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United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
SuperChutney wrote:
Felix Mason, Student
What's been keeping you awake?
The internet, researching late into the night. First it was about my studies, then about trivial tangents, then sometimes just browsing for the sake of it. With caffine, sleep became unrequired, just a waste of time. Life, classes, friends continued as normal during the day, but at night I was restless. I became jittery with energy drinks, but lethargic and disorientated without them.
What just happened to you?
In the hours of darkness, I came across an occult website like the hundreds I've seen already. But this one lists people who will 'become sacrifices'. People I meet in my day-to-day life are on that list, some of my friends and my professors. At the very bottom of the list, the newest entry, I am described in great detail.
What's on the surface?
A lanky college student. Easy-going, a bit quiet, but reliable. I can be trusted to have a grip on the situation and I'm normally the first one people turn to advice.
What's lies beneath?
I have no idea where my life is going to lead with my business degree or where I will fit into my world. I'm insecure about my future, and worried that I'm wasting my time away and should be doing more to prepare myself. I feel I don't have any skills or qualities that makes me special or sets me apart from those around me, and I am doubtful of if my existance in life will make any impact of those around me.
What's your path?
Resolve my personal insecurities and find something I can work myself towards, something that I can be proud of.
2 Fight and 1 Flight.
Hey Chutney! Welcome to the game! Glad you're joining us.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask them here or in the OOC thread.
The list is huge. You find yourself scrolling for awhile, glancing over names and recognizing a few here and there.
Creepy Website wrote:
...
...
...
Alex Mann
Peter Thorpe
Francis Umbridge
Sarah Minefield
Julie Sutherland
Eliot Minefield
Jim Corning
Felix Mason
Who are these people and why are half of their names crossed out? you wonder absently to yourself.
Your eyes rest warily on your name for a moment before you click the link...
Holy cow. They've got a ton of info on you. Name, birth date, place of birth, street you grew up on, current address, pictures of you from age 6 months to several photos just taken last year. This is nuts!
It takes you awhile to work through the page. They must have gotten your old usenet info, combined it with your first three MySpace pages and then somehow gotten on your Facebook. There's just no way they'd know all of this any other way...
Mother's maiden name
Father's favorite color?
My favorite color?
And what's this? "Live Feed?"
You hover over the link before clicking. The page takes a moment to load but when it does you can't believe your eyes.
You're staring at yourself, staring at yourself. It's a video of you looking back at you. Live and in color.
But wait...what the hell was that? You just saw something skitter along the ceiling above you on the video.
You look around frantically but see nothing. The "you" on screen does the same.
Suddenly, your speakers flair to life:
"On the next episode of Felix Mason: Failure at Life!" a TV announcer's voice from the 60s fills your ears. You quickly turn back to the monitor and watch the horrifying scene in the video feed unfold.
While before, you were staring at yourself through a live feed camera, now it looks like the camera has re-positioned itself to a corner in your room. It's not a live feed though. You watch as the you in the video opens the closed canned of Mtn Dew sitting next to them (the same Mtn Dew that's still sitting closed next to you) and begins to take a drink.
And then...it gets crazy.
You watch yourself kill yourself. And we're not talking bullet to the brain pan, rope around the neck, slit wrists styled either. Oh no. We're talking about you watching yourself watching yourself on the video as the you that you're watching in the video's video crawls out of the you you're watching's computer screen and begins shoving the you you're watching's own fist down your own throat while the same canned laughter they've been playing on TV for the past 60 years starts and stops in time to your body's jerking death throws.
The you that's doing the throat shoving...it's off somehow. The colors seem faded; he looks like an old cathode ray tube monitor thats had a magnet left next to it for too long.
Wait, why does the coloring matter? You just watched yourself get killed by a creature that crawled out of your computer monitor. It just so happens that the creature looked like you. Stranger things have happened right? This is fucked up...
Your brain reels. This has got to be a dream. Did you fall asleep? You absentmindedly reach down and hear the *cRaCK SPISSSSSSSSSS* as you open the can of Mtn Dew at your desk. The you killing you on the screen stops what it's doing though. Stops ripping the you on screens intestines right out of your throat. Right when you opened the can. Just like in the video you just watched. You can see it start moving to the camera in the corner of the room with you dead on the floor. It starts pressing it's face close to the camera and your screen...bends...distorts...starts *POP*ping outwards and taking the shape of the you from the other you's murder.
It's pushing itself out of the computer just like in the video! What in the hell is happening?!
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
"What the fuck?!"
I spring back from the computer, stumbling over the chair I was sitting in. The can of Mountain Dew is knocked to the ground, but I don't even notice, watching myself claw my way out of the computer screen. I feel dazed, but I glance around the room for something to defend myself with. What do you use against a monster version of yourself who just murdered you?
