIG TOP CREAMERY, if what our security operatives say is true.” Your boss answers. THAT’S the one! “If you know the name then you know that the establishment is uncomfortably close to THE LODGE… practically ‘down the street’ to use the parlance of our times!”

Damn, you think to yourself, you really oughta’ grab a scoop or two with the gang once you’re outta’ here!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5135889
Stuffing the pictures into your SWEATY FUR COAT for safekeeping, you direct your attention back to your boss. You already know that people are going missing around here, you groan, can they give you anything USEFUL for a change?!

“Stanley, stick close to me and I’ll give you everything you want, need, and deserve–starting with a hot tip from a surviving operative!” Taking another breath from their mask, Sonny runs a hand through their slicked-back hair.

“Using his testimony and several ‘bait’ vehicles, we’ve determined that whoever, or whatever is making off with company property is only doing so when the victims are in SMALL GROUPS. Larger convoys and bigger teams get through without a scratch, but our logistics and supply operators are taking the brunt of whatever the hell’s going on. Lots of simoleons falling through our fingers, Stanley. A lot of cheddar.”

Adjusting their GOOD BOY TIE, Sonny looks you in the eye with grim determination. “I won’t mince words here–I know you’re our best bet for putting this issue to bed. Our other teams are too busy fighting BANDITS, SKELETON STRAGGLERS, AND WILD DOGS, so I leave it in your VERY capable hands.” Punctuating the sentence with an apologetic shrug, your employer continues. “It’s most-likely separate from your standing objectives with the LIEUTENANTS AND LICH, but you’d be making a lot of people happy taking care of this situation, Stan. Especially me…”

Averting your eyes from your boss’ suggestive wink, you instead give Sunny a thumb’s up of approval–just roam around in a small group, huh? Sounds peachy!”

“Believe me, it’ll be much more than that if you succeed…” Purrs your boss as they lean back in their wheelchair with a pleased look on their masked face! “Remember what I said about BALI earlier, Stanley? Pull this off and you might want to start shopping for towels…”

You’re pretty sure your GAMUGO COMMEMORATIVE TOWEL is waiting for you back at your apartment, so you’re basically ready to board now! After this SKELETON SHIT blows over, that is!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5135891
GOOD BOY thanks you for your hard work, trust me!” Your boss replies with a grin in their tone! “BLUMENKRANTZ can brief you if you require any further tactical information or equipment for the operation.” Stifling a dry cough, your employer cocks their head to the side. “Now then–there are a few more topics I’d like to breach, but I know you must have questions too. Is there anything that calls out to you at the moment?”

Before you can answer, Sunny glances briefly at your meal. “Might want to dig into that soon, as well–you wouldn’t believe how quickly bacteria settles into shellfish! Yuck!”

If you had to choose…
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>BORIS AND HIS CREW!
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>NOPE, YOU’RE GOOD FOR NOW! TIME TO GO!
>WRITE-IN!

Also,

>DIG INTO MEAL!
>DON’T DIG INTO MEAL!
>GIVE SONNY/SUNNY A SPOONFUL!
>SAY YOU’RE ALLERGIC TO SHELLFISH!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5135895
That's all for tonight, folks--today kinda got swept away! Should have more MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Have a good start to your week!
>>
>>5135895
>>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!

>DIG INTO MEAL!

He must know something about the blackouts cause the color associated with Wild Magic this whole quest has been green.
>>
>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>DIG IN!

Something tells me that anything they could've done to our meal would be pointless, because they easily could have done something else to us if they wanted to. Might as well eat, even if my gut instinct tells me not to.

>>5135904
>Spoiler
Solid reasoning.

I think we should ask Blumenkrantz if he knows anything about Mitzi's dad and the National Guard Armory nearby. He was a 'Nam Vet, right? He might've had a few contacts in the army still. Maybe he'll know something.

I also think we should take Talbot to see Denise, since she knows the most about his conditions. Might be able to improve his abilities, even.
>>
>>5135895
>>5135912 +1
>>
>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>DIG INTO MEAL!
>>
>>5135895
>YOUR BLACKOUTS!
>YOUR FUTURE WITH THE COMPANY!
>DIG INTO MEAL!
I mean, we did say we'd trust him so it'd just look suspicious if we didn't eat anything. also its free food so why the hell not.
>>
>>5135904
>>5135912
>>5135985
>>5136545
>BLACKOUTS!
>FUTURE WITH COMPANY!
>DIG IN!

>>5135994
>BLACKOUTS!
>DIG IN!

Looks like we're going for THE TRIPLE TROUBLE, folks. Hold onto your hats! WRITING!
>>
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Well, you begin, poking at the feast in front of you with your fork, since you’ve got them on the line and all, why don’t we talk about the FUTURE?

… with the COMPANY, that is! Lord knows you’ve earned a raise by now!

“Yes,” Sonny nods, watching you play with your food with interest, “I think you’ve earned one too!” Leaning closer from the opposite end of the table, your boss shoots you a conspiratorial grin. “I won’t lie, Stan--if anyone’s going to come out on top of all this, it’s GOOD BOY. In the absence of any real law enforcement or government aid, we have acted as the sole saviors of CLEARWATER’S huddled masses… what do you say about that?”

You shrug as you shovel some mashed potatoes into your mouth. Ooh, garlicky!

“My thoughts exactly.” Replies your boss with a look of pride on their masked face! “Even without this… setback, our brand is more popular than ever–my father started this business with little more than a few bones, a shack in his yard, and the help of a heretical cult.” Punctuating the last bit with a laugh, Sonny dramatically throws their remaining arm out to the side! “And look at it now, Stanley: products in every store across the states… and the globe! Stock! Investors! And that’s not even scraping the surface of the other pies we’ve got our fingers poking into…”

Watching you eat for a moment, Sunny lets out a long, pleased sigh. “You must have seen them all by now, though–our labs, the private military, our holdings on Mars-”

Wait, what?

“Just a joke, Stanley–gotta make sure you’re still listening… or was it?” Raising an eyebrow at you, your boss waves the topic away with their hand. “I don’t see the point in hiding how much you fascinate me, Stanley, so I won’t–I’ve never been one to beat around the bush.” Rolling over to your side of the table, Sunny takes a moment to stare deeply into your eyes. “Once this situation is dealt with, only GOOD BOY will stand tall amidst the ashes…and when it’s all said and done, Stanley, I can give you ANYTHING.”

The green aura around their eyes is almost… mesmerizing.

“So the question is, what DO you want your future to be?”

You take another quick forkful of potatoes to think up an appropriate answer! Damn it, you should have looked up salaries before this!

>IS THAT PERSONAL ASSISTANT POSITION STILL OPEN?
>YOU SEE YOURSELF BEHIND THEIR DESK!
>YOU WANT A CUSHY JOB WITH LOTS OF TRAVEL, PEOPLE TO BOSS AROUND, AND EXPENSE ACCOUNTS!
>YOU’VE BEEN WANTING TO GIVE THE WHOLE ‘GOLD-DIGGER’ THING A TRY SINCE THREAD 1, ACTUALLY!
>YOU LIKE BUSTING HEADS–MAYBE SECURITY?
>YOU WANNA KEEP BEING A JANITOR… BUT, LIKE, MASTER JANITOR!
>YOU KINDA WANNA GO TO COLLEGE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5137058
>>YOU SEE YOURSELF BEHIND THEIR DESK!

This but with SUPREME JANITORIAL RIGHTS.
>>
>>5137058
>>YOU WANNA KEEP BEING A JANITOR… BUT, LIKE, MASTER JANITOR!
I sense fae intrusion, damn faeries.
>>
>>5137066
>BEHIND THEIR DESK WITH SUPREME JANITORIAL RIGHTS!

>>5137070
>MASTER JANITOR!

Gonna mix these together to speed shit up--seems pretty Stanny to me. Writing!
>>
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Choking down your food, you sputter out the first answer your systems can put together: you wanna be in their seat!

“Oh?” Muses your boss with interest!

Well, sorta, you backpedal! You wouldn’t mind being THE BOSS, but you don’t really wanna go to meetings or do any work, you know?

“Believe me, Stan–I’ve been very busy lately… but I think I know what you’re getting at.”

Fidgeting under Sonny’s bemused gaze, your mind goes into freefall as you continue adding pieces: but you don’t wanna be a JANITOR– unless you’re, like, a MASTER JANITOR! But without all the responsibilities of being a MASTER JANITOR, get me? Maybe you could get a new suit or something. Or an assistant! So-

MANAGEMENT. Got it.” Sonny interrupts with a snap of their fingers. “Can’t promise MY chair, of course, but play your cards right and-” A sly grin forms behind your boss’ mask. “... but I’m getting ahead of myself. You’ve certainly got the gist of things, Stan…” they continue, turning to roll back towards their side of the table. “Do your job right and the world, and all that entails, will be yours...”

The wheelchair’s parts skid to a halt as your employer looks back at you with a paralyzing stare.

“As long as you’re trustworthy, that is…”

Nearly spitting up your brussel sprouts, you chew your food a few times before replying with a confused ‘huh?

“Trust is a… funny thing, isn’t it? Goes against everything I believe in, really.” Pacing around the yard as best they can in a wheelchair, Sonny lets out a weary, drawn-out breath.

“It can take ages to build… and seconds to break. You can devote your entire existence trying to gain someone’s trust only to see someone else receive it for nothing...”

Tentatively returning to your meal, you try to avoid your boss’ increasingly-sullen expression as you finally take a bite from the lobster. Holy SHIT!

“Good, I take it?” Sonny asks, cloudy demeanor lifting almost instantaneously! “Like I said, Stanley–I know talent when I see it! She’s not much of a conversationalist, that Christy, but she knows how to prepare a damn good meal!”

Tearing into the butter-coated shellfish, you express your approval with a satisfied ‘mmMMM!’ This tastes AMAZING!

“I’ll bet it does…” Sonny remarks, watching you with interest. “You know, Stan, all this lobster reminds me of a story!”

Great, you mutter between chews, can it wait?

“I guarantee you’ll find it interesting...”

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fork to continue. You can’t have ANYTHING nice, can you?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5137237
Watching you eat with a proud look on their face, your employer returns to the head of the table. “There was an article I read the other day… before all of this happened, mind you.” Sonny explains, gesturing to the bunker around you. “A man and his wife went to his college friend’s restaurant–seafood, I believe, quite upscale. According to the author, the couple would visit the restaurant once a month.”

You blink as you stuff some more lobster into your mouth. Soundsh ‘spenshif!

“Not for them, no,” Sonny continues with a shake of their head. “Being friends, the owner of the restaurant wouldn’t DREAM of taking their money–if they paid with card, he’d have it declined. If they left some cash, he’d run after them and return it! Can you imagine?”

There is a picture forming in your head, yea! It’s kinda like you crashing on Syb’s couch!

“Exactly! Knowing their friend would refuse payment, the couple tried to order light–two waters, a basket of bread, and maybe an entree to split. Only fair, right?” A singular stifled chuckle escapes your boss’ mouth as if they remembered something funny. “But wouldn’t you know it–the waiters would take the order, as they should, then return with a plate of lobster for the mister, a seafood linguine for the lady, and a bottle of the finest malbec for them both! Uncorked, of course!”

Grabbing some more mashed potatoes, your eyelids start to grow a little heavy–is there a point to this?

“There MIGHT be!” Sunny chirps with a conspiratorial wink! “This became their routine, you see–an unspoken ritual…” Wistfully looking to the starry ceiling, the boss takes another long breath from their mask. “Anyways, here’s the good part–ready?”

Errr, you mutter as you drag some brussel sprouts through a smidgen of melted butter on your plate, go for it!

“One night, as they did countless times before, the couple came into the restaurant looking for their monthly meal. The friends hugged, a table was set, and before anyone could reach for a wallet, the food was served: I don’t need to remind you what they got, do I?”

Better act like you remember… Nope!

“Naturally! Like clockwork, the feast began-the man with his lobster, the woman with her pasta, and both sipping the wine.”

Another stifled laugh. What’s their deal?!

“So they ate. And drank. And talked. AND laughed. And it was only after the couple had returned home and prepared for bed when the woman found her beau lingering in the restroom… care to guess why?”

You dunno… DIARRHEA?

“Close, but no cigar, Stanley–not that you could get it on the first try!”

Dang it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5137241
Tapping the glass table with their knuckles, your boss’ face lights up as the punchline prepares for launch! “GLASS, Stanley! Countless tiny, coarse, insignificant pieces!”

You pause mid-chew as you process things. You uh… you don’t get it.

“Well that’s where things get interesting!” Sonny gushes! “You see, they only found out what happened after the man died halfway to the hospital–tore his digestive tract to ribbons, as you can imagine! Talk about indigestion!”

Letting your fork drop to the table, you stop chewing as a sour taste spreads through your mouth…

“It took the police a few days to piece things together, but it could only have come from one place, couldn’t it? When they arrested the restaurant owner, it all made sense!”

Covering their mouth to slow their laughter, your boss continues to sputter out the rest of the story: “Th-the owner… was friends with him back in Middle School! And…” They stammer, barely holding their laughter in, “It was all because Lobster Man promised to take care of his guinea pig… but he FORGOT! He let it die!”

Sonny barely gets the rest of the story out before doubling over in hysterics! Slapping their thighs uncontrollably, your employer howls with laughter for a solid minute or two before finally regaining their composure with a few breaths from their mask.

“So…” they wheeze, “I just… I just found it so interesting…” Glancing at your leftovers through a teary eye, Sunny takes one last breath before regaining their composure. “... how someone could hold a grudge like that… all over some broken trust…”

Resting their chin on their hand, your boss gives you a genial smile from behind their mask. “Trust is… a funny thing, isn’t it?”

You blink in response.

“And you, Stanley… you’ve been trustworthy, haven’t you?”

You should probably answer that…
>YES–YES YOU HAVE!
>NO–TELL THEM EVERYTHING: CLIFF AND THE GREASERS, YOUR MEETING WITH THE OPERATOR, THE DEADLY GOO YOU SWIPED FROM THE DAM…
>K-KINDA! TELL THEM ABOUT ONE OR MORE THING FROM ABOVE! (WHICH ONES?)
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>CRY! IT GOT YOU OUT OF A SPEEDING TICKET ONCE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
That's it for tonight, all--don't worry, we'll get to the other topics you voted for next time! Should be ready for more TUESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Get hype!
>>
>>5137243
>NO–TELL THEM EVERYTHING: CLIFF AND THE GREASERS, YOUR MEETING WITH THE OPERATOR, THE DEADLY GOO YOU SWIPED FROM THE DAM…
>>
>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>>
>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
To all the anons disturbed by the story - glass fragments small enough to be unnoticed won't cause damage, so your digestive tracts are safe.
>>
>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>>
>>5137243
>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>>
>>5137243
>>DEFLECT–ARE THEY TRUSTWORTHY? REALLY?
>>
>>5137420
>N-NO... YOU AREN'T!

>>5137487
>>5137496
>>5137636
>>5137993
>>5137997
>NO U

Writing!
>>
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Still recovering from the charming story, you answer your boss with all the tact and respect you can manage at this point: uhhhh, are THEY?

“...pardon?”

Stabbing your fork into your table scraps, you jab an accusatory finger in Sonny’s direction–they heard you! Where do they get off asking you about trust when they’re the one telling creepy stories, making maimed chicks cook dinner for laughs, and having huge-ass conversations through old phones!? Everyone’s been harping about trust lately, but how the heck can you trust any of THEM, huh? HUH!?

Your host doesn’t answer right away–drumming their fingers on the table with increasing intensity, the dull thunk of fingers on glass grows to a crescendo–but ends with a resigned sigh.

“Stanley, you wound me.” Sunny hisses under their breath. “I’ve given you a steady job, carte blanche in assembling a team and equipment for your current task, an answer to every question you’ve asked, AND a face-to-face meeting over a SCRUMPTIOUS lobster brunch… and, most importantly, a future!”

Leaning closer from their chair, your employer stares daggers at you from across the table. “Tell me: do you act this prickly towards everyone trying to help you, or am I just… special?

You wave away the last word with your hand–they didn’t answer your questio-

AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER MINE!” Sunny roars as they slam their fist into the table! As a network of cracks spiders across the glass surface, your boss takes a few heaving breaths from their mask to catch their breath, giving you both a few moments of tense silence.

“... You really don’t, do you? After everything I’ve done…” Breaking the silence with a slight timbre in their voice, Sonny stares at you with a weary gaze. “Stanley… you’re… you’re-”

Sonny’s morose expression instantly gives way to raucous laughter!

“You’re something else, you know that?”

Wait, wha?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5138761
Steadying themselves against the table, you only just realize the rivulets of blood dripping from the tears on your boss’ glove.

“I KNEW there was something special in you, Stan–from the moment I saw that application of yours!” Fighting off their laughing fit, Sunny rests their chin in their bleeding hand as they let out a satisfied sigh.

“You know–you’d kill in the business world. Might need some help with numbers, wardrobe, and the ART OF THE DEAL, but Christ, Stan, you can smell bullshit like a SHARK!

Still reeling from the sudden change of tone, you raise an eyebrow at your employer–so wait, they aren’t trustworthy?

HELL NO! I’m a CEO, Stanley–I can barely trust myself!” Wiping a rogue tear from their glowing eye, Sonny sends a bemused grin your way. “Sure as hell can’t trust you either, though–what were you thinking, Stan?”

Watching you expectantly, your boss eventually elicits an innocent ‘huh?’ from you. DAMN, THEY’RE GOOD!

“Playtime’s over, Stan–don’t BS me: you’ve got your pet scientist smuggling FLESH-EATING CHEMICALS into the bunker, you’ve got a whole band of SKELETON REFUGEES mobilizing in the hills, and even worse: I have to hear about the latter from PONDEROSA!

Frowning at your rap sheet, Sunny scolds you with a series of ‘tsk’s. “If it was anyone else, Stan, I’d have you stuffed and mounted on my wall by now, but I like ya… a LOT, so let’s just start with the big question: WHY?

You start the explanation with your trademark eyeroll–at this point you oughta’ have this info laminated and put on a lanyard around your neck! Long story short, you begin, not all of the skeletons are evil–sure, they’re violent at times and can be dicks, but there’s a bunch out there who are fighting against TIM’S control!

“Like the ones in JOPLIN, huh?” Sonny asks as they lean forward with interest. Well… yea! And they’ve been super helpful, too–without the greaser’s help you would have died ages ago, and thanks to some of the pirates and Joplin-folk, you’re sitting here right now! And you got free drinks!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5138768
Mulling your words over with a noncommittal ‘hmmm’, your boss cocks their head to the side. “So you’re saying they’re cooperative.”

With you, yea! They wanna clean this mess up just as much as you do! Face scrunched up in thought, Sonny begins to drum their fingers against the table again. “That’s cute, Stan–adorable, even, but you know they’re thralls, right? They could drink with you one second, then tear your pretty little throat out the next.”

You shrug. Isn’t that the same as, like, an average business meeting?

“HA! THE BOARD MEMBERS would love that one!” Grinning behind their mask, Sunny responds with a resigned shrug. “Alright, if you vouch for them then that’s good enough for me–should set up a meeting, though…” Noticing you staring as they continue to drum their fingers, your boss waves you away. “But you don’t have to worry about that–you’ve got bigger fish to fry, hm?”

Yea, you mutter, but do they really believe you? That was a cinch!

“Think of it this way–if your little buddies kill us all and take over the world, you’ll be the one who gave them the okay!” Leaning back in their chair, your host shoots you a smug grin. “I can live with that!”

Well when they put it like that…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5138772
“Moving right along: you can have your nerd back. Reports indicate that if she doesn’t stop sweating, she’ll drown in her cell.” Removing a PDA from inside their coat, your boss gingerly places it on the table before tapping a few buttons. “GOOD BOY will be confiscating the CHEMICALS, though. No fussing–they are technically company property.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Sonny’s faster on the draw!

“Relax, Stan–we’re not going to test it on anyone while we’re already hemorrhaging people…well, not right NOW, anyways! Ha!” Stuffing the PDA back into their pocket with a laugh, Sunny pauses for a moment as they spot something else within their coat. “Well, well, WELL--almost forgot about that…”

Leaning to get a better look, you ask what the hell they’re talking about! “A little experiment those robe-wearing freaks cooked up for me… you know–THE ORDER OF THE WANDERING EYE?

You groan. CURT.

“Awww, you’re making friends!” Sonny chirps as they remove a remote control-like gizmo from their pocket. “Full disclosure, Stan, we had a little ‘pow-wow’ the other day regarding your, for lack of a better word, ‘MAGICALNESS.’”

Ly would love to hear that if he wasn’t sealed away or whatever! You’re MAGICAL now!

“Indeed you are!” Your host nods as they tighten a GREEN CRYSTAL attached to the top of the device. “And that topic had me thinking about something else–a shot in the dark, mind, but an aimed one…”

Pointing the crystal in your direction, Sonny gives you a reassuring smile. “The eggheads said this baby emits a HIGH-MAGNITUDE PROTRACTED MAGICAL PULSE–in English that means it’ll send a magical signal. I’d like to perform a quick test, if you don’t mind…”

Before you can protest, the doohickey is already pointed at your chest! “For the sake of the experiment I can’t tell you what’s about to happen, but rest-assured it won’t hurt! Probably.”

As Sunny’s finger goes to press a button, you feel your heart pick up the pace in your chest! Wh-what do!?

>DODGE!
>STAY STILL, DAMN IT!
>SAY SOMETHING (WHAT?)
>FLIP THE TABLE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5138777
>>STAY STILL, DAMN IT!
>>
>>5138777
>STAY STILL, DAMN IT!
>>
>>5138785
>>5138939
>STAY STILL!

Looks like we're going with the 'safe' option! ROLL ME 1d100 FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>5138957
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>5138957
Nat1 to do a green chimpout on this guy
>>
>>5138959
>>5139010
Feel free to roll again for the third--think I've got one more update left in me!

>>5139010
Let's be realistic, anon--I'll probably just kill Art again!
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>5139076
>>
>>5138959
>>5139010
>>5139079
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

That's the spirit! Writing!
>>
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Just before they can activate the device, you spring into action!

And by ‘action’ we mean you freeze up like a deer in the headlights. Good going. Just as the device emits a flashing green light, you feel everything g


Sputtering back to reality, you find yourself one step away from hopping into the illuminated rock pool on the edge of the room!

“Easy there, Stanley!” Calls your boss from the head of the table, “Don’t want you soaked to the bone…”

Blinking in confusion, you whirl around to face your host as your senses come back to you! What the hell was that, you ask! Did they invent a friggin’ TELEPORTER!?

“Could you imagine?” Sunny replies in a dreamy tone. “Unfortunately it’s nothing as marketable as that… still,” they explain, twirling the device in their hand, “YOU’LL definitely be interested…”

Aiming the device your way again, your boss presses the switch one more time. As another flash of green light arcs from t


“Why hello, Stan…”

Your systems reboot mere inches from your employer’s chair–arms extended forward like some kind of FRANKENSTEIN! Retracting them before it gets weird, your perplexed gaze shifts between your hands and the DEVICE– Did that thing make you-

“Black out? Certainly looked like it!” Holding the gizmo out for you to see, a triumphant smile forms on Sonny’s masked face! “And it looks like we’ve found at least one culprit…”

Poking at the device with your finger, you give the crystal embedded on the top a good scowl–this… this doesn’t make any sense!

“There’s quite a few things that don’t make sense these days, Stan–but this little test certainly puts a few things into perspective…” Pointing the whatsit towards the ceiling and pressing the button, both you and Sonny recoil as a fresh blast of magical energy fires into the stars! As you watch the crystal hiss and hum with otherworldly energy, your view shifts to your boss’ face–does this mean your FUNKE STATES are caused by… MAGIC?!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5139229
“I’m a practitioner of the BUSINESS ARTS, Stanley–not a scientist.” Sunny shrugs. “I can’t say for certain that this is THE cause of your little… ‘episodes’,” They explain with one hand’s worth of finger quotes, “but it could very well be A cause.”

‘A’ cause, huh? Rubbing your chin as you consider the possibilities, the only thing you manage to accomplish is becoming more confused! So was someone blasting you with one of these doohickeys at that CHRISTMAS PARTY? YOUR BROTHER’S WEDDING?!

“Unlikely–it’s not exactly subtle, now is it?” Asks your boss as they examine the device closer. “My father and his… associates did a bit of research on WILD MAGIC during their cult tenure, however–perhaps wayward magic with a pinch of booze and stress?”

You shake your head in defeat–who the hell knows? Watching you with a pensive look, Sunny mutters something from behind their mask. “There IS THE ORDER… They could certainly tell you more if you stopped by their bunker here…”

Yea, you groan, but then you’d have to deal with CURT! EEECK! Trying to scrub his image from your mind, another, MUCH cuter picture forms in his place: SYBIL!

“The one with the podcast?” Sonny asks. “Why not?! If you’re happy, Stanley, then I’M happy.”

Resolving to consult her about it later, you turn your attention to the next line of business–that device…

“I’ve had my fun with it.” sighs your boss as they look at the gizmo with disdain. “Personally I’d destroy it–wouldn’t want someone turning it on me! Then again, you’re more than welcome to take it if you like.” A smile forms behind the mask. “Think of it as a… BONUS. Compliments of GOOD BOY, of course.”

Weighing your options, you’re once again interrupted by your host. “Since you’re already in ‘Thinking Mode, was there anything else that needed to be addressed? Your scientist friend will be released once this meeting is adjourned.”

Is there?

>THE TRAITOR!
>BORIS AND HIS CREW!
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>ANY THOUGHTS ON MY TEAMMATES?
>NOPE, YOU’RE GOOD FOR NOW! TIME TO GO!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5139232
That's it for tonight, folks--won't be on my main rig Wednesday night, but I should be able to do an update or two WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Otherwise keep an eye out on THURSDAY AROUND THAT SAME TIME! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5139232
>>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>>
>>5139232
>SONNY/SUNNY’S INJURIES AND CONDITIONS!
>THE TRAITOR!
>>
>>5139232
>>5139274 +1
>>
>>5139232
>>5139274
>>
>>5139232
>NOPE, YOU’RE GOOD FOR NOW! TIME TO GO!
This guy/gal is bad news. I know they say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but nine times out of ten the initial judgement is right anyway.
>>
>>5139232
D'oh, forgot one other choice! Besides choosing a topic,

What do you do with THE GIZMO??
>TAKE IT!
>SMASH IT!
>CHUCK IT DRAMATICALLY INTO THE POOL!
>KEEP CRYSTAL, DESTROY DEVICE!
>WRITE-IN!

Seeya at the usual update time!
>>
>>5139524
>TAKE IT!
>>
>>5139524
I say we have Syb look at it, then destroy it beyond recovery and dispose of the remains.
>>
>>5140410
>TAKE IT!
>>
>>5139524
>>TAKE IT!
>>
>>5139274
>>5139280
>>5139339
>>5139361
>WHY DO YOU HAVE NO LEG LOL

>>5139471
>NAH LET'S BOOGIE

>>5139651
>>5140412
>>5140435
>TAKE THE DEVIIIICE!

Sorry for the lateness--had a lot of stuff come up after work. On the bright side, I wrote some of the update in my spare time, so get ready!

>>5139471
You're gonna make your boss sad, anon :c
>>
You stick your tongue out in concentration before ultimately choosing to TAKE the device--better to hold onto it for safekeeping, right? At the very least you can shine it in someone's eyes for kicks.

"Sound reasoning, Stanley--no safer hiding place than on one's person...." Sonny purrs as they watch you pocket the doodad. "And before you ask, yes, that's the only one I had--the ORDER and other magical practitioners use similar tools to experiment with magic, but only that one is tuned to, well, YOU. As far as I'm aware, anyways!"

Patting the newest edition to your INVENTORY, you respond to your boss with an unconvinced frown--so why even give it away or trash it if anyone in a robe and wizard hat could whip one up?

Sunny shrugs. "Sentimental value? Or maybe it's another one of my DARK PLANS slowly coming to fruition!"

Shrugging their attempt at a joke off, your mind drifts like a dandelion spore to the next question grating against your mind--what's with the missing legs and stuff? Kinda freaky! As the words escape your mouth, you can almost hear a groan of disapproval from beyond the magic blocking out your powers... and Ly. Did you say something wrong?

"It IS freaky, isn't it?" Sunny laughs, waving the stumps where their two missing limbs used to be. "I keep forgetting this is the first time we've met in person... You're quite the lucky duck, aren't you?"

You shrug--it's been a mixed bag.

"You'll warm up to me eventually, Stan..." chuckles your boss. "And to answer your question, these are just some lasting marks father left me with during his time in THE ORDER OF TIBIUS... when their grim master required an offering of flesh, mainly." Brushing their hair back to show off a silk eyepatch with the GOOD BOY MASCOT embroidered in gold, Sunny gives you a wink with their remaining eye.

"Turns out fame, wealth, and power costs an arm and a leg these days! And an eye. And a few other bits and pieces!"

HA! You get it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5140553
Right, you muse after recovering from the joke, their dad was one of those CULT MEMBERS in town, wasn't he? You found a list of names when you visited the DEAN'S VILLA at the college, and-

"And let me guess--he wasn't in good health." Interrupts your host with a grave look on their face. "I won't pretend that I was fond of the bigwigs my father pranced around in robes and sacrificed chickens with, but their recent and systemic deaths have left a bad taste in my mouth--one that I'd sleep MUCH better with if I knew who was responsible..."

Scrunching your face up in thought, a word slowly emerges from the fog clouding your mind--TRAITOR!

"Good, I was worried you had forgotten." Sonny confirms with a sagely nod. "As you're no doubt aware, the list of remaining ex-cultists is growing smaller by the minute... and if the news you've provided me is true, the remainder might as well be dead already."

Hold on, you interject, who exactly are you talking about, here? You know the Dean and Principal Teach were part of the club, but-

"There were a few prominent doctors at the local hospital," begins your host, "the commander of the local National Guard outpost, most of the City Council AND the Mayor, and, of course, the Chief of Police." Counting what they can on their remaining fingers, Sunny turns to you with a frown on their face. "Along with some executives here at GOOD BOY: one of which was MR. PONDEROSA."

If you had a drink you'd spit it out. Riiiight, you sputter, Boris' dad was part of that crew too!

"And his mother--don't forget." Your boss adds with a shrug. "She died much earlier, however--that's a whole different story. In any case, Stanley," Sonny continues, leaning closer, "All that seems to be left are the next of kin--myself, Boris, and a few other family members scattered across the city."

Running through the list of people in your head, a light starts to blink inside your brain--what about th-

"Me? Boris? Please, Stan..." Groans your boss. "Even if I WAS that stupid, what would I gain from killing my customers and employees?"

Well, you shrug, pretty much all of the town's government positions are empty, so-

"And they'll be filled again once this all blows over--by the GOVERNMENT." Sonny explains in a teacher's voice. "Even if I wanted to be mayor of this podunk town, how would that look?" Spreading their arm wide, they recite a slogan in a campy announcer's voice: "SONNY BRUCKMANN JR: THE ONLY ONE WHO SURVIVED!" Lowering their arm once more, they give you a disapproving look. "Doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?"

Well YOU wouldn't vote for them...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5140554
Okay, you huff, but what about the cult? You, Boris, and those other family members must know a thing or two about, like, rituals and stuff!

"First of all--all that knowledge means JACK if TIBIUS is destroyed." Your host retorts. "No one can ask them for anything if they cease to exist... I don't know what you intend to do at the end of all this, Stanley, but I won't rest until that bony freak is put out of commission... permanently, preferably. He's bad for business."

Alright, you shrug, you can sympathize with that!

"Secondly, and more importantly," Sonny continues, "I already know what TIBIUS is capable of--I see it every day in the mirror when I wake up in the morning." As if you needed a reminder, Sonny points their remaining fingers at their missing limbs. "That coupled with his recent power play to take over the world has effectively killed any lingering desire to deal with him... Not that I had much to begin with."

Great, you grunt, but can BORIS say the same thing? He's pretty darn evil!

"Given the gravity of the situation, I've discussed the situation with him myself on several occasions," Sonny frowns, "and while I certainly don't trust the man, I have no reason to believe he feels any differently about the cult than I do. After all," they pause, "they were the ones who killed his mother."

You freeze up. Hold on, you stammer, Boris' mom is gone?

"She has been." Nods your boss, "It happened several years ago--one of those 'Missing Person' cases where she got lost in the redwoods according to the local papers." Their frown deepens. "Easy for those to be buried in paperwork when you've got powerful people on your side, yes?"

Well uh, you mutter, still reeling from the possibility that something bad actually happened to your ETERNAL FOE, that's uh... that's a BUMMER.

"Yes," Sonny sighs, "Yes it is. And while I doubt any of this information will fully convince you, I hope it'll at least paint a picture of what's at stake here." Narrowing their eye at you, your host looks at you expectantly. "So think, Stanley: is there anyone you know who might stand to gain something from getting rid of us all?"

>I STILL THINK IT'S YOU, TO BE HONEST!
>IT'S GOTTA BE BORIS!
>WHAT ABOUT CURT? HE'S KINDA SUSPICIOUS!
>THAT FREAK BEA MIGHT BE UP TO SOMETHING!
>THERE IS SOMEONE ON YOUR TEAM WHO MIGHT BE FISHY (WHO?)
>BLUMENKRANTZ? DUDE SEEMS PRETTY TIGHTLY WOUND!
>WHAT ABOUT CHRISTY? THOSE QUIET ONES...
>I'M REALLY NOT SURE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5140555
>I'M REALLY NOT SURE!
Literally the only two I can think of is Denise Venaas and Curt. Bullied her whole life, worked directly with Tim himself, and has the knowledge to take advantage of this whole situation. We also embarrassed her in high school immensely, so that could be a motivation to bring us down. Curt is a jackass. He could have some stupid mystical reason for doing all this. But we hardly know anything about him. And I still don't see either of them really gaining anything of value out of it all.

Gus?

I don't friggin' know.

I still don't like this person. They have some kind of obsession with us and it ain't normal.
>>
>>5140555
>I'M REALLY NOT SURE!
Honestly, Sonny is the most suspicious out of anyone here but even then, we honestly don't really have anything to gain from telling him it plus there's no real dirt we have on him besides the fact he was in the order a long time ago.

Curt would probably kill himself before he'd work with a skeleton as much as I'd like to blame him. Bea does have memory loss so it could MAYBE be her but thats a huge stretch +
thats meta knowledge since we learned that from Boris' POV.