There's a large paper-weight on the desk. Without thinking about what good it will do, I pick it up and swing it into my head which is emerging from the monitor in an instinctive attempt to keep it out.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
*THUNK!*
"Ow man! What the fuck?! Why'd you just hit me with your text book man? Not cool..."
You open your eyes and find yourself walking down one of the many hallways of your University, Quantum Physics text book in hand and Carlos, a friend you met in highschool rubbing his forehead in front of you.
"Seriously man, you need to lay off those energy drinks bro, it ain't cool that you just hit me man...damn." he complains while rubbing the tiny knot on his head. He'll whine like this for hours if you don't change the subject.
You're about to open your mouth when a voice cracks over the loud speaker
*cRaCK* *WHHHHIIINE* *cough* "Attention students, would Felix Mason please report to the Dean's office immediately. Felix Mason, to the Deans office. Immediately."
All eyes in the hallway turn to you.
"OOoooh damn bro, what'd you do esse? You get caught bumpin' uglies with your professor again? You some kind of necro-feel-a-yak or somethin? Damn man, you on your own." Carlos laughs loudly before trotting down the hallway away from you.
You start pouring over the list of things you've done wrong recently that would net you a visit to the school dean. I mean, you can't get arrested for killing yourself right? And that had to be dream right?
You look down at your fingernails and notice the blood still caked underneath them..
It had happened just like in the video:
Mtn Dew can,
attack of the evil doppleganger,
a struggle ensues.
Except, instead of the creature being the one shoving its hand down your throat, you were the one shoving your hand down its. The hard wet smack of the paper weight knocked it dizzy as it clawed through your computer screen and in your desperation it was the first thing that came to mind.
You still can't stop picturing the blood. It was everywhere or at least it felt that way. You blacked out afterwords and found yourself here at school. You seem to vaguely remember shoving the body in a trash bag and dropping it off in the old salt marshes outside of town, but everything after that was a blur...
At least you had the decency to change your clothes and wash the blood off your hands this time.
You walk for awhile through the twisting hallways of the U before realizing you've entered the main building.
Holy shit...this place is empty. You look around and realize why. Police officers, at least 6 of them, all standing outside of the Dean's office. One of them sees you, nudges the officer next to him and nods your way.
You figure you can't serve a life sentence or death row for killing yourself right? I mean, right?!
An officer approaches you. He does so casually but you notice his hand slowly move to a relaxed position on top of his gun holster as he flicks his thumb and unbuttons the top.
"Felix Mason? Come with us please. We have a few questions for you regarding the recent death of your Professor, Sarah Minefield. We know that you were close to Sarah, and her husband has gone missing recently. It's just a few questions and won't take long." He reaches out an arm to put around your shoulder and lead you inside the office.
Something just doesn't feel right though. How could he have known about you and Sarah? You kept it under wraps... and what was that Carlos said earlier about bumping uglies?
It just doesn't. feel. right...
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
"I don't know anything, man."
I shrugged off the policeman's arm. I ran my thumb over my fingernails, thinking of the blood trapped under them. The police man tried again and I thought how it would feel, shoving my hand down his throat as well- I need something to drink. The dizzy feeling of exhastion was coming back again.
"I don't know anything," I repeated. "I've never met her husband before."
I was being guided into the office. I shoved my dirty fingers into my pockets. I had no idea how much they knew about Sarah and me.
"Anything you can tell us could be of help. It won't take very long."
I thought of the list of names, of Sarah's name crossed out. I thought of the sound of metal meeting flesh and of salt marshes. Let's get this over with.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
You walk into the office and the door *SLAMS* behind you.
"Keep it quiet Felix, you don't want to draw attention to us."
Mrs. Minefield lounges casually on the edge of her desk, satin white shirt clinging to her in all the right places. She does the classic glasses-off-hair-shaken-down maneuver that every guy falls for when it's done by a woman as beautiful as her.
You kiss the nape of her neck and pull her close to you. She smells of summer. The clean crisp smell that only a full bright day of sunshine can invoke. She smells like...home.
"Kiss me," she says, "Make me forget about him."
...
Later on, sitting on the coach she had tucked into the back of her office, smoking a cheap Penguin cigarette and watching her get dressed, you notice the bruises along her back.
She notices you staring at her and unconsciously blushes.
"The bruises? Don't worry, he hasn't been hitting me again," she says as she walks close and points to the buttons down the back of her gown. "I'm dying you know," she whispers as you button them gently and notice how the bruises move and shift almost hypnotically under her skin.
"The doctor says I've got less than a year. Eliot burst into tears the second the words came out of the doctors mouth. He's so weak some times...I haven't had the chance to let the news settle in yet. I haven't had the chance to cry about it...If he only knew the truth about us he'd probably kill me," she chuckles before turning around and kissing you on the cheek.
"You should go now."
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to hold on to her for just a moment longer.
"You should go now!" she says again, this time sounding strangely like Carlos...
"Come on esse move!" Carlos yanks you through the halls. Screams fill your ears. Blood covers your arms. Your head spins.
"Dude what the fuck did you do man?! I ain't never seen anyone die like that man...what the fuck?!"
...
"Have a seat son," the officer leads you to a chair in the dean's office and motions to the chair in front of the desk. "I said...sit...DOWN!" the officer shoves you towards the chair. You sit down.
"Well well well," a familiar voice from behind the office chair says. Whomever's sitting in it swivels the chair around and you find yourself face to face with Office Cartrell. The same guy that busted you at the age of 12 for painting graffiti on a wall in an abandoned house on Bourbon street. The same asshole that had you sent to Juvenile detention because he claimed that you were "defacing, not just public property, but a national historic landsite, and one of this great State's few remaining treasures." A cheap, run-down, rat-filled, shit smeared dump was the more accurate description, but saying that to the judge didn't seem to stop him from sending you to juvie anyways.
"I always knew you were trouble. Take a look at this son. Whatdya make of it?" Officer Cartrell turns the computer monitor on the dean's desk towards you. You sit back in your chair and your eyes go wide. It's the video from last night. Fuck, that wasn't a dream!
"So what is this some kind of prank? Some kind of funny guy thing? This what you kids call art these days? Stopped worshipping at the house of Banksy and started worshipping at the cellar of Jigsaw, eh?"
He rambles on. You don't hear a word he says.
The video. It's not quiet right. It gets to the point where you shoved your hand down the things throat but instead of the creature dying it...hell it rips your arm off and beats you to death with it.
*cRaCK SPISSSSSSSSSS*
You look back and see one of the officers opening a can of Mtn Dew. "What? Face forward and listen!"
A chill runs through your spine as you hear that same crackling sound from last night and smell that weird mix of o'zone and burnt plastic. You slowly turn back to the screen. Officer Cartrell stops his rambling mid sentence.
"What in the hell is this? This some kind of joke you brat!" he reaches for the pistol he had laid on the desk in open view but before he can get a grip of it a cold black hand darts out of the monitor, grabs the gun and shoots good ol' Cartrell dead in the face.
...
"Seriously man! What did you do?! We gotta get you out of here! I know a guy at the Motel 3, he owes me a favor. Maybe we can get you to hide out there for awhile." Carlos yanks hard on your arm. There's just...so much blood everywhere...
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
"Fuck, I need to drink something."
"You're fucking insane, bro."
The corridors are suddenly deserted, but Carlos is hissing furiously as he continues to drag me. My head is pounding.
"That shit you've been drinking-"
"Nobody liked that Cartrell ass anyway," I interrupt, sounding defensive. I don't know if I'm trying to convince Carlos or myself. Cartrell's gun sits cold and heavy in my pocket as I stumbled after Carlos. The only thing I can taste is the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. It's on my face, covering my hands, soaking my clothes and I feel like I'm drowning in it. In the back of the mind the gunshots I fired - the other me, I remind myself - are still echoing.
We push through the large doors to outside, leaving blood smears on the glass.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
"The Rosenhan experiment concluded that it's extremely difficult to tell the sane from the insane, even at mental health facilities.
"Oh man, the new professor is HOT esse...damn... I'm gonna get her number after class man, watch me." Carlos sitting in the desk next to you in class whispers under his breath as the new professor writes notes on the old chalk board.
*rRRiIIing*
"Okay class, I expect a 5000 word essay by tomorrow on how YOU would participate in the Rosenhan experiment, and whether or not you think you'd succeed at tricking the physicians at a mental institution."
A collective "AWWWww!" echoes through the class room.
"Watch this homes..." Carlos leaps out of his desk on the auditorium floor and swaggers his way up front.
"Hey, professor, you offerin' any one-on-one study groups this semester? I got the feeling you could teach me a thing or two."
"If you want to remain in my class for this semester you'll look me in the eyes when you're talking to me Carlos."
"Daaamn that hurts teach!"
"Damn that...really hurts..."
You pull as hard as you can but Carlos is lodged under the rubble. A large puddle of blood starts to pool around him and his back is twisted at a disgustingly wrong angle. It looks like the cement wall cut him in half. He's still talking to you somehow though.
You don't remember how it happened. One second you were walking down the sidewalk towards the Motel 3, the next second the side of the place explodes and some crazy paint-fleck covered guy jumps in a vehicle and speeds off while a half naked man runs down the street after him gun in hand, firing off shot after shot after shot.