Also we learned about the whole traitor thing in like thread 5-6 so I think we can pretty much clear Denise and all of our party members who joined afterwards.

I really don't suspect Mitzi or Art either and I doubt they'd really be able to help out Tim in a meaningful way and Syb isn't even associated with Good Boy from what I can tell. We honestly just don't know enough to reasonably blame anyone I can think of.
>>
>>5140555
>>I'M REALLY NOT SURE!

Ed's gang joined a while in the game, but could it be him? At least one or more people (I think. I could be wrong.) implied he was in it for more than just skeleton-punching, world-saving clout... although what could he stand to gain really?

>>5140581
Gus is a cryptid or descendant of a cryptid change my mind-- likely bigfoot with how he and his folks keep appearing or disappearing at random
.
>>
>>5140602
Ed would leave us to die in the mines if it was him
>>
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>>5140606
Fair point... Unless he's playing the long game. Then again, Art was with him as a witness when he revived Stan; plus, in a 1-vs-1, Art is guaranteed to win against Ed with his rent-a-cop training.

Scoured the pastebin for any hints as well. Unless there's someone we're overlooking, I can't think of anyone in-particular (especially within Team Stan) that would have a real motivation to betray.
>>
>>5140581
>>5140590
>>5140602
>I HAVEN'T THE FOGGIEST!

Writing!

>>5140602
>implying Gus is a cryptid
Cryptids WISH

>>5140613
Good on you for scouring the pastebin--all the character entries are old as hell and unfinished, to boot! I'll have to whip up some fresh ones eventually...

Also thanks for putting the image of Art and Eddie fighting into my head--that would be a sight to remember!
>>
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This is it, you think–this is the part of the detective show where you dazzle everyone by gathering the cast in the parlor before revealing the culprit! There’s no doubt in your mind that someone has it out for these people–your trip to the DEAN’S VILLA proved that much–but pinning it on someone you know?

No matter how you pair up your various pals, foes, and acquaintances with possible motives, the end result is the same: baloney! Are you missing something? Are they innocent? Even Boris and his dumbass cronies don’t completely add up, and you HATE them!

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Right, your boss wanted an answer. Giving your head a few smacks to kick it into higher gear, you ultimately end up with an aching skull and a whole lotta NOTHING! Groaning in annoyance, you give your head a few more punches just in case–you can crack this!

Well, your skull, maybe. Saving yourself the headache, you answer Sunny with a defeated sigh: you hate to say it, you mutter, but you’re really not sure… your friends might be dicks sometimes, but they don’t have anything to gain from killing ex-cultists… probably.

“Probably… and therein lies the curse, ey, Stan?” Replies your host with a mischievous look in their eye! “But perhaps you’re right–CLEARWATER’S a big town populated by countless residents with motives…” Wheeling around to gaze upwards at the starry ceiling, Sunny punctuates their sentence with a weary sigh. “The noose, Stanley, is TIGHTENING–and someone, somewhere, is waiting to make their move.”

They turn to you with a resigned look in their eyes. “This might be the last time we meet like this for a while. Precautions, and all that.” Wheeling over your way, Sonny gives your shoulder a reassuring pat. “Keep an eye out, Stan–the most fatal strikes tend to be the ones you don’t anticipate.”

With another resounding slap on the shoulder, your boss laughs the tension away as they return to the head of the table! “Seriously though: DO keep an eye out–I’d be inconsolable for MONTHS if you croaked after all this progress!”

Yea, you growl uneasily, you’d be pretty peeved too!

>CONTD.
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>>5140678
Haunted by your employer’s grim advice, your conversation is put on hold by the sound of creaking wheels approaching from the door Christy disappeared through! As if on cue, Blumenkrantz’ personal assistant emerges into the ‘yard’ once more with a cart for the dishes!

“Punctual as always, that one.” Sony remarks as the quiet girl wheels the cart over to their side of the table. “It pains me to say it, Stanley, but this marks the end of our little ‘chew-and-chat’--I’ve got quite a few more appointments lined up for the rest of the day and I have no doubt you’ve got some things to attend to as well!”

Yea, you reply with an emphatic nod, you’ve got shit to do! Placing a TASTEFUL DOILY in front of Sonny, the assistant delicately places a CHOCOLATE MINT on top before moving towards your side of the table!

“Found these on a trip to Europe, you know.” Sonny chirps as they take the mint in hand. “Can’t live without them anymore!”

Placing another doily on the table, Christy moves to take your plate as you notice a curt message written in neat, tiny letters:

“Press button in Maintenance Corridor behind Canteen. Come alone. Act natural.”

You barely have time to read the last sentence before the doily is ruined by a wayward dollop of mashed potatoes! Quickly regaining control of your plate, the red-haired girl gives you a long stare before snatching up the doily and depositing it into the cart.

“Reflexes like a steel trap!” Sonny cheers as Christy places a mint in front of you and makes her exit. “Blumenkrantz will escort you back to the MAIN SHAFT, Stanley, and don’t worry–you’ll be free to work without interruption once you’re back.” Your boss’ eye narrows. “Unless, that is, you WANT to be interrupted…”

Laughing his statement off, your boss glances your way. “Jokes aside, was there anything else you wanted to cover?”

Well…

>YEA! ONE MORE QUESTION (WRITE-IN)!
>NOPE! (HEAD TO YOUR PRIVATE BUNKER WHERE YOUR FRIENDS ARE!)
>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>NYET! (HIT THE MEDICAL WING! CHECK ON DOC!)
>NEIN! (GO TO THE COMMONS–MAYBE YOU CAN DO SOME SHOPPING?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
That's it for tonight, all--should pick things up again THURSDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5140681
>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>>
>>5140681
>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>>
>>5140681
>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>>
>>5140681
>>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>>
>>5140681
>NON! (HURRY TO THE MEETING PLACE!)
>>
Been thinking about the bunny suit we purchased. Where are we gonna store our shit if it doesn't have pockets?
>>
>>5140762
...and the post-fap clarity hits.
>>
>>5140762
>>5140920
Fret not, chums--this is the FUTURE, probably! You can store your items in the suit's EXTREMELY HANDY TIP POCKETS! How innovative!

Either that or you find a pack mule--or a convenient group of impressionable idiots who follow you around. I ain't messing with that 'Carry Capacity' BS, thanks!
>>
>>5141161

So the bunny-suit pockets are pretty much another one of those ‘It just works’ things due to its magic? Excellent…
>>
>>5141215
You guys didn't really think I'd punish you for choosing a goofy option, did you? This is BONES QUEST: it barely has any mechanics as-is!

Also it keeps me from doing more explaining and work, so it's a win-win. The REAL question is when y'all plan on trying it out... and how people are gonna react.

Paulie mentioned it MIGHT work layered under other stuff, but we'll certainly see, won't we?
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>>5140685
>>5140700
>>5140711
>>5140714
>>5140732
>YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER MEETING!

Writing!
>>
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Nope, you squeak almost too eagerly! That SEA WITCH ain’t gonna ice herself!

“HA! It would certainly make our job easier, wouldn’t it?” Sonny laughs before taking another few breaths from their breathing apparatus. “Alright then, Stanley, I suppose I’ll let you go this time… but don’t worry–I’ll be keeping a close eye on you!”

Shooting a finger gun at you with a quiet ‘pew pew’ under their breath, your boss gives you one last smile as you hear the wall behind you start to shift. FINALLY! Heading for the opened passage before they can, like, hug you or something, your stroll quickly turns into a power walk as you see the exit just ahead!

“We’ll be in touch about your PERFORMANCE REVIEW!” Sonny cheers as you return to the lobby. “Take care, Stanley~”

Oh you will, you hiss as a pleasant ‘ding’ ahead of you heralds the arrival of the elevator. Not bothering to wait for the doors to fully open, you slide into the lift like a baseball player and land in a heap next to Blumenkrantz’ bewildered, but still definitely stern form.

“Took yer’ damn time.” He growls, letting loose a cloud of cigar smoke into the cramped space. “Get the hell up–we ain’t payin’ you to lie on the ground.”

Scrambling to your feet, you finally notice your heart pounding the inside of your chest. Man–that was some meeting!

“You get used to it.” Blumenkrantz grunts as the elevator begins its ascent. “Not a lot of people get to meet the boss, though–safer that way.”

You respond with a derisive snort–for them, or for you? You don’t get an answer.

A few awkward moments later, the elevator opens up to the SUSPICIOUSLY-EMPTY CORRIDOR OF DOOM! Performing the same ritual from before on a keypad hidden in the wall, your chaperone inspires you to follow with a monosyllabic grunt!

Keeping pace with the giant’s long, confident strides, a crazy idea comes to mind: you’ve got time to talk before returning to the SECURITY CHECKPOINT where all your shit is–DO YOU TRY TO TALK TO BLUMENKRANTZ?

CHOOSE 1 OF THE FOLLOWING... IF YOU DARE!


>NOPE-YOU DON’T FEEL LIKE BEING CHUCKED THROUGH TITANIUM AGAIN!
>YEA-ASK HIM ABOUT THE BOSS! WHAT’S THEIR BEEF?
>YUP-TELL HIM YOU SAW HIS GRANDDAUGHTER!
>YA-ASK HIM ABOUT THAT NATIONAL GUARD DEPOT!
>AYE-CONFER WITH HIM ABOUT POSSIBLE SECURITY CONCERNS!
>HAI-ASK HIM ABOUT YOU AND YOUR PALS! ARE YOU COOL NOW?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5141630
>>YEA-ASK HIM ABOUT THE BOSS! WHAT’S THEIR BEEF?

See if we can slip a question about traitors and stuff... maybe Blumenkrantz has a suspect in mind.
>>
>>5141660
supporting this
>>
>>5141630
>YA-ASK HIM ABOUT THAT NATIONAL GUARD DEPOT!

Specifically ask him if he knows about any survivors, and if he knows Mitzi's dad or somebody who would have worked with him. Hopefully he'll have a lead.
>>
>>5141660
>>5141678
>THE BOSS AND LEADS!

>>5141771
>THE GUARD DEPOT!

Writing!
>>
>>5141796
Bones is kill.
>>
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Taking a few preemptive steps away from the man who once chucked you like a bowling ball through several titanium doors, you quietly ask him what his thoughts are regarding the boss!

“... They pay me to keep this Manchild Kindergarten secure!” Grunts the Chief of Security as he chews his cigar. Hey, he didn’t slug you yet! This is progress! “And that’s THAT!

IS it, though? Daring to lean in a little closer, you go for broke with a none-too-subtle question: Bruckmann’s REALLY up in arms about that traitor, aren’t th-

Before you can get the rest of your question out, a gloved hand the size of a Great Dane clasps around your face like some kind of alien parasite!

“You wanna see a TRAITOR?!” Roars Blumenkrantz as he yanks you off your feet and into the air! “Take a damn look!”

Thrusting you towards the ceiling, your face presses against what looks like a SECURITY CAMERA hiding inside a recess in the corridor wall! Giving whoever’s monitoring it a demure smile, your fifteen seconds of fame are cut short when your escort yanks you close to his cigar-scented lips!

Sloppy, Parble!” He hisses under his acrid breath! “Even a FREAK like you oughta’ know this whole place is more bugged than a ROACH MOTEL!” Dropping you on the ground like a candy wrapper, Blumenkrantz stomps to the end of the corridor and promptly begins pounding away at the keypad you used when you first entered!

“Now shut the HELL up while I reactivate this system! If your RODENT FACE keeps distracting me it’ll shut-”

And just like that, the already quiet corridor goes even, well, quieter! Sparing a quick glance towards the camera, you get the feeling that it isn’t working… not right now, at least!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5141919
“We’ve got a few seconds, freak, so LISTEN UP!” Commands the Chief as he approaches you! “The only people who know are YOU, ME, BRUCKMANN, CHRISTY, AND BORIS.” He explains in a quiet, but quick tone. Wait, you hiss, this traitor crap is re-

SHUT. UP.” Blumenkrantz growls as he shoves a colossal finger over your lips! “Started off small: one or two supplies going missing here or there, files being accessed at odd hours by anonymous users, spikes in generator usage–things like that.” Leaning closer, the old man’s perpetual frown deepens even more. “I was convinced when I got that little CHRISTMAS PARTY TAPE for you not too long ago–someone’s been altering security footage, Parble, and it’s been going on for TOO LONG.

The tape… Syb suspected it might be altered! Shaking off the chills you get remembering the footage, you instead focus on the present: who does he think it could be?

“Not YOU, unfortunately!” Blumenkrantz sneers! “The culprit Bruckmann’s looking for is either a COMPUTER WIZ, ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO SECURITY FOOTAGE, OR SOMEONE WHO KNOWS THEIR WAY AROUND THE COMPANY. Or…”

Both, you whisper, earning a stern nod from the Chief. Drat!

Before you can ask anything else, the lights in the corridor flicker around you as a faint drone from beyond the walls signals a surge of power! Pulling you over to where the keypad is, Blumenkrantz hoists you into the air by the scruff of your neck just as the lights return to normal!

SO HELP ME GOD, PARBLE, IF YOU TRY THAT CRAP AGAIN I’LL SHOW YOU JUST WHAT KIND OF SECURITY MEASURES WE HAVE IN HERE!” Before you can come up with a response, you’re dragged through the door leading into the austere room you had your phone conversation in before! Spotting another camera in the corner, you bite your lip until the two of you come CRASHING into the SECURITY CHECKPOINT where your belongings were stored!

“H-hello, Sir!” Stammers one of the guards manning the checkpoint! “Th-there was a power surge a few seconds ago an-”

Slapping a plastic tray into the guard’s masked face, Blumenkrantz stomps through the metal detector and shoves you in the ORDER MAGE’S hood-obstructed face! “NERD-

Promptly muttering a few words under his breath, the mage wiggles his fingers at you and scampers away as you feel… MAGICAL again!

MAN, you wanna puke…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5141921
Satisfied with whatever hoodoo the wizard cast on you, Blumenkrantz slams you onto the counter in front of the guard manning the contraband scanner! “WELL!?” He snarls, “Do you have her CRAP or what?!”

Y-YEP!” The guard mutters as she and DAISY THE SECURITY DOG exchange terrified glances! Rapidly placing a series of trays stuffed to the ceiling with your crap on the counter, the guard gives you and Blumenkrantz a nod before ducking behind the nearby machine!

“HERE!” Growls your escort as he sequentially dumps all of the tray’s contents onto you, “Take your shit and let’s get MOVING!” Stuffing the avalanche of junk into your pockets as fast as you can, you feel all life drain from you as the bag holding your NEW PURCHASE tumbles onto the ground! Diving for the still-sealed contents, (thank friggin’ GOD) you immediately retract your thanks when Blumenkrantz picks it up for you!

“Well, well, well…” He remarks, scowling at HAULIE-PAULIE’S logo, “Getting some SHOPPING done during this APOCALYPSE, huh, Parble?”

Y-yea, you shiver, holding your hand out to take it from him, much less tr-traffic! Ha ha!

Blowing cigar smoke in your face, the Chief drops the bag into your hand and shakes his head. “... the hell’s wrong with this generation…

Stowing the bag at the DEEPEST, DARKEST, AND SAFEST PART OF YOUR POCKETS, you snatch up your remaining items and give your escort a nod–all set!

Grunting in response, Blumenkrantz gives DAISY THE SECURITY DOG a singular pat on the head before leading the way out! “If you think I won’t leave you here, Parble, you’re DEAD wrong!”

Giving the security booth operators a lazy salute, you take Blumenkrantz’ lead and make your way back to the elevator leading to ADMIN WING. As the doors close behind you, you find yourself trapped once again in a small space with one of the angriest men you’ve ever met, and hopefully will ever meet.

https://youtu.be/V7dg8vRDM68
Right… and that.

“Shut it, Parble.” Hisses the Chief as he nods along to the beat played through the elevator’s speakers, “It’s GOOD.”

>CONTD.
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>>5141923
As your foot slowly begins to tap along to the muzak, a thought occurs to you–one that prompts you to politely tap Blumenkrantz on the shoulder. Just when you see his eternal scowl relax a bit, it deepens twice as much upon your interruption.

WHAT?

Well, you begin, you don’t get many chances to talk with him, a-

“That’s because I DON’T LIKE YOU.” He explains in a matter-of-fact, but still very hurtful voice. “Get it?”

Yea, you nod, but you have a question for him–a normal one! When your chaperone doesn’t stick his cigar in your eye, you continue: he uh, has he heard from any of his SOLDIER BUDDIES? Maybe from the NATIONAL GUARD DEPOT?

“... anyone worth shit from my platoon died years ago.” Blumenkrantz hisses as he bites deeper into his cigar. “Thanks for the reminder, by the way.” Just when an awkward silence falls over the elevator, he gifts you with a few more words. “No word from the DEPOT either. Knew a guy there named Cooper, though–mouthy sonnovabitch.”

Blowing a fresh plume of cigar smoke into the elevator, Blumenkrantz shakes his head and growls. “Roped me into some shitty Poker game of his every week. Knew he was trying to get me to ‘make friends’, but I didn’t buy it. Still,” he shrugs his massive shoulders, “ended up going every week.”

“Whad’...” Ly groans as if just waking up, “whad’ I mis-”

“Met Muldoon’s father there too. Probably the only reason I kept her lazy ass on payroll. Couple other washed-up jarheads too, but you wouldn’t know ‘em.” Blumenkrantz’ frown deepens. “No one would.”

“Oh.” Mutters your skeleton in a hushed tone, “We’re uh… we’re talkin’ to him.”

A pause.

“How are we not dead yet, Stan?”

SHH!

>CONTD.
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>>5141925
“First thing I did when this shit started was radio Cooper.” Blumenkrantz continues, clearly not hearing you shush your obnoxious bones. “Nothing. Tried for ages, but all I got was goddamn static.” A clump of ash falls from his cigar to the floor. “Learned later on from scouts that the OUTPOST was one of the first places hit. Guess someone told that Lich or whatever that it was important.”

So, you ask in a soft voice, it’s uh… gone?

The Chief of Security nods, not bothering to look your way. “Took them all by surprise. GodDAMN butcher shop according to the reports.”

Blinking in recollection, you take a chance with another follow-up: didn’t BORIS’ TEAM check there for survivors?

“Too good for a guess, Parble–they were one of the first teams who got in.” Replies Blumenkrantz. “The enemy was already dug in when security teams arrived–PONDEROSA and his group managed to sneak in during the firefight.”

Huh, you mutter, so Bea told Mitzi the truth…

“Saw the after reports myself.” Blumenkrantz sighs, rubbing his temples. “Nothing but ghosts there now.”

As another uncomfortable silence settles in, the elevator dings open into the ADMIN WING. Stepping out of the elevator, you take a few steps before you feel a gloved hand clasp around your shoulder!

Preparing for an attack, you flinch just in time to block a-

“Parble.”

Blinking a few times to confirm you aren’t dead, you turn around to find the Chief staring you dead in the eye from behind his aviator shades. Y-yea?

“... Don’t fuck things up out there, got it?”

Speechless, you give him a quick nod.

“Good.” He growls as he releases his hold on you. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5141927
You arrive in the COMMONS not long after. Pushing your way through the crowds of refugees searching for any distraction they can get, you can’t help but notice something, well, off.

“I know it don’t look like it,” Ly remarks as you walk past a crowd of citizens betting on a RAT FIGHT, “but there’s a LOT less people here den’ before!”

He’s right. THE COMMONS might still look like some kind of post-apocalyptic bazaar, but your bones aren’t wrong–the intricate network of corridors, walkways, and alleys seem a lot less crowded than usual. Maybe they’re sleeping somewhere?

“Sure,” Replies your bones as they borrow your shoulders to shrug, “or they left.”

Certainly possible! Passing a bullhorn-wielding man shouting something about ‘Volunteer Scouts’ to a growing group of refugees, you find yourself in front of where you began your ascent to KARAOKE SUPERSTARDOM:THE CANTEEN!

Fighting off the urge to follow your nose to some delicious pub feed, you spot a nondescript door around the back of the establishment leading into the bunker walls.

“What are we doin’ here again?” Ly asks as you try the lock. It’s open! Lingering at the entrance, you summarize the basics for your layabout skeleton: you’re meeting with that OPERATOR, okay? The one on the radio?

“Oohh…” Ly remarks. “And we’re sure dis’ ain’t a trap?”

Well… yea, you mutter! They wanted to talk to you after meeting with the boss! It’s all above board, Ly–you got the directions and everything!

“Yea?” Your bones fire back. “From WHO?

From CHRISTY, you groan, irritation welling up inside your head! The Personal Assistant, remember?

“Yep,” Ly sighs, clearly not enjoying the conversation either. “Da’ broad whose throat got trashed… by US, apparently.”

Right, you nod with a roll of your eyes, THAT one!

Ly sits in silence for a bit before responding. “Well gee, Stan, dat’ makes me feel loads better.”

Well it isn’t all about him, you sneer, but now that he brings it up you’re actually a little worried. Biting your lip as you peek through the door, all that awaits within is a shadowy corridor leading behind the eatery. Hypodermically-speaking, you whisper, what should you do if this was a trap?

“Leave?” Ly suggests in a dry tone. “I can check ahead, too–what were da’ instructions, anyways?”

They wanted you to press a button, you explain, your face blanching as you hear your own words. MAN, that DOES sound sketchy!

“Whatever we do, kid, just be careful.” Ly recommends.

What’s the plan?
>FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS. PRESS THE BUTTON IN THE ALLEY!
>ENTER THE ALLEY AND LET LY SCOUT IT OUT!
>HEAD INSIDE THE CANTEEN–SEE IF ANYTHING STANDS OUT!
>JUST LEAVE–THIS IS A BAD IDEA!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
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>>5141913
I'll certainly feel kill TOMORROW, that's for damn sure! That update took much longer than I expected!

That's all for now, all--pretty damn late on my end. FRIDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST is when I'll be around next! Thanks as always for playing and Happy Friday!
>>
>>5141928
>ENTER THE ALLEY AND LET LY SCOUT IT OUT!
>>
>>5141928
>ENTER THE ALLEY AND LET LY SCOUT IT OUT!

We're technically still alone if it's just our skeleton, I'd say.

>>5141932
And here I was thinking you'd finally kicked the bucket. Go catch some Z's, dude.
>>
>>5141928
>FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS. PRESS THE BUTTON IN THE ALLEY!
>>
>>5141928
>ENTER THE ALLEY AND LET LY SCOUT IT OUT!
>>
>>5141928
>>ENTER THE ALLEY AND LET LY SCOUT IT OUT!
>>
>>5141938
>>5141942
>>5142385
>>5142387
>SCOUT IT OUT!

>>5141945
>DO WHAT THE GODDAMN NOTE SAID, CHRIST!

Not as tired as I thought I'd be! Let's see how things go, shall we? Writing!
>>
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You don’t HAVE to be careful, you whisper as a grin creeps across your face! You’ve got a MAGIC SKELETON!

“Yea!” Ly cheers!



…And uh… you add, you kinda expected him to, y’know, do something by now.

“Wha?” Asks your skeleton in a puzzled tone. “I thought you were just praisin’ me…”

No, you mutter as you facepalm in annoyance, you want him to go check it out! Emerging from your body in his ASTRAL FORM, the ghostly skeleton gives you an irritated look. “Y’know, you could stand ta’ be a little more specific.”

And he could stand to be a little FASTER, you growl! Now go check the damn alley! Giving you the one-finger salute, Ly phases through the door as you lean against the wall next to it. Sending a friendly wave towards a passing group of very confused chefs, it dawns on you that you still look like some kind of SEWER COWGIRL. Maybe a change of clothes is in order?

VENT!” Bursting out of the wall next to you, Ly frantically jabs his finger in the direction of the maintenance passage screaming like a deranged farmer! “VEEEENT!

He’d better VENT a bit if he knows what’s good for him, you snarl as you peek through the unlocked door. What’s his deal, anyways?

“She’s…” Ly pants, wiping some ASTRAL SWEAT from his ASTRAL BROW, “She’s waiting! In a VENT!

Okay, you sigh, slow the crap down: your contact’s in a VENT? And a LADY?

“Yea…” Sputter your bones as their ghostly form returns to the safety of your body, “A big one! Vent, that is…” Turning your head towards a specific part of the wall, Ly continues his report: “There’s a button in there hidden behind an ARENA POSTER. I’m bettin’ someone posted it recently! Followed da’ button’s wires to a VENT in da’ wall–looks like it’ might open if ya’ press it.”

You can’t help but blink at that. Is this bitch aping your VENT TRICKS? Speaking of, who is it anyways? Are they DREAMY?

“Err, not exactly…” Ly mutters. “It’s uh… it’s CHRISTY. Da’ quiet broad.”

Are you flippin’ KIDDING me right now!? You just saw that creep and now she’s trying to sneak up on you? Damn it!

“It uh… it certainly complicates things, don’t it?” Remarks your skeleton as you kick a derelict fry tray across the pavement. “Say, remember when I was talkin’ about dat’ trap-

You do, you scoff, it was, like, three seconds ago!

“... So do ya’ think-”

You don’t know, alright? Point is you’ve gotta do something...

But WHAT?
>FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS!
>LEAVE! THIS IS DICEY!
>DON’T LET HER OUT, BUT DO THAT “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE” THING THEY DO IN THE MOVIES!
>CARVE THROUGH THE VENT OPENING WITH YOUR CLAWS AND SURPRISE HER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5142918
>>DON’T LET HER OUT, BUT DO THAT “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE” THING THEY DO IN THE MOVIES!
>>
>>5142918
>DON’T LET HER OUT, BUT DO THAT “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE” THING THEY DO IN THE MOVIES!
>>
>>5142918
>DON’T LET HER OUT, BUT DO THAT “I KNOW YOU’RE THERE” THING THEY DO IN THE MOVIES!
>>
>>5142931
>>5142941
>>5142942
>YOU KNOW THE ONE!

Writing!
>>
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“Alright,” Ly begins as you cautiously enter the MAINTENANCE PASSAGE, “Let’s be reasonable–if SNEAKY SALLY here was gonna kill us, she wouldn’t do it like dis’, right?”

A warm gust of air rushes past your face like dragon’s breath as you enter the dark, steam-choked tunnel beyond!

“I mean, let’s be real here–if she rigged some kinda trap, she wouldn’t have ta’ hide right next ta’ it to trigger the thing…”

Your feet creep across the pavement like cat’s paws–silent and purposeful. A quick peek around the corner reveals the COVERED VENT your bones warned you about.

“I mean… dat’ would just be amateur! So she must be lookin’ for a brawl, yea? Hold on a sec–where’s her backup?!

Darting across to the other side of the hall, you slowly inch your way closer to the vent along the wall!

“Cripes, is she bankin’ on a surprise attack an’ nothin’ else? I’m startin’ ta’ think this girl’s not as smart as she looks, cupcake… unless she’s SECRETLY TOUGH!

As your skeleton balks at the possibilities, you slide past the poster hastily plastered over the vent’s control switch. Taking a position next to Christy’s hiding place, you take a steadying breath. Here goes…

“She might be a robot–do we got proof she ain’t a robo-woahWOAHWOAH!

Stepping out from cover with your back to the vent and your hands folded in the small of your back, you turn your head a smidge to the side before greeting the girl in a haughty tone:

I know you’re there, Christy. I can sense your presence…

The passage grows eerily quiet. Just when you think Ly might have been mistaken, a metallic voice quietly reverberates from the vent.

“... Spoilsport.”

The sound of a button being pressed from inside the duct heralds the arrival of your contact: the same ponytailed girl that served you lobster less than an hour ago. Deftly sliding out from her hiding place, the personal assistant brushes her business attire free of grime before tapping away at the phone in her hand.

“Falling Glass Can Cut, by the way.” Recites a robotic voice from her phone’s speaker.

You KNOW that, idio-oh… password. Right...

>CONTD.
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>>5143072
Turning to face her, you take a few steps backwards just in case she tries anything funny. For now, however, all she does is watch you expectantly. So, you begin, she’s the one keeping track of your progress, huh?

Christy taps a few buttons before adjusting her glasses. “Guilty. For the record, though, I act as liaison to several other teams of scouts as well.” A wry grin forms on her stoic face. “When I’m not cooking you lobster, that is.”

A fresh pool of saliva forms in your mouth at the sound of the word. Yea, you nod, that stuff was delish, by the way! Your, uh, conference to the chef!

The PA’s finger moves like lightning across the phone’s surface. “Glad you liked it. I forgot to add the glass shards, though.”

You’re just about to dropkick the girl when you realize she’s joking. Ah, you mutter, so she heard everything?

She begins by tapping on her phone, then on her ear. “I can’t talk much, but I’m not deaf.” Slashing away at her device, Christy cocks her head to the side in perfect sync with her phone’s statement. “So yes, I heard it all. Did you enjoy your meeting with Bruckmann?”

HAH! Enjoy’s a weird word for it, you sputter, earning another smile from your contact.

“Yes,” She drones, “‘Eccentric’ doesn’t begin to describe them.”

And what about her, you continue as you jab your finger at her device! When was she gonna tell you she was a PHONE AI?!?

Glancing between you and her cellphone, a pitying look slowly forms on Christy’s face. “How have you stayed alive this long?”

“I’ve been wonderin’ dat’ too!” Ly remarks. Because you’re SUPER, that’s why! Leaning against the side of the passage, you gesture around your charming meeting place. Any reason why she chose this in particular?

“The Canteen recently transferred to another power source.” She explains via robot voice. “Thus this place has no purpose anymore. Not to mention it’s overshadowed by THE LODGE’S most crowded establishment–any potential listeners wouldn’t dare try anything here.” More typing. “In short, it’s safe-”

Before her phone can finish, you see a flash of movement in the steam above! Jerking your head upwards, you scan the shadows for the interloper as Christy furiously types out a message! “Are we compromised?!”

No, you hiss as you continue to peer into the darkness above, you just… you’re pretty sure you saw something.

“What?” The mechanical voice asks.

You bite your lip as anxiety builds in your chest–you think it was… A BAT!
https://youtu.be/wwnqueWqkM0
>CONTD.
>>
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>>5143073
The PA visibly deflates. “Take this seriously, please.”

You ARE serious, you snap! You’re not about to let a BAT get caught in your new hairdo–no frickin’ way! The meeting’s OFF!

Before you can storm off, you hear Christy’s synthesized voice call out from behind you. “I can’t promise I can meet you again any time soon if you leave now. Please, Stan.”

Bereft of all emotion, the text-to-speech message still tugs at your heartstrings a bit… enough to freeze you in place and turn back towards your contact. Fine, you groan, but if that BAT is hungry for blood-

“You wanted to meet, Stanley, so here I am.” The phone recites in a surprisingly snippy tone. “But I’m still on the clock, so hurry, please.”

Touchy! In that case, you shrug, let’s talk about:

>THE TRAITOR! WHAT DOES SHE KNOW?
>HER COWORKERS! ANYTHING WEIRD ABOUT BLUMENKRANTZ OR BRUCKMANN?
>SHE MENTIONED OTHER TEAMS–WHAT ABOUT THEM?
>SHE MUST HEAR A LOT ABOUT THE LODGE–ANYTHING BIG?
>DOES SHE… WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY?
>WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT BATS ANYWAYS? NOT MUCH, YOU BET!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5143074
>>SHE MENTIONED OTHER TEAMS–WHAT ABOUT THEM?
>>SHE MUST HEAR A LOT ABOUT THE LODGE–ANYTHING BIG?
>>DOES SHE… WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY?
>>
Gonna call it here for tonight, all--still kinda pooped from last night and if we're going FULL CONVO mode again I wanna be fresh. Should have more ready around SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5143074
>>SHE MENTIONED OTHER TEAMS–WHAT ABOUT THEM?
>>SHE MUST HEAR A LOT ABOUT THE LODGE–ANYTHING BIG?
>>DOES SHE… WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY?
>>THE TRAITOR! WHAT DOES SHE KNOW?
>>
>>5143077
Dis
>>
>>5143074
>>5143081 +1
>>
>>5143081
+1
>>
>>5143081
>>5143315
>>5143504
>TEAMS
>BIG LODGE NEWS
>TRAITOR
>CHRISTMAS PARTY

>>5143077
>>5143084
>ALL OF THE ABOVE MINUS TRAITOR STUFF

Gonna make me work for it, huh? Here goes something... Writing!
>>
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Not planning on sticking around long enough to get your BLOOD SUCKED, you begin by grilling the PA about those TEAMS she’s managing–you thought you were special! Shrugging her tiny shoulders, she types a response onto her phone.

“Nope.”

Damn!

“The unfortunate truth is that THE LODGE, impressive as it seems, isn’t meant for long-term habitation.” Explains Christy’s phone-err, Christy. “Especially when it’s this crowded.”

Hold on though, you interject, this place is looking a lot less crowded than before! Where’d everyone go, smarty-pants?

“Out.” She drones. “With the complete collapse of local law enforcement and the unsustainable needs this shelter provides, GOOD BOY sponsored several ‘SALVAGE TEAMS’ since the beginning of the incident.”

You frown. Why haven’t you seen any, then?

“Most of the teams were made up of civilians becoming ‘stir-crazy’, so to speak.” The phone replies. “Some of them were just plain crazy. It’s callous, I know, but it killed two birds with one stone: resource strain lessened and the teams that made it back provided materials THE LODGE was lacking.”

Part of you wants to say that’s messed up, but you’ve been having a pretty grand time picking the town apart–it’s kinda like a scavenger hunt when you think about it!

“I’ll take your word for it.” Christy answers with a wary expression. “Unfortunately the VOLUNTEER SCOUT INITIATIVE had an unexpected side-effect.”

Let me guess, you interrupt, MUTANTS.

“No.” The phone drones. “LOOTERS.” Okay, that was your second guess!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5143988
“Several teams are still acting in our interest: resource gathering, scouting, protracted skirmishing,” the PA explains as she scans the tunnel, “but a distressing amount have grown too accustomed to taking anything not nailed down, and with our already-dwindling security forces and a lack of law enforcement, all we can do is sit on our hands.”

Great, you groan, and you thought things would be easier once you took down all those LIEUTENANTS…

“As did we.” Christy responds with an apologetic smile. “For what it’s worth, though, your exploits as well as PONDEROSA’S have inspired many refugees to take action. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.”

BORIS! Shaking your fist in anger, you ask what she’s heard from his group. Are they anywhere as thorough as you are?