And Carlos man...Carlos...he's just not making any sense.
"She told me she'd kill me if I told you man, told me she'd eat my heart for breakfast man...breakfast...like fucking cereal, banana, Carlos, milk, spoon, bowl...man...it's fucked"
You have no idea what he's talking about. He mentioned needing to tell you something about Sarah on the walk over but other than that he was silent, occasionally looking down at the blood on your hands and shivering. The back roads allowed you to avoid any contact with other people, and most of the police were making it for the school anyways.
"Was trying to tell the driver to watch out for that lying cockroach" a thick drawled voice sounds from behind you. You look back and see the half naked man, his half-shaved face smeared with shaving cream. "Whelp. Looks like we need to put your friend down son" he casually lowers the pistol he had resting on his shoulder level with Carlos' beaten and bruised face.
"Oh no man, she sent you didn't sh*BLAM!*
Carlos' body shivers spastically once before going still. You can feel the warm blood and brain matter on your face and you're pretty sure a shrapnel shard of skull is lodged in your arm. Your ears riiiiiiing loudly.
"Son...~ou oka~? ~an yo~ ~ear me~? ~es? Hearing coming back a bit now? Good good. It's your turn now son. Time for me to put you down like the dog you are. You should never have fucked the bitch." The drawled voice half-naked man pulls the gun up and levels it with your head.
He moves his thumb to the hammer and you hear a loud *CLICK*
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
Shit!
I throw myself at the man, trying to knock him to the ground. I grab at the gun in his hand, trying to distract him to give me enough time to pull Cartrell's gun out of my pocket.
If I can't stop him, I'm going to have to make a run for it.
Spoiler (mouseover to reveal): I'd like to roll dice to either escape or subdue him, whichever chance pops up.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
Cool. The guy's really close but you're quick on your feet (right?) so I'm going to throw 3 dice at you. You're essentially dodging a bullet at point blank if you don't react fast enough, and even than, you've got a guy with a revolver who's nekked and slimy (and apparently has no qualms with killing people, may even be a professional ) to wrestle with.
Pain 1d6 = (5) = 5
Pain 1d6 = (6) = 6
Pain 1d6 = (6) = 6
Ooooh NO successes but PAIN is dominating HARD tonight...All you have to do is roll a single success and hope to dominate in another trait. Go ahead and narrate for me exactly what happens (success or failure). Looking forward to it 
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
Hmm, I would have added 1 exhastion and 2 madness to that roll. It seems a little excessive with no pain-successes, but here we go...!
Discipline 1d6 = (4) = 4
Discipline 1d6 = (2) = 2
Discipline 1d6 = (1) = 1
Exhastion 1d6 = (3) = 3
Madness 1d6 = (1) = 1
Madness 1d6 = (6) = 6\
4 successes and pain dominates. Hm...
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
The half-naked man grunts as I slam into him and falls backwards onto the rubble.
*BLAM!*
The gun discharges as he drops in it, but I'm already on top of him, hitting him again and again. The gun in my pocket is forgetten as I shove my hand down his thoat, his yells becoming choked and garbled. His face is bloodied, partly from his injuries and partly from my now-gore-soaked hands. With a desperate flail, he kicks me heavily in the stomach and throws me off, but Catrell's gun is in my hand before I even realise it's there.
*CLICK*
He lunges at me, a reversal of positions.
*BLAM!*
At point-blank range, his head explodes as the bullet enters it. Panting, I look down at his body. There is something tattooed on his chest, covered in blood. I bend down and wipe it off. An intricate icon is inked on his skin, something I've seen before. Where was it...? Nearby, something clicked on and the sound of static filled the air. Through the massive hole on in the building's wall, a large TV had switched on. I picked my way over the rubble to it. With my back to the TV I scanned the destroyed room around me. There was water gushing from plumbing somewhere in the mess. Carlos's body lay forlorn just outside.
Behind me, the sound of static silenced.
Something grabbed me.
Enjoy your coin. D:
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
You feel your skin crinkle as the TV screen slides over it. It feels like a cold dead fish is being scraped along the edges of your skin and clothes. It smells like ozone after a thunderstorm. You can't see anything as you struggle against whatever has a grip on you.
You feel yourself pulled wholly through the TV and begin to fall. Whatever had a grip on you let go as soon as you were off your feet. Nickelodeon, Fox, CNN, BBC, Comedy Central, Cartoon Network, G4, those spanish channels that always seem to playing soap operas, the list goes on and on...The owner here must have had digital cable or something.
An odd thought seeing as you're falling through television space...The channels stream past you like a roulette wheel.
One channel keeps reoccurring over and over again. It's nothing but a scene of three old people sitting in a dingy room. One tiny woman in a giant chair, an old guy knitting in the corner and an odd looking lady hunched over a sewing machine. The tiny woman is talking to a guy that from the back looks passingly familiar. Ewan McGregor perhaps?
The TV show reappears every few channels as the young McGregor-look-alike heads up stairs and vanishes from the scene.
It's odd, but the channel seems to be occurring more frequently, almost as if the harder you concentrate on it, the more often it appears. You feel drawn to it. Suddenly, you feel that sticky wet scraping feeling along your skin and find yourself on your knees in the very room you were just staring at gasping for air. You hadn't realized you were holding your breath until now.
"Oh good! Another guest! Oh the adulterer from the looks of it too! How nice! Come come deary, you must help me prepare dinner."
You feel yourself yanked to your feet and find yourself crotch to face with the tiny woman that was sitting in the large chair. She has you by the wrist and yanks you towards a room off to the side of the living room and into a large kitchen.
The smell in here is off, and it's easy to see why. The place is filthy. Roaches crawl over everything and what looks like a dead skinned cat hangs partially cut on a meat rack next to a boiling pot of...something. You don't want to know in all honesty. Where the hell are you again and how did you get here?
"You fool! You'll blow our cover! Now get out of here before he sees you!"
The little woman leads you to a door at the back of the kitchen and shoves you out, slamming the door behind you.
You barely hold your footing as you spin around to bang on the door in protest, but find yourself instead on the rooftops high above a city like none you've ever seen before. The door is gone, and in its place is a large brick smoke stack. Tile roofs spread for as far as the eye can see and everywhere are other doors, windows and what looks like the mouth of a carnival horror ride attraction in the distance. The oddest part of it all is that there are planes...air planes, old and new, 1930s to present day, everywhere. Not flying, no; crashed in horribly distorted fashions and strewn about the rooftops like discarded candy wrappers. The sky is empty though, and not even a cloud or bird dots its featureless grey expanse.
"Ahahahahaha! I'm gonna get you kid! Give me yer damn money!"
A loud child-like voice echoes from behind you, and you look back just in time to stumble out of the way of a fat 13 year old kid chasing after a...thing...on a newspaper bicycle. You must have not moved quite fast enough though as the kid trips on your foot, falls flat on his face, and starts sliding down the tiled rooftop. He scrambles for a hold, screaming the entire way, before quickly disappearing off of the side the building you're standing on. A long agonizing descending scream sounds from the kids lungs as he falls and a long time passes before you hear a wet *SMACK* from the streets below and silence.
The...thing...on the bike, what would pass as a child if it were yanked out of a book of origami and paper machete, turns its bike around, parks it, hops off, and walks up to you holding a rolled up paper.
"ShhThanks shhMister!" the thing says with a whistle before tilting it's 'hat' to you, hopping on its bike and riding away.
"You should run!" it yells as it hops over the gaps between rooftops.
You open the paper and view the headline:
Myterious New Stranger to the Mad City saves Phil the Paper Boy from Bryan the Roof Rat just as the clock strikes 13! Officer Tock is investigating it as a possible homicide!
That's strange..."Just as the clock strikes thirteen?"...must have been a typo.
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
*DONG!*
Thirteen rings...you had to have heard that wrong.
*TICK tock TICK tock TICK tock TICK tock*
"You...there...stop...in...the...name...of...the...law!"
You hear the ticking before you hear the footsteps. A half dozen police officers dressed in strange uniforms, each wearing a star badge with a red crown and what looks like a kangaroo and an ostrich boxing on the front of it approach you, billy clubs in hand.
"Officer...Tock...needs...to...speak...with...you...for...questioning...regarding...the...murder...you...just...performed..."
What an odd rhythmic way of speaking...and now you can see why. One of the officers turns his back to your briefly revealing a large bronze turn key sticking out of his back. No wonder these guys looked so stiff...they're clockwork machinations.
They start spreading out along the rooftop and approach you slowly...
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
I edge away from the line of clockwork men, carefully balancing on the slant of the roof.
"I didn't do anything wrong," I stammer. As they got closer, I could see the metallic gleam of their eyes, the unnaturally sharp angles of their faces.
"You...must...be...questioned...by...Officer...Tock..."
"I didn't do anything!
Turning around, I started running across the roof, in the direction the origami boy had gone.
I'm rolling dice to run away from these guys! I may end up using my madness talent if the difficulty is high.
Spoiler (mouseover to reveal): If they have a pain value of 4 or less, I won't add any dice. For every pain dice more than that, I'll add a madness dice.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
For running away from these guys, you're looking at a pain dice of 4. They may look like clumsy clockwork humans, but when those springs wind up tight, they can dash at frighteningly fast speeds. Standing and fighting is a PD6. Of course, you could always just let them take you in Go ahead and roll your dice!