“His was one of the first teams to begin scouting.” She responds, running a gloved hand through her red hair. “Though his group managed to rescue quite a few survivors, a lot of them were lost in transit thanks to attacks on the road according to their reports. Clearly more patrolling bodies were required.”

Yea, you huff, it’s a friggin’ warzone out there! Explains why that dope has a friggin’ convoy with him, too!

“Yes, he specifically requested it before the CAPTAIN MENDOZA mission.” She nods. “There were far less civilian casualties after that, as well–a good decision all around.” The conversation pauses while she types in an addendum:

“Come to think of it, he became very interested in your progress after that operation–I believe you might have ‘struck a nerve’ taking down as many LIEUTENANTS as you have, Stanley.”

HA!

>CONTD.
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>>5143992
All this LODGE talk reminds you: she’s practically running the show around here, right? Anything big going on around base? Furrowing her brow in thought, the personal assistant begins furiously typing away at her phone–so much so that the cutesy charms hanging from it start to swing around!

“Lots.” The phone begins. “In an attempt to keep our VOLUNTEER SCOUTS alive a little longer, the ARENA here in the COMMONS has doubled its sparring matches.” Gesturing to the poster covering the vent control button, you hear a derisive sigh escape Christy’s lips. “A waste of clean air, in my opinion, but it helps maintain order around here and keeps the habitual rabble rousers entertained.”

A tiny bell tingles in the back of your head. Well?

The PA raises an eyebrow. “Well what?”

Who’s the CHAMP?

Another sigh. “BEA HENNIG, not that I care.”

“I’d believe it.” Ly remarks following a low whistle. “She certainly looks like she can scrap…”

Yea, you nod, not to mention she’s the size of a friggin’ gorilla!

“There’s the MISSING PEOPLE, of course, but you’ve already heard the details from Bruckmann.” Christy continues. “I assume you’ll be taking care of that?”

Well YEA, you reply, puffing out your chest! Anyone else would screw it up!

“Excellent.” The phone drones as its user gives you a small grin. “I’d tell you to take care, but you probably wouldn’t listen.”

Wha? You ask as you finish adjusting your WOLF CUT.

“Exactly.” Christy replies with a frown. “Before you go anywhere, though, I believe I mentioned that DR. DEVON requested your presence.”

Yea, you nod, up in the MEDICAL WING, right? He looking for another marrow sample or something?

“Not quite.” Christ replies, shaking her head. “A NEW SERUM is ready to be produced similar to the one created from BORIS’ SAMPLE.

Fighting the urge to shake your fist in anger, you instead motion for her to continue.

“He wanted your input before finalizing mass-production.” explains the PA. “Between you and me, I think he’s conflicted. You’ll have to check in with him to find out more.”

That puts a frown on your face. Conflicted?

“Like I said, he can explain more.” Christy replies with a shrug. “If you want my input, however, I would go forward with the mass production–the existing serum already helps quite a bit in staff retention–having a more potent healing reagent would do wonders in the coming battle.”

Right, you nod as you scan the ceiling for any bat-shaped interlopers. Wait, which battle again?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5143994
>Lol totally didn't mean to call Christy 'Christ' or fuck up the formatting like a goddamn gremlin

The PA looks at you like you just sprouted wings. “The FINAL one.” Her phone replies in a surprisingly emotive drone. “Everyone can see which way the wind is blowing, Stanley: there’s one LIEUTENANT left and THE LICH is losing ground.” Pausing to type some more, Christy looks at you with growing unease. “The calm before the storm, it would seem. We aren’t certain if they’re planning something big, but we don’t have the luxury of time to speculate.”

“She’s right…” Ly muses with a voice laced with concern, “TIM’S been awfully quiet considerin’ how many of his goons we’ve carved through…”

Yea, you frown, he has, hasn’t he? Something tells you he isn’t just pouting about it, either!

“Then you’re on the same page as we are.” Christy shrugs. “With a paranormal enemy like this we can’t predict what will happen next–what we are doing, however, is preparing for the worst.”

Alright, you nod, you dig it–what’s that mean, exactly?

“To begin, Bruckman, my grandfather, and the rest of our strategic team are already drafting plans for a FINAL ASSAULT.

You blink–that’s what you’re talkin’ about! The Big Push, huh?

“Exactly.” Replies the mechanical voice. “The prevailing strategy appears to be an all-out ground assault on CITY HALL.” She explains.

You rub your chin in thought–that’s where they have that PORTAL LEADING TO THE FORTRESS, right? Sounds like a suicide mission!

“You’re not wrong.” Christy replies as a frown forms on her face. “It will be bloody, no doubt about that. Unfortunately it’s our best option–our aerial forces are limited at best and completely outmatched by the FORTRESS’ DEFENSES.” Biting her lip, she looks your way after tapping a few more phrases into her phone. “Your assistance will be greatly appreciated when the time comes.”

Damn right it will! Count me in!

“The VOLUNTEER SCOUTS will be recalled to THE LODGE as well, per Bruckmann’s orders.” She continues.

Makes sense.

“And PONDEROSA’S TEAM will assist as well.”

Damn it!

>CONTD.
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>>5144003
Adjusting her glasses, Christy types a few more words into her phone as you simmer on your side of the corridor. Friggin’ Boris...

“Keep in mind that these plans aren’t set in stone yet. If you happen upon a better solution or any tactical advantages we can utilize, don’t hesitate to inform me–we can use all the help we can get…”

You nod–if CLIFF and his guys help out…

“That’s a big ‘if’, Stanley.” Chides the phone as a look of uncertainty creeps onto the personal assistant’s face. “Remember that friendly or not, you’re still dealing with the enemy.”

Yea, yea, you grumble, she sounds like CURT!

“I’m merely working with the information I have.” The phone retorts. “Not everyone has experienced what you have.”

Damn right they haven’t, you boast! You’ll remind everyone of that at the AWARDS CEREMONY! Stifling a grin, Christy taps away at her phone to distract herself.
THE ORDER OF THE WANDERING EYE will be renewing the MAGICAL BARRIER around THE LODGE.” The phone drones. “It’s served us well thus far, but the mages believe a stronger shield will be necessary if THE LICH launches a siege.”

Well sure, you mutter, but they haven’t found out where this place is yet, right? Isn’t it hidden, or whatever?

“According to the Order, yes.” Christy replies, face scrunched up with indecision. “But anyone with a brain could have deduced that humans are hiding somewhere.” She pauses to give you a sideways glance. “And with the possibility of a TRAITOR or TRAITORS in our midst, our location is almost guaranteed to already be known.”

There’s that word again…

>CONTD.
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>>5144004
Sensing your frustration, the PA looks around the corridor before taking a few small steps closer to you. “What have you heard?”

Let’s see, you grumble as you count out what you know on your fingers: there’s almost definitely someone screwing around behind the scenes, people accused you of being one, like, eight or nine times now, whoever’s doing it is probably someone smart and also knows the ins and outs of GOOD BOY, AND your boss is practically holding you at gunpoint for suspects!

Waving your hand in Christy’s face, you end up throwing your hands in the air in annoyance! Seems like the only thing you DON’T know is their damn identity!

A look of concern forms again on the personal assistant’s face as she types a few keys. “Who’s to say there’s only one?

The synthesized words hit you like a truck. Oh GOD DAMN IT! You don't even wanna THINK about that crap!

“It would make sense, wouldn’t it?” She continues. “That would explain why it’s so hard to come up with a sole suspect.”

Yea, you groan, but wouldn’t that make it, like, much riskier for them too? If two people try to get a cookie from the cookie jar, that’s twice the chance of getting their hand caught, right?

Christy responds with a perplexed stare. “A weak metaphor, but I think I get the gist of it. That said, it’d be easier to cover each other’s tracks, wouldn’t it? Especially if they both knew their way around the company.”

Your eyes narrow at her phone’s statements. She’s been thinking this through, hasn’t she?

“It’s my job to be on top of things.” She smiles, running a hand through her ponytail. “That and it’s all Bruckmann and my grandfather talk about anymore.”

You squint even more. What’s her take on those two anyways? She deals with those freaks all day, right?

Christy’s face hardens at your words. “Grandpa is not a freak.”

Yea, you reply with a roll of your eyes, and you’re a GIANT RACCOON!

“Heh heh..”

Don’t even START, Ly!

>CONTD.
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>>5144009
“I have no reason to suspect him.” She replies, brushing you off. “Grandpa is a lot of things, but he’s not a traitor, especially after…” As the phone keeps talking, Christy quickly caresses her throat. “As for Bruckmann…” Wow, she actually put a pause in there. She’s good at this! “‘Eccentric’ doesn’t begin to describe them. I’d put my money on AUTISM, to be honest.”

Yea, you mutter, what’s their deal anyways? They’re like, obsessed with you, and not in a good way!

“Yes,” Christy replies with a disapproving look on her face, “I’m thoroughly aware. Hate to break it to you, but that’s been going on for a long time.”

Wait, you sputter, really? Then why the hell do they have you sweeping up bone dust!? You could have become a GOLD DIGGER ages ago!

“Would you really want that?” The phone asks. Well no, you mutter, not really... Something feels off about that guy… or girl. Or whatever.

“Justified.” The personal assistant replies as they check the hallway once more. “Bruckmann told you they attended a BOARDING SCHOOL, right?”

Yea, you shrug, but that phone call was ages ago! Leaning in close enough for you to smell some kind of WATERMELON SCENT IN HER HAIR, it dawns on you just how tiny she is. And you thought you were short!

“Off the record, Stanley: Bruckmann was sent to a very specific boarding school at a young age: one that specializes in the EMOTIONALLY DISTURBED.

Great, you sigh, your richest suitor is koo-koo. Why do you get all the weirdos? Christy types a few words on her phone, but quickly deletes them. Hey, what was she gonna say!?

“Nothing.” Her phone replies. “Mistype.”

Oh, you grunt, happens to the best of us!

>CONTD.
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>>5144016
So let me get this straight, you segue, still processing the info, your boss is a psycho?

“Moreso than the norm, yes.” The personal assistant replies. “But if it makes you feel better they act that way around everyone.”

Huh, you frown, you feel like you would have noticed them more with their wheelchair and weirdo mask thing–the press would have a field day with that stuff!

“Bruckmann enjoys their privacy.” Christy shrugs. “That compound they breathe supposedly allows limited mobility, but I’ve never seen them rise from their chair…” A pause, then a few taps. “Still, they’ve never required me to perform any caregiver support–I suppose many wheelchair-bound people are remarkably self-sufficient, but still…”

The phone’s synthesized voice trails off there. “I shouldn’t judge. Bruckmann’s been through quite a bit given their family history.”

Yea, you shrug, doesn’t change the fact that they’re creepy, though! So if her gramps is off the table, you muse to yourself, then who else is there?

Frowning, the personal assistant continues typing on her phone. “THE LODGE houses countless high-ranking executives and security personnel–most of which haven’t been ruled out.” Sighing, she types a few more words immediately after. “I’ll admit I had my doubts about PONDEROSA as well, but now I’m not so sure…”

Your heart skips a beat. WHY!?

“They confer quite a bit.” Christy replies. “At first I found it odd, given that he was a janitor.”

EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR, you correct.

“Given that both of their families had ties to the CULT OF TIBIUS, however, I concluded that they just have quite a few similarities.” Shrugs the PA. “And being constantly monitored by both ORDER MEMBERS and GOOD BOY SECURITY, it’d be difficult for him to do anything substantial without anyone noticing.”

Yea, you scoff, but that’s how he GETS you! Staring at you for an uncomfortably long few seconds, Christy returns to her typing.

“It’s flimsy, I know, but I believe we’re dealing with someone in the middle–someone not as high-profile.”

Her prediction earns a frustrated growl from you. How good is this traitor anyways!? It feels like you’ve got nothing! Giving you a sympathetic glance, Christy types a few more words into her phone.

“I’m sorry. I was hoping to be more helpful, but I’m at as much of a loss as you are.”

Yea, well, if you hear anything she’ll be the first to know about it, you growl.

“I’d appreciate that.”

>CONTD.
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>>5144019
As an awkward silence settles in, you feel a faint tingle in your ear. Damn it, you snarl, you KNEW there was A BAT!

As you swipe at the offending party, Christy dodges backwards and reaches for something in her pocket! Before you can strike at your leathery-winged foe, Ly takes hold of your bones and holds you steady!

“Calm down, ya’ moron–I was just tryin’ ta’ get your attention!”

Well it worked, you hiss as you relax a bit, you thought you were getting THE DARK EMBRACE!

Looking at you with a confused expression, the personal assistant returns her hands to where you can see them.

“Will ya’ forget about DA’ BAT already!?” Ly groans. “We all know what dis’ is really about!”

Oh? You ask in a challenging tone, What is it about then, Ly? Care to share with the class?

“Are you well?” Asks Christy’s phone as you begin gnawing on your arm bone! Yrsh, you growl, yrr jsst drrlng wrth shmt prsnbl prbrbms!

“Cut it out, damn it, or I’ll tell NERVOUS SYSTEM ta’ take a break!” Your skeleton howls in pain! Fine, you snap as you release your jaws from your arm, but he’d better explain himself FAST! If THE BAT-

“Cripes, Stan, yer’ just tryin’ ta’ avoid da’ CHRISTMAS PARTY!” Your bones shout, taking you off-guard! “You’ve got da’ girl right here–we’ve gotta bring it up!”

Yea, you mutter, but-

“But nothin’!” Ly interjects. “Who knows when we’ll get a chance like dis’ again? I know it hurts, Stan, but…” he pauses, taking a steadying breath, “...but we’ve gotta talk about it now.”

Biting your lip in protest, it doesn’t take long for you to see things his way. Yea, you sigh as you rub your temples, you guess you do…

“What do we have to do?” Asks the mechanical voice as its user gives you an uncertain glance. Staring her in the eyes, you clench your fists to steady yourself. CHRISTMAS, you respond in a shaky voice. You’ve gotta talk about the party…

As the color drains from her already-pale face, Christy listlessly types a short phrase into her phone.

“Oh.”

Your thoughts exactly...

>CONTD.
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>>5144020
Standing motionless on opposite ends of the maintenance passage, you feel your discomfort rise as neither you nor Christy makes an effort to start things off. Normally you don’t have much trouble speaking your mind, but this?

You’re at a loss for words…

Every now and then Christy’s fingers reach for her phone, but just when you think you’re off the hook, she instead brings them back to her neck. It didn’t dawn on you until now that she’s wearing some kind of high-necked undershirt…

As the minutes keep on dragging, you finally take the proverbial ‘plunge’: echoing Ly’s words, you tell her that this might be the only chance you get to talk about it… even if it does suck…

Bringing a shaky hand to her phone’s surface, Christy taps a few phrases in and quietly presses the ‘SPEAK’ button.

“What about it?”

Damn it.

“Guess we’re leadin’ dis’ one.” Ly whispers as the personal assistant continues to guard her throat. “Be uh… try ta’ be gentle, okay, cupcake?”

Easy for him to say… Clearing your throat, you try to come up with the best way to start the conversation…

CHOOSE ONE:
>YOU’RE PRETTY SURE YOU DIDN’T DO IT!
>IS SHE ABLE TO TALK AT ALL?
>WHAT DOES SHE REMEMBER ABOUT THAT NIGHT?
>YOU’RE SORRY… FOR EVERYTHING.
>YOU UH, YOU GUESS YOU LEFT HER… SPEECHLESS! HA HA…
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5144021
>WHAT DOES SHE REMEMBER ABOUT THAT NIGHT?
>YOU’RE SORRY… FOR EVERYTHING.
>>
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Gonna be busy for the rest of the night in an hour or so, so I'll leave this open until SUNDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST. Until then...

>>5144023
>Says to choose 1 of the choices
>Chooses 2
You guys are just BEGGING for that bat to 'STAN'PIRE you!
>>
>>5144391
ok fine I'll choose one then Bones
>WHAT DOES SHE REMEMBER ABOUT THAT NIGHT?
>>
>>5144396
Atta' boy
>>
>>5144021
>>WHAT DOES SHE REMEMBER ABOUT THAT NIGHT?

Pretty sure Bones is getting damn-tired of us choosing ALL THE OPTIONS
Understandable. Felt lowkey bad being the anon who made that vote.

>>5144391
top kek. Will we glitter or sizzle if we get vamp'd?
>>
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>>5144460
No worries, anon--if I make all the options available then I'm down to write 'em all if need be. Frankly I'm just happy that people want all this stupid info in the first place. The update might take a little longer, but if I want to keep things short and sweet I'll let you know! Thanks for the concern, though--it's appreciated!

>Glitter or Sizzle
Guess you'll find out!
>>
>>5144396
Dis again.
>>
>>5144021
>>5144023 +1
>>
>>5144396
>>5144460
>>5144683
>DO YOU REMEMBER

>>5144851
>ASKING TO BE BITTEN

Writing!
>>
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You’re already standing on the edge of the pool, you think to yourself with a steadying breath, might as well hop in… Cracking your neck as Christy’s hand returns to her throat, you break the silence by asking what she remembers.

She turns away from you and focuses instead on her phone. “It’s funny,” the mechanical voice begins, “when I heard I would be your liaison during this crisis, I was ecstatic.”

You blink. That’s uh, that’s surprising! Erm, what does ‘exstastic’ mean again?

“It meant that if I was lucky, I’d be the first one to know that you died.”

The hallway plunges into silence once more as the personal assistant continues typing. Well then..

“For the longest time, Stanley, I wanted nothing more–as far as I was concerned, my life ended that night, and you were the one who took it from me.”

Your instincts tell you to argue, SHOUT, DO SOMETHING, but your lips remain sealed as she continues typing away.

“I awoke in the hospital a few days after the incident–the doctor told me I’d been out for almost two weeks.” A bitter smile creeps onto her face. “I suppose it’s better than a month. Or years. Or forever.”

You open your mouth to redirect her to the night of, but you’re cut off. “I was told shortly after waking up that there was an issue during the surgical process–I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say they screwed up: they saved my larynx, but didn’t fix it.”

Can, you ask quietly, can she still speak? At all?

Christy nods. “Barely above a whisper,” Replies the phone. “And each syllable feels like a hacksaw raking across my vocal chords.” Another grim smile. “So yes, I guess I can. I generally choose not to, though.”

Makes sense to you…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5145409
Slashing away at her phone, its synthesized voice answers your original question: “I didn’t remember anything of that night until Grandpa came to visit… with Bruckmann.”

Both names make you flinch a bit.

“Not who I’d like ta’ see after wakin’ from a coma…” Ly whispers.

“The latter informed me that I had been assaulted–and that while my damages were exceptionally heinous, the attacker would remain anonymous and would receive no punishment.” The red-haired girl glares at you as her body starts to tremble. “‘Pre-Existing Psychological Conditions’, they told me.”

The words stab your heart like a spear–so you got off free because-

“Because you had no recollection of the events either.” Christy confirms. “Your history of blackouts was confirmed when you were hired by several of your past medical examiners. Bruckmann informed me that their hands were tied.”

So, you mumble, still processing the details, what happened next?

“What usually happens in those situations.” The phone drones. “A downward spiral. Bruckmann informed me that my job was still on the table if I wanted it, then left. As for grandpa…”

You sigh–there probably wasn’t anything left of that hospital room, was there? Christy shakes her head.

“The room was untouched, but he…” She pauses to adjust her glasses. “He must have waited hours for my parents to arrive. I later learned that they were there in the hospital, but they didn’t want anything to do with him. Not then, and not ever.”

You bite your lip in response. Let me guess: they blamed him. Another nod.

“Grandpa was on-duty at that party–he’d been doing it for years.” The phone confirms. “It seems weird, I know, but Grandpa… if he doesn’t have structure or a purpose, well,” more typing. “He’d have broken down ages ago.”

Puzzle pieces fall like raindrops in your head. So when she was assaulted-

“He visited me every day during my recovery.” Christy adds, biting her lip as the phone continues to explain. “It was always the same routine: I’d hear the creak of a door, see him peering through the crack, and then he’d pull up a chair and sit.”

A soft sigh escapes her lips. “And for the rest of the day he’d just sit there–never speaking, never even looking at me.” The girl winces in pain as she swallows a lump in her throat. “My grandpa: the strongest, bravest, most caring man I’d ever known had been defeated.”

Tapping away at her phone, she pauses for a moment before letting it play. “And it was all because of you.”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5145412
It takes you a while to form words again. So, you wearily sigh, you’re the one who made Blumenkrantz into what he is, huh?

“He was always abrasive.” Christy replies with a polite shake of her head. “But once he let you past his defenses, he…” She pauses typing as a small grin forms on her face. “I remember when he came into my hospital room one day with a book. I believe he bought it from the pharmacy.”

The girl sniffs as a nostalgic smile appears. “MASTERING ORIGAMI: JAPANESE PAPERCRAFT. I remember him placing it on my end table and trying his best to read my reaction out of the corner of his eye.” She shakes her head. “I wasn’t really interested, to be honest. But seeing that pleading look in his eyes… that desire to score just ONE victory after everything he had lost…” Christy shrugs. “I just had to try it.”

Pausing her story, the girl reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out an ORIGAMI FROG! Gently placing it on her shoulder, Christy continues typing. “You can imagine how surprised he was when I filled my room with animals.” She explains, puffing out her chest with pride. “I remember him once telling me his family used to raise chickens when he was younger, so I gave him one once I found the right paper.” She frowns. “Not my best work, but I think he liked it.”

And just as quickly as it arrived, Christy’s smile fades. “My parents died shortly after. It was my third day back at work when I got the call: Car accident. They died in transit to the hospital I had just been released from.”

Her face hardens again behind her opaque glasses. “GOOD BOY paid for the funeral and other expenses. They gave me their house in their wills, of course, but I sold it and moved in with Grandpa instead.” Another sigh. “Neither of us wanted to be alone after everything that had happened...”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5145414
Still dumbfounded, you’re almost taken off-guard when Christy stares holes into your face. “I’m telling you all of this, Stanley, to rationalize just how much I HATED you for so long.” Her finger returns to the cellphone with a flurry of slashes. “And why Grandpa STILL hates you.”

You nod as you bite your lip. Yea, you kinda deserve it…

“That’s what I thought too.” Replies the mechanical voice from the phone. “Until recently.”

Blinking in confusion, you raise an eyebrow at your contact. Wait, wha?

“You have to realize, Stanley, that we were comfortable living in the dark.” Christy begins. “Even now I feel phantom pains in my throat, and with things the way they were, why would we bother questioning them?” The girl’s shoulders slump in exhaustion. “The door was closed a long time ago–why bother opening it again?”

Because, you mutter, regaining some of your classic confidence, she wanted to know the truth, right? Your contact responds with a nod.

“My grandpa never got closure with my parents. It tears him apart to this day.” She pauses, then continues typing. “I’ll admit I was apprehensive at first, but once I started talking to you I realized…” Another pause. Well?

“It couldn’t have been you who did this to me.” She concludes. “No way.”

Well, you reply with a growing smile, you are pretty nice once people get to know you!

“Yes,” the phone agrees as Christy gives you a genuine smile, “but you’re also way too stupid to pull something like that off.”

Exactl-HEY! Stifling a near-silent giggle, the personal assistant shakes it off and continues typing. “Being the primary contact for several teams including your own, Stanley, I’ve concluded several things: first, you’re impulsive. Second, you’re not one for long-term planning.”

Okay, you huff, rude.

“Third,” the robotic voice continues as Christy bashfully turns away from you, “you have a good heart, Stan. You’re not the type to mangle someone who didn’t deserve it–even if you black out.”

The conversation falls into an awkward lull. Adjusting her glasses, Christy leads the charge forward with her robotic voice: “So when I noticed grandpa snooping around in the security archives, I decided to do some homework of my own.” She pauses to give you a smile. “Thank you, Stan, for pushing me into the light.”

You’re uh, you mutter, you’re welcome?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5145417
So what exactly did she find out? The assistant’s confident grin swiftly fades. “Not much, unfortunately.” Her phone replies. “But the clues are there–you just need to look at them properly.” Reaching into her pocket again, the personal assistant hands you a folded sheet of paper with a list of… well, a lot of dates and times on them. Feeling your head spin just looking at it, you instead focus back onto Christy. What are these?

“Timestamps.” She replies as she taps the paper with her pointer finger. “Unauthorized access to GOOD BOY systems for the past few years.”

“Lemme get dis’ straight:” Ly interjects, “Dis’ ‘TRAITOR crap mighta’ began before all of dis’ started?”

Echoing your skeleton’s sentiments, you get a nod in response. “Unfortunately so.” The phone drones. “It’s a long shot, of course, and a selfish one, but just indulge me for a moment: what if this TRAITOR has been behind everything?”

EVERYTHING? It almost sounds too crazy to be true, even by this quest’s standards! THE CHRISTMAS PARTY, DOCTORED SECURITY FOOTAGE,

THIS SKELETON INCIDENT.” Suggests the phone, causing your heart to beat like a drum. Now that she mentions it, you muse, how the hell did TIM’S parts get to the factory anyways?

“An’ how did he know where ta’ target first?” Ly adds. “DA’ GUARD DEPOT, DA POLICE…

Christy’s brow is furrowed by the time you turn your attention back to her. “This theory supports several ideas, Stanley: whoever the culprit is has been in close contact with GOOD BOY for a while now.” Explains the mechanical voice. “It also suggests that they’re familiar with our security, or at least know their way around computers.”

Yea, you nod, her grandpa told you the same thing. Recoiling from your words, Christy frantically slashes away at her phone! “Most importantly: whoever’s responsible is DANGEROUS!” Tapping her finger on her phone with a serious expression, she copies and pastes the word a few more times for emphasis. “DANGEROUS! DANGEROUS! DANGEROUS!”

You get it, okay? Besides, you shrug, they haven’t killed you yet–what’s the big deal?

“The big deal is that we, along with several people we care about, are standing inside a gilded coffin riddled with OSHA violations, unstable people, and countless security measures that would make it very easy to make someone’s death look like an accident.” The phone lectures!

Pointing her finger at the vent behind her, Christy taps a few more words into her device. “Did you know this whole facility is rigged to pump tear gas at the drop of a hat? Imagine what someone could do with the right clearance!”

Big deal, you scoff–what’s tear gas gonna do anyways? Make you CWY? BOO HOO!

The hard look Christy gives you tells you she doesn’t get it.

>CONTD.
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>>5145419
Rummaging through her pockets again, the personal assistant hands you a NEW WALKIE-TALKIE! Wait a minute, you grunt, you already have one of these!

“Not like this, you don’t.” Replies the phone while Christy wiggles her own identical radio in your face. “These go to 11!

11, huh? Inspecting the channel knob closer, you confirm that yes, it does reach 11! Nifty!

“I thought so as well.” Christy replies with a confident grin. “That channel and these radios are unmonitored by GOOD BOY or anyone else, to my knowledge.”

Flicking your finger against the radio, you frown. How the hell can she be sure of that? The girl matches your frown. “I’ve been monitoring it in what little spare time I have for the past few days for activity–there was none.” Works for you!

Stuffing your new item into your INVENTORY, you find Christy giving you an apologetic look.

“We can use that channel to discuss more… private topics assuming I’m not busy.”

You blink. Private topics? L-l-like-

“No.” Interjects the mechanical voice. “Privacy is at a premium right now, Stanley, and you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.” Christy looks at you expectantly. “I’ll be relying on you to keep fighting, Stanley–but be vigilant. Someone clearly has it in for both of us.”

Yea, you reply with your voice trailing off into the corridor, you’ll keep doin’ what you do best… Glancing at one of several watches hidden under her office shirt’s sleeve, your contact gives you an encouraging nod. “I know you will. I also know that lingering here much longer will make us both look suspicious.” She types a few more words before cocking her head to the side. “Anything else we should discuss?”

INVENTORY UPDATED! CHECK THE PASTEBIN!

Is there?
>WHAT’S SHE GONNA DO WHILE YOU’RE OUT?
>NOPE, YOU SHOULD GO!
>APOLOGIZE! YOU STILL KINDA RUINED THINGS FOR HER!
>IS THERE ANYONE ELSE SHE TRUSTS?
>DOES SHE HAVE DIRT ON YOUR FRIEND (WHO?)?
>GIVE HER A HUG! IT UH… IT MIGHT BE THE RIGHT THING TO DO?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5145421
Gonna be busy for the rest of the day around 3PM PST, so I'll try to do an update or two before then! That said, if things are slow today (as they sometimes are on Sunday), I'll check back in on MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Apologies for the, like, eighty updates of pure WORD VOMIT.
>>
>>5145421
>IS THERE ANYONE ELSE SHE TRUSTS?
>>
>>5145421
>IS THERE ANYONE ELSE SHE TRUSTS?

Honestly I can't see Boris as the traitor UNLESS Tim promised to bring his mother back to life. He is a jerk but doesn't strike me as evil
>>
>>5145421
>>IS THERE ANYONE ELSE SHE TRUSTS?
>>DOES SHE HAVE DIRT ON YOUR FRIEND (Mitzi)
As much as I like her, she's got some of the closest ties to good boy out of any of our team.
>>
>>5145421
>IS THERE ANYONE ELSE SHE TRUSTS?
>>
>>5145421
>DOES SHE HAVE DIRT ON YOUR FRIEND (MITZI?)?

Gonna be a shitstorm-and-a-half if Mitzi's the traitor.
>>
>>5145570
>DOES SHE HAVE DIRT ON YOUR FRIEND (MITZI)
adding this to my vote. I honestly doubt its her but it is possible so may as well try and get info while we can.
>>
>>5145421
>DOES SHE HAVE DIRT ON YOUR FRIENDS MITZI AND DENISE?

Fellas, I'm proud of you all. I was thinking Mitzi or Denise, but I'm glad to see you all came to a similar conclusion while reading.

We know Mitzi was at the Christmas party. That isn't good for her. But I don't know if she's a computer genius. She also knows about the National Guard given her dad's a soldier. But why would she have had it targeted if she knew her dad was there? I don't think she would intentionally kill him or her sister. So if she's the traitor, they must be alive somewhere (unless she is extremely sociopathic).

I lean more towards Denise. She's clever, intelligent, directly worked with TIM since the beginning of this, and knows a lot about the company and its resources. The only thing she lacks is a motive. This also scares me as a possibility because we have her that material the skeletons were gonna dump in the water supply. Jesus fuck, dude. If she's the traitor we made a big mistake doing that. I say we hold our own little interrogation when we go see her in her cell.
>>
>>5145972
>>5145421

Switching to both Mitzi and Denise
>>
>>5145972
changing to asking about both.
>>
>>5145434
>>5145505
>ANYONE TO TRUST?

>>5145531
>TRUST + MITZI

>>5145972
>>5145979
>>5146160
>TRUSTS + MITZI + DENISE!

Writing! Hope I tallied this stuff correctly...
>>
>>5146948
I like how lately Bones keeps having to write these full length novels on each update. It kinda cracks me up.
>>
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Yea, you nod as you send a conspiratorial glance her way. Before you part ways, you begin, is there anyone in particular she still trusts? Anyone you can rely on once the crap hits the fan?

Your words barely leave your lips before Christy’s phone drones an answer: “GRANDPA.” Oh, you reply in a tone that betrays your complete and utter lack of enthusiasm, err… anyone else?

The personal assistant responds with a quiet ‘hmph’ as she types out a longer answer. “You asked me who I trust. Grandpa would do anything to protect the people of this company, especially after what happened before.”

Yea, but…

“I trust you too if it makes you feel any better.” The phone adds. “We wouldn’t be having this talk otherwise.” D’awww, she’s gonna make you blush! Before the praise can settle in, however, a thought rushes through your head–hold on, you sputter, what about Bruckmann? Or BORIS?!

“What about them?” She retorts, cocking her head to the side again. Well, you shrug, she works pretty closely with THE BIG CHEESE–any thoughts?

Christy frowns at your query before typing out a fresh response. “That’s exactly why I don’t trust them.” Explains her phone. “Bruckmann’s eccentricity makes them difficult to read, even for me. Based on the sheer capital and manpower they’ve put into this operation I’d assume they’d be exempt, but I don’t trust them like Grandpa, that’s for sure.”

Understandable, you mutter, especially after that creepy lobster story they told!

“I wish they’d stop laughing at that.” Drones the phone as its user lets loose a sigh. “As for Boris, I don’t have a definite answer to that, either.” Uncertainty creeps around Christy’s normally inscrutable face. “He’s friendly, charismatic, and selfless to a fault, but I can’t help but feel uneasy around him in person.” Her eyebrow twitches. “Like I’m standing next to an armed mousetrap.”

You get used to ‘em after getting your fingers snapped in them a few times, you reply. But now that she mentions it, you continue, tapping your finger on your cheek in thought, you get a similar feeling too!

“Really?” Replies the phone.

Yea! Like you wanna puke your guts out, you snap! That guy’s BAD NEWS!

“At any rate, that’s who I trust.” Christy shrugs. “And I suggest you keep your list short too, Stanley.”

Yea, you mutter, about that…

>CONTD.
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>>5147071
The red-haired girl’s finger dances across her phone before you can even finish! “If you’re asking me to trust your friends, I can’t.” But- “You know them better than I do–I’m afraid you’ll have to make those judgments on your own.”

Hey, you judge your friends all the time, you counter!

Ad nauseum.” Ly mumbles. Bless you! But, you continue, she wouldn’t happen to have any, like, dirt on your pals, would she? Nothing pervy! The assistant raises an eyebrow over her glasses before tapping away at her phone! Waiting for a response, you’re taken off-guard when Christy sidles up next to you and shoves her phone in your face revealing a list of files each marked with the names of your crew members! Creepy, much?

Shooting you a withering glance, the girl impatiently pokes her finger at the files again! Guess she’s got the goods, huh? Releasing a deep breath, you start with a name you’d rather not suspect… MULDOON, MITZI.

Officer Mitzi Muldoon:’ reads the text file within, ‘Certified with STANDARD GOOD BOY SECURITY READINESS TRAINING–exceptional marks in ENDURANCE and COVERT ACTIONS.’ Scrolling downwards past an older photo of Mitzi reading a familiar magazine, you continue to skim Christy’s notes for anything damning:

GOOD BOY EMPLOYEE for roughly three years. No University degree. HR Notes: A habitual slacker on the clock–has been repeatedly reprimanded for unacceptable workplace behavior including misuse of company property (READ: VENDING MACHINES), napping during shifts, and spending work hours socializing with fellow security personnel and watching shows on her phone. Called in for review for several self-proclaimed ‘OFFICE SHENANIGANS’ gone wrong before UNDEAD INCIDENT. Will most-likely be let go after current situation is resolved.

Uncooperative at times, detached, sarcastic, and even outright defiant in certain cases. Refused to check in with MEDICAL WING psychological personnel multiple times pending the reported deaths of her FATHER and SISTER.’


“Well it’s informative, ta’ say da’ least…” Ly remarks as you close the file. “But does it make Mitz TRAITOR MATERIAL?

You scoff–if they let everyone go for petty crap like this, GOOD BOY wouldn’t have anyone left! Fascists! Shaking your head in disapproval, you click a few times on the name of another fellow employee… VENAAS, DENISE.

“Dis’ oughta be good…” Muses your skeleton as the file opens to a wall of text. It’d better be!

>CONTD.
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>>5147075
The summary begins with what you already know: ‘A Gordian Knot of nerves. Talented Chess Player for school Chess Club until dropping out of the competitive scene (ADDENDUM: PARBLE? Investigate further.). Graduated early with honors from CLEARWATER HIGH and studied MEDICAL SCIENCE at CLEARWATER U, applied for research position at GOOD BOY–was fast-tracked to REDWOOD R&D due to qualifications and respect for company discretion and rules.BOOOORING!

Scrolling further, you know you’ve hit the good stuff when you spot the sentence ‘Unnerving amounts of sweat. Calls in sick constantly with different excuses (NOTABLE MENTIONS PER COMPANY LOGS: Excessive numbness, trouble breathing, sick cat (ADDENDUM: no pets on file), hostile intent from mailman, tummy ache).’ What a WUSS!

Described by coworkers as ‘ghoulish’, ‘jittery’, and ‘generally tiresome to deal with’. Spends breaks in lab sectors with minimal foot traffic: restrooms, maintenance passages, dark corners of the REACTOR SECTOR.

Reported to have an attachment to her projects bordering on unstable, namely PROJECT TALBOT. Lab personnel report treating subject like quote: ‘some kind of freaky child’ and ‘a family member or some weird shit like that’.

Parents unavailable for comment on mental/emotional stability–both currently residing in GREENLAND researching ICE CORES. Received flippant responses from her several past medical examiners.

Currently detained after being caught with DEADLY CHEMICALS in SECURITY STATION PARKING GARAGE. Tazed into submission after failing to provide an adequate explanation to arresting officers.

PERSONAL NOTE: One bad day away from a shooting spree/suicide.


Man, you groan, even reading about that UBER NERD is annoying!

>CONTD.
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>>5147076
Exiting out of the file before it makes you any more irritated, you respond to Christy’s stare with an exaggerated shrug! You dunno, okay!? Your friends kinda suck sometimes, but it’s not like they’re evil, you know? Art’s pretty close, you say as an aside, but he’s not ‘ACTIVELY SABOTAGE THE COMPANY’ evil! And Talbot’s just stupid!

Swiping her phone back, the personal assistant types a quick response: “Then take those files for what they are: collections of random data.” She raises a brow. “As important as this situation may be, this is a big accusation to make-don’t rush if you aren’t certain.”

“She’s right,” Ly adds as you digest her words, “You saw how things went with Syb an’ Mitz back in da’ woods–-I doubt an ‘oops’ would smooth things over…”

Adding an appropriate entry in your TO-DO LIST to shut everyone up, you lean over to catch another peek at Christy’s phone–does she have a file on YOU, too?

Reeling away from you with a panicked look on her face, the assistant frantically shakes her head! Sounds like a yes to you! Taking a few steps towards her small, retreating frame, your efforts are interrupted by the sound of wings fluttering from above!

https://youtu.be/S7WWmhgRgDo
A BAT swoops down from the cover of shadows with a fearsome ‘SKREEEE!

You FRIGGIN’ KNEW IT!

ROLL 1d100+5 TO PROTECT YA’ NECK! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! Don’t forget to include how you DODGE and/or COUNTER the FLAPPING FIEND!
>>
>>5147066
Yea, I mainly chalk it up to allergies, tiredness, and the metric fuckton of stuff around the house that pops up RIGHT when I say I'll update. Sorry for the wait times lately!
>>
Apologies for all the spam posts, but I'm probably gonna call it here tonight--work was a bitch and I still have more stuff to do before heading to bed. Should be back around TUESDAY 6-7PM PST! Good luck with those rolls!
>>
Rolled 88 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5147084
I think we're all patient enough to understand that posting on a Mongolian basketweaving forum isn't the foremost priority in life.

>>5147080
Rollan
>>
>>5147104
>>5147080
Smack it with our mop like a housewife that saw a mouse.
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>5147080

Nat!1? You mean BAT1!
>>
Rolled 56 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5147080
>>5147105 +1
>>
>>5147080
>Stop it with a stylish counterpunch
>>
>>5147104
>>5147115
>>5147221
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

BAT'S ALL, FOLKS! Writing!
>>
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Matching the BAT’S battlecry with an ear-rending screech of your own, you stand your ground as the beastly bloodsucker dives for your neck! Like a ronin in a samurai flick, you deftly DRAW, THWACK, AND SHEATHE your GOO MOP in one fluid motion, sending the murderous mammal soaring into the wall with an uncerimonious SPLAT!

Watching your foe slide to the ground with a defeated squeak, you brush the dust from your gloved hands and give its crumpled form a haughty nod–better luck next time, Drac!
https://youtu.be/sE9D5MxbyBQ
“Nicely done.” Praises the phone’s mechanical voice. “I guess the BURNER SQUADS will have to do another sweep of the tunnels.”

Turning to face your contact once more, you find the personal assistant heading towards the opposite end of the tunnel. Hey, you interject, where the heck does she think she’s going?!

“Back to work.” Her device replies as she looks at you from over her shoulder. “You should too–people will be wondering where you went. Best of luck, Stanley–the end is almost in sight.”

Before you can stop her, the girl fades into the dark end of the corridor like a shadow leaving you standing in the passage like a chump. Idly scratching the back of your neck, you feel your skeleton borrow your shoulders for a shrug.

“Welp,” Ly mutters, “Dat’ went pretty well.”

Yea, you nod, it kinda did! And here you were thinking you were gonna get ambushed or somet-

CRASH!

With classic terrible timing, the door you entered from SLAMS open heralding the arrival of two giggling newcomers: the first clad in standard GOOD BOY SECURITY ARMOR, the second clad in…

Wait a sec…

SsSsSH! Someone will hear us!” Giggles a girl in the CANTEEN’S waitress garb as the guard pecks her neck through his mask filter!

“C’mon, Rube-you’re off the clock!” Purrs her, uh, friend. “Now get on the c-”

The conversation is put on indefinite hiatus when the two finally notice your spellbound form standing motionless in the middle of the corridor. As the three of you fall into an impromptu staring contest, you’re the first to break the ice: she’s uh… Isn’t she that WAITRESS you had? During KARAOKE?

“I uh…” She sputters, glancing downwards at her uniform with a look of defeat, “Y-yea… Hello again, Stan…”

“Wait, you’re STAN?” Mutters the guard as he stealthily releases Ruby from his clutches. “I erm… y’know, you really shouldn’t be hanging out in these tunnels… they’re uh…” He coughs into his glove. “Off-limits.”

“Ya’ don’t say…” Ly remarks.

>CONTD.
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>>5148276
Just when things can’t get any weirder, Ruby opens her trembling mouth. “Y-you erm… you aren’t gonna t-tell BORIS about this… r-right?”

You blink in confusion–she’s not, like, boning him or anything, right?

“Tactful as always, cupcake.”

Your question clearly causes the waitress some discomfort as her eyes balloon to the size of saucers! “W-WH-WHA?! N-N-NO, B-BUT…

BORIS?” Sputters her beau through his mask, “Y-you mean that CHOSEN ONE guy with the amazing hair!?” The guard’s composure somehow slips even more as the gravity of the situation settles in. “H-he’s not gonna kick my butt, right?”

“NO!” Ruby groans as she sends pleading looks to both you and her uh… date. “L-look, you aren’t going to tell anyone, right sweetheart? R-remember all the fries and drinks I served you?”

Yea, you nod as a wolfish grin slowly forms on your face, you do!

Several minutes later, you find yourself back in the COMMONS polishing off a fresh basket of french fries! Punting the empty tray into a nearby trash bin, you contemplate your next move. Two meetings down, you mutter, and lots more to go!

Where do you head next?
>THE MEDICAL WING! GOTTA CHECK IN WITH DOC DEVON!
>THE BAZAAR–SEE IF THAT VENT ORPHAN SANDY IS STILL ALIVE!
>YOUR PRIVATE BUNKER–YOU CAN GATHER UP A FRIEND OR TWO BEFORE YOUR NEXT MOVE!
>THE SECURITY WING–TIME TO PICK UP DENISE…
>THE ARENA–MIGHT BE WORTH SEEING WHAT ALL THE HUBBUB IS ABOUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5148281
>>THE MEDICAL WING! GOTTA CHECK IN WITH DOC DEVON!
>>
>>5148281
>THE MEDICAL WING! GOTTA CHECK IN WITH DOC DEVON!
>>
>>5148308
>>5148380
>THE DOCTOR IS IN?

Writing!
>>
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With your hunger sated for the time being, you turn your attention towards more pressing matters: specifically the ones in the direction of the BIG GLOWING MEDICAL CROSS flickering in the hazy light of the COMMONS.

“Goin’ in for a check-up, huh?” Ly remarks as you start working your way through the maze of stalls, refugees, and hawkers! That’s right! As you push past a rugged-looking group of survivors clad in a mishmash of scrap, security armor, and sports padding, you can’t help but feel like you’re back at BLADES OF ZAMARKA– if only you could run back to Syb’s to grab your dress!

“Seems kinda funny though, don’t it?” Asks your bones as you sidestep a guitarist playing a mournful tune to some folks resting around a bonfire. “GOOD BOY started out by protectin’ these folks, but now they’re runnin’ around town like some kinda adventurers or somethin’...”

Can you blame ‘em? If you were cooped up in this cement coffin for the past few days you’d probably go stir-crazy too! Stepping over a sleeping vagrant onto an escalator, you give your skeleton a shrug–nothing wrong with blowing off some steam, right?

“Sure, until TIM and his remainin’ cronies follow da’ trail back here!” Ly retorts! “Or everyone gets killed tryin’ ta’ play hero!”

Would it kill him to relax every now and then? You pretty much did the same thing when the shit hit the fan and look at you now! Disembarking at the top of the escalator, you manage to find an entryway into the MEDICAL WING that doesn’t have a line of concert-like proportions outside! Pushing your way through the doors, it quickly dawns on you just how bad things are…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5148626
While the air outside was nothing special, the interior of the MEDICAL WING feels like an entirely different ecosystem. A thick haze of body heat and the stench of various chemicals and medicines slaps you in the face like a wet towel the minute you poke your head through the door causing you to sweat even more underneath your TRAPPER FUR COAT! You REALLY oughta take a bath after all this…

“COMIN’ THROUGH!”

The warning comes just in time for you to be shoved aside by a duo of haggard-looking paramedics as they carry a bullet-riddled security goon on an equally disheveled-looking stretcher. Pushing through the veritable sea of people lining up to speak to one of the few nurses manning the front desk, they inadvertently give you the perfect path through the lobby!

As you walk with purpose past the skeleton crew watching the front, no one bats an eyelash at you when you take the opportunity to head up to where DR.DEVON’S LAB is! Situated at the end of a grimy corridor lit only by a handful of flickering lights, the massive door leading into the doctor’s lab is a welcome respite from the chaos of the rest of the hospital!

“Hope da’ doc’s alright…” Ly mutters as you rap your knuckles on the entrance. “Haven’t seen a venue dis’ crowded since dat’ HERALDS concert we went to a few years back…”

Yea, you frown as you wait for a response from inside, whatever happened to those guys? Before you can muse on it further, the door in front of you flies open revealing a ghoulish scrubbed figure brandishing a RED-STAINED SCALPEL at you!

STANLEY PARBLE!” Hisses the gaunt, pale-faced man looming in the doorway, “Did you REALLY think you could ESCAPE me??

You respond to the doc’s greeting with a smile and a wave–hiya, doc! Still messing with those berries of his, huh? Glancing between you and the blade in his hand, the old man sheepishly hides it behind his back.

YES…” He hisses, “It would appear I’ve been caught… RED-HANDED!” Holding the door open for you, Dr. Devon fills his frighteningly-spartan lab with a low chuckle. “Circumstances being what they are, nothing quite CALMS MY NERVES like TEARING SOMETHING APART and MASHING IT INTO A JELLY… Which reminds me…

Slinking over to his desk, the doctor rummages around for a moment before producing a piece of BERRY JAM TOAST on a tasteful plate! Presenting it to you, he gives you a grin through his surgical mask and motions for you to sit in the OPERATION CHAIR dominating the center of his lab.

Please SIT, my dear… I’ve been DYING to PICK your BRAIN…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5148633
Yea, you nod as you hop into the seat, that’s what you’ve been hearing! Something about that MARROW SERUM, right?

INDEED…” Devon croaks as he nods his head. “But where are my manners? We can discuss that in due time–what, pray tell, can I do for you?

Well…
>HE’S A DOC, RIGHT? CAN HE GIVE YOU A CHECKUP JUST IN CASE?
>YOU HAVE A QUESTION ABOUT ONE OF YOUR PALS–MEDICALLY SPEAKING (WHO?)
>NOPE, LET’S TALK ABOUT THAT SERUM NOW!
>HOW’S HE DOING DURING ALL THIS?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5148637
That's all for tonight, people--should have more WEDNESDAY AROUND THE USUAL 6-7PM PST, though! Hope to see you there!
>>
>>5148637
>HOW’S HE DOING DURING ALL THIS?
Awful lot of folks reaching for the great beyond out there. You'd've thought he'd be out there with them.
>>
>>5148637
>>HOW’S HE DOING DURING ALL THIS?
>>
>>5148637
>HE’S A DOC, RIGHT? CAN HE GIVE YOU A CHECKUP JUST IN CASE?
>>
>>5148637
>HOW’S HE DOING DURING ALL THIS?
Seems like a stressful time to be a doctor, burn-out is a very real thing to be worried about.
>>
>>5148637
>HOW’S HE DOING DURING ALL THIS?
>>
>>5148670
>>5148715
>>5149432
>>5149469
>HOW YOU DOOOON

>>5148916
>GIMME HEALTHCARE

Writing!
>>
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He can start by answering a question or two, you snarl, biting into the BERRY JAM TOAST! He’s a sawbones, right? Why is he making toast in his lab when there’s a bunch of chumps waiting to be patched up downstairs? Thanks, by the way.

I WAS downstairs…” Devon hisses as he looks at you in confusion. “But when I saw you coming I just HAD to HUNT YOU DOWN…

Yea right, you groan with your signature eye roll! He expects you to believe he just snuck up ahead of you? Taking another bite of your toast, you look up to find he’s completely disappeared!

The SHADOWS and I… are OLD FRIENDS…” Croaks a familiar voice from over your shoulder! “With a CONDITION like mine it PAYS to be IGNORED at times…” Turning to face the doctor behind you, you frown at his dumb little prank–Owl Binder or not, if he sneaks up on you again like that you’re gonna slug him!

Albino, cupcake.

Bless you! Anyways, you segue, continuing to gnaw away at your toast, how’s he holding up, anyways? Feels like this shithole got ten times crazier since you sprung Art out! Taking a seat in front of you, the doctor responds with a weary sigh.

It is…” He wheezes, “Disheartening… watching so many lives slip through our fingers…” Turning his yellow eyes skyward, Devon mournfully shakes his head from side to side. “I always thought I’d grow NUMB to witnessing DEATH, but alas… watching the reaper take his toll chills me to my bones with the same intensity it had when I was a young man… perhaps more so now…” The doctor stares at the ceiling a moment longer before sending a forced smile your way through his surgical mask. “This place, my dear, is NOT LONG for this WORLD…”

Hold on, you frown, what’s that supposed to mean? Aren’t you winning this fight?

The battles are won, but the cost is too high…” Devon replies with a shrug of his hunched shoulders. “Though you elude death’s jaws time and time again, hundreds of soldiers take your place–even with volunteers, GOOD BOY’S ARMY is dwindling by the day…

Bullshit, you mutter with a defiant shake of your head! This place is packed to the brim with Rent-A-Cops! Is he seriously suggesting the company’s losing?

If bodies continue to pile high like they are now, then yes…” Croaks the doctor with disheartening sincerity in his voice. “They ask us to hide the corpses, but it won’t be long before we BLEED OUT…” Just when the atmosphere can’t get any more tense, you spot a faint twinkle in Devon’s bloodshot eye. “Which is why I was DYING to speak with you, Stanley… This way, please…

Begrudgingly vacating your seat, you follow your host as he hobbles towards the STORAGE CLOSET at the back of his lab. If this is more berry stuff, you swear…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5149865
Matching his lurching gait, you continue the conversation where you left it–was he telling the truth about them hiding bodies?! Where the hell would they even put ‘em?

In preparation for a PLAGUE or RADIATION, this hospital was provided with a state-of-the-art MORGUE…” The doctor explains like some kind of grim tour guide. “Ample storage, cremation and cryogenics tools, and plenty of security in case the dead… RISE!

You can’t help but flinch at that last part. Is that how these skeletons work? Zombie rules? Devon shakes his head as the two of you stop in front of the closet door. “Thankfully NOT… contrary to those above us, the dead in this facility have been VERY DOCIL-

Sticking the key into the closet door’s lock, Devon barely turns it before the portal BURSTS open and sends you both tumbling backwards! As you watch your half-eaten toast slide across the lab floor, your heart skips a beat when a small blur darts by and grabs the scraps! What the HELL?!
https://youtu.be/MVagm39bnTQ
STANLEY!” The doctor shouts at the scampering shadow! WHAT?! “Not YOU, my dear!” Devon hisses with wide eyes! “The… EXPERIMENT!

Before you can interrogate him further, your fellow Stanley lunges at you with a feral hiss! Scuttling backwards, you extend your BONE CLAWS at your attacker, causing it to preemptively leap away! Landing on four fuzzy black feet, the experiment bares a maw of needle-like teeth at you as it glares at you from behind a domino mask! Wait a second… Shifting your withering gaze from the animal to the doctor, you ask him what you already know: is his experiment a RACCOON? Named STANLEY?!

It…” He mutters in an apologetic tone, “Was all I had to work with… we didn’t have any RATS, so I paid some KIDS to find animals in the VENTS…

Sure, you snarl, but did he have to name it Stanley? Pointing a finger in the beast’s direction, you barely yank it away in time to avoid being bitten!

... It seemed APPROPRIATE..

Like HELL it did! In any case, it looks like you’ve got a FIGHT on your hands! Rising to your feet, you square up into a combat stance as STANLEY THE RACCOON begins circling you menacingly!

What do?

>DISTRACT IT WITH FOOD! THERE’S PLENTY OF JAM AROUND!
>JUST SHOOT THE DAMN THING!
>SLICE N’ DICE WITH YOUR BONE CLAWS!
>SMACK IT WITH YOUR MOP! KNOCK IT’S LIGHTS OUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5149866
>>SMACK IT WITH YOUR MOP! KNOCK IT’S LIGHTS OUT!
>>
>>5149866
>>DISTRACT IT WITH FOOD! THERE’S PLENTY OF JAM AROUND!
Food and Alcohol, if this thing is anything like us then those should grab his attention.
>>
>>5149878
>SMACK 'EM!

>>5149893
>DISTRACTION!

You know what? These might actually work together, huh? Let's do it this way:

ROLL ME 2d100--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

The FIRST DICE will be the DISTRACTION ROLL! If you do well on this one, I'll add a +10 BONE-US to the next roll: THE THWACK ROLL!

Don't forget to describe the following if you have any bright ideas:
1) What FOOD/DRINK/DISTRACTIONS will you use?
2) How and where do you smack this cheap imitation?
>>
Rolled 31, 62 = 93 (2d100)

>>5149913
1) Jam and toast
2) Scoop toss into any kind of net or cage, or even some clothing or linens. I sense kinship in this creature. It would be foolish to hurt it.
>>
Rolled 41, 62 = 103 (2d100)

>>5149913
>>5149935
support
>>
Rolled 64, 1 = 65 (2d100)

>>5149913
>>
>>5150084
Bro
>>
>>5150084
the racoon is too powerful
>>
>>5149935
>I sense kinship in this creature. It would be foolish to hurt it.
Also, this.
>>
>>5150084
F
>>
Running a little late tonight--will try to get an update in later tonight around 7-8PST!
>>
Sorry, all, but I'm gonna have to push this back to Friday around the usual time--today became a lot busier than I expected and I'm dead tired. Sorry for the bait and switch--should have a swell NAT 1 consequence for you next time!
>>
>>5150424
>>5150472
>>5150646
>>5150679

I'm sorry, I failed you brothers
>>
>>5149935
>>5149941
>>5150084
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>BAIT = 64!
>SMACK = 1! AAAAIIIEE!

>>5150965
Don't be sad--it's been a while since I last killed Art! Writing!
>>
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As the two of you exchange hisses, an idea comes to your mind as you spot the TOASTER standing tall amongst the mountain of clutter on Dr. Devon's desk! That's IT!

"What is?" Ly asks as he presses against the inside of your face with interest! "Da' TOASTER?" STANLEY THE RACCOON gnashes its teeth at you menacingly before your skeleton gets the picture! "I get it--we distract dis' thing wit' TOAST, right? Great idea, kid!"

Well no, you mutter, still glaring daggers at the ill-tempered and twitchy trash panda sharing your name, you were just gonna grab it and BASH this rodent's lights out! Emerging from the closet with some kind of metal pole crackling with ELECTRICITY, Devon brandishes his new toy at your opponent before turning your way.

"It's NOT a RODENT, actually-"

Not now, doc!, you've got a PLAN! Jabbing your thumb at the toaster, you kindly ask him to whip you up some BERRY JAM TOAST-- this little critter's probably getting hungry!

"... I JUST gave you some, tho-"

Not YOU, dang it, STANLEY! Err, THE RACCOON! Damn it! Sensing the conversation drifting towards them, the raccoon's eyes narrow further as they try to discern your intent. Hobbling over to the desk, Devon swiftly begins putting a fresh piece of toast together as you retrieve your GOO MOP from your pockets! Recoiling at your new weapon, STANLEY retreats to the shadows amidst a cluster of storage boxes packed away in the corner! Doc, you ask, not taking your eyes away from the shadows, how's the grub coming?

"You CAN'T rush... PERFECTION!" He croaks as electricity arcs from his desk! As a fresh piece of bread launches out of the toaster, Dr. Devon intercepts it with a scalpel coated in jam! Catching it on a clean plate, he frisbees it over to you with a confident wink!

"Order... UP!"

Alright, settle down, geez. You barely snatch the plate out of the air when a long, fuzzy nose pokes out from the boxes--its owner peering at the fresh meal with murderous intent! Oh yea, you nod, they're HANGRY alright!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5151686
Bait now firmly in hand, you prep STEP 2 of your devious plan: cautiously tiptoeing closer to the beast's new lair, you keep your mop close in hand as the raccoon licks its toothy chops from the safety of the boxes!

"Easy, cupcake," Ly warns, "dis' one's fast..."

Yea, you hiss, you noticed! Placing the plate in the center of the room near the operating chair, you back off a bit and wait. Sure enough, the beast cautiously emerges from its hiding spot moments later--its glowing green eyes locked on you as it approaches the bait! Standing still, you watch as the woodland critter begins tearing into the toast with ravenous gusto! It's almost kinda cute, you think, when it isn't trying to bite you, that is!

"Reminds me of you eatin' pizza." Ly remarks. Cool it, dick! Sometimes you just don't want to get stuff all over your hands! It's EFFICIENT! Completely absorbed by their meal, the raccoon fails to notice you slowly approaching with your MOP at your side.

"So," your bones begin, "What's next?"

You were planning on bashing this thing into a new FUR HAT, but as you step closer you're taken off-guard by a quick glance from STANLEY'S saucer-wide eyes! Shoveling the toast into their mouth like some kind of cat, something about the experiment tugs one of your heartstrings...

"Stan?" Ly asks, clearly sensing your murderous intent fading, "What's wrong now?"

You're not sure, you whisper, but you can't help but feel... connected to this critter, somehow...

"HA! Dat's rich!" Ly snorts as you spot a BEATEN-UP CAGE inside the closet out of the corner of your eye! "First we track down yer' great, great, grandpa, now we've found da' PROTO-STAN!"

You make a mental note to hurt your bones later as you mentally line up the trajectory you'll need to knock the furball into the cage. It's risky, you conclude, but come on--it hasn't done anything you wouldn't do to a stranger! As if hearing your thoughts, the raccoon takes a break from scarfing down the food to give you a look bordering on... gratefulness?

Sorry, fuzzball, you mutter through your smile, but you've gotta go home now... waiting for the raccoon to go back to feeding, you punctuate your sentence with a golf swing of your mop!

THWACK!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5151688
You hit your mark, but STANLEY doesn't go flying! Blinking in confusion, you look downwards as you fail to pull your mop back for another swing! With lips still caked in crumbs and jam, the raccoon glares at your betrayal as it holds the other end of your mop in an outstretched claw!

Uh-oh.

Before you can let go, the world starts bouncing up and down as your opponent starts smashing you against the floor with your own mop! HEY! BONK! DOC! BIFF! WHAT BOOM! IS CLOBBER! THIS CRUNCH! THING!?

"My LATEST EXPERIMENT! Devon replies from behind the safety of his desk! "I gave that BEAST a DOSE of your BLOOD SERUM! The subject is FAR STRONGER, FASTER, and DURABLE than a NORMAL RACCOON!"

YOU! SLAP! DON'T ZAP! SAY! ZOCKO! Thoroughly pulverized against the floor, you're powerless to react when STANLEY flings you like a pancake off the MOP and into Dr. Devon's OPERATING CHAIR! Landing in a dazed heap, things go from BAD to WORSE when the chair's restraints clasp around your wrists and ankles with a definitive SNAP! Uh, DOC?!

"Apologies!" He replies, peeking over his desk with a worried expression, "I KNEW I shouldn't have bought the CHEAP CHAIR..."

You'll help him look for a receipt to return later, you snarl! Right now you've got bigger problems: approaching you slowly like an executioner, STANLEY THE RACCOON sends a toothy grin your way as they brandish their claws! Wh-what are they gonna do with THOSE!?

"Whatever it is,” Ly stammers as your opponent performs what you assume to be the raccoon version of villainous laughter, “We’d better not let dem’ do it!”

He’s right–you’re nothing without your good looks! And if that thing goes to town with its claws, well…

Best not to think about it! What’s the plan?

>TRY TO BREAK FREE OF YOUR BONDS BEFORE THEY CAN MANGLE YA!
>HAVE LY TRY POSSESSING THE RACCOON! (ONCE PER DAY!)
>HAVE DOC RUN INTERFERENCE WITH THAT ZAPPER!
>LASER BLAST! DON’T NEED HANDS OR FEET FOR THAT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5151690
>TRY TO BREAK FREE OF YOUR BONDS BEFORE THEY CAN MANGLE YA!
Alright, lets have another try
>>
>>5151690
>>TRY TO BREAK FREE OF YOUR BONDS BEFORE THEY CAN MANGLE YA!
>>
>>5151690
>TRY TO BREAK FREE OF YOUR BONDS BEFORE THEY CAN MANGLE YA!
>>
>>5151694
>>5151709
>>5151723
>I WANT TO BREAK FREE!

ROLL ME 1d100+5 DUE TO THIS STRESSFUL SITUATION TO BREAK FREE OF THE BONDS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

If you DO escape, do you COUNTER-ATTACK? Write in a strat if you have one in particular--who knows? Maybe you'll be able to pull it off!
>>
Rolled 54 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5151727
Shuriken toss a jammed piece of toast into its mouth
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5151727
>>
Rolled 2 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5151727
>>
>>5151756

so close. that raccoon could've just killed Art again
>>
>>5151756
JFC dude. Imagine our next game over being to a goddamn raccoon.
>>
>>5151749
>>5151753
>>5151756
>HIGHEST ROLL: 73!

Writing!

>>5151757
If only Art knew just how many bullets he's dodged...

>>5151761
The fight is still young!
>>
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Isn’t it obvious? You’ll make a BREAK for it! Break this damn chair, that is! Harnessing the power of your IRRITATION, you yank your arms and legs against the restraints with a feral roar! This isn’t the first time you’ve broken out of cuffs before, of course, but to your fuzzy counterpart’s horror and your surprise, the chair releases you almost immediately, causing you to glance at your hands in awe! This… this is POWER!

“Sure… dat’ or da’ clamps weren’t locked.” Ly remarks, deflating your confidence almost immediately. The raccoon, however, is still worried–brandishing your own mop in your direction, STANLEY hisses menacingly as if daring you to approach!

Yea RIGHT! Snapping your fingers in the doc’s direction, your fingers close around a piece of BERRY TOAST in mid-flight! Before its KEEN ANIMAL SENSES can discern what’s happening, the raccoon gets a surprise meal when you spike the toast directly into its agape mouth! Tumbling backwards from the sheer force, the dazed beast wrestles with its priorities: chew, or fight?

Luckily for you, HOLD ONTO THE MOP wasn’t on the table! Lying on the ground a few feet away from the beast, your trusty GOODBOYNIUM GOO-COVERED MOP waits to be picked up! If there was time for a counter attack, this is it!

The move is yours–what do?

>SCOOP THE RACCOON UP AND CHUCK IT IN THE CAGE!
>MOP AN’ BOP! SMACK THIS GOOBER INTO THE CAGE!
>SLASH’EM WITH SOME CLAWS OF YOUR OWN–THIS CREEP’S GONE TOO FAR!
>JUST SHOOT THEM–YOU COULD USE A NEW HAT! (LASER EYE? RIFLE? ROCKET LAUNCHER? SHOTGUN?)
>HAVE LY POSSESS THEM (ONCE PER DAY!)
>TRY DIPLOMACY! ANIMALS LOVE YOU!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5151841
>>TRY DIPLOMACY! ANIMALS LOVE YOU!

We are of the same species. It is time to make friendship.
>>
>>5151841
>TRY DIPLOMACY! ANIMALS LOVE YOU!
Have another piece of toast ready and put the broom away. We're not beyond achieving its love yet.
>>
>>5151841
>TRY DIPLOMACY! ANIMALS LOVE YOU!
We share the same blood after all. Well, a serum's worth at least.
>>
>>5151870
>>5151875
>>5151877
>GIVE PEACE A CHANCE!

Last update of the night, folks--got some plans on Saturday, too, so I can't promise the next update until SATURDAY 3-4PM PST! Might be able to get something out sooner, but we'll see where the day takes us!

As for you brave anons, ROLL ME 1d100+5! You smell like CINNAMON and HAVE FOOD, but you also TOTALLY TRIED TO SMACK THIS RACCOON WITH A MOP, SO THAT'LL EVEN THINGS OUT A TEENSY BIT!

I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS--Write in any specific strats/words you wanna use here. I'll also assume that we'll be doing what >>5151875 suggests.

Seeya tomorrow and thanks as always for playing!
>>
Rolled 20 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5151950
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5151950
>>
Rolled 63 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5151950
I'm used to shooting raccoons, not befriending them.
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5151950
If the vote wasn't locked in I would have switched from brining the raccoon to the cage to bringing the cage to the raccoon
>>
>>5151964
>>5151967
>>5152018
>HIGHEST ROLL: 89!

Writing!

>>5152019
Not a bad idea, anon! I guess it's totally in Stan's character to go with the harder, more obtuse methods though, huh?
>>
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Yes, you think as you loom over the superpowered critter, this would be the time for a counter attack… but as you stare at the raccoon’s toast-stuffed face, you can’t help but feel your anger subside somewhat. So much so, in fact, that as you snap for another piece of BERRY TOAST from the Doc, you slowly drop to your knees in front of your opponent!

“Errr… cupcake?” Ly asks in an uncertain tone, “What are we doin’?”

Being HUMAN, damn it, you hiss as you retract your GOO MOP before returning it to your pocket at a glacier’s pace! Watching you intently, STANLEY THE RACCOON chews the food still shoved into its mouth, not entirely sure how to proceed. Your answer comes in the form of yet ANOTHER piece of toast, this one whizzing through the air an-OW, FUCK!

APOLOGIES!” hisses Devon from the safety of his desk! Yea, he’ll owe you some, alright! Rubbing the fresh sore spot on your head, you retrieve the piece of BERRY TOAST fresh from the toaster and hold it aloft for the beast to see! Still midway through its current feast, the raccoon’s green eyes nonetheless light up in recognition–yes, you nod, there’s more where that came from!

As per the norm, however, there’s a catch–as the woodland creature takes a few probing steps towards you, you bring the treat above your shoulder… and hold it there! Balking at your challenge, you can see the small gears turning in STANLEY THE RACCOON’S head–what’s it gonna be, huh? FEAST… or FIGHT!?

Time slows to a crawl as the two of you stay frozen in place, neither you nor the raccoon daring to make the first move! Just when you spot Dr. Devon creeping towards the cage in the closet, however, the silence is broken by the soft plodding of padded feet along the floor!

Still watching you like a very fuzzy hawk, STANLEY makes their way over to you with every part of their body ready to spring into action! Approaching with a warning hiss, the experiment pauses in front of you for a moment before circling around the back! Bracing yourself for a mauling, you can’t help but blink in surprise a bit when you feel tiny claws digging into the back of your FUR COAT as their owner climbs to your shoulder! Frozen, you feel a pair of tiny hands gently take the treat from you followed by the sound of chewing in your ear!

BATTLE WON!
https://youtu.be/6mudEn-dRGg

StuPENDOUS!” Devon hisses as the now-placated raccoon kicks your COONSKIN HAT to the floor in between chews. Riiiight, you mutter as you stuff the hat into your INVENTORY, that thing probably didn’t make a good first impression, did it?

“What gave ya’ dat’ idea?” Ly asks with the usual sarcasm. You don’t answer.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5152982
You NEVER CEASE to IMPRESS, STANLEY…” Devon remarks as he rummages through the now-vacated closet. “If it were ME in your position, well…” His voice takes a darker turn. “I might have… LOST CONTROL….