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
I'd love to see what would happen if Felix got taken in, but I don't think it fits with the character to do so willing. If they're going faster than I can run, let's stand and fight.
I will add two madness dice.
Discipline 1d6 = (2) = 2
Discipline 1d6 = (2) = 2
Discipline 1d6 = (5) = 5
Exhastion 1d6 = (5) = 5
Madness 1d6 = (3) = 3
Madness 1d6 = (4) = 4
3 successes, discipline currently dominating, right? You can easily dominate with pain. D:
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
Sounds good!
Pain 1d6 = (1) = 1
Pain 1d6 = (4) = 4
Pain 1d6 = (4) = 4
Pain 1d6 = (4) = 4
Pain 1d6 = (3) = 3
Pain 1d6 = (4) = 4
2 successes, discipline dominating. I'll go ahead and use my coin of despair to add a six to your exhaustion though, making it dominate. You'll get a coin of Hope in return though. Narrate it up and let me know how it goes 
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
Woo, money! Boo at increasing my exhastion when I was planning to decrease it with my discipline, though. I'm really tired as I type this, so point out any mistakes in the OOC thread and I'll fix it up. Also: I suck at action scenes.
I reached the edge of the roof and stopped suddenly, nearly over-balancing and falling off. The gap that the paper boy had hopped over with ease was several metres wide, a lane seperating the buildings. The footsteps were much closer, too close. Shit. I turned around just in time. One of the clockmen was only a couple of feet away, club raised. I kicked at him and he lost his balance on the slanted roof, sliding down and over the edge. He hit the pavement far below with metallic crunch.
They need me alive, but I don't need them... I run up the roof as fast as I dare, to a crashed biplane that's lodged between two chimneys. The metal is rusty, but it supports me when I lean against it. The five clockwork men are charging up the roof with a jerky gait, and I manage to kick another one down, who slids to the lip of the roof but manages to get a grip on the tiles. The other four approach more catiously. One of them suddenly lunge at me, but I swing a fist at his face.
Pain shoots through my hand. Ow, fuck, fuck, fuck. The clockwork seems entirely unaffected by my blow. He swings out with his club and hits in me in the stomach, hard. I double-over, stumbling into him. He braces me, but I shove him and he goes down as well, taking out another whose legs he frantically grabbed at and the man who was pulling himself up from the edge of the roof. I start to get to my feet when a cool, steel grip on my arm hauls me up. The two remaining men pull me up, and each take an arm as if to frog-march me back across the roof.
There's no way I'm going to meet this Officer Tock. Arms fully restrained, I desperately attempt to sweep out the legs of the man on my left from underneath him. He goes down, and takes us with him. We slip and slide down the roof, tiles smooth and warm. One of them manages to stop our fall, and the three of us hang like a chain. The clockwork man at the bottom swings out over the street, and starts clawing his way up my leg to get back to the reletively solid ground of the roof. A solid kick dislodges him and sends him plummeting down like his companions.
There is only one man left, and he's underneath me, slightly higher up the roof.
*TICK tock TICK tock*
The golden key sticking out the back of his head rotates in time with the ticks that radiate from him. I grab the key to support my weight as I pull myself up, but it comes out of the man's head with a small *click*. The ticks stop. The man goes completely still.
Panting, I pull myself up and stagger over to the smoke stack that I got pushed out of. I sit down and lean against it, exhasted.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
You sit there panting for a time, and slowly catch your breath. Your chest burns from inhaling all the roof top smoke pouring from the stacks. You spend some time taking in your surroundings.
The rooftops are quiet for the most part, though you do see the occasional origami kid darting in and out of the doors a few roofs away. Each one is dressed slightly different than the one before it, but they all have that same paper-mache look to them. It reminds of a kid you went to school with. It makes your skin crawl.
Nathan Corning was always a little off. You never got along with him but then again neither did anyone else. He'd always prattle off and brag about how he came from a long line of attorneys and how one day he'd have all of you kids thrown behind bars for one thing or another. One hot summer day you guess he pushed one of the other kids too far. They killed him and left him in the school supply shed to rot. No one found him until the week before school started up again. You were there when they did too. The maggots writhing under his skin made the school nurse think he was still alive at first but you knew the second you saw that long smiling cut along his mouth and through both of his cheeks that there was no way he have lived through that...
They never caught his killer...
You shake away the memory as one of the newsboys pulls up close to you and tosses you a paper. You can't tell if it's the one you saved earlier but you think it might be... "shhhBad shhhnews shhhbub, shhhboss's shhhhorders. shhhWe shhhdon't shhhhave shhhmuch shhhsay in the shhhmatter. shhhOnly a shhhfew shhhhours shhhbefore shhhthis shhhits the shhhpress. shhhYou shhhould shhhhurry."