Yea, well, you grin as you go to pet your passenger, maybe this little squirt’s more human than you thought! Earning a nip on the hand for your troubles, you abandon the effort.

“Yea,” Ly remarks, “Or maybe yer’ more RACCOON than ya’ thought!” COOL IT!

Well don’t get TOO ATTACHED…” The Doc warns as he rifles through the veritable mountain of crap in storage, “You see, that EXPERIMENT is part of what I’ve been meaning to… PICK YOUR BRAIN about!

Riiight, you nod, exchanging a wary glance with the raccoon riding your shoulder, he’s talking about the SERUM, right? Still sore from STANLEY’S mop counterattack, you raise an eyebrow at the man rummaging through the closet. What’s the big deal, then? He said it himself: it makes people STRONGER, FASTER, TOUGHER, AND SMARTER, right?

I never mentioned SMARTER…” Devon replies as the sound of him scavenging stops. “But never mind that… for with this BOON comes a TERRIFYING CURSE!

You can almost hear thunder cracking overhead. What the hell is he talking about? You’ve been runnin’ with the marrow for days now and you’re just peachy! You hear Ly prepare to say something, but he stops himself. That’s RIGHT!

Your serum, as you are now well-aware, is FAR MORE POTENT than the one synthesized from MR. PONDEROSA’S MARROW.

HAH! Your sudden outburst earns an annoyed hiss from your new pal. Touchy, much?

But after running several tests, I came across some… DISTRESSING DETAILS…” Devon continues, earning a groan from both you AND STANLEY! Can he get to the point, you ask, motioning to speed things up! Your friends are probably hogging your POOL right now… and definitely talking smack!

But of course!” The Doc nods as he emerges with a GLOWING BLUE VIAL ENCASED IN A TRANSPARENT BOX!THIS, my dear, is the TEMPLATE SAMPLE. With this, we can MASS PRODUCE your SERUM and administer it to those on DEATH’S DOOR!

Okay, you nod, you kinda dig that. You’ll have to come up with a snappy brand name, of course, and work out how you’ll be getting royalties after all this, but that’ll come later! What’s the catch?

The CATCH is THIS:” Replies Devon as he approaches with a serious look on his face. “Your MARROW is positively TEEMING with WILD MAGIC… a substance as CHAOTIC and UNPREDICTABLE as its name suggests…

Big deal, you shrug, drugs always have a bazillion side-effects!

But wait… THERE’S MORE!

Great...

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5152997
Holding the canister out for you and your shoulder passenger to see, the Doctor points a finger at some of the, er… particles floating around in the blue fluid. “I bet you’re DYING to know what those are…

You respond with a shrug–nutrients?

These, my dear, are MARROW CLUSTERS that are exponentially growing…” Devon replies. “And their owner, if my research and THE ORDER’S is correct, is the very MONSTER who instigated this whole mess!

Uninterested, the trash panda on your shoulder continues to snack while you prod the canister with your finger. TIM’S MARROW, huh? It makes sense given what Syb mentioned before…

I poured over the information THE ORDER has on NECROMANCY…” Dr. Devon explains with a twinkle in his eye. “Rather FASCINATING BEDTIME READING, but I digress… The MARROW you ingest from each LIEUTENANT was once a part of THE LICH–and while you steal his power-

You also put a piece of him inside you, you finish with a shiver. MAN, that sounds way creepier when you put it like that! EEEUCK!

There’s MORE!” The Doc adds. “Observing your sample for a few days, I noticed a distinct REACTION between your WILD MAGIC-SATURATED MARROW and that of THE LICH’S…” Reaching into his lab coat, Devon pulls out a handful of photographs of the same canister and holds them out for you to see. Dated with the last few days, it doesn’t take a scientist to notice what’s going on…

TIM’S MARROW CHUNKS… They’re GROWIN’!” Ly exclaims! Relaying his conclusion to the rest of the class, the Doc responds with a grave nod.

With all the remaining UNDEAD to harvest, your MARROW would save many lives… but I fear this panacea could come with FEARSOME consequences!

“Hate ta’ say it, cupcake, but he ain’t wrong…” Ly adds in a concerned tone. “In da’ short-term things might be fine, but who knows what could happen?”

Hence my dilemma…” Devon sighs. “It is a TERRIBLE BURDEN, Stanley, but I fear YOU and YOU ALONE could make it: Do we MASS PRODUCE this TERRIBLE MEDICINE, or CAST IT ASIDE?” Motioning towards the closet, Dr. Devon looks at you with renewed confidence. “You’ve proven yourself to be a DECISIVE YOUNG LADY, and I have no greater trust in anyone else in this matter… ” Peering past him as you try to ignore the loud crunching on your shoulder, you spot a CONTAINER similar to the one in Devon’s hands.

Whatever you choose, I have ONE SAMPLE for you to administer as you see fit… perhaps one of your friends could use it well…

What say thee?
>MAKE IT! SIDE EFFECTS WON’T MATTER IF TIM’S DESTROYED FIRST!
>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
>CAN YOU, LIKE, RADIO HIM LATER? TOUGH CALL!
>LY, WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5153007
>>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
If the chunks are growing that much over just a few days, I doubt we'll be able to take Tim out before the side effects kick in. Worst case scenario, Tim might even grow stronger from it being overused.
The wild magic effects also are likely to be really bad in the long term and there is basically zero guarantee taking out Tim would do anything to prevent them from happening.
>>
Got some plans for the rest of the evening and the morning tomorrow, so I'm gonna call it for tonight! Should have more for y'all around SUNDAY 3-4PM PST! Hopefully things will be less busy around then!
>>
>>5153007
>>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
This is screaming unintended consequences. Last thing we need is Tim pulling a converted human army out of his ass in two threads.
>>
>>5153007
>>>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
>>
>>5153007
>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
This stuff is screaming consequences at us. It shouldn't be allowed to persist. This is the reason why the FDA exists. Because injecting folks with a ton of wonder serum that works miracles in the moment is asking for trouble down the line.
>>
>>5153007
>DESTROY IT! YOU DON’T NEED ANY MORE SURPRISES!
In different circumstances I would have suggested more experiments to try and make it safer but with all the risks involved getting rid of it is for the best
>>
>>5153369
>>5153531
>>5153533
>>5153974
>>5154056
>DESTROY IT!

Writing!
>>
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You give the CURATIVE SERUM synthesized from your own MAGICAL BONE MARROW a long, hard stare. Marketing possibilities aside, the proof is in the pudding, here, and the pudding is rotten. Maybe the last few days have made you a bit more paranoid than usual, but when you finally do speak up, your answer is obvious:

DESTROY IT.

A WISE choice, my dear… some of the GREATEST MONSTERS were created from the BEST INTENTIONS…” Punctuating his sentence with a reaffirming nod, The Doc lifts the SERUM into the light, bathing the lab in an otherworldly BLUE HUE!

So uh, you interrupt, brushing some of your passenger’s crumbs off your shoulder, how’s he gonna get rid of it? Is there a machine, or-

Your answer comes in the form of Devon SPIKING the canister onto the floor, showering the whole lab in bits of glass and goo! Before you or your fuzzy counterpart can properly react, The Doc whips out a SCIENTIFIC FLAMETHROWER from within his lab coat and sets the debris ablaze! As your legacy burns like an overcooked souffle, Devon gives you a serene look as a fire alarm heralds the activation of the emergency sprinklers from overhead!

“Dat’ can’t be standard lab procedure…” Ly remarks as the doctor gives the pile a few stomps from his boot. Echoing his sentiments, you receive a noncommittal shrug from Devon’s hunched shoulders.

Be not troubled by SETBACKS, my dear–science is a GRUELING, UPHILL CLIMB… and ONE SHORTCUT could very well be YOUR LAST!

He certainly has a way with words, doesn’t he? Hobbling into the closet, Devon promptly returns with a SMALL BLUE VIAL containing the same substance still sizzling into oblivion at your feet! “THIS is all that remains of my research… Do with it what you will–I know you’ll make the right choice…

Neat! Stuffing the MARROW SERUM VIAL into your INVENTORY, you give it a reassuring pat for good measure. You’ll take good care of ‘er!

MARVELOUS…” The Doctor sighs in relief. “Then my mind is at EASE… But was there anything ELSE to discuss while you’re here?

You blink. Is there?

>NOPE! GOOD LUCK OUT THERE, DOC!
>YOU’VE GOTTA HAVE NOTES AND STUFF TOO, RIGHT? BURN THAT TOO!
>SO UH… WHAT’CHA GONNA DO WITH THIS RACCOON?
>CAN I ACTUALLY GET A QUICK CHECK-UP WHILE I’M HERE?
>WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON A POSSIBLE ‘TRAITOR’?
>YOU TOOK MARROW FROM BORIS–ANY THOUGHTS ON THAT JERK?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5154879
>>SO UH… WHAT’CHA GONNA DO WITH THIS RACCOON?
We are not leaving without our spirit animal. Just think, we can release her into vents for infiltration.
>>
>>5154879
>>>SO UH… WHAT’CHA GONNA DO WITH THIS RACCOON?
>>
>>5154879
>SO UH… WHAT’CHA GONNA DO WITH THIS RACCOON?
>>
>>5154889
>>5154895
>>5154897
>YOU GONNA EAT THAT?

Writing!
>>
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Yea, you nod, earning another irritated hiss from the critter perched on your shoulder, what was he planning to do with this? Jabbing a thumb at THE EXPERIMENT, you quickly retract your finger when a pair of needle-like jaws clamp around it! OW, DICK!

Well…” Devon remarks, raising an eyebrow at your new friend, “I WAS planning to DISSECT it over the next few days to study changes in the MARROW you so-graciously provided…

You’re not sure STANLEY knows what ‘DISSECT’ means, but the wide-eyed look they give The Doc tells you that they definitely don’t like the sound of it!

BUT considering that all further research is now officially TERMINATED,” He continues, gesturing to the mess on the floor, “I suppose I’ll have to DEAL with this EXPERIMENT somehow…

Giving the creature a pleasant smile through his mask, Devon aims the business end of his SCIENTIFIC FLAMETHROWER in the startled creature’s direction! “You might want to MOVE, Stanley–SPECIMEN DISPOSAL is a MESSY BUSINESS… and tends to STAIN…

With an uncanny replication of a human SCREAM, the raccoon skitters behind your head for protection! Or are they holding you HOSTAGE!? Damn it, you KNEW you should have taken that online class on RACCOONESE! I-Is the FLAMETHROWER really necessary, you ask, feeling tiny, quaking claws digging into your hair!

STANDARD PROTOCOL, my dear–I don’t make the rules. Would you mind placing the LAB WASTE on the ground next to the WASTE BASKET? I’ll have an INTERN DISPOSE of it later…

Okay, you know Doc is cool and all, AND you know this furry bastard totally tried to kill you a minute ago, but something about him wanting to barbeque this forest critter rubs you the wro-wait, they have interns emptying trash now? Are you gonna have a job after all this!?

“Focus, cupcake.” Ly mutters, turning your attention back to the trembling trash panda currently burying itself in your hair. “Dis’ thing’s got TIM’S MARROW in it–don’t forget dat’...”

Of course you won’t forget whatever it was he just said! The choice is clear here: you’ve gotta USE YOUR WORDS!

But what do you SAY!?
>WHY NOT JUST RELEASE IT BACK INTO THE WILD?
>MIND IF I HOLD ONTO IT? MIGHT NEED A NAME CHANGE, THOUGH (NAME IDEAS?)
>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE!
>YOU MIND DISPOSING OF IT IN A NICER WAY?
>SURE, HERE YA’ GO!
>RUN SCREAMING FROM THE LAB WITH YOUR NEW PET IN TOW!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5155048
Whoops, forgot the trip in the last post! Gonna call this for tonight--got a big day at work tomorrow. Will pick things up again MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! Thanks again for playing and hope you have a good Monday!

... as good as Mondays can get, anyways..
>>
>>5155048
>>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE!
>>
>>5155048
>>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE
>>
>>5155048
>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE!
>>
>>5155048
>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE!
Inb4 the raccoon becomes an instrument of Tim down the line.
>>
>>5155048
>CAN I KEEP STANLEY? TO KEEP AN EYE ON ‘EM, OF COURSE!
>>
>>5155266
>>5155303
>>5155364
>>5155911
>>5156207
>MASCOT CHARACTER

Writing!

>>5155911
Ha ha ha, quite the imagination you have there, anon! Ha ha ha!
>>
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Snatching up the critter by the scruff of their neck, you hold the squirming test subject aloft in front of you and give it a once-over. Though still clearly confused, the raccoon seems somewhat relieved that it hasn’t been toasted yet. That’s a start. First impressions aside, you remark, this lil’ squirt could have its uses… it cool if you take it?

Do so at YOUR OWN PERIL!” Exclaims The Doc with a theatrical wave of his hand! “Behind that cuddly exterior lies a TERRIBLE EVIL… and don’t get me started on the DISEASES WILD ANIMALS CARRY!

Great, you nod as you stuff your new pet into your pocket, you’ll take good care of herOW! Several sharp claws dig into your leg as STANLEY scrambles out of her new home, instead making herself comfortable on your shoulder with a haughty hiss! She uh… she is a girl, right? You get a gnawed ear in response. Coulda’ fooled you!

“You ain’t exactly feminine yourself, cupcake.” Ly remarks, earning a punch in your ribs forOW! YOUR RIBS! B-but, you sputter, doubled over in pain from your own attack, t-tomboys are in right now…

So BE IT…” Huffs Dr. Devon as he stows his SCIENTIFIC FLAMETHROWER with a disappointed look in his yellow eyes. “But KNOW THIS: YOU and THOSE YOU LOVE will be in DIRE PERIL if you fail to-

Devon’s impassioned speech is cut short by a trio of chimes from the rusty speaker nestled in a corner of the lab.
https://youtu.be/zXhb596PlgI
DOCTOR DEVON TO THE ER. DOCTOR DEVON TO THE ER.

By the time you glance back to The Doc, he’s already disappeared! Wait, you sputter, what was he saying just now?!

A THOUSAND APOLOGIES, my dear,” Devon croaks as he snaps on a pair of fresh gloves behind you, “But I’m afraid I have my OWN battlefield to return to–as do YOU, I imagine!

Turning to face him, you manage to catch The Doc halfway through the lab door! “Fret not, young Stanley–we in the medical field don’t need MAGICAL SERUMS to perform miracles! Stay vigilant–I’ll have a fresh batch of BERRY TARTS waiting for you when you return… you could say they’re… to DIE FOR!

Slipping through the door with a maniacal cackle, you and your new companion are left to bond for a few moments before The Doc’s pale face peeks through the portal once more.

Clean up and lock the door before you leave, would you, dear? I wouldn’t want to… ATTRACT ANTS!” Leaving with another round of laughter, you’re finally left to your own devices… and things to do!

WHERE TO NEXT?
>CHECK THE MARKETPLACE! YOU’VE STILL GOT PEARLS, RIGHT?
>HEAD TO THE ARENA! YOU COULD BLOW OFF SOME STEAM!
>PICK UP DENISE FROM DETENTION! SHE’S GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!
>SWING BY YOUR PRIVATE BUNKER! YOUR FRIENDS BETTER NOT HAVE TRASHED THE POOL!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5156373
>>PICK UP DENISE FROM DETENTION! SHE’S GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!
>>
>>5156373
>>PICK UP DENISE FROM DETENTION! SHE’S GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!
Also lets clean up for him, doc's got a lot on his plate already with the whole skeleton war thing.
>>
>>5156373
>PICK UP DENISE FROM DETENTION! SHE’S GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!
>>
>>5156379
>>5156383
>>5156414
>BAILING OUR 'FRIEND' OUT

Writing!
>>
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“Errr, I don’t think Doc was serious about da’ whole ‘clean up da’ place’ thing, cupcake…” Ly mutters as you finish shoveling a pile of IMPORTANT-LOOKING DOCUMENTS into a trash bag! ‘Err derrn thurrnk Derrk werrs!’ that’s RIGHT, you hiss, he DOESN’T think! Mopping up the remains of your SERUM with your mop, you and your new pet give each other a nod of approval. No one ASKS an EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR to clean up just like no one ASKS a surgeon to save someone’s life! Or THE STORK to deliver babies!

“Yea, we’re uh… we’re gonna have ta’ have dat’ talk eventually…” Replies your bones in a disgusted tone. “Anyways, where we headed next?”

Well, you sigh as your pet darts in and out of the open closet with a JAR OF BERRY JAM dangling from its mouth, you’d really rather not do it, but Denise still needs to be bailed out of jail… sweeping a few crumbs and dust bunnies underneath the Doc’s desk, your conversation is put on hold when your raccoon counterpart pokes you in the cheek a few times with the jar. Popping the cap off with a flustered groan, you give the animal a disapproving frown as it immediately digs into the contents sending several drops of jam onto the floor!

Dipping your hand into the jar and sampling some of the contents yourself, you give the preserves an ‘MMM!’ of approval before heading for the door.

“Doc Venaas, huh?” Ly remarks as you gingerly flick the lights off before leaving. “Ya’ think she knows anything about dat’ ‘TRAITOR’ stuff?”

You dunno, you shrug, nearly causing Stanley to drop her meal, but one thing’s for sure: if anyone’s gonna cave under pressure, it’s her.

“Well try not ta’ give her a heart attack…” Ly suggests as you make your way out of the MEDICAL WING, “She ain’t much use to us as a corpse.”

She ain’t much use to us PERIOD, you correct as you scoop another handful of your pet’s jelly into your mouth! Damn, this is good!

>CONTD.
>>
>>5156503
>>5156502
Double postin mf.
>>
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>>5156503
Amidst the sea of baffled stares and whispered remarks you receive upon reaching the SECURITY WING, one Rent-A-Cop stands unshaken in the lobby with a bored expression barely hidden behind their mask.

“Parble, right? Name’s JUN. Thought you’d be taller.” Motioning you to follow, the security guard escorts you to a nearby elevator and dutifully presses the ‘CALL’ button. “About time you showed up–another hour in there and your pal would probably drown the whole bunker with all the sweatin’ she’s been doin’.”

Stepping into the elevator, you and Stanley take your place in the corner while Jun sticks a key into a slot beneath the floor buttons. “Anyways, got word from the higher-ups not too long ago: she’s free to go if you say so. Then again,” The guard pauses, shooting you a sideways glance through their mask lenses, “if you think she oughta’ stay, well…” He shrugs. “No skin off of my ass.”

Trying and failing to ignore the incessant lip-smacking going on next to your ear, you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at your escort. He doesn’t sound very worried about Denise.

“I’m not.” Jun shrugs as he drums his gloved fingers on the elevator wall. “When we picked her up in the parking lot trying to carry around those vats of… whatever they were, she just kinda froze up. Like a deer, right? Only a LOT sweatier.”

Yea, you sigh, picturing how it all played out in your head, sounds like her, alright. The elevator opens with a cheerful ding into a long, cement hallway. Following close behind the security goon, both you and your raccoon shrink back a bit at the booming sound and frigid air emanating from the vents above!

“She’s just down this way. I know you’re a bit of a… celebrity, but we’ve still got ground rules: Number 1: no touching. You wanna kiss her? Smack her? Do it once she’s released.”

The very notion of touching Denise sends a shiver down your spine. No THANKS!

>CONTD.
>>
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“Right there with ya–should be easy to follow.” Jun nods. “Number 2: you’re bein’ watched. I’ll give you two a little space, but this ain’t no conjugal visit–Lars an’ I will be right down the hall.”

Before you can ask who Lars is, your question is answered when you pass by an EXOSKELETONED GUARD with his feet propped up on a desk. Barely looking up from a magazine on VINTAGE CARS, he taps one of his massive boots on a button built into his desk that opens a gate in front of you.

“Lars.” Jun mutters, earning a middle finger from his coworker. Passing through the newly-opened portal, you and Jun pass by several rows of thick, metal doors that look like they could withstand a missile strike. Barren save for two tiny shutters: one to speak through, one for food, the doors seem to go on for miles until your escort pauses in front of one in particular.

You hear familiar sobbing echoing from beyond the door long before Jun starts shoving keys into the door’s several locks. We can’t just, y’know, leave her here, can we?

“Let’s grill her first–then we’ll talk.” Ly answers thoughtfully. Works for you!

“Number 3:” Jun concludes as he starts opening the door, “try to go easy on her. Girl clams up if you so much as stare at her wrong."

Yea, yea, you mutter, waving him away, you know how to deal with this dork! Giving you one last shrug, Jun shoves the door open, filling the hallway with an unearthly shriek of metal! Hissing in displeasure, Stanley takes refuge underneath your FUR COAT and stays there long after the sound fades away. Taking a few cautious steps into the dark cell in front of you, it doesn’t take long for you to follow the uncontrollable sobbing over to the shivering mess in the corner wearing a sweat-stained orange jumpsuit.

S-S-S-ST-STAN?!” Denise blubbers, wiping a mixture of snot, sweat, and tears onto her jumpsuit’s sleeve, “I-I-I-I d-d-didn’t do anything…

That remains to be seen, you growl as you loom over the nerd with a stern look on your face! What the hell happened to her anyways?

W-W-Well,” She mutters, “I w-was checking on th-the chemicals like y-you ASKED me to, b-but they f-found me, and-”

Not that, you dweeb! What’s with that crap under her eye? Did she draw that?

Touching the three black teardrops drawn under her glasses, the scientist gives you a sheepish grin. “Oh! R-right! I’d read th-that pris-prisoners all over the w-world communicate all sorts of th-things through t-tattoos, s-so I g-gave myself a f-few t-to be safe! Th-they say y-you have to establish y-yourself on the first d-day, o-otherwise someone w-will make you their…” It takes a moment for the dweeb to work up the courage to say the word: “B-b-B-b-BITCH…

You should have traded her for a cigarette AGES ago!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5156529
Abandoning the thought for now, you turn to Jun and confirm what she told you–have the other inmates been messing with Denise at all?

“What other inmates?” asks the guard in an incredulous tone. “She’s been on her own ever since we booked her–we offered her some time to go out and stretch her legs, but she just started crying about prison walls being ‘funny’ or some crap like that.” Stretching his neck with an unsettling ‘CRACK’, the guard concludes with a nonchalant shrug. “We kinda forgot about her after that.”

Okay, you frown, turning your attention back to the criminal scum on the floor in front of you, but how’d she get the pens to draw those tats anyways? Didn’t they frisk her?

Denise stops sobbing for a moment to give you a shaky chuckle! “H-heh heh… A g-g-good sc-scientist ALWAYS h-has an extra p-pen…” Retrieving a BALLPOINT PEN from the bird’s nest on her head, she barely has time to give you a faint smile before Jun LEAPS into the cell and goes to town on her with a STUN ROD! Watching in awe, you’re just about to step in when the security goon finishes administering justice!

“I swear…” Jun huffs, placing the pen in one of his many pockets, “we searched her, like, twelve times…” Retracting his STUN ROD and holstering it, the Rent-A-Cop gives you an apologetic shrug. “Zero Tolerance for contraband, y’know? Can’t be helped.”

You and the raccoon peeking out from under your coat give him a knowing nod–without rules to govern us, you muse, you’d be no better than Denise here: a wild animal!

D-d-did you g-get a n-new pet, St-Stan?” Coughs Denise as she waves away the smoke from her fried hair. “Th-that’s s-so cute…

Whirling to face the scientist with a bestial growl, you firmly plant your feet on the ground and stare daggers at her soot-covered face! YOU’RE the one asking questions here, creep!

Qu-questions?!” Denise sputters as a fresh supply of sweat glistens on her forehead, “S-sure, Stan… An-anything to h-help a fr-friend…

Let’s not be too hasty, you snarl, because she’s got a lot to answer for! WHAT DO YOU START WITH?
>HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET CAUGHT WITH THOSE CHEMICALS?
>TALBOT’S HUMAN NOW, YOU KNOW! WHAT CAN SHE TELL YOU ABOUT HIM?
>WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT TRAITORS? IS SHE ONE?
>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
>SHE USED YOUR DAMN BATH, DIDN’T SHE? ADMIT IT!
>NEVER MIND–SHE CAN STAY IN JAIL!
>FORGET IT–YOU’RE TAKING HER NOW!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5156506
Hey! HEY! It had BAD FORMATTING, do you hear me?! It HAD to be deleted, okay? It was the only way!

Also, /qst/ is acting kinda funky on my end--took ages for that post with even MORE crappy formatting to post. Moreover, it's getting a little late on my end, so I'm gonna call it here for tonight.

Tuesday might be a little busy for me, so I can't promise a full update until WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST! MIGHT HAVE TIME FOR A SMALL UPDATE ON TUESDAY, THOUGH! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5156531
>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
Guess we start with the most basic one and see if she trips up on herself anywhere.

>>5156539
Sure, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself, pal.
>>
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>>5156547
>>
>>5156531
>>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
Lets start basic, get the details. Then maybe talk about Talbot around the end. We can wait to ask her about traitor stuff when we aren't in a heavily monitored area.
>>
>>5156531
>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
>>
>>5156373
>PICK UP DENISE FROM DETENTION! SHE’S GOT SOME ‘SPLAININ’ TO DO!
>>
>>5156531
>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
>>
>>5156531
>WHAT HAS SHE BEEN UP TO SINCE YOU LEFT HER HERE?
>>
>>5156547
>>5156552
>>5156583
>>5156654
>>5157120
>WHAT'S SHE BEEN UP TO ANYWAYS?

>>5156640
MIGHT WANT TO GET YOUR ROUTER CHECKED, BRO

Writing!
>>
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You opt to start with the soft questions–that talk with Christy has had you looking over your shoulder ever since you left! Snatching a fresh handful of BERRY JAM in your hand despite protests from your new pet, you shove the fruity mixture into your mouth to the abject horror of both your interrogatee and the jailer before getting down to, as you refer to it, ‘BRASS TACKS.

What, you begin between smacking your lips, was she doing this whole time anyways? If she was just loafing around in your godDAMN tub-

N-n-NO!” Denise screeches in a pitch just below glass-shattering, “I-I-I-I-I-

Hold it, you groan as you motion for the dork to pause, she’s EXPLAINING something, right? Didn’t she say her stuttering turns off when she does that, or whatever?

W-well it’s only if it’s a SCIENTIFIC explana-

Then PRETEND, you groan, earning a hiss from the raccoon still stuffed down the front of your coat. You really need to scrounge up one of those baby harness things after this…

O-OKAY!” Denise nods with an uncharacteristic look of determination on her sweaty, tattoo-stuffed face! “L-like I was saying, I was NOT loafing around in your tub! No sir!

Resolving to make Talbot scrub the bathroom for blonde hairs later, you begrudgingly motion for the dweeb to continue. Supposing you DO believe her–what DID she spend all that time doing?

R-RESEARCH!” She responds with a twinkle in her eye! Spotting Jun going for his baton, you stealthily wave him off–not yet... What research, exactly?

On th-the E.B.B COMPOUND, of course! ‘EVERYTHING BUT BONE’!” Denise explains in the voice of someone way too stoked to be working with FLESH-EATING CHEMICALS.W-we developed it in my l-lab on th-the orders of the GENERAL, remember? H-he wanted to use it at the DAM…

DUH, you exclaim, you were THERE! That was the part where Art came back, too! It was a big deal!

R-right, well…” The scientist stammers, “M-my colleagues and I knew what our work would be used for, of course, s-so we were ALSO producing a s-SIMILAR COMPOUND simultaneously: the N.B.B COMPOUND! ‘NOTHING BUT BO-’

ENGLISH, NERD! You roar, sending STANLEY skittering deeper into your duds!

I… I was t-TELLING you…” Denise whimpers with a confused look on her face, “Y-you uh… you interrupted me…

Oh, you grunt, keep going then. ‘Sorry’!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5159233
A-anyways,” Denise mutters ,barely reacting to your apology, “Th-the N.B.B COMPOUND effectively works like its counterpart, but expressly targets BONES.” Instinctively grabbing for a pen in her jumpsuit, the scientist reconsiders when Jun flicks on his baton.

W-we were going to try to s-swap them when GENERAL HAWKES and his s-stormtroopers weren’t looking, b-but th-that’s when they started experimenting on m-my associates…

Great, now she’s getting misty-eyed again… Motioning for her to continue, you deftly redirect the conversation back on track–so she was working on it here?

Y-yes!” Denise nods, sending droplets of sweat and tears raining onto you and Jun, “I f-figured I could be u-useful! Y-you were busy fighting sk-sk-UNDEAD, and you KNOW I’m not much of a fighter…

She’s right, you nod, giving the jailer a knowing laugh. You’re pretty sure WET TISSUE PAPER’S tougher than Denny here!

“Well her story checks out…” Jun replies, shrugging your remark off with professional ease, “Security footage picked her up leaving your PERSONAL BUNKER several times with some kind of GYM BAG– turns out the only ‘gains’ she was making were from our R&D LABS.

I c-can explain!” Denise yelps as you briefly imagine her with muscles. Spooky! “I-I had t-to start from scratch wh-when my lab blew up! S-since I was already here AND still an em-employee, I just b-b-BORROWED a few instruments from the labs that we-weren’t using them! I was going to br-bring them back, honest!

SURE you were…” Jun drawls as he glowers at the trembling prisoner. “She had quite the setup when we searched your place, Parble–that laundry room of yours was starting to look like my old Middle School Chem Lab…”

I-IT was necessary for the w-work I was doing!” Denise squeaks in a defiant tone! “I-It’s not like I w-was making a BAKING SODA VOLCANO!

“Alright, alright, just statin’ facts…” The guard grumbles, placating the nerd somewhat. “Anyways, she didn’t leave the bunker much aside from that, but when she did she stayed in public areas.”

Y-yes!” Denise nods emphatically! “I assisted th-the MEDICAL CENTER WORKERS to c-clear my head! M-Medical Science is somewhat of a h-hobby of mine!

Cripes, she’s worse than ART... Massaging your temples with a disinterested sigh, you give the scientist another up-and-down before giving her a weary huff. So she was working on her project the whole time, huh?

Yes!” Denise confirms! “I c-can even share my f-findings with GOOD BOY R&D! All above board!” Punctuating her statement with a nervous giggle, Denise runs a shaky hand through her wild hair. “A-all I really did besides that was clean the bunker… a-and practice cooking..

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5159235
“Well,” Jun interjects with a yawn, “You’re more than welcome to work with R&D on your little science project…” He pauses to look your way. “If Parble signs off on it, that is.”

PLEASE, STAN!” Denise whimpers, clinging to your leg! “I-I’m not MADE for pr-prison! Th-they’ll EAT ME ALIVE in here! I BEG you from o-one CHESS NUT to a-another…

Both of her saucer-sized lenses fixate on your face. “D-don’t l-leave me in here!

Letting her fester for a minute, you eventually respond with a noncommittal shrug. MAYBE, you grunt, but before you make the judgment call here…

>HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET CAUGHT WITH THOSE CHEMICALS?
>TALBOT’S HUMAN NOW, YOU KNOW! WHAT CAN SHE TELL YOU ABOUT HIM?
>WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT TRAITORS? IS SHE ONE?
>SHE USED YOUR DAMN BATH, DIDN’T SHE? ADMIT IT!
>NEVER MIND–SHE CAN STAY IN JAIL!
>FORGET IT–YOU’RE TAKING HER NOW!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5159239
>>TALBOT’S HUMAN NOW, YOU KNOW! WHAT CAN SHE TELL YOU ABOUT HIM?
>>WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ABOUT TRAITORS?

If I'm being honest, I'm still leaning towards Mitzi being the traitor. Worth a shot to see if Denise will spill some beans anyhow.
>>
>>5159239
>TALBOT’S HUMAN NOW, YOU KNOW! WHAT CAN SHE TELL YOU ABOUT HIM?
I want to hold off on discussing traitor stuff right now, we are in a surveilled location.
>>
>>5159239

Changing this >>5159253 to support this >>5159380
>>
Sorry to cut things off so soon, but I've been feeling out of it since this morning and it doesn't feel like it's improving. Assuming I'm feeling alright tomorrow, I'll be away from my main rig and can't promise an update until THURSDAY 7-8PM PST. If I feel crappier, well... I guess we'll see, huh?! Thanks for being patient and hope to see you next time!
>>
>>5159380
>>5159393
>TALBOT'S HUMAN!

Writing! Sorry for the wait--today was B A N A N A S
>>
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You might as well tell her about her little SCIENCE PROJECT, right? Making a decidedly futile attempt to retrieve the raccoon from inside your shirt, you abandon the endeavor and cover up your irritation with a tired sigh–she knows that Talbot’s human now, right?

“Wh-Wh-WHA!?” Denise sputters, sending a fresh spray of sweat towards the cell door! “Buh-buh-but HOW?!”

Buh-buh-buh-YOU USED MAGIC, you retort! You found this PEARL thing during that annoying encounter with the MERMAIDS–it fixed him up lickety-split!

“Wait…” Jun mutters as he leans in closer, “Mermaids… are REAL?”

Yea, you nod, and they’re total BASKET CASES, so don’t even think about it! Anyways, you shrug, he’s fixed, so she might want to, like, avoid open lockers and toilets for a while.

If the scientist hears your warning, she doesn’t react to it. “Th-th-this is INCREDIBLE, STAN! Y-you mean to say that h-he’s been r-reverted to human form? W-with no side effects!?”

The prisoner is inches from eagerly grabbing your shoulders before Jun’s baton turns on again. Backing off a bit, Denise’ excitement swiftly fades into a slew of maddened ramblings: “... would it be a RESTORATION, though, or more of a SYMBIOSIS… Goodboynium’s inherently contaminated with magic, so-”

Snapping her out of it with a flick to the forehead, you ask Denise to make like a fridge and COOL IT! What’s she so excited about, anyways? He’s TOTALLY gonna bully the heck outta her!

“W-well,” She replies, twiddling her thumbs excitedly, “Th-this situation is r-RIPE with possibilities, Stanley… If w-what you s-say is true, T-Talbie c-could provide all KINDS of scientific data and kn-knowledge with h-his new form!” Scraping a few scribbles into the floor of her cell with her jagged, chewed nails, Denise turns to look at you again with an eerily-enthusiastic grin!

“T-tell me: d-does he still exhibit full control over his ACTIVE DEFENSES? Th-the GOODBOYNIUM PSEUDOPODS? BUILT-IN SUGGESTION DEVICES? OOH!” Her eyes light up behind her broad spectacles, “Wh-what about that SYMPATHETIC TRACKING DEVICE? C-Can he still f-feel when you’re in pain or sl-sleeping and locate you??”

Wading through the big words, you nearly trip over the last few–wait, what did she say about a TRACKING DEVI-

“Y-you needn’t worry about me, Stanley…” Denise sighs as a wistful smile forms on her face, “T-Talbie might seem abrasive a-and hostile, b-but you don’t know him like I do!” A faint reddish hue forms in the scientist’s cheeks. “H-he’s not that bad…”

A tiny itch is telling you that you REALLY don’t wanna go down this path, but another REALLY wants to ask… While Denise returns to her notes, you steer the conversation back on track:

>CONTD.
>>
>>5160347
Choices:

>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FUNCTIONS OF HIS!
>WHAT DO YOU THINK HE’S BECOME? IS IT SAFE?
>SHE ERM… DOES SHE HAVE A HISTORY WITH HIM?
>SHE FIXED YOUR PHONE–CAN SHE FIX TALBOT AT ALL? OR UPGRADE HIM?
>YOU REAAAAALLY DON’T WANNA KEEP TALKING ABOUT ‘TALBIE’. LET’S CHAT ABOUT OTHER STUFF.
>WRITE-IN!

That's also the last update tonight--not on my main rig and it's already getting late for me! Should have more on FRIDAY, though, so keep an eye out then! Thanks again for being patient--getting ready to move soon again, so things are getting a bit more hectic on my end. Should have things figured out soon, though!
>>
>>5160350
>>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FUNCTIONS OF HIS!
>>WHAT DO YOU THINK HE’S BECOME? IS IT SAFE?
>>
>>5160350
>>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FUNCTIONS OF HIS!
>SHE FIXED YOUR PHONE–CAN SHE FIX TALBOT AT ALL? OR UPGRADE HIM?
>>
>>5160356
Dis.
>>
>>5160350
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FUNCTIONS OF HIS!
>SHE ERM… DOES SHE HAVE A HISTORY WITH HIM?
>SHE FIXED YOUR PHONE–CAN SHE FIX TALBOT AT ALL? OR UPGRADE HIM?
>>
>>5160350
>WHAT DO YOU THINK HE’S BECOME? IS IT SAFE?
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FUNCTIONS OF HIS!
>SHE FIXED YOUR PHONE–CAN SHE FIX TALBOT AT ALL? OR UPGRADE HIM?
>>
>>5160356
>>5160364
>>5160388
>>5160471
>>5161316
THE TALLY:

>FUNCTIONS: 5!
>SAFE? 3!
>UPGRADES: 3!
>HISTORY: 1

Let's go with FUNCTIONS, SAFETY, and UPGRADES then! Writing!
>>
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Back on track to the REAL issue here–what were those FUNCTIONS she was babbling about?! Just as Denise’s face lights up with excitement, you skillfully switch it off by telling her to stick to the short version. You don’t got all day, ya’ know!

“She’s right.” Jun grunts as he stares at his wristwatch. “Visit’s almost over. You wanna catch up, do it AFTER you take her off our hands.”

Yea, yea, you grumble, you’ll be quick! Ignoring the annoyed grunt from the guard, you motion for Denise to make with the chatting!

W-well like I said, Talbie was outfitted w-with several abilities upon creation… M-many of which you know about already.

Yep, you nod, like his STUPID TENTACLE THINGS and SHIELDY-METAL GOO. He still has ‘em!

F-fascinating!” The scientist sputters as the sides of her mouth curl into a trembling, manic grin! “Th-then perhaps the others are functional too!

NOW you remember why you were pissed! Crossing your arms and frowning, you ask Denise if she’s talking about that SUBDUCTION and the TRACKING DEVICES!

Y-yes!” She nods with a twinkle in her eye! “W-we used the SUGGESTION DEVICE back at the DAM, r-remember? I h-had Talbie create a distraction!

Nope, you mutter, doesn’t ring a bell.

“Da’ big lug took a TANK SHELL to da’ chest, cupcake.” Ly explains, kicking the rusty cogs in your head into high gear. NOW you remember! Say, that sounds HANDY! Think of all the stuff you could make him do!

W-well l-let’s not be too hasty… w-we don’t know if it still works or not. The device only has s-so much range…

You snatch her noodly arm and pick her up before she can finish. What the HELL are we waiting for, then? Yanking her towards you, Denise just barely avoids a close encounter with your new pet’s claw as it swipes at her from your FUR COAT!

ACK! Wh-what IS that?!

Riiiight, you mutter as you shove Stanley’s protesting head back into your clothes, that’s Stanley. She’s a feisty one, but she’s got HEART!

>CONTD.
>>
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You scarcely have a hold on Denise’s arm before it slips between your fingers! Drenched in sweat, your hand is powerless to grab on again as the scientist tumbles back into the cell! Does she need a towel or something?!

Y-yes please…” The scientist mutters from the floor! “Th-thank you, Stan…

Tossing her one of your SPARE WETSUITS, you kneel next to Denise while she begins dabbing herself with the swimwear. So there’s a chance she can FORCE TALBOT TO DO HER BIDDING, huh?

W-well, n-not exactly…” The scientist sighs. “I-In Talbie’s prior form the device sent a set of SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS to his mind–i-if they were t-too vague or complex, well…” She shrugs. “I-If he’s back to normal levels of cognition and comprehension, it w-would most likely not be as effective…

You’re not exactly sure if Talbot currently qualifies at a ‘normal’ level of cognito and whatever the other word was, but it’s worth a shot, right?

“Fun as dat’ all sounds, aren’t ya’ a little curious about dat’ TRACKIN’ DEVICE, kid?” Ly asks, jogging your memory once more! YEA, you snarl, what’s the deal with the TRACKY thing? He used that to find you before, right?! That really peeved you off!

I understand your fr-frustration!” Denise whimpers as your expression darkens! “W-we calibrated it to h-hone in on a specific font of WILD M-MAGIC… AND A VI-VISUAL AID…

Your fingers subconsciously begin to drum on your folded arms. What aid, exactly?

You know the answer already, of course–why else would Talbot be able to track you down? Sure enough, your predicted answer leaves Denise’s trembling lips:

O-of y-you…

DANG IT! Does this mean Talbot’s got a bead on you 24/7!? Even NOW?!

I-Is…” Denise whispers, shooting you a sideways glance, “Is th-that r-really a b-bad thing now, th-though?

Is it?
>OF COURSE IT IS! YEEEUCH!
>IT’S NOT A GOOD THING! YOU DON’T WANT HIM HAVING TABS ON YOU ALL THE TIME!
>I MEAN… IT MIGHT BE KINDA HANDY. STILL A BIT WEIRD, THOUGH!
>TALBOT AS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL? THAT UH… THAT SOUNDS OKAY…
>FLICK HER FOREHEAD! QUIT ACTING WEIRD, NERD!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5161500
>TALBOT AS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL? THAT UH… THAT SOUNDS OKAY…
>FLICK HER FOREHEAD! QUIT ACTING WEIRD, NERD!
>>
>>5161500
>FLICK HER FOREHEAD! QUIT ACTING WEIRD, NERD!
>>
>>5161501
Dis. Again.

Guess that explains why he said he 'felt us die,' when we were in the mine.
>>
>>5161501
>>5161503
>>5161523
>GUARDIAN ANGEL: 2!
>FLICK FOREHEAD: 3!

Writing!
>>
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Taking a moment to contemplate the heinous geek’s words, a part of you can’t help but admit that yea, having a nigh-indestructible and infamously-volatile Evening Sanitation Coordinator on speed dial IS pretty neat! And, y’know, if he does have the capacity to be nice every now and then…

Your train of thought is derailed when you finally notice Denise grinning out of the corner of your eye. Springing into action, you give her sweaty forehead a resounding FLICK–QUIT ACTING WEIRD, NERD!

AUGH!” She yelps, recoiling from the might of your blow, “Y-you said it out loud! A-and you were SM-SM-SMILING near the end!

Still, you huff, blowing some imaginary smoke off of your pointer finger, she really needs to COOL IT! So, you continue, there’s a chance that Talbot can not only TAKE COMMANDS, but also KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE 24/7?

Correct…” The scientist nods, prematurely recoiling to avoid a flick that never comes. “Th-though it’s impossible to tell without testing… Th-that would require, erm, freeing me… Ha.. ha ha…

Jury’s still out on that, freak! Now that she mentions it, though, could she, like, UPGRADE those abilities? T’s good in a fight, but is there any way she can mess with his ARMOR AND TENTACLES? Ooh, or maybe she can make that MIND CONTROL THING work better! That’d be bitchin’!

“Y-yes… It certainly would…” Denise mutters under her breath. A whimsical look darts across her face for a moment before she snaps back to reality. Ope, there goes gravity. “Bu-but t-to do that, I’d have t-to r-run some tests…

There she goes again with the tests! What’s the big deal, anyways? They aren’t DANGEROUS, right? A few seeds of doubt are planted in your mind when the scientist fails to look you in the eyes.

N-not dangerous, no… I-It’d b-be similar to h-how we altered his body b-before…” Denise mumbles in a tone that inspires even less confidence in her than usual, “B-but it WOULD be um, INVASIVE… a-and VERY PAINFUL!

Great, you reply with a chipper grin, then it’s still on the table! And now you have some ammo for when you talk with the big oaf one-on-one!

Whuh-WHUh-ONE-ON-ONE?!?!” Sputters the scientist with uncharacteristic emotion in her voice! “I erm… I mean… ‘ha ha’…

... What is WITH this bitch anyways?

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5161596
With your curiosity just about satisfied, you opt to ask the dork one last question about Tall, Red, and Stupid: she doesn’t think Talbot’s… dangerous, does she?

H-he’s… he’s really n-nice once you g-get to know him-

That’s not what you mean, dork! Reaching into your FUR COAT to wield Stanley like a furry torture device, you reconsider when all you get for your troubles is a gnawed hand! Ow!

H-he W-WAS animated b-by Th-Th-THE LICH, though…” Denise stammers just as a long, frigid breeze blows through the jail. “S-so if th-this P-PEARL of y-yours didn’t remove th-that TAINT, well…” Denise pauses mid-sentence as a grim expression forms on her face. “I-It’s hard to s-say, Stanley, es-especially since I’m not a m-mage… a-and as your fr-friend I w-won’t c-confirm or d-deny it… ” Punctuating her sentence with a resigned sigh, Denise looks at you with a conflicted look. “B-but for all we know, y-you might have saved his l-life with that P-PEARL… whether he knows it or n-not…

All you can do is blink in response. It’s hard to believe only a few days ago Talbot was hell-bent on murdering you, and even harder to believe that he was a SKELETON too–was he also under TIM’S control? Would he still be if you didn’t use the pearl on him?

The implications send a shiver down your spine.

“Alright, ladies, date’s over.” June interjects as he preemptively extends his STUN BATON and points it in Denise’s direction. “Sorry, Parble, but I’ve got more stuff to do than listen to you chat all day–you takin’ this creep with you or not?”

Dr. Venaas looks at you like a pet shop puppy wanting to be picked. As you ponder your decision, however, fragments of your previous meetings flash through your head…

You’ve received the warnings from CHRISTY, BLUMENKRANTZ, AND EVEN YOUR BOSS– the question is, do they have anything to do with Denise?

What’s the verdict here?
>DENISE STAYS IN JAIL!
>DENISE GOES UNDER HOUSE ARREST!
>DENISE IS FREE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5161597
That's all for tonight, folks--it was a big day and this weekend's gonna be even... BIGGERER! So much so that I probably won't be able to update again until SATURDAY AROUND 7-8PM PST OR SUNDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST!

I might be able to get some stuff in on Saturday morning, but we'll see what happens. Until then, thanks for playing and have a great weekend!
>>
>>5161597
>>DENISE IS FREE!
God she makes it hard to like her sometimes, lets get her out of this cage at least.
>>
>>5161597
>DENISE IS FREE!

This girl has issues.

Then again, so does every female in our entourage, including ourself.
>>
>>5161597
>>DENISE IS FREE!
>>
>>5161597
>DENISE IS FREE!
>>
>>5161631
The question is: which one is the MOST messed up... and which is the LEAST?
>>
>>5161682
Sybil is probably the closest thing to normal among them. I would say Stanley is by far the most messed up.
>>
>>5161597
>DENISE IS FREE!

I don't trust, now that we know Talbot can sense our direction and she has something that at least used to be to control him but if she is the traitor we don't want her to know we suspect her. House arrest is out since she might use Stanley's hot tub while we're gone
>>
>>5161615
>>5161631
>>5161633
>>5161638
>>5161709
>DENISE IS FREEEEEEEEE!

Writing! Got some time today before plans!
>>
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An overpowering wave of nausea, disgust, and mild annoyance washes over you as your next words seal your doom:

DENISE GOES FREE.

“Okay, christ… don’t gotta shout...” Jun mutters as a sound akin to a boiling tea kettle escapes from the prisoner’s mouth.
DENISE WILL REMEMBER THAT.
Ushering her towards the door with his baton, the Rent-A-Cop motions for you to follow as well. “C’mon, Lars’ll have her stuff ready.”

Following suit, you try your best to ignore the wide, spectacled eyes currently burning holes into your face as your entourage continues down the hall past countless identical cell doors. Wonder how many other rabble rousers they’ve got down here?

“Right, before I forget…” Jun mutters before taking out his radio. “Control? We’re discharging Prisoner D-4667 per-yea, that’s right.” Keeping his baton close to Denise, the guard turns away from the radio to look at you. “Control says hi.”

Err, hey?

“She says ‘hey’. Yep.” Jun nods as you approach the checkpoint you entered from. “Yea–send a BURNER TEAM down when you get the chance–hell, send a priest if you’ve got one. Cell could use a lot of sterilization. Right. Over.”

Buzzing open upon your approach, the checkpoint gate allows you passage over to Lars’ desk once more. Not bothering to look up from his reading material, the guard nudges a bag dripping with sweat to your side of the table.

“Change in there. Leave the jumpsuit inside.” Denise picks up on it before you do–a door to your right clicks open revealing a changing room of sorts–more of a closet, really. Looking to Jun for confirmation, the scientist gives you all a shaky, if not grateful, smile as she takes her belongings in hand.

It w-w-was n-nice m-meeting you a-

“No it wasn’t, nerd. Get lost.”

O-okay! H-ha ha!

Scurrying into the changing room, you, Jun, Lars, and even Stanley share a weary look. What the Hell have you done?

“Not our problem anymore.” Lars shrugs before returning to his magazine.
“My advice, Parble? Keep an eye on her.” Jun whispers as he pokes his baton towards the changing room. “You know what they say about cornered animals, right?”

Yea, you nod as your wild animal snatches a lukewarm paper cup of coffee off of Lars’ desk, don’t feed them after midnight…

“That’s not it at all.”

Your witty response is cut off by your new ‘pet’ accidentally dropping her coffee onto your boots. Damn it!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5163899
A few awkward minutes of wiping stuff off with napkins later, you and your fellow CHESS NUT emerge into the SECURITY WING via elevator!

“Welp,” Jun remarks as the three of you step out of the lift, “Won’t bore you with paperwork, Parble, but here’s a reminder: she’s your responsibility now. And if you ever need last-minute lodgings, cause trouble.” The guard gives you both a long, hard stare. “Please.”

Yep, yep, yep, you mutter as you wave the Rent-A-Cop away, doesn’t he have some donuts to track down or something? Shuffling off before he can get in an answer, you immediately feel the air around you increase in humidity as Denise starts up AGAIN.

B-before we g-go an-anywhere, Stanley,” She sputters, barely managing to keep up with you as you weave through the veritable beehive that is SECURITY WING,I-I just wanted t-to say h-how s-sorry I am-

“Oh boy, here we go again…” Ly groans as you feel Stanley’s claws dig into your stomach. You REALLY need to clip this thing’s nails or something!

Right, Denise is blubbering again. Entering the MAIN SHAFT, you spot a secluded MAINTENANCE PASSAGE out of the corner of your eye–one that might not have a lot of SURVEILLANCE… What say you? YOU WILL HEAD TO THE PASSAGE IF YOU WANNA SAY ANYTHING PRIVATE, OF COURSE!

>DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT–YOU’RE JUST GLAD SHE’S OKAY!
>SHE FUCKED UP!
>YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT THAT–YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT TRAITORS!
>SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HER AND ‘TALBIE’! WHAT’S THEIR HISTORY ANYWAYS?
>SHUSH–YOU’VE GOT PLACES TO BE! (HEAD TO NEXT DESTINATION)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5163904
>SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HER AND ‘TALBIE’! WHAT’S THEIR HISTORY ANYWAYS?
>>
>>5163904
>SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HER AND ‘TALBIE’! WHAT’S THEIR HISTORY ANYWAYS?
>>
>>5163904
>SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HER AND ‘TALBIE’! WHAT’S THEIR HISTORY ANYWAYS?
>>
>>5164275
>>5164278
>>5164293
>DEEEEEETS

Writing!
>>
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Plugging Denise’s noise hole with your finger, you lead her over to the MAINTENANCE PASSAGE and shoulder your way through the door. Unlocked. Sloppy!

I-I d-don’t th-think we’re supposed to be in here, Stanley…” The scientist blubbers from behind your finger as you make sure the coast is clear. Relax, you grunt, you’re technically a maintenance worker! Besides, you shrug, what are they gonna do? Put her in jail again? Denise recoils at the thought!

M-maybe we sh-should go…

You will, you hiss, but not before she answers a question or two… off the record, that is! When she raises an eyebrow in confusion, you surreptitiously point a finger towards the ceiling–they’re always watching!

Errr, qu-questions? I can d-do that…” She nods, staining the floor with a fresh coat of sweat. EW.W-what’s on your mind? I-Is this about th-the CHEMICALS? I sw-swear, I didn’t mean-

No, you frown, this is BIGGER than that! You wanna know about ’TALBIE’, dang it! And HER!

A goofy grin forms on the scientist’s perpetually-trembling face. “H-heheh… M-me and Talbie…

You get her back on track with a flick to the forehead. Yea, dork! What’s their deal anyways? She acts like they’re ‘chums’ or something!

W-well you c-could say that…” Denise nods, cradling her reddening cheeks in her hands. “T-Talbie w-was the only one in th-the lab who was ever n-nice to me, you know…

Stanley pokes her head out of your coat just to exchange a confused glance with you. Wait, you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief, she’s saying that TALBOT, obnoxious, meathead, punk Talbot, was NICE?! To HER?!

H-heh heh… J-jealous, a-are we?” The scientist replies with a coy grin. NO WAY, you sputter, barely holding back another forehead flick! Y-you just don’t believe her, is all! She’s PRIME BULLYING MATERIAL– why wouldn’t he go for easy prey!?

W-well,” She begins, “It’s a l-long story…

Then tell the SHORT VERSION, you hiss, or you’re giving her a WET WILLY!

EEEP! O-OKAY! SHORT VERSION!
That’s better!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5164359
Wh-when I started working at th-the FOREST LAB,” Denise begins, “I didn’t have a l-lot of experience… or f-friends…

Wow, you groan, no kidding!

“Shh!” Ly hisses! “I wanna hear!”

It f-felt like I w-was always sc-screwing up…” She continues as the color drains from her face. “I kn-knew the formulas and th-the procedures, of c-course, but I w-was still getting used to the environment… a-and the people…

She was being a DWEEB, you summarize. Get to the point!

W-well one day e-everything changed…” Venaas adds with a wistful smile. “You s-see…

HOW DID EVERYTHING CHANGE?
>I WAS LOCKED OUT OF M-MY LAB ONCE…
>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…
>O-ONE OF THE TEST SUBJECTS B-BECAME AGGRESSIVE…
>I D-DROPPED SOME P-PAPERS A-AND JUST BROKE D-DOWN…
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5164361
>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…
Janitor Supreme to the rescue
>>
>>5164361
>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…
>>
>>5164361
>>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…

And on that day, humanity received a grim reminder...
>>
Gonna write an update MONDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST, folks--just got back home and I'm pretty bushed! Thanks for playing and have a good week--see you when I see you!
>>
>>5164361
>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…
>>
>>5164361
>THE LEAD RESEARCHER MUTATED INTO A TENTACLED HORROR...
>>
>>5164973
I respect the write in. However,

>>5164361
>TH-THERE WAS A H-HUGE CHEMICAL SPILL…
Seems more fitting given Tailbone is a fellow ESC. It'd be his kind of battle.
>>
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>>5164385
>>5164404
>>5164405
>>5164912
>>5165131
>CHEMICAL SPILL!

Writing! And since it's VALENTINE'S DAY, I whipped up a SPECIAL QUESTION WHILE YOU WAIT!

If you could take/be taken out on a date by one of the BONES QUEST KREW, who would you choose and why? Feel free to peruse the handy picture or pick someone else!

Also, who would be the WORST date? Why?
>>
>>5165821
Mitzi for valentines for sure, real tomboy hours.

Denise is the obvious choice here for bad date, but I also imagine Curt would just be so self centered and condescending that it would be insufferable.
>>
>>5165821
Gotta have to go with Kiki! Great cook, can shoot an LMG, BANGS.
>Worst
Denise just because she'd pass out from sweat-induced dehydration a minute into the date.
>>
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I-It started like any other night: I was cleaning LAB 2B after th-the last shift had left… th-they ALWAYS had me doing CLEANUP…” Explains the scientist with a sweaty, furrowed brow. The hell’s wrong with CLEANUP, huh?!

Nothing!” Denise sputters as you stare daggers at her! “I d-didn’t mind anyways–I’m not one f-for group work…

Clearly...

A-anyways,” She continues, deftly ignoring your barb, “I h-had just finished g-gathering most of the reagents when d-DISASTER STRUCK!

Now we’re talkin’, you grin! What was it? ZOMBIE OUTBREAK? A ROGUE AI?! HEAD RESEARCHER TURNED INTO A MONSTER?! The pint-sized scientist gives you an amused, albeit still shaky, grin.

Ha ha… n-nothing as grandiose as that, I’m af-fraid…” BOO! “I erm… I tripped… c-carrying most of the lab’s d-dirty glassware…

You know better than anyone how much of a bitch glass is to clean up, but you can’t help but smirk a bit at the image of Denise tripping into a pile of glass. Ha!

“Be nice, cupcake.”

You’re listening to her, aren’t you? Brushing Ly’s comments off, you motion for the scientist to continue. So she fell, you repeat. Is that where ‘TALBIE’ came in?

N-not yet, no…” The scientist replies with a shake of her sweaty head. “G-glass flew EVERYWHERE, and with it went several highly-reactive ch-chemicals! Th-the lab stations, the floor, e-even the c-ceilings! S-so I TRIED to run f-for the EMERGENCY SPRINKLERS, b-but that’s when… IT HAPPENED!

… Zombies?

N-no… I TRIPPED. AGAIN… A-and landed on a valve for a b-bunsen burner…

Of COURSE she did…

“How is dis’ broad not dead yet?” Ly asks in a concerned tone.

A-and then I opened a-ANOTHER one trying t-to regain my footing… a-and ANOTHER…

Good QUESTION!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5165920
A-and th-that’s when the fire ignited THAT puddle…

You would have fallen asleep by now if Stanley’s claws hadn’t been digging into your tummy. How does she do it, you think to yourself. How does this dweeb make a LAB ACCIDENT boring?!

W-well i-it wasn’t boring at th-the time…” Denise mutters as she points a shaky finger in your face. Shit, did you think out loud again?

“Yep,” Ly grunts, “An’ yer’ doin’ it now too, so shaddup.”

Okay, you groan, can she just get to the part with Talbot already? Feels like this update has just been people talking at you, even with that chilling BAT FIGHT in the middle!

Of co-course! S-so there I was: trapped amidst a burning, f-fizzing, hissing cocktail of a-all the chemicals our l-labs had been working with for th-the past few months–e-each breath becoming m-more difficult than the last…” The scientist pantomimes a raging inferno with her hands to spice things up a little–it doesn’t work. “B-but I knew I w-was trapped…

You get used to it, you interrupt as you puff out your chest! You cross paths with Death so much you might as well be dating by now!

W-wow…” Denise whispers in awe. “W-well then you probably know what I’m talking about: I w-was just starting to feel f-faint w-when IT HAPPENED!

Let me guess, you sigh, she tripped over her socks or something.

C-CORRECT!

GodDAMN it-

J-just k-kidding!” Says the scientist with an eerie giggle! “N-no, s-silly… HE ARRIVED!” Jabbing her finger skyward, you can’t help but follow it–d-does she mean?

PRECISELY!” Denise nods! “D-down fr-from the heavens came TALBOT l-like an AVENGING ANGEL OF CLEANING! B-before I knew what was happening, he had burst fr-from the air ducts w-with an arsenal of cleaning supplies: SPRAYS, SOAPS, CLEANING GRENADES! H-he even descended using s-some kind of BACK-MOUNTED VACUUM DEVICE!

Shiiiit, you groan, you miss your trusty ole’ BACKUUM 2000! Whatever happened to that thing, anyways?

“We ain’t gettin’ an answer from her, kiddo…” Reply your bones as the scientist continues to gush over Talbot’s entrance.

“H-he was like a TORNADO, STAN! A-and b-before I knew it, e-EVERYTHING was coated! A-and the fires stopped, too!

Yea, you nod, clearly unimpressed, you would have done the same thing… so he saved the day, huh?

Well, not exactly…” The scientist says with a nervous smile. “H-his liberal use of cleaning pr-products on volatile chemicals a-actually created deadly g-gas, but somewhere during his rampage he managed to trigger the EMERGENCY VENT SWITCH on the opposite side of the lab, so…” Punctuating her story with a shrug, all you can do is frown. Some story! She didn’t even do a flashback!

I-I can try…

NAH!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5165921
Eager to finish up, you ask the scientist what happened next–he didn’t ask her for her NUMBER, did he?!

N-n-n-NUMBER!?” Denise squeaks with renewed panic in her voice! “N-no! B-but he d-did ask what erm, ‘what the Hell I was doing ‘tarding around in an empty lab so late’! S-so I told him that I usually stay late since I d-don’t have much going on outside the lab…

And what did he say?

W-well he mentioned s-something about t-taking extra sh-shifts…” Replies the scientist as her brow furrows in thought. “S-something about his sick m-mother? A-anyways, a-after that w-we spent a LOT of t-time together! H-he’d help me cl-clean the labs, a-and I’d l-lend him an ear to sh-share his thoughts with… H-he was a g-good listener too…

Okay, you sigh with mild relief, so they were PALS!

“Why are you relieved?” Ly asks with piqued interest. Can he imagine if T was into… well, her?

“Good point. I’ll shut up now.”

Good!

I-It was nice having s-someone who actually l-looked forward to ch-chatting with me…” Denise sighs, both hands once again cradling her rosy cheeks. “S-so when Talbie d-didn’t show up one day, naturally it c-concerned me!

Let me guess, you frown, that’s around the time he signed up for some ‘tests, huh? Your prediction earns a solemn nod from the scientist.

O-one of the other researchers h-had promised a s-sizable fee if he agreed to, well, some ‘groundbreaking tests’... A-and b-by the time one of my c-colleagues had told me what happened, well…” A fresh stream of tears trickles down behind Denise’s glasses. “I th-thought it w-was a vagrant I was working on… I didn’t realize it was… It was…”

Ohh, you mutter as the realization slowly dawns upon you, oh shit... Watching the girl bury her face in her hands, you stand awkwardly as you try to come up with something comforting that doesn’t involve touching her.

H-he w-wasn’t s-supposed to b-become a m-monster!” She blubbers as she furiously rubs waves of snot and tears onto her baggy sleeve! “B-but if s-someone had t-to t-take care of him, w-well…” A barrage of sniffles barely keeps the tears at bay. “W-why shouldn’t it have b-been me?

Just when you think you can get away without consoling her, Denise collapses into a sobbing heap on the floor! Hovering over her as she slowly floods the corridor, you look to Stanley’s perplexed fuzzy face for answers and receive none. What is she even good for?!

How do you deal with this, exactly?
>JUST WAIT! IT’LL PROBABLY BE OVER SOON!
>GIVE HER AN ITEM! (WHICH ONE?)
>SHOVE STANLEY OVER TO HER! MAYBE AN ANIMAL CAN CURE THOSE SNIFFLES!
>SAY SOMETHING! ANYTHING CAN HELP, PROBABLY!
>HUG HER! (WARNING: GROSS)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Calling it here tonight, folks-- should have more for ya TUESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST. Things might get a little slower as I prepare to move, so I appreciate you taking the time to play as well as your patience!
>>
>>5165821
>Best date
Totally Kiki as the one with the least cons
>Worst date
Stan, and don't pretend she isn't.

>>5165922
>SHOVE STANLEY OVER TO HER! MAYBE AN ANIMAL CAN CURE THOSE SNIFFLES!
>>
>>5165922
>SHOVE STANLEY OVER TO HER! MAYBE AN ANIMAL CAN CURE THOSE SNIFFLES!
>>
>>5165922
>PAT HER ON THE SHOULDER! THERE, THERE!
>GIVE HER AN ITEM! (1 BOX OF ALL-OCCASION STICKERS: OVER 6 MILLION SITUATIONAL STICKERS!)

Just pat her shoulder (and discreetly wipe our hand off afterward), then offer her a sticker that says something along the lines of "I'm sorry you turned your friend into an experimental abomination!"

>>5165821
Best is Stan. She's got them thighs, and I also have a thing for freckles.

I don't think I'd get along well with Bea. I get easily annoyed by folks who are constantly, overwhelmingly cheery.
>>
>>5166029
>>5166028
You guys would do that to that poor fucking raccoon?


That's kind of funny.
>>
>>5166028
>>5166029
>SUPPORT ANIMAL!

>>5166030
>STICKERS!

Writing!

>>5166036
I know, right? These guys are MONSTERS.
>>
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You’re in a tight spot here–on one hand you REALLY don’t want to comfort this girl… Even if you were feeling generous, you’re not even sure where the sweat ends and the tears start anymore. Grody.

On the other hand, you’re pretty sure that if this sad sack doesn’t stop bawling her eyes out, you and everyone else in this bunker will be swimming to get around! No thanks!

“Well we’ve gotta do somethin’!” Ly mutters as your ears ring from Denise’s unyielding wailing. “Preferably somethin’ dat’ ain’t just narratin’ our thoughts!”

You’re sorry, okay?! It’s a reflex! Feeling the scientist’s sobs rake against the inside of your head like nails on a chalkboard, your answer comes in the form of a furry friend trying and failing to burrow deeper into your clothes. Bingo!

Firmly grasping the hissing lump hiding under your FUR COAT, you begin the cumbersome process of peeling Stanley the Raccoon off of you! Like a fuzzy, hissing leech, the beast fights back by digging her claws into the GAMER SHIRT underneath your coat… and the skin below that! As you grit your teeth to drown out the pain, you slowly but surely feel the critter come loose–each claw peeling your flesh as if you were ripping off the world’s meanest bandage!

Denise barely notices as the raccoon slowly emerges from under your coat kicking and hissing like some kind of alien larva. Scrambling to keep hold of you–or more accurately the HALF-FINISHED JAM JAR she wedged into your waistband, Stanley lets loose with one last ‘REEEEEE’ before being slingshotted off of your pasty stomach and into Denise’s blubbering face!

B-WHUH?!

The critter’s velocity sends both of them tumbling head over heels, eventually rolling to a stop further down the corridor. Seeing her chance for revenge, the raccoon sends a haughty hiss your way before darting for the safety of your coat!

But it’s too late.

Snatching the cuddly critter up with the speed of a chameleon’s tongue, Denise hugs Stanley close as the poor creature struggles in vain to escape the deluge of sweat, snot, and tears.

D-d-did y-you kn-know th-that w-we almost h-had LAB RACCOONS i-instead of r-rats in the 20th Cen-century?” The scientist sobs as Stanley glares daggers at you with bulging eyes. “Th-they’re sm-smarter than they look…

Sure, you chuckle as you remove the JAM JAR from your pants and take a handful, and so are you! The color drains from the raccoon’s face as you take a bite of their treat–hey, you shrug with a mouthful of jam, yr snrshe, yre lrsh!

STANLEY WILL REMEMBER THAT.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5167295
The dork’s whining slowly dies down as she continues to cuddle the ball of fuzzy rage currently unable to get a good enough angle to claw her face off. Wiping a few tears off on the creature’s matted fur (to its immense displeasure), Denise makes a valiant attempt to give you an appreciative smile.

I-I’m a m-mess, a-aren’t I?” She mutters, still trembling on the floor. Sure are! “I d-don’t even kn-know what t-to do… h-hearing that Talbie is s-safe again m-makes me…” Denise pauses to sob a few more times. “S-s-SO HAPPY… B-b-but kn-knowing th-that I d-did this t-to him…” The scientist looks you in the eyes as she strokes the raccoon’s tear-soaked head. “Y-you’ve t-traveled with h-him, Stan… D-do you th-think I sh-should even b-bother trying t-to g-get close to him again?

You brow furrows subconsciously. What does she mean by ‘get close’, exactly?

W-well…” Denise stammers, cheeks turning a shade of red generally reserved for ketchup, “D-

The awkward conversation is thankfully cut short by the sound of something leathery flapping overhead! Leaping backwards into a combat stance, you grit your teeth as Ly confirms what you already know:

“D-DA’ BAT! It’s BACK!
https://youtu.be/S7WWmhgRgDo
Clad in adorably-tiny bandages and a miniature cold pack, THE BAT swoops towards you with a menacing ‘SKREEEEEE!

ROLL 1d100 TO PROTEC’ YA’ NECK! AGAIN! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! WRITE-IN COUNTER-ATTACKS IF YOU’VE GOT ‘EM!
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5167298
>>>
PROTECT YA NECK
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>5167298
Alright, bitch. I can see you didn't learn your lesson the first time.

Spin kick the wannabe-bird.
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>5167298
>>
>>5167316
>>5167326
>>5167361
>HIGHEST ROLL: 97!!!!

BAT'll do it! Writing!
>>
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BAT’S enough of that, thank you very much! You’re already airborne by the time Denise starts shrieking in abject horror. Twirling in the air like a Canadian Fur Trader-turned Ballerina, you deliver a SPIN KICK that could shatter bones into the mammalian menace’s toothy mug and send it flying into the nearby wall with a definitive CRUNCH!