The boy gives you a smile that reminds you of the Corning kid and takes off along the roofs.
You open the paper and read the title as it shifts back and forth between Unknown Assailant Stops the Presses and Tock Arrests Mysterious Police Killer! before solidifying on the second. You read through the story, amazed at the detail about how a man described exactly as you is apprehended tomorrow night after being pursued through the streets of the Mad City by Tock's forces. You flip from the front page and find a picture of yourself there. At least you think it's you. The guy in the picture is beaten to a pulp. Face bloody, nose smashed, giant purple welts sticking out at odd angles on the face. This is kind of creepy...
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
I think of what the origami boy said. Hurry and do what? Get out of this TV world? Propelled by the image of my bruised and bloody face, I fold up the paper and get to my feet with a sigh. I'm still gripping the bronze clockwork key in my hand. It's too long to fit entirely in my back pocket, but I wedge it there anyway, and tear out the pages relating to the story - my story? - and stick them in another pocket. I carefully cross the roof to the smoke stack that I got pushed out of. I run my fingers over it, but I can't feel any ridges or seams that could hint at how to open the door. I bang my fist against the bricks a couple of times.
"Open up!" I call, feeling faintly foolish for yelling at a smoke stack, "Let me back in!"
There's no response and I kick the stack in frustration. Giving it up as a lost cause, I set off to the other end of the roof, the direction the clockwork men came from. On this side, there's another roof I can easily jump over to. I cross this roof, and the next, looking for a way to get down to the ground that didn't involve splatting on the pavement. On one side of the fourth building there are rickety fire escape stairs that lead all the way down. The metal groans as I step onto them, and I move slowly, but they support my weight as I head down. I pass windows as I go down. All of them are boarded over, and the scent of rotting meat drifts from them. It wasn't until I reach the bottom, jumping the last few feet to the ground, that I realise how thick the smoke had been up on the roof. There's the smell of shit and urine in the air, but the street is busy and nobody seems to notice.
"Memories! Buy old memories here!"
"Pink Pocket Elephants! Get your Pink Pocket Elephants before they're sold out!"
Was there a market nearby? I follow the streams of pedestrians down the street. I need to find a TV. I'm not sure if I can get out the same way I got in, but it's the only lead I've got. Suddenly, I hear something in the distance.
*TICK tock TICK tock*
Panic rising, I dart into a side alley, away from the people, and strain to listen. No ticks. Did I imagine it...? I pull out the pages from the newspaper to look for a clue, but the two stories from before are fighting for control on the paper, swirling into each one too fast to read.
As always, let me know if I need to fix something.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
Brilliant stuff! I'll post a reply soon.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
As the pages begin flicking back and forth you notice a picture of the paper press begins to solidify below the heading. You stare at it for a time and notice that there's a street sign and a number on the building shown:
272 Paper Street
*TICK tock TICK tock*
"They said he went down a side alley. Spread out and search for him"
Mechanical voices. A chill runs down your spine. You notice another ladder leading back up to the roofs and what appears to be a man dressed in a rabbit suit pulling a rickshaw with no passengers in it down the street. If you hurry, you might be able to hop on.
*TICK tock TICK tock*
The sound is getting louder. They must be closing in...
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
I don't want to go back up, I decide, even if it's more dangerous down here. I need to find a way out of here, or some way to stop what the newspaper said.
I glance back into the street, and see that the rabbit man has drawn level with the alley. I can't pick out any of the clockwork men in the crowd, but it's hard to be sure without the time to watch for their jerky momements. Trying not to think too hard about why he is wearing a rabbit suit and what it means, I push through the crowd and slip into rickshaw.
"Could you take me to... to 272 Paper Street? Quickly?" I call forward to the rabbit man. I'm not sure if there's anything useful at a printing press, but it's the only address I know in this TV world. I'm not even sure what street I'm on at the moment.
Your move, sir. I have a sinking feeling there are conflict rolls in my near future. 
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
The man in the rabbit suit nods and lets out a long "MEOWWW!"
You have no idea why and figure it's best not to ask. Before you can think much more though the guy takes off down the streets. You're moving so fast you have to grip the rickshaws "oh shit" handles to hold on. It's inhuman how quickly this guy is zipping down the road. You can't complain though, he took off right when you heard a "THERE HE IS! GET HIM!" from behind you. You glance back and see the bizarre is already a tiny speck in the distance on the long city streets.
You zip around several corners, first left, then right, then left, left again, right, left, left, right, right, left, right...you lose track after a time and realize you'll not be able to make your way back to the bizarre easily if you need to.