“It ain’t garlic or a cross,” Ly chuckles as you watch the flapping fiend slide to the floor, “but dat’ oughta’ do it!”

You hope so, you hiss as you give the bat’s limp form another kick for good measure, you can’t keep giving these lessons out for free, after all!

St-stupendous! Denise gushes, clutching the raccoon close to her chest, “Th-the bunker appears t-to be developing its own ECOSYSTEM… U-unless s-someone’s been keeping bats as p-pets, that is!

That’s stupid, you growl, a bat’s a wild animal–you can’t just keep it like a poodle or whatever! By the way, you add, is she done with your pet raccoon? You wanna see if you can teach her a few tricks!

O-oh, r-right…” Denise mutters apologetically as she releases her chokehold on Stanley. Slumping to the floor with twitching eyes and shallow breath, the woodland creature barely protests as you pick her up by the scruff of her neck and deposit her on your shoulder. Welp, you shrug, earning a halfhearted hiss from your passenger, guess that’s that, huh?

One m-moment, Stan…” Denise mutters as she strokes her chin in contemplation, “W-weren’t we d-discussing something? T-to be honest, th-the BAT com-completely derailed my tr-train of thought…” The scientist surrenders with a defeated sigh. “I’m n-not cut out f-for these s-sudden confrontations… I sh-should have ta-taken that c-cushy j-job at F-FUTURELABS…

Woulda’ saved you from a headache or two, that’s for damn sure!

“Gotta’ love their commercials, though!” Ly says with a smile in his voice! “Catchy!”

Anyways, it looks like you might have saved yourself from a WEIRD CONVERSATION! Perhaps you should use this to your advantage?

What say ye?
>SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT HER AND… EUUUUGH… ‘TALBIE’...
>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>SHE WAS GOING TO TELL HER THOUGHTS ABOUT THE REST OF THE CREW!
>NOPE, YOU WERE GOING TO HEAD OUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5167423
>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>>
>>5167423

>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>>
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janky shit with some SOVL
>>
Gonna hold off on this until WEDNESDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST-- getting late on my end and I'm dog tired! Should have more tomorrow, though, so I'll see you then!

>>5167551
ZAP!
>>
>>5167423
>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>>
>>5167423
>>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>>
>>5167423
>YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT TRAITORS, ACTUALLY–IS SHE ONE!?
>>
>>5167606
>>5168222
>>5168223
>TRAITORSSSS

Writing!
>>
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Back in command of the conversation, you lunge right for the throat--actually, you snarl, there IS something you wanted to talk about!

"O-okay..." Denise responds as a worried look forms on her tear-streaked face. "B-but c-could we go somewhere e-else? I th-think there might be m-mold in here an-"

You've got BIGGER PROBLEMS, you shout! Starting with A TRAITOR! Is she one?

The scientist nearly falls over from the suddenness of your question! "T-t-T-TRAITOR?!" She stammers in disbelief!

Yes, you reply, 'T-t-T-TRAITOR!' is it her?! Scrambling for a proper response, Denise performs an impromptu dance of panicked gestures and noises before settling on something vaguely understandable: "N-n-NO! O-of course not, St-Stan!"

Damn, you growl as you shake your fist in annoyance, why isn't anyone confessing?!

"I'm no expert, cupcake, but I think da' lack of CONCRETE EVIDENCE might be makin' things tricky..." Ly postulates inside your head. You were kinda hoping they'd, y'know, crack under pressure or something!

"S-so it's true then, h-hm?" Denise remarks as you argue with your bones. "I s-suspected as much wh-when I was arrested... Th-the interrogators w-were asking me about th-things like that..."

You feel a headache forming as you look at the dweeb's contemplative face. What 'things', exactly?

"B-b-background knowledge of s-some of th-the gang..." Denise mutters, still shivering like a wet dog. "R-recent activities... th-those kinds of things." Running through them in her head, she looks to you with a pleading look in her spectacled eyes. "B-but I h-haven't been in c-contact with anyone, s-so I didn't tell them m-much, honest!"

Holding your snarling RACCOON in front of her sweaty face, you ask what, exactly, she told them!

"AAUGH! J-just wh-what you were up t-to, is all! I s-said you were g-going to JOPLIN! Th-that's it!" Blurting out her defense, Denise sinks a bit as something else comes to mind. "A-and, erm... p-personal details..."

WHOSE?! Shaking Stanley in the nerd's face proves to be very effective--barely a second goes by before Denise responds in rapid fire succession! "Y-you've gotten quite sk-skilled at combat! A-Art and Sybil a-are, w-well, CLOSE! S-Sybil pr-practices m-magic and h-has a temper! M-Mitzi l-likes to p-play jokes on people!Talbie r-really doesn't l-like GOOD BOY!"

"They're lookin' for motives, huh?" Ly remarks as the dweeb continues rattling off factoids about you and your pals, "A biz' like GOOD BOY oughta' have a lot of enemies..."

Yea, you nod, but that doesn't tell you who's been sabotaging things and KILLING important people around town, does it?!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5168618
Speaking of, you continue with a grim look on your face, how exactly is SHE exempt from suspicion anyways? You didn't exactly see that SECURITY FOOTAGE that guard mentioned!

"W-w-we can go back and ask!" Denise squeaks with a nervous grin on her face! "I've g-got nothing to hide, Stanley--e-except for th-those chemicals, b-but you saw how that went! H-haha! OOPS!"

You'll keep that in mind, you growl before taking another handful of JAM from the jar. What about her motives, though? She's, like, one day away from going postal… EVERY DAY. AND she was in cahoots with TIM when you found her!

"Th-that w-was out of s-self-preservation!" Denise sputters! "Y-you s-saw wh-what they did to my c-colleagues! I'd b-be a m-mutant too i-if I didn't play along!"

"Very convenient dat' she's da' only survivin' member, huh?" Ly remarks, causing your brow to furrow even more! Yea, you reply, it IS convenient!

"B-b-B-but I helped you, r-right?!" Denise asks in an increasingly-shaky voice! "T-Talbie b-became an ally b-because of me, a-and I even h-helped you f-foil GENERAL HAWKES' p-plans..."

Sure, you shrug, but she was also in CLOBBERING RANGE. Wouldn't be very smart of her if she didn't cooperate, right?

"Th-then I c-could have commanded T-Talbot t-to eliminate y-you all wh-when we were escaping the l-lab!" The scientist counters! "O-or r-ran off w-with the v-van wh-when you lent it to me! Th-think about it!"

Sure, you sigh, but she was sharing the van with KIKI, and you've seen how vicious that girl can be, both with AND without a gun!

"T-true..." Denise nods in a defeated tone. "I d-don't know what to s-say, Stanley... Th-the Lich n-never mentioned anything a-about t-traitors i-in those meetings of his... I kn-know it w-was foolish t-to work for th-the skeletons, b-but, well..."

You return Stanley to your shoulder and plant your hands on your hips expectantly. Well?

"N-not all of us a-are fighters l-like you..." She whimpers. "I d-don't know wh-who these TRAITORS are, b-but I c-can help you catch them... I o-owe you all th-that much..."

Hold up, you growl, raising your hand for her to stop, what the heck does she mean by TRAITOR"S"? Gotcha!

>CONTD.
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>>5168622
"W-well it's o-obvious, r-right?!" Denise asks defensively! "Th-there's no way they could be w-working alone, r-right? E-even if yo-you were a MASTER H-HACKER or a T-TRAINED SA-SABOTEUR, i-it would take a-at least two people t-to not a-arouse suspicion, r-right?

The thought had certainly crossed your mind, yea–it would certainly make things easier for these TRAITORS if they could cover for one another.

“Still doesn’t make it any easier ta’ ferret ‘em out though, does it?” Ly asks, earning an exasperated shake of your head. No, you grumble, no it doesn’t.

I-If you r-really think that there’s an imposter Among Us,” the scientist begins, “Th-then there a-are ways t-to g-get evidence…

EW, you hiss in disgust, you’re not gonna BANG anyone on the team!

… probably!

OF C-C-COURSE NOT!” Denise shrieks, recoiling at the very thought! “I m-meant I could c-create some B-BUGS if y-you like…

You answer her with a flick to the forehead! What’s her deal, anyways!? First she’s implying you sleep with your pals, and now she’s gonna make some CREEPY CRAWLIES?

N-no… d-dang it..” She mutters, gingerly rubbing her forehead, “I meant l-l-LISTENING BUGS. You just at-attach them to the t-target, th-then listen to their c-conversations!” Denise explains, punctuating her statement with a sheepish grin!

Yea, you grunt after giving her a long, hard stare, she’s definitely the CREEPIEST member of the gang… you hate to admit it, you continue, rubbing your chin in thought, but those would certainly come in handy… But where would she get ‘em?

W-well I could m-make them in the PR-PRIVATE BUNKER…” She replies in an apologetic tone. “B-but th-that would take a little t-time… A-and if someone found out or was wrongly ac-accused, well…

It’d create some waves, that’s for damn sure. Still, if there’s someone trying to screw you over from the inside, well… you pause to give the sweaty scientist an appraising look.

Maybe the risk is worth it.

D-do y-you tr-trust me?

Well?
>NO, BUT MAKE THOSE BUGS ANYWAYS!
>NO, AND YOU’RE GOING BACK TO JAIL! CHANGED MY MIND, DWEEB!
>YES, BUT FORGET THE BUGS!
>YES, NOW MAKE WITH THE SPYCRAFT ALREADY!
>SUPLEX HER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5168625
>>NO, BUT MAKE THOSE BUGS ANYWAYS!
>>
>>5168625
>YES, NOW MAKE WITH THE SPYCRAFT ALREADY!

She doesn't have to know if we actually DON'T trust her. Just tell her what she'll want to hear.
>>
>>5168625

Switching to >>5168659
>>
>>5168659
>>5168679
>YES, MAKE WITH THE SPYCRAFT!

Writing!
>>
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Not really, you reply in a rare use of your internal voice, but she doesn’t need to know that, does she?

“No,” Ly replies in an approving tone, “she doesn’t, does she?”

Giving the scientist the most convincing resigned sigh you can muster, you hold your hand out to her and let a warm smile slowly form on your face. “Yes,” you reply, yes you do.

S-S-Stanley…” Denise whispers in awe, “I…. I don’t know what to say…

She doesn’t need to say anything, you grin! She just needs to hook you up with those BUGS! Clasping your hand between two sweaty gloves, the scientist frantically shakes it with an unsettling, arrhythmic giggle!

P-P-PARTNERS!” She exclaims as a fresh stream of tears leaks from her eyes! “D-D-Don’t worry, Stan–I w-won’t let you d-down!” As Denise gives you a stiff salute, you respond with an even bigger smile–yes, you think to yourself, that oughta’ do it…

W-w-well then what are we waiting for!?” Denise asks as she shuffles towards the exit, “If y-you can d-distract th-the others for a little bit, I sh-should be able to grab the ingredients f-for the LISTENING BUGS…

And then all you’ll have to do is flick ‘em onto someone and listen, right? Sounds almost too easy!

W-well you’ll h-have to acquire a R-RECEIVER, of c-course…” The scientist responds excitedly. “N-never fear: D-Doctor Venaas w-will pr-provide!” Pausing in front of the door, her cheerful enthusiasm diminishes somewhat as her hand clasps the doorknob. “Th-though I’m not sure h-how many I’ll be able t-to make… I s-suppose we’ll h-have to see, yes?

You suppose you will, you grunt as you join her by the exit. Giving the MAINTENANCE CORRIDOR one last look-around, your heart skips a beat as your gaze meets the resting place of THE BAT on the floor…

And finds it EMPTY!
https://youtu.be/pT4FY3NrhGg
>CONTD.
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>>5168720
Stan?” Denise asks, wrenching your mind free of the startling realization, “D-did you f-forget something?

You forgot to DOUBLE-TAP, apparently, but now that she mentions it, did you? You know your pals won’t be going anywhere without you–but are you ready to risk bugging one or more of them?

>ACTUALLY, YOU HAVE SOMETHING ELSE YOU WANNA ASK HER IN PRIVATE…
>LET’S BUG THOSE FRIENDS! TO THE PRIVATE BUNKER!
>HOLD ON, CHUM–WANNA HIT UP THE ARENA?
>YOU CAN’T SPY ON PEOPLE WITH AN EMPTY STOMACH–-TO THE CANTEEN!
>YOU REALLY OUGHTA APPRAISE THESE PEARLS YOU HAVE–TO THE BAZAAR!
>WRITE-IN
>>
>>5168721
>>LET’S BUG THOSE FRIENDS! TO THE PRIVATE BUNKER!

The more we interact with Denise, the more I'm convinced she's not the traitor... she might be a genius, but she's way too obtuse to be faking-- and too eager to please. Like an anon said in the last thread, couple that with no motive and we can basically filter her out.
>>
>>5168721
>LET’S BUG THOSE FRIENDS! TO THE PRIVATE BUNKER!

>>5168738
Probably, but better safe than sorry. For all we know, the traitor might not even be one of our friends. But Mitzi is the next suspect. Let's go subtly interrogate her. Sybil already accused her of being a traitor when Art died the first time. And frankly, the circumstances were suspicious.
>>
>>5168738
>>5168740
>TO THE FRIENDS!
Writing the last update of the night!
>>
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No, you mutter with a casual shake of your head, you were just remembering something funny! Responding with an encouraging smile, Doc Venaas steps aside as you shove the door open with a dull creak! They really oughta grease that hinge!

Emerging into the MAIN SHAFT, your eyes adjust just in time to notice a maintenance worker sweeping a handful of litter into a dustpan a few feet in front of your exit. Sparing you both a passing glance, the cleaner deposits the garbage into a trash bag before fading into the crowd whistling a jaunty tune.

Creepy.

Y-yea…

The trip to ADMIN LEVEL is uneventful save for the crowds of VOLUNTEER SCOUTS and refugees lining the path like concert-goers waiting for a Port-O-Potty to open up. Sidestepping a few of the more animated individuals, your surroundings quiet down a bit when you pass through the beehive that is ADMIN and reach the tunnels leading to your PERSONAL BUNKER.

“Cripes,” Ly remarks as you fumble with your KEYCARD, “I know it’s a crisis an’ all, but I’m startin’ ta’ miss how quiet it is topside… an’ less crowded…”

Well get ready, buttercup, because there’s gonna be plenty of noise inside… As the front door pops open with a pleasant ‘ding’, the silence in the corridor is shattered by the raucous sound of revelry inside your new residence–you barely have to take two steps beyond its threshold before you hear practically all of your dumbass friends!

Being in the FOYER, you don’t exactly see any of them, but the rest of your senses provide plenty of hints:

The scent of something cooking in the KITCHEN tickles your nostrils, along with the sound of a familiar laugh–SYB’S–no doubt about it.

Up ahead in the GAME ROOM you hear the sound of pool balls clacking together along with the unmistakable sound of TALBOT braying and ART’s classic groan.

Craning your ears above it all, you can just barely hear the sound of water running–on instinct you glance towards your MASTER BEDROOM AND THE TUB INSIDE, but further listening tells you that the sound is coming from the POOL AREA you failed to check out last time you were here… along with the faint sound of a girl’s bored voice… MITZI?

E-erm… I’ll j-just head to the LAUNDRY ROOM, then…” Denise whispers, awaiting your approval.

Where should you head FIRST?
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT’S COOKIN’?
>GAME ON! LET’S GO TO THE GAME ROOM!
>MASTER BEDROOM! IF SOMEONE TOOK YOUR STUFF…
>POOL! A DIP SOUNDS REFRESHING!
>FOLLOW DENISE–YOU CAN BE HER LOOKOUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5168809
That's it for tonight, folks, and I can't promise another update until FRIDAY AROUND 3-4PM PST! Might get a small update in on THURSDAY, but I'll be busy so no promises!

As for the map above, assume you can slink over to wherever if your target room is past another one. Denise also has a habit of fading into the background, so no worries there either!

Thanks again for playing!
>>
>>5168809
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT'S COOKIN'?
I am torn between the kitchen, to speak with Syb, and the pool, to try and get some info out of Mitzi. But maybe we should hold off on that until we have a plan for easing the info out of her.
>>
>>5168829
To elaborate, I wanted to talk to Syb about the whole traitor issue.
>>
>>5168809
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT’S COOKIN’?

>>5168830
Kinda torn on whether or not we should let her know who we suspect right away... loose lips sink ships but she's also our bff... I'll let the next anons make the call.
>>
>>5168809
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT’S COOKIN’?
>>
>>5168809
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT’S COOKIN’?
>>
>>5168809
>THE KITCHEN! WHAT’S COOKIN’?
>>
>>5168841
Pretty sure Syb already knows about the whole traitor fiasco. Besides, she was the first one to accuse Mitzi of being a traitor. Which, now that I think about it, means Mitzi might even be aware of the whole situation. Also meaning that, if by chance she is the traitor, it'll be a lot harder to prove it. She'd be way more careful about it.

This is, again, IF she's the traitor. We can't just go full Salem Witch trials and accuse anybody we want.
>>
>>5168829
>>5168841
>>5168863
>>5168940
>>5169369
>THE KITCHEN!

Writing!
>>
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The nose knows, and if anyone can help you make sense of things, it’s Syb! Striding into the kitchen like you own the damn place (which, evidently, you DO), you arrive just in time to see Kiki working the stove while Tucker and Syb help out with… toppings?

“Stan!” Syb exclaims as she gives you a friendly wave, “I knew I sensed something–come in, please!”

“Keek’s making some soup!” Tucker adds as he finishes chopping a few carrots. “Thought we could all use something healthy for once…”

“Dat’ does smell pretty damn good…” Ly remarks as Kiki gives you a conspiratorial grin from next to the stockpot. Evidently your new pet agrees, too–before you can respond to any of the kitchen’s occupants, STANLEY bursts from your coat like an alien from that one movie you still get nightmares from and bolts for the soup with evil intent! STOP THEM, you screech!

“W-which one?!” Tucker asks as Syb fires a volley of MAGIC DARTS at the scurrying mammal! Before you can retort, the raccoon is stopped dead in her tracks by a paring knife embedding itself in the floor just in front of her! Frozen with fear, Stanley trembles in abject horror as CHEF KIKI looms over the beast with a handful of similar knives and a menacing glint in her bang-covered eyes! Slowly recovering from the initial shock, Tucker and Syb relax a bit as Kiki returns to her work.

“I see you’ve adopted… another stray…” The Goth mutters as her ARCANE PROJECTILES fizzle out of existence. Yea, you nod with pride–her name’s Stan! And if anyone so much as thinks of making any cute remarks, you’re gonna clock ‘em!

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Tucker replies a little too quickly. “Can’t speak for Ed though. Or T.”

You’ll deal with that punk in due time, you growl, turning your attention from the catatonic forest critter to your purple-haired pal. Syb, you bark, you’ve got stuff to talk about. Let’s go.

“Stuff?” She replies, not responding to your snapping fingers, “Certainly–shall we go to your room?”

She catches on quick! Snatching up your raccoon statue by the scruff of its neck, you give Tucker and Kiki a lazy wave before leading your bestie out of the room!

“We’ll be here if you need us!” Tucker reminds you as Kiki brandishes a blade at your pet. Bypassing the sound of pool balls clicking and Talbot growling, the three of you (four if you include Ly) make your way down the hall to your MASTER SUITE. Home Sweet Home!

“Tell me about it…” Ly agrees in a weary tone.

>CONTD.
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>>5170843
“Here we are again…” Sybil mutters as she flops onto your CUSHY BED! “I trust those meetings were fruitful?”

You could say that, you reply as you quietly shut and lock the door behind you. Feels like everyone’s taking you for a ride! Sliding down the wall to the floor, you emphasize your response with a tired sigh–things are getting complicated, Syb.

“They usually do…” She says with a concerned look on her pale face. “I assume you want to discuss them?”

Always the mind reader, this one… Scuttling over to the bed, you climb in next to your pal and take a moment to relish the feeling of an actual mattress underneath you–man, this is much more comfortable than… erm…

“... wherever you stayed last night?” Sybil finishes with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Watch it, punk!

“I’ll be careful.” She giggles as she gives your hair a gentle tousle! “Speaking of, would you mind… stowing... that beast of yours?” Her friendly smile morphs into a look of disdain. “I sense DARK FORCES at work within her…”

STANLEY responds with a venomous hiss from the safe confines of your FUR COAT–guess she’s calmed down from the Kiki Fiasco. Shoving the raccoon’s head back into your clothes, you give Sybil a thumb’s up!

“... It’ll do.” She groans, clearly not convinced that it will indeed ‘do’. “What’s on your mind, Stan?”

Where the hell do your start?
>REMEMBER WHEN WE ACCUSED MITZ OF BEING A TRAITOR? WHAT ARE HER THOUGHTS ON THAT?
>A LOT OF FOLKS THINK THERE MIGHT BE A TRAITOR… OR TRAITORS… AROUND…
>SO DR. DEVON WAS WORKING ON A REGENERATION SERUM–YOU STOPPED HIM, THOUGH!
>ANY THOUGHTS ON THE NEXT MOVE?
>WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON AROUND HERE, ANYWAYS?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5170846
>A LOT OF FOLKS THINK THERE MIGHT BE A TRAITOR… OR TRAITORS… AROUND…
>HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING, IF THERE WAS A TRAITOR AROUND HERE, WHO'D YOU THINK IT WOULD BE?
>WHAT’S BEEN GOING ON AROUND HERE, ANYWAYS?
>>
>>5170846
>REMEMBER WHEN WE ACCUSED MITZ OF BEING A TRAITOR? WHAT ARE HER THOUGHTS ON THAT?
More specifically, on anybody involved. We can go over the whole Denise interrogation with her, and the plan to possibly use a couple wires if we think we have a solid suspect.
>>
>>5170884
Actually, for the sake of speeding things along, and the fact that nobody else seems to be around at the moment, I'll just go ahead and back this. So scrap this >>5171011.
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>>5170884
+1ing this
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>>5170884
>>5171015
>>5171026
>TRAITORS!
>ALSO HOW ARE YOU GUYS DOING?

Writing!
>>
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You’re not exactly eager to broach the whole ‘traitor’ thing just yet, so you opt to take a detour! you’ve been gone for a while–what’s the gang been up to while you were T.C.O.B?

“Well,” Syb begins, “W-”

T.C.O.B meaning ’TAKIN’ CARE OF BIDNESS,’ that i-

“I know what it means, Stan.” Syb interjects, clearly not amused by your interruption. “And to answer your question, not too much, I’m afraid…”

SLACKERS, you shout, prompting STANLEY to bolt from under your coat and skitter for the crack behind the TV STAND! So they’ve just been GOOFING OFF while you sat through, like, twenty meetings!? Is this what it feels like to be a parent?!

“You can’t really blame them–the team’s been through quite a bit in the past few days.” Syb argues as she rubs her temples. “Not all of us are rejuvenated by MAGICAL MARROW, you know.”

You feel the FLASK OF MARROW SERUM jostle around in your pocket. No, you mutter, no you aren’t…

“In any case,” Sybil continues, “When you went to meet your employer, we were approached by those ridiculous robe-wearing ORDER creeps.” A disgusted look creeps across Syb’s face as you flash back to the last time Curt’s cronies cornered you in an alley.

“Buncha’ kooks…” Ly states, earning a nod from both you and Syb. Couldn’t agree more!

“They didn’t stay long, thankfully. Apparently we’re invited to some kind of GALA they’re throwing this evening after successfully reinforcing the BARRIER around this bunker.” Syb punctuates her sentence with a practiced eyeroll. “Exciting, I know.”

You respond with a shrug. It COULD be, you retort! Think of all the mischief!

“Now that would be worth the price of admission…” The Goth admits as a devious grin forms on her face. “B-but we’re too busy, Stan, and for all we know Curt is expecting us to make fools of ourselves…” And just like that the smile is gone. “Not to mention ’YOU-KNOW-WHO’ will most definitely be there…”

Your fist starts shaking before she even finishes. BORIS!

“We have far bigger things to deal with, Stan.” Syb sighs with a shake of her head. “But if you do decide to attend, I’m going. That’s final.”

After how entertaining she was at the saloon last night, how could you not?

“Urgh… I didn’t make too much of an embarrassment of myself, did I?”

You uh… you plead the filth…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5171157
“Be that way.” She huffs, crossing her arms with a mock pout on her face. “Anyways, once we arrived here, everyone more or less fell about the place.” She explains, counting off the team on her pale fingers. “Artie and Talbot retired to the GAME ROOM after mentioning something about ‘GUY TALK…’ Eurgh.”

She can say that again! And you still have to talk to that big doofus, too!

“Condolences. Mitzi ran off to the POOL–She’s difficult to read at the best of times, but if I had to guess I’d assume she went to clear her head.”

So she’s there all alone, huh? That could help a bit!

“Well, no…” Sybil counters with a shake of her head, “Eddie wandered in after her some time later. They’ve been splashing, shouting, and laughing ever since.”

“Dat’ kid…” Ly hisses under his breath. Seriously!

“You certainly can’t fault either of them for enthusiasm…” Sybil shrugs. “As for myself, I joined Kiki and Tucker in the KITCHEN after testing my POWERS again–my offensive capabilities are sterling as ever, but CLAIRVOYANCE has continued to be less than useful.” She turns your way to give you an apologetic look. “I suppose it’s by design–we wouldn’t want the lich peeking inside, would we?”

Now that she mentions it, you segue, squirming uncomfortably on your bed, a lot of the folks you talked to today think there might still be uh… a TRAITOR around. Maybe even TRAITORS. And they might be people you know! Checking on Syb’s reaction, you watch as The Goth slowly sinks deeper into the mattress.

“I knew they’d bring that up. I just knew it…” Looking you in the eyes with a pained expression, Sybil leans in a bit closer and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Who’s aware of the situation?

Well you, of course, and Ly… There’s BLUMENKRANTZ, BORIS, CHRISTY-

“Sorry, who?”

Christy, you repeat, the girl you apparently mangled at the CHRISTMAS PARTY? Turns out she’s your GOOD BOY LIAISON, too.

“That explains the mechanical voice…” Sybil remarks, eyes wide in surprise. “I can’t imagine that meeting was a pleasant one.”

It went a helluva lot better than you expected it would! Heck, she’s not entirely convinced that you did it either, so that’s a good thing, right? Syb answers by wrapping you in a surprise hug!

“It’s a great thing, Stan.” She says with a caring smile. “But wait a minute…”

Yea, you nod, lingering in the hug for a few extra seconds, it smelled funny to her too–she thought that whoever messed with the security footage you watched might be the same ‘traitor’. Or ‘traitors’..

“Normally I wouldn’t put stock in coincidences like this, Stan, but you might be right.”

Errr... cool?

>CONTD.
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>>5171158
Right? The whole thing smells fishy to you, too! Even Denise thought it was odd, an-

“Denise?” Syb asks, wrinkling her nose at the sound of her name. “I knew I detected a change in the bunker’s humidity levels… You saw her?”

You friggin’ bailed her out, you groan as you glance towards the door! She’s not eavesdropping, right Ly?

“Nope.” Your skeleton dutifully reports. “Been checkin’ dis’ whole time!”

Super.

“Your decisions haven’t killed us yet, Stan,” The Goth begins with a worried look on her face, “but are you certain that’s a good idea?”

No, you spit, but that’s why you wanted to get Syb in on the loop! Dr. Dork thinks that whatever’s going on can’t be done with just one person! Digesting your explanation with a thoughtful rub of her chin, The Goth raises a pierced eyebrow your way. “I mean… It would make sense, wouldn’t it? After what we saw in the DEAN’S VILLA…

Yea, you frown, and that’s what worries you: if they could slice n’ dice the Dean in his MAGICAL SECURITY SYSTEM THING, what kind of crazy bastards are we dealing with?

“Smart ones.” Sybil huffs. “And ones that know what we’re capable of.”

Well, you shrug, your boss SONNY… or SUNNY… is pretty darn paranoid about it. You’re not even sure why they decided to meet with you-

“Hold on, Stan,” Sybil interjects, “You MET them?”

Well, yea, you scoff, who haven’t you run into today?

“Stanley, you met with SONNY BRUCKMANN JR–that… that just doesn’t happen, does it?”

Well it did, you counter, and they were even weirder in person! They were in a wheelchair and hooked up to this GAS MASK and they fed you lobster-

“Curious…” Sybil frowns. “I hope you know you met a ghost, Stanley.”

G-G-g-G-g-GHOST?!?

“Not that kind…” The Goth groans as your sudden shout sends your raccoon scampering into the BATHROOM! “I mean they don’t really make appearances, Stan. I suppose now we know why…”

Yea, you nod, you think they made an announcement at the CHRISTMAS PARTY back in the day, but it was over a speaker or something…

“In any case, we also know that they’ve had dealings with that CULT in the past…” Sybil sighs, rubbing her head in frustration. “I’d be careful of what they say, Stan.”

Yea, you huff, about that…

>CONTD.
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>>5171159
“Let me guess:” The Goth interrupts, “You want me to tell you who I think it is.”

All you can do is blink in response. She’s good at that! H-hey, what are you thinking about right now?

“Not now, Stan–focus, please.”

Spoilsport.

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on everyone on the team.” Syb explains. Especially Art, you mutter with a snicker!

“Shut UUUP!” She laughs, smacking you with a nearby pillow! “A-anyways, I don’t readily believe any of our friends could have done it. Emotional attachments aside, we’ve never been out of each other’s sight for too long–if there truly was a saboteur on the team, someone would have noticed, right?”

Maybe? It’s hard to be sure about this crap…

“Agreed… there’s also the high probability of MULTIPLE CONSPIRATORS to consider–that makes things a bit trickier.”

You feel your face scrunch up in annoyance. So that’s it, huh? No suspects? She’s supposed to be the smart one, damn it!

“... You know what happened the last time I accused someone.” Sybil replies in a quiet voice. “I nearly killed Mitzi back when we thought Art was gone, Stan–and that’s not even the worst part.” Turning to give you a haunted stare, The Goth’s voice cracks a bit as she continues: “It was really only… only a coin flip that saved her, you know? Wh-when you wandered off, I just… just lost control…”

Memories of your narrow escape from the FOREST OUTPOST rush through your head like snapshots. She’s right–after you wandered into the woods you didn’t see her again until after she had torn apart an entire research base full of skeletons!

“I’m bowing out of making baseless accusations, Stan.” The Goth states in a firm tone. “Does what happened up there completely absolve Mitzi? No. Do I have enough evidence to suspect anyone? Not even close.”

Her brow furrows further. “But if you want help in finding said evidence… I’m yours.”

A weary sigh escapes your lips. It’s not exactly the answer you wanted, but it’ll do. For now, at least.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you confided in me.” Syb says as her expression softens. “I’m sorry, Stan–I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

Yea, well, when is it EVER easy, huh?

>CONTD.
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>>5171160
“Right,” Sybil says with a steadying breath, “Was um… was there anything else you wanted to discuss?” The Goth pauses to stare at your JOPLIN GEAR. “You might want to consider changing, Stan. You’re starting to smell like-” Your pal pauses as she catches a whiff of you. “... Cinnamon?

Yea, you grin, picked it up from that WEIRD TOTEM MENDOZA had! Not bad, huh?

“No,” Sybil mutters with a conflicted look on her face, “but take care, Stan–they say DEMONS love cinnamon…”

That’s stupid. Next topic!

>ACTUALLY, THAT’S ALL FOR NOW! GOOD TALK!
>SO THE BOSS USED THIS FUNNY DEVICE ON ME–MIGHT BE RELATED TO THOSE BLACKOUTS!
>ABOUT THAT GALA…
>HOW ARE YOU AND ‘ARTIE’ DOING, HUH?
>ANY IDEAS ON HOW TO GET DIRT ON POSSIBLE TRAITORS?
>SO DR. DEVON WAS WORKING ON A REGENERATION SERUM–I STOPPED HIM, THOUGH!
>ANY THOUGHTS ON THE NEXT MOVE?
>WRITE-IN!

That's all for tonight, folks--getting kinda sleepy on my end. Should have more SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Thanks again for playing and Happy Weekend!
>>
>>5171162
>>ANY THOUGHTS ON THE NEXT MOVE?

I don't think we'll find the imposter until they make THEIR next move... best get moving.
>>
>>5171162
>ANY THOUGHTS ON THE NEXT MOVE?
>SO DR. DEVON WAS WORKING ON A REGENERATION SERUM–I STOPPED HIM, THOUGH!
>>
>>5171162
>SO DR. DEVON WAS WORKING ON A REGENERATION SERUM–I STOPPED HIM, THOUGH!
We'd ought to tell Syb about Little Stanley and the serum. Her line about sensing evil within the raccoon kind of confirmed my earlier fears. Her knowledge of magical mumbo jumbo might let her tell us just exactly what the risks of this serum are and what we can expect from it.

>SO THE BOSS USED THIS FUNNY DEVICE ON ME–MIGHT BE RELATED TO THOSE BLACKOUTS!
On that front, I want to see what she can divine from this, too. We need to figure out a counter to this thing and then destroy it. This tool is the worst thing, second only to the serum, to fall into the wrong hands. It is our hard counter. We have no defense against someone who might have the ability this device grants like a potential traitor who may have already used it on us at the Christmas party.

>>5171166
Speaking of next move, I was actually hoping to figure out that missing persons situation that's been going on, and with luck garner some clues about Mitzi's family while we're at it. The info we got said that it was usually small groups of GBCS that were ambushed and kidnapped. I bet we could have Mitz and Art, and maybe an extra goon or two we manage to hire on, pose in their armor to lure out the attackers.

We also still need to talk to Talbot about how much he remembers from his days as our very own Nemesis. He already owes us the explanation. He can't get away with it forever.
>>
>>5171166
>>5171216
>>5171221
>DEVON MADE A SERUM: 2
>NEXT MOVE: 2
>BOSS USED A DEVICE: 1

Looks like we're talkin' SERUMS and THE NEXT MOVE! Writing!
>>
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“Before we continue, I have to ask:” Sybil interjects as you peruse your lousy dialogue options, “The um… the pet-”

STANLEY, you growl as the pet in question hisses at you both from the dark recesses of the bathroom, Doc named her Stanley!

“... of course he did.” She mutters, watching two glowing eyes retreat into the shadows. “Far be it below me to question your decisions, Stan, lord knows it hasn’t helped before, but why exactly are you carting a woodland creature around underneath your shirt?” A scowl forms on her pale face. “... and why do I detect such strange energy coming from it? If this has something to do with THE FAE-

SHANNON had nothing to do with this, okay? It was all you! And Doc! Besides, you shrug, you’re cool now–she gave you a contract to sign and you sent it back to the drawing board! No harm no towel!

Despite your eloquent explanation, The Goth looks none too pleased with how you handled things… none too pleased at all.

“Stanley Parble:'' she states in a quiet, but firm tone, “What did I tell you about dealing with THE FAE?” Oh geez, she used your full name! Errr, you stammer, waiting for your layabout skeleton to assist, she uh… she said to… you know this one…

“To NOT DO IT!” Syb screeches, sending a frigid gust of air throughout the room! Stumbling over the side of the bed to escape her glowing blue eyes, you give her a plaintive smile from a safe(r) distance. Y-you weren’t gonna, you sputter, you just wanted some more MAGIC! A-and a few PONGOS!

“Stanley, do you understand the concept of a Faustian Deal?” Syb hisses angrily. Yea, you shrug, you get a free one if you order a Blammo-Sized Burger Combo at-

FAUSTIAN, Stan, not FROSTY-AN!” She snarls! “No matter what ‘revised contract’ you sign, you’re signing a deal with a capricious, amoral entity–a deal that will go wrong for you one way or another!”

You think you get it now–it’s like that anime with the girls that transform into frilly dresses, right? Bet Art loves that one! When Sybil doesn’t respond, you try again with a quiet ‘sorry’.

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5171887
“I… I know it sounds miniscule, Stanley,” The Goth sighs, rubbing her temples in frustration, “but these tasks they’re having you do–they might be part of a plot we can’t grasp yet. Regardless, we only stand to lose if you continue to parley with these beings, do you understand?”

You give your pal a nod–she makes a good point-

“Stanley.” She interjects, staring daggers into your eyes, “I need you to understand the gravity of the situation: if that entity tricks you… if that entity makes a deal with you… I won’t be able to help you.

The last statement sends a shiver down your spine. That’s… that’s not possible, right? She’s like, one of the most useful members of the team!

“It is possible.” She replies in a grave tone. “And this is your LAST WARNING, okay?”

“For da’ record: I had nothin’ ta’ do wit’ all dis-”

Can it, Ly–you wouldn’t be able to POSSESS THINGS or FLY AROUND if it wasn’t for th-

STAN!

AUGH! Y-yes, Syb! Understood!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5171891
“Fine.” She huffs, clearly not believing you, “Moving on: what can you tell me about this raccoon, then? And the Doctor?”

Well, you sigh as you cautiously clamber back onto the bed, LIL’ STANLEY over there was a test subject for a SERUM Devon was working on!

“I see…” Sybil remarks as she squints towards the bathroom. “So that hint of WILD MAGIC I detected… that’s from your marrow, correct?”

Yep, you nod, Doc was planning on using it to help wounded people recover, or something! It made STANLEY stronger, faster, and tougher, so you figured you’d take her along!

“She an’ Stan are kindred spirits.” Ly adds, earning a poorly-stifled giggle from Syb. Laugh it up, asshole!

“Yes, I do see a few similarities…” She agrees with a wry grin. “But tell me about this SERUM, Stanley–can he produce much of it?”

Not anymore, you respond with a shake of your head, you had him trash it! Preemptively grabbing a pillow to defend yourself with, you’re instead treated to a HEADPAT OF APPROVAL! S-SCORE!

“You never cease to surprise me, Stan.” Sybil says with a smile. “Care to explain why you made that decision?”

Well for starters, you begin, Doc showed you something a little… freaky. Apparently WILD MAGIC isn’t the only thing floating around inside your blood…

“Let me guess:” Your friend sighs, “THE LICH.” Ding ding ding! “I suppose it’s only natural given all of the LIEUTENANTS you’ve absorbed… Did he notice anything peculiar?”

“Yea,” Ly answers, “apparently da’ stuff is growin’. Don’t feel nothin’ yet, but still…” His voice trails off.

“Then nothing’s changed, really.” Sybil states, shrugging her pale shoulders. “Whether THE LICH can hear and see everything we’ve done thus far, it matters not–there’s only one more LIEUTENANT left. And after that…”

After that, you conclude, the BIG CHEESE oughta’ be vulnerable enough to fight. Syb nods.

“Others might not share the same opinion, but you did the right thing destroying the SERUM.” Sybil adds. “THE LICH hasn’t taken control over you yet, but there’s no telling what his VITAE would do to anyone else…”

Shooting you an appraising look, Syb raises her pierced eyebrow in your direction. “Is it… is it all gone?”

How do you respond?
>LIE: YEP! ALL GONE!
>TRUTH: NOPE–YOU’VE GOT ONE LAST DOSE FOR A LUCKY CONTESTANT!
>DEFLECT: WAS IT EVER TRULY HERE? LIFE IS BUT A FLICKERING CANDLE IN THE WIND–IF NO ONE WAS THERE TO SEE IT, DID IT TRULY LIVE?
>PROBE: IF THERE WAS… WHO SHOULD YOU GIVE IT TO?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5171892
>TRUTH: NOPE–YOU’VE GOT ONE LAST DOSE FOR EMERGENCY HEALING!
>>
>>5171892
>>TRUTH: NOPE–YOU’VE GOT ONE LAST DOSE FOR EMERGENCY HEALING!
>>
>>5171892
>TRUTH: NOPE–YOU’VE GOT ONE LAST DOSE FOR EMERGENCY HEALING!
>>
>>5171892
>TRUTH: NOPE–YOU’VE GOT ONE LAST DOSE FOR A LUCKY CONTESTANT!
>>
>>5171912
>>5171935
>>5171938
>>5171972
>TRUUUUUUTH

Writing!
>>
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You can’t lie to those puppy dog eyes! Fishing out the last dose of DR. STAN’S CURE-ALL (PATENT PENDING) from your pocket, you dangle it in front of Syb’s pale face and shake it a bit. Nope, you answer, Doc left you one to use as you see fit! Pretty neat, huh?

“No,” Sybil replies, face scrunched up in disapproval, “it’s not. What if an enemy steals it?”

Then you’ll steal, uh… you’ll steal their life! What’s she worried about, anyways? It’s probably grow moss in your INVENTORY like the rest of the crap you pick up!

“I’m not sure…” She shrugs as she stares into the blue goo drifting around the tube like a lava lamp. “Part of me thinks you should give it to someone on the team, but who can say how they’ll react to injecting that into their veins?”

Good point, but hey–STANLEY’S been pretty well-behaved so far! What’s the worst that can happen-

Your argument is swiftly beheaded by the sound of something big, loud, and expensive crashing to the floor in your bathroom followed by the skittering of tiny claws along the linoleum. Averting your eyes from Syb’s ‘told-ya-so’ look, you stuff the SERUM safely back into your pocket next to your ROCKET LAUNCHER. If you were gonna give it to someone, you segue, who should you give it to?

“Not to me, thank you–I can only imagine what that magical contamination would do to my abilities… I wouldn’t give it to Talbot either–I’m still not quite sure how that PEARL returned him to his, um… ‘human’ form, but a dose of MAGICAL BONE MARROW would probably only complicate things.”
“Da’ dope’s strong enough already–if it were me pullin’ da’ strings, I’d save it for someone more uh… mundane.”

“Ly’s right,” The Goth nods with a sheepish grin. “It would give them a boost while also leaving them, erm, manageable in case THE LICH tries anything.”

There’s also the chance of selling it to a drug company once this whole SKELETON THING blows over, but these dopes don’t have to know that! Heh heh heh!

“Let’s also try to work on not giving away our schemes with self-narration and villainous laughter, shall we?” Syb asks in a pointed tone. D’oh!

“By all means, work...” Ly groans. “Been tryin’ since PART 1…

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5172066
Serum safety stowed, you ask Syb what your next move should be–your plate just got MAD FULL, after all!

“It has, hasn’t it? Well TRAITOR or not, our mission remains the same: ELIMINATE THE LAST LIEUTENANT. It sounds callous, but that should be our focus.”

The SEA WITCH, huh? Hard to believe there’s only one left!

“An’ who da’ Hell knows what she’s hidin’ at da’ bottom of da’ sea…” Ly muses, earning a knowing nod from your Goth pal. “Did we ever confirm dat’ SEA DEMON was kaput?”

“No,” Sybil says with a frown, “we didn’t. And even with that landmark we found, a rampant demon won’t make the trek any easier…” She turns her blue eyes your way expectantly. “Have you decided what the plan is?”

Take a CHILL PILL! You haven’t even decided to take down the witch yet–what about those MISSING PEOPLE around the bunker, huh?

“I’m merely using what we know, Stan: we don’t know where the abductees are being taken, nor do we know who’s responsible.”

You’re betting on ALIENS, to be honest.

“Anyways, what we DO know is that the witch’s lackeys were seen at the NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM–it could be worth a look.”

Yea, yea, you say with a roll of your eyes, she just wants to GEEK OUT at all the exhibi-

Your deduction is cut off by a pillow to the face. OW, that almost hit your eye, damn it!

“Granted, but at the moment we only have a vague idea of where the witch’s lair is, and we have no way to safely ferry the entire team under the sea. Your SEA CLOAK might protect you, of course, but I can’t make everyone a fish, nor can I cast the spell again on a return trip. If we had POTIONS it might be a different story, but… Hm.”

Come on… do you really need everyone? You’ve basically soloed all of the bad guys so far!

“I’m merely offering my advice, Stan–it would certainly save time if you could reach ATLANTIS on your own, but there’s quite a few unknowns to consider.”

If it comes to that, you reply, you’ve got Ly! And Lil’ Stanley! Hell, maybe LUDWIG will show up again too!

Sybil immediately begins massaging her temples at the mention of your fish friend’s name. “I still refuse to believe that actually happened…”

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5172069
Before you can discuss the issue further, the sound of pool tables clattering across a table echoes throughout the bunker followed by an angry bellow!

“Gee,” Ly muses, “I wonder who won dat’ one…”

“I’d better go make sure Artie doesn’t get eviscerated…” Sybil says as she hops to her booted feet. “If there’s nothing else, Stan, I recommend you take advantage of this downtime while you can.” A troubled expression slowly forms on The Goth’s face. “I sense that we won’t have much of it once that SEA WITCH is disposed of…”

Ooh, spooky! In that case, you sigh,

>YOU HAD ONE MORE THING TO ASK HER! (WRITE-IN OR PROMPTS WILL BE PROVIDED IN NEXT UPDATE)
>YOU’VE GOTTA TRACK SOMEONE DOWN! OR CALL ‘EM! (WHO?)
>YOU SHOULD CHANGE INTO SOMETHING LESS… RUSTIC!
>YOU WANNA CHECK OUT THAT GALA, ACTUALLY! RALLY SOME TROOPS!
>TIME’S A-WASTIN–LET’S PREPARE TO HIT THE ROAD!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5172071
>YOU HAD ONE MORE THING TO ASK HER! (WRITE-IN OR PROMPTS WILL BE PROVIDED IN NEXT UPDATE)
show her the blackout device we just got
>>
Heading out for a few hours--probably won't be another update until LATER TONIGHT OR SUNDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5172084
>>5172071

supporting
>>
>>5172084
This.
>>
>>5172084
>>5172094
>>5172135
>PROBABLY SHOULDA JUST INCLUDED THAT IN THE LAST UPDATE, SHOULDN'T I?

Writing! Updates might be a bit sparse today, but we'll make shit happen!
>>
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Just one more thing! Rummaging through your pockets past your worrying amounts of ROCKET LAUNCHER AMMO, UNSTABLE CHEMICALS, AND MERMAID SMUT, your hand emerges once more with the MAGIC PINGING DEVICE you received from your boss. Care to take a gander at this, you ask as you wave it in Syb’s face.

“What is that?” She asks, squinting to examine the device in further detail with a quizzical look on her face. “I sense some MAGICAL ENERGY in the crystal, but…”

But nothing, you interrupt excitedly! Give it a shot! Shoving the device into Sybil’s hand, you motion for her to let ‘er rip towards your chest! Lips pursed in uncertainty, The Goth begrudgingly points the gizmo at you. “If this is some kind of sexual thing, Stan-”

For the last time, you growl, you’re SORRY about that! But this–this is totally different! And not sexual at all, so get with the clicking alre-

And just like that, you find yourself shot forward a few seconds in time where Syb is staring at you with a bored expression! Well?

“Well what?” She asks, clearly eager to get back to the others. “Your eyes twitched a little bit, but-”

But NOTHING, you hiss! You just blacked out again! You can’t remember the last few seconds at all! The boredom slowly lifts from your friend as she processes your words. “So…” she mutters as her train of thought rolls into the station, “You mean to tell me that I just caused one of your FUGUE STATES? On COMMAND?

Yep, you nod, pretty neat, right?

“NO!” Sybil exclaims as she nearly drops the device on the carpet! “W-well yes, but also no, but…I-If what you say is true, Stan, then that means… well, a LOT of things!”

Pointing the gewgaw at you once more, The Goth sticks her tongue out in determination. “Let’s try again. I’ll say… something... while you’re, well, ‘turned off’. When you reemerge, I want you to respond. You can repeat what I said, answer it if it’s a question, or something else. Do you understand?”

Sure, you shrug, but how will that prove anything? The Goth responds with a Cheshire grin. “Just trust me–I’ll say something effective.”

Well if she’s su

When you catch up again, you’re no longer on the bed. Instead, you find yourself leaning up against the bedroom door–Sybil appears to have made her way over to the bathroom entrance.

“Well?” She asks, spinning the device in her pale hand.

Errr, how do you respond to… to whatever she said?

“Sorry, cupcake, I’m clueless.” Ly mopes. Useless!

>ERR, YES!
>NO! NO WAY!
>MAYBE?
>42!
>SOMETHING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5173376
>>42!
It was math wasn't it
>>
>>5173376
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5173376
>LITERALLY "WRITE-IN!"
>>
>>5173376
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5173379
>MATH NERDSSS

>>5173388
>>5173513
>>5173547
>THE WRITE ANSWER!

Sorry, got sidetracked by errands! Writing!
>>
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Perusing your list of half-assed responses in your head, you go for broke and choose the most promising of the options:

WRITE-IN!

“Hm.” Sybil remarks as she studies you quietly. “Alright then.”

Come on, you beg, she can’t leave you hanging like that–did you win? Did you WIN?!

“Not entirely,” The Goth replies with a pitying look on her face, “In fact, your response has convinced me of two things: first, you’re right–this device does affect your cognitive abilities. Second: you really need to see a doctor after all this, Stan–your head, it’s-”

Yep, yep, yep, you interrupt, so what DID she say, anyways? Spill the beans!

“No.” She says with a devious grin! “I don’t wanna. Suffice it to say that the test worked–if you were cognisant at the time, you would have reacted much differently, I assure you.”

This bitch… No matter, you shrug, you’ll just get her drunk later and ask her then!

“It’s a date. Now then, where did you say you found this again?”

Like you said, you explain, your BOSS showed you it during your little brunch date–apparently THE ORDER whipped it up!

“Them again…” Sybil groans, shaking her pale fist in the air. “Well I suppose that makes sense–my opinions aside, Curt and his little entourage do have the resources and knowledge to craft something like this… not that it’s exceptionally difficult to produce, mind.”

You frown as you take a seat back on the bed. Sonny mentioned that, yea–said it was similar to a stud finder, or something!

“Mmmore along the lines of a dipstick in a car.” Sybil shrugs. Ha, dipstick! “Tools like these are generally used during the ENCHANTING PROCESS to determine how much magical energy an object absorbs.”

“You say dat’ like it doesn’t always work.” says Ly as you feel your head cock to the side. Yea!

“The process is by no means perfect given the materials enchanters work with…” Sybil explains. “There’s always a bit of ‘waste material’ in each enchantment--many believe that's why there's so much around us--but true artisans can minimize that leakage with the proper precautions.” She pauses to gesture at you. “But as you’re no doubt aware, WILD MAGIC doesn’t always follow the guidelines.”

Yea, you huff, it really peeves you off!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5173908
“But I digress,” Sybil sighs, “you didn’t come to me to learn trivia, did you?”

Not really, you shrug, but since when does she know so much about enchanting and crap? The Goth responds with a pointed stare.

’Episode 139: Enchantment Made Easy’. You video taped that episode, Stan.”

Well exCUUUUSE you for having BRAIN PROBLEMS! Plus you remember being really hungry that day, so your mind was stuck on food.

“No doubt. I’m glad you came to me with this, Stan, because I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news… you ready?”

Well-

“These devices are, to use the parlance of our times, a ‘dime-a-dozen’. That means that if anyone were to know what effect this magical pulse had on you, they could easily put something together with the right materials and a MeTube tutorial.”

Damn you, MeTube!

“The good news, however, is that we might be able to cobble together some PROTECTION. Nothing fancy, of course, but it should keep you safe from a blast or two.”

More than enough time to tear the user a new one, huh? Not bad, you reply with a satisfied nod, but how do you go about making some?

“That, unfortunately, isn’t as simple.” Sybil says with a frown. “I’d need several items to make an effective TALISMAN, not to mention some time. If you’re not too attached to this,” She continues, waving the MAGIC PULSE DEVICE around, “I could use its CRYSTAL as a catalyst… but I’d still require a CONTAINMENT PRISM and a PENDANT-

Oh, you interrupt, you mean these? Retrieving the MAGIC-STORING PRISM AND STRANGE AMULET from your pockets, you hold them in front of Syb’s surprised face. “Y-yes,” She mutters in disbelief, “those would be perfect, actually! If you allow me to use this crystal I should have it ready by the END OF THE DAY if I have enough time!”

In that case, you respond:

>SURE! DESTROY THE DEVICE AND TAKE THE CRYSTAL!
>NO–YOU CAN PROBABLY FIND A CRYSTAL SOMEWHERE ELSE!
>YOU’LL THINK ABOUT IT!

And whichever one you choose, what’s your next move?
>YOU’VE GOTTA TRACK SOMEONE DOWN! OR CALL ‘EM! (WHO?)
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT THESE DEVICES, SYBBIE!
>YOU SHOULD CHANGE INTO SOMETHING LESS… RUSTIC!
>YOU WANNA CHECK OUT THAT GALA, ACTUALLY! RALLY SOME TROOPS!
>TIME’S A-WASTIN–LET’S PREPARE TO HIT THE ROAD!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5173910
>SURE! DESTROY THE DEVICE AND TAKE THE CRYSTAL!

We don't really need a device that makes us crazy, but, if there's anywhere we can get another, it's probably with Curt's crew.

>>YOU SHOULD CHANGE INTO SOMETHING LESS… RUSTIC!
>>
>>5173910
>SURE! DESTROY THE DEVICE AND TAKE THE CRYSTAL!
>YOU SHOULD CHANGE INTO SOMETHING LESS… RUSTIC!
>>
Sorry folks, gonna put this off until MONDAY 11-12PM PST! Got plans for the rest of the night. Hope to see you then!
>>
>>5173979
>>5173929
These 'uns.
>>
>>5173910
NO–YOU CAN PROBABLY FIND A CRYSTAL SOMEWHERE ELSE!

Might be smart to let Syb keep that crystal as a counter if we ever get used to attack our allies while fugued
>>
>>5174197
Actually, that's a solid point. If one is used on us, then we have a way to undo it. I'm gonna switch to this. Keep the device on hand.
>>
Oh no! A tie! I'll check back in a bit--if no other votes have come in by then I'll do a tiebreaker roll.
>>
>>5174197
I'll vote for this.
>>
>>5174851
You just saved everyone from the TIE-BREAKER MONSTER, anon! Kudos to you!

After much deliberation...
>>5173929
>>5173979
>DESTROY THE DEVICE!

>>5174197
>>5174474
>>5174851
>SAVE THE DEVICE! FIND ANOTHER CRYSTAL!

And everyone voted to CHANGE SOME DAMN CLOTHES! Writing!
>>
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As you make to fork over the goods, a worrying thought bursts into your head like a coked-out rhinoceros at a wedding reception: this DEVICE, you begin in a curious tone, it can, like, flick you back on, right?

“Hm?” Sybil asks, raising an eyebrow your way. “Oh! Yes–that’s how I brought you back just now. Peculiar how that works, but-”

In that case, you interject, wouldn’t it be better to have someone hold onto it just in case someone tries to FLUKE you? Mulling over your suggestion, The Goth responds with a smile and a nod! “Good thinking, Stan! A MAGICAL CRYSTAL might be difficult to track down, but a hard counter to your blackouts more than makes up for it!” Rubbing her chin in thought, she gives you an appraising look as she asks her next question: “So who do you intend to entrust it to?”

>HER, DUH! BESTIES!
>YOU’RE NOT SURE (BUT YOU SECRETLY PLAN TO GIVE IT TO: WRITE-IN)
>YOU’LL FIGURE IT OUT LATER (PUT IT OFF FOR NOW)
>WHY, LIL' STANLEY OF COURSE! I CAN PROBABLY TRAIN HER, RIGHT?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5174893
>HER, DUH! BESTIES!
>>
>>5175011
>SYB!
Most of ya were hinting at it in your last vote, so I'll just take this for now. Writing!
>>
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Isn’t it obvious, you ask with a twinkle in your eye! HER, of course! She’s the one who knows the most about this magical hoodoo, plus you can always count on her to pull you out of the fire! Unless she goes berserk again… Or passes out… Or is too busy making out with Art…

Yea, now that you think about it-

NOPEDIBS” The Goth snaps, shoving the DEVICE down her sweater! If she thinks that’s gonna stop you, you growl, she’s got another thing coming!

“Focus, Stan. I don’t disagree with your decision, but I recommend you keep your eyes peeled for a MAGICAL CRYSTAL when we set out again–even the smallest protection can perform miracles-”

Relaaaax, will ya? You’ve got one more LIEUTENANT left and she sounds like a total NERD–how bad can things get? Sybil responds with a long, hard stare. Penny for her thoughts?

“... Art told me what happened in the MINES, Stan…” She replies as she crosses her arms over her chest. Oh. That.

“I won’t bother lecturing you anymore,” she says, glancing around the room as a concerned look appears on her face. “But I will say this:” Your bestie looks you square in the eyes, lips pursed as if holding something in. “Please, Stan… please be careful. If not for you, then for us?”

You can’t help but avert your eyes at her sudden concern. Jeez, you mutter under your breath, you have one little close call and everyone gets all sappy! Who asked them anyw-

Before you can finish your prickly rant, your friend wraps you in a warm embrace. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then.”

Fine, you grunt as The Goth presses your cheek against her chest, but no promises!

“Deal.” She giggles before releasing her hold on you! “Seriously though, Stan: change. You’re starting to resemble a dust bunny.”

You were getting to it, okay? Tromping over to the chest of drawers, you begin the slow process of rooting through them all for something to wear. Any suggestions before she runs off?

“Nothing too ostentatious, please–we want to defeat our enemies. Not dazzle them.”

Why not both, huh?! The purple-haired girl ducks out the door before you can get an answer. Hey!

>CONTD.
>>
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>>5175167
“Guess dat’s our cue, huh?” Ly remarks as you hear the beginnings of a passionate debate through the bunker walls. “Looks like we’ve still got a lot ta’ choose from in there!”

Yea, you nod as you peruse the contents of the drawers, not to mention your PURCHASE…

QUESTION 1: DO YOU PUT ON THE BUNNY SUIT (EARS, LEOTARD, TIGHTS, GO-GO BOOTS, COLLAR)?
>YEP! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED!
>AYE, BUT LET’S SKIP THE EARS!
>YEA, BUT LET’S WEAR SOME STUFF OVER IT! GAMIN’ THE SYSTEM, BABY!
>NAH, NOT YET!
>WRITE-IN!

QUESTION 2: IF YOU DO WANNA WEAR SOMETHING ELSE OVER IT, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE?
>CLASSIC JANITOR COVERALLS!
>YOUR EXP SHIRT, CARGO PANTS, AND COMBAT BOOTS COMBO!
>KEEP WEARING THE JOPLIN GEAR! SYB CAN DEAL!
>LET’S DO SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY: (WRITE-IN OUTFIT!)
>>
>>5175171
>YEA, BUT LET’S WEAR SOME STUFF OVER IT! GAMIN’ THE SYSTEM, BABY!
>LET’S DO SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY: (1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES!)
>>
>>5175171
>>YEA, BUT LET’S WEAR SOME STUFF OVER IT! GAMIN’ THE SYSTEM, BABY!
>CLASSIC JANITOR COVERALLS!
>LET’S DO SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY: (1 PAIR OF SWEET SHADES!)
>>
>>5175171
>YEA, BUT LET’S WEAR SOME STUFF OVER IT! GAMIN’ THE SYSTEM, BABY!
>CLASSIC JANITOR COVERALLS!

Keep it underneath for emergency situations.
>>
>>5175208
>>5175191
And I can roll with the shades, too. Are we also going to wear them indoors like a douchebag?
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>>5175210
Of course! Why even ask?
>>
>>5175171
>>YEA, BUT LET’S WEAR SOME STUFF OVER IT! GAMIN’ THE SYSTEM, BABY!
>>CLASSIC JANITOR COVERALLS!
>>
>>5175191
>>5175208
>>5175209
>>5175233
THE ENSEMBLE:
>BUNNY SUIT!
>CLASSIC COVERALLS!
>SWEET SHADES!

Writing!

>>5175210
What >>5175229 said!
>>
Syb’s gone and your pals are probably arguing about something stupid–it’s TIME. Making sure to lock your door, you double down by retreating to the bathroom as well anAAACK!

Several needle-like claws dig into your leg as their owner greets you with a fearsome hiss! Peeling the raccoon off and chucking her onto your bed in one fluid movement, you give the woodland creature one final pointed glare as she settles onto one of your pillows with a sour look on her face. That’s right!

Flicking the light switch on, the first thing you notice are the countless shattered pieces of a BATH BOMB JAR strewn about the floor! Whirling around to face the culprit, you jab a finger at the beast as its glowing eyes watch from beneath your bed’s covers–she’s gonna pay for that!

“Huh.” Ly muses as you slowly shut the bathroom door, “Does dat’ look used to you?” Trepidation wells up inside your chest as you let your skeleton point your head towards your pride and joy: THE WHIRLPOOL BATHTUB, only to find it SULLIED and DEFILED by an UNSIGHTLY RING! You friggin’ KNEW that nerd was using your bath! You just KNEW it!

“Gee, too bad there ain’t any janitors around.” Ly remarks as you furiously scrub away at the mark with a loofa! EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR, BITCH! And what’s he still doing here anyways?! You’re CHANGING!

“For da’ last dang time, I’ve seen-” Your skeleton begins before trailing off into a resigned sigh. “Ya’ know what? Fine. But don’t come crawlin’ ta’ me if ya’ can’t reach da’ zipper or somethin’...”

You won’t, now take a hike! Watching Ly’s grumbling ASTRAL FORM phase through the wall, you give it a few more seconds before retrieving the HAULIE PAULIE BAG from your pockets.

A few moments that need no narration later, you delicately place the BUNNY EARS on your head like the proverbial strawberry on the cake! Delicious! Taking a few moments to take it all in, you can’t help but give yourself a thumb’s up! Sure, it’s a bit tight in places and your thighs could use a little more work, but the last few days of casually flirting with Death seem to have done some good: you might not be as fit as Mitz or thin as Syb, but there’s definitely some improvement going on here! Is this the effect of THE OUTFIT!? Plus the leotard makes your rack look-well… you approve, is what you’re saying!

In fact, you think to yourself as you straighten out the cute little bowtie around your neck, this little ensemble might be too good. How the hell are you gonna get anything done if your dumb friends are drooling the whole time? Art might be able to lock it down, sure, but what about Talbot? Or EDDIE!?

>CONTD.
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>>5175313
It’s clear you’ve made a slight miscalculation here, you mutter as you tap your GO-GO BOOTED TOES on the floor. Emerging from the bathroom like a beautiful bunny-eared butterfly, you intercept the hiss from the raccoon sharing your room by flipping the bird at them before rifling through your drawers. Time for an experiment…

Digging your way through the mountain of shirts, pants, dresses, armor, and costumes too ridiculous to even mention, you eventually happen upon your target: a FRESHLY-LAUNDERED EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR UNIFORM! Kicking off your GO-GO BOOTS, you immediately get to work in putting on your original superhero uniform–the one that carried you safely away from the dark recesses of the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONE FACTORY. If you close your eyes you can still smell the bone dust!

Popping on some YELLOW GALOSHES and zipping up the jumpsuit, you nod in approval as you fail to notice any changes in your pep as your recent purchase is all but covered up by your normal work outfit. Taking one last look in the mirror, you can’t help but feel like something’s missing… Yanking open another drawer, you find a fresh pair of SWEET SHADES and slap ‘em on–though your vision’s impaired, you can’t deny that you look OUTRAGEOUS!

Okay, that wasn’t it, though. Face scrunched up in growing irritation, you finally notice the issue drooping in front of your mirror image’s face–the EARS! Right! Pulling your EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR CAP over the offenders, you feel things finally balance out–giving yourself one last inspection in the mirror, you turn and pose for LIL’ STANLEY and send a toothy grin her way. Not bad, huh?

The varmit’s exaggerated yawn tells you all you need to know. Wh-who cares what she thinks anyways?!

>CONTD.
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>>5175314
Blowing a raspberry at the capricious beast, you whistle for your SENTIENT ASTRAL SKELETON to return!

“Finally! Listen, Stan-”

Good news, Ly: after much delineation, the committee has unanimously deemed you to be SPICY HOT! Hold applause, please! The news doesn’t seem to enthuse your skeleton much.

“Great–can we go now? A storm’s brewin’ in da’ LIVIN’ ROOM!” The sudden urgency in his voice quickly siphons away your good mood–the living room? What is it?

“A place where folks relax–usually in armchairs while watchin’ da’ tube.” Ly explains. “But dat’s not important right now! Come on!”

The bony banshee ‘LY’ds the way through the wall, prompting you to hurry close behiOW, FUCK!

“Ya might wanna try da’ door, cupcake.” Ly suggests as you recoil from your collision with the wall. Steadying yourself, you’re just about to race after Ly when you hear a haughty snicker behind you–whipping around to face the culprit, something in your glare takes LIL’ STANLEY off-guard–long enough for you to snatch her up by the scruff of her neck before taking her with you!

Kicking your bedroom door open, you’re down the hall in seconds flat by the time the commotion in the living room grows to a crescendo! Pet still dangling from your hand, you skid around the corner at the end of the hallway to find your pals gathered in a circle like Middle School kids about to witness a fight! Takes ya back…

“Stan!” Tucker shouts, being the first of the bunch to notice you, “You gotta stop ‘em!”

Stop WHAT?!

>CONTD.
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>>5175315
Pushing your way into the circle, you get your answer almost immediately: trembling on the floor amidst a pile of machine parts and sweat kneels none other than Denise–looming above her with a sadistic grin on his face stands her old science project and work buddy–ex-buddy, judging from the current situation. Noticing your approach, both he and Denise address you almost immediately!

St-Stan!” Denise blubbers, “H-help-

“STAN!” Talbot exclaims, “Just in time–I was just about to give this rat a coupla’ swirlies for all that weird science crap she put me through!” Narrowing his eyes at the gizmos on the floor around her, the janitor’s bemused expression falters a bit. “After she explains just what the hell she’s doin’ skulking around here collecting junk!”

“Yea!” Eddie shouts before you can get a word in, “Weren’t you in jail?!”

“Just what were you planning on doing with that stuff anyways?” Art growls, stepping aside to let a knife-wielding Kiki into the circle!

“Ten bucks says it wasn’t a housewarming gift.” Mitzi jokes in a grim tone.

“Stanley…” Sybil hisses as she shoots you a sideways glance, “Do something, please!”

That’s what you’re trying to do, damn it! Striding forward into the fray, you’re just about to work your magic when a deafening drone emanates from the walls around you!

And that’s when all the lights go out.

END OF PART 14
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: IN GOOD COMPANY
>>
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And another admittedly dialogue-stuffed thread is finished! Thanks to everyone who participated, read, and even lurked–I know that one had a whole lotta talking and I appreciate you guys dealing with it! The next few will have some more variety–honest!

As for when the next thread will be, well, that’s a pretty good question. I might have mentioned in the past few updates or so, but I’ll be moving at the end of the week. Good news is that the new pad is closer to my work so I’ll be less tired and have some more free time to write. Bad news is that we’re, well… Moving. So we’ve gotta pack and take care of some stuff.

Being optimistic, I’d wager a new thread could be up as early as MARCH 5TH… Hell, maybe earlier! Until then, though, you’ll just have to settle for a few other things:

This thread is ARCHIVED! You can check it out and show it to all of your lame pals using this link:
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5123554/

Archive Link to vote and catch up! Thanks to everyone who voted us into the EPIC and EXCELLENT Thread range! You guys are the best!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bones%20Quest

Follow me on Twitter if you haven’t already!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3

Imgur Page for quest and FAN ART! I’ll update it eventually, I swear!!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

That’s all for now! Thank you all so much again for following along thus far–hope you continue to do so in the future! As this is still my first quest, feel free to post any QUESTIONS, CRITICISM, or FEEDBACK in this thread–I’ll be keeping an eye on it for the next few days and every bit helps!
>>
>>5175338

Safe travels and stuff— fun thread as always! Can’t wait for the next one!
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>>5175359
Thanks! It'll be nice to have a bit more free time again, that's for damn sure!

Also, the ever-stellar BATHIC of DROWNED QUEST AND DROWNED QUEST: REDUX acclaim whipped some STANart up--listen to the sign, people! And while you're at it, check out Drowned as well! You can find the archive for Redux, the current quest, here:
https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=drowned%20quest%20redux
>>
>>5175315
>the living room? What is it?
>“A place where folks relax–usually in armchairs while watchin’ da’ tube.” Ly explains. “But dat’s not important right now! Come on!”
Kek. Man, Airplane is such a good movie. They don't make comedy like that anymore.

>>5175338
Hope your move goes smoothly.
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>>5175380
The world would be a sad, sad place without Police Squad and The Naked Gun. Shame Leslie Nielsen had to go... Thanks, though--I hope it goes smoothly too!
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>>5175338
Thanks for running, Bones! Hope things go well for you!
>>
>>5176118
Thank YOU for playing! It's been a real pleasure so far and I'm happy I'll have some free time back again--should make for a few more updates per day. Appreciate the well-wishes and wish you the best too!



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