After a time the rabbit stops abruptly. You lose your grip and go flying over him, landing face first on the brick street at the driver's long rabbity feet. He stands there and watches you as you get to your feet, hands firmly gripped on the rickshaw handles. They're sewn to them...no wonder he can't help.
You move to the side and start rustling through your pockets looking for change to pay the guy. Before you can get a word out he (she? you really can't tell...) perks up one of his rabbity ears as if he can hear something, looks around in a panic, and zips off, leaving you standing alone in the dark streets.
You look around and take it all in. Except for the occasional cough coming from an alley up ahead, it seems that you're alone here. It's dark, with only yellow tinged street lamps illuminating your immediate area. There's newspapers everywhere, floating past on the wind and sticking to the walls and signposts. The air is thick with the smell of damp paper and you can see your breath as you breathe in and out.
Behind you is a tall office building. It disappears into the smog above. The sign on the front is simple: 272 Paper Street
The windows to the place look boarded up from this distance but on closer inspection are just covered in thick layers of old newspapers dating all the way back to the 1800s. For all you can tell the place is abandoned.
The coughing continues from an alley to the left of the building. For a brief second, it looks like someone is pushing on the door to the building from the inside. It distends strangely before returning to it's normal shape. It continues to do this rhythmically, almost like the building itself is breathing.
What will you do now?
-
The Studliest King in the Mushroom Kingdom
Australia
Melbourne
Victoria
"Yes, your chunkiness."
Om nom nom nom nom nom nom nom
-
I stand before 272 Paper Street, the building looming into the smog. The coughing stops briefly, but I get the paranoid itchy feeling under my skin like I'm being watched. I have no idea where I was or how to get back, or how far away I was from the clockwork officers. I'm brought from my thoughts - Wondering around aimlessly would probably be a great way to get captured - by another cough from the alley. Instead, I approach the moving door with trepidation. The door is warm to the touch, and doesn't stop it's movement when I grab the handle. With a final glance at the street around me, I tug the door open.
Warm air washes over me from inside the building, wetter than the air outside and with a foul edge to it. The corridor I'm now looking down is devoid of people, and an unnatural silence surrounds me as I step over the threshold. The doors that line the corridor are all locked, and I'm not eager to investigate each one. Instead, I walk down the corridor, towards what seems to be a small lobby or reception. The floor shifts slightly under my feet as I walk, similar to the door which is now shut behind me.
-
United States
Florida
We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
-
The corridor seems to stretch forever. It reminds you of those days in school when you and Carlos toked up right before the school bell rang and those long delirious shifting walks from the bathroom to class that made you feel like you had all the time in the world right before the hallway monitor would chase you to class and ruin your buzz...
You hear the locked doors creak open as you slowly walk past each. The smell of bone meal and wet paper wafts from within. It reminds you of the time your father took you to the Harvard Museum of Comparative Zoology and showed you all the fossils...
He spent the entire trip lecturing you about how "only the strong survive" and talking about the strength of a well invested long-term bond versus the fluctuating value of purchasing buildings and apartments. About how petrol is nothing but the rotten corpses of creatures from a million years ago and how a million years from now "if we were lucky, our bodies would be glorified as gods instead of pumped through whatever passes for intelligent life's vehicles at the time."
It was the first time you realized your father was crazy. It was the first time you felt like you had accomplished nothing in your life. You were already eight years old; why bother trying to start your journey to success now when so much of your life was already behind you?
"Can I help you sir?" a voice rings in your ears as you snap out of your day dream and find yourself standing in the lobby, your fathers voice still echoing in your ears and making you feel small and insignificant yet again. A woman made of paper machet Playboys and Penthouses sits behind a desk at the back of the room. A single light hangs swinging above her head. It passes back and forth illuminating her in chopping blocks of light. She seems to only move when the light's not shining on her. Each time it passes back and forth she seems to be completely still yet in a new position.
You stand for a minute and stare. You suppose that if you were a newspaper, she'd be the hottest article you'd ever seen in your life, but since you're only human, her appearance and jerking movements only serve to creep you out.
You clear your throat to speak but before you can you hear a *PSST!* come from one of the closed doors on either side of the lobby. It's the paper boy from before. You recognize the magazine cover that takes up most of his forehead. "shhhQuick! shhhOver shhhhere! shhhYou've shhhgot shhhto shhhact shhhfast shhhif shhhyou shhhwant shhhto shhhtop shhhthe shhhpresses!"
"Stop the what?! STOP...THE...WHAT?!" the woman from behind the desk screams at the top of her lungs. The light swinging back and forth across her desk shows a violent stop motion scene of her flipping her chair and leaping on top of her desk.
"shhhOh shhhit! shhhRUN! Shhhe'll shhhkill shhhyou!"
What will you do now?
-
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We must be...increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge!
