Current Players
Name: Annie Lee Baker
Brief description / bio: Annie was a soccer mom who saw all children as her own. but when her children died in a freak accident, she went crazy, and went into a self-imposed exile.
Affliction: Annie has lost all memory of her natural children, and is obsessed with every child she sees. Additionally, Annie has a terrific fear of the outside, other people, and all forms of transportation (except her feet.)
Passion: She loves children, and seeks to protect them from all harm.
Name: Starn Gundar.
Brief description / bio: Starn was part of an experiment testing human reactions to small changes, every time he went to sleep, or in some cases, when he leaves the room, everything in the room/testing area would be slightly changed, wall paper a slightly different shade then it used to be, the page title of a book to be slightly changed, something small turned upside down, etc, Starn became obsessed with finding the changes, when the testing was aggressively accelerated due to a new project leader, various new tests including changing things simply when he looks away, completely pushed him over the edge, after murdering a careless scientist who had a bit too much to drink and entered the testing area, he escaped.
Affliction: Starn believes that anything, so long as he can't see it, will change in function or form, this also applies to himself since he can't see all of himself all the time.
Passion: Stability, safety and routine.
Name: Jack Harper
Brief description / bio: A man in his 40s or 50s, who lived in the streets for most of his adult life, enduring all that entails. Upon spying upon a shady deal in a back alley, he discovered things too terrible for man to know, of ancient conspiracies and black ops.
Affliction: Firmly believes he has come across an ancient conspiracy spanning several nations, governments and organizations,
Passion: Truth, honesty, knowledge
Name: Stan Nolan (you don't have to go by it, but he does have a last name

Description: Stan's about 30ish, but he looks older. He's near bald and what hair he has left is grey. He looks just like an old man, and smiles often and freely. He does look rather disquieting though. ((Look at Harry Baldman's avatar and picture that, only he's 30ish.)) Stan was a relatively normal guy until he got hit by a car one day and went into a coma. When he came out, he was ... different.
Affliction: Stan discovered the truth in his long sleep: nothing really exists. All of reality is but an illusion, a vision. He's unsure if other people exist, and as he sinks further into insanity he'll grow less and less sure of that fact, but he knows that the physical world is nonexistent.
Passion: Stan wants to do something meaningful, which is obviously difficult when nothing is real. He also wants to enlighten other people, but that's a secondary concern.
Name: Jeremy Lane
Brief description / bio: A former undercover cop and now small time mall guard, his years in experience have given him a steel will and an athletic build. Him being tall and tattooed like a biker adds to his intimidating appearance, but those who know him out of the job say he's one of the nicest people you will meet.
Affliction: His years as an undercover cop have had him face some very disturbing events, and occasionally participate to keep his cover. His is almost able to keep this in check, but if he let's his guard down, a whole otherworld of horror washes over his real world, and his ability to tell reality from hallucination is blurred until he, or someone else, gets him to calm down and think rationally.
Passion: He likes being around his friends and doing well on the job. He believes doing at least one good thing a day for someone other than yourself makes life much more bearable and livable, as well as making the other guy's day better too.
Name: Edward Greaves
Brief description / bio: A short man with dark hair and brown eyes. He is quite thin, and cannot stop blinking.
Greaves was always interested in explosives, and now, with a mildly successful business (a *legal* room sized fireworks factory in his backyard - the landmines are a hobby, one he'd rather they not know about), he finally can sleep knowing that every one of them will perish if they try to get him.
Affliction: Heavy Paranoia.
Passion: Protecting his parents and children from any (imaginary or not) harm.
(Nicholas1024) Alexander Cerden
Brief description / bio: A young man who started off as something of a daydreamer with his head constantly in a book, he was drafted to be a soldier (or whatever passes for it in this universe), and the horror from the resulting wars (or equivalent) he experienced drove him to take refuge in the stories he's familiar with.
Affliction: When stressed he'll start showing traits and the personality of a character from his books... though whether it's a hero, villain, or even a mythical beast varies.
Passion: Protecting his family, regardless of what that means.
(Pencil_Art) Name: Darek Herman
Brief description / bio: Darek was almost driven mad through people always picking on him, whether it be over the internet, at school, or just in the general public. What really made him crack was conscription into the army. As expected, he was soon brought back due to disabilities.
He is a tall, dark haired man, with blue eyes and pale skin.
Affliction: Darek has a wandering mind, and often thinks of random fantasy or science fiction creatures. He sees ghostly apparitions of the objects of his mind, such as young dragons, an alien exotic man eating plant, or something else. They appear to solidify the more insane he gets.
Passion: Darek values respect above all else.
(Harry Baldman) Name: Joseph Free
Description: a tall, dark-skinned, dreadlocked man in his thirties wearing ratty clothes. Twitchy, fearful, with a darting gaze and a nervous manner, he looks and acts very much like a junkie. His speech often trembles, and he struggles to make eye contact with people he speaks to. It is readily apparent that he hasn't slept much in the last decade or so.
Affliction: he sees the devil following him everywhere that he goes, tainting all he does, pursuing him for a thing he once did that, he knows for certain, cost mankind as a whole its eventual spiritual salvation. His life now consists of trying to escape and ward off his constant pursuer, as he knows atonement to be entirely impossible.
Passion: The grand scheme, the fate of humanity as a whole, world peace, progress.
I may add people in as they come, or may need a charcter limit. We'll see
This sounds interesting, I think I'll join.
Name: Alexander Cerden
Brief description / bio: A young man who started off as something of a daydreamer with his head constantly in a book, he was drafted to be a soldier (or whatever passes for it in this universe), and the horror from the resulting wars (or equivalent) he experienced drove him to take refuge in the stories he's familiar with.
Affliction: When stressed he'll start showing traits and the personality of a character from his books... though whether it's a hero, villain, or even a mythical beast varies. (Whether they're characters from actual books or made up ones is up to the mod.)
Passion: Protecting his family, regardless of what that means.
Name: Darek Herman
Brief description / bio: Darek was almost driven mad through people always picking on him, whether it be over the internet, at school, or just in the general public. What really made him crack was conscription into the army. As expected, he was soon brought back due to disabilities.
He is a tall, dark haired man, with blue eyes and pale skin.
Affliction: Darek has a wandering mind, and often thinks of random fantasy or science fiction creatures. He sees ghostly apparitions of the objects of his mind, such as young dragons, an alien exotic man eating plant, or something else. They solidify the more insane he gets.
Passion: Never letting anyone bully him ever.
Name: Annie Lee Baker
Brief description / bio: Annie was a soccer mom, but when her children died in a freak accident, she went crazy, and went into a self-imposed exile.
Affliction: Annie sees every child as one of her children, and she is driven to protect them from harm, which usually goes into such extremes, such as kidnapping them.
Passion: Her children.
Name: Starn Gundar.
Brief description / bio: Starn was part of an experiment testing human reactions to small changes, every time he went to sleep, or in some cases, when he leaves the room, everything in the room/testing area would be slightly changed, wall paper a slightly different shade then it used to be, the page title of a book to be slightly changed, something small turned upside down, etc, Starn became obsessed with finding the changes, when the testing was aggressively accelerated due to a new project leader, various new tests including changing things simply when he looks away, completely pushed him over the edge, after murdering a careless scientist who had a bit too much to drink and entered the testing area, he escaped.
Affliction: Starn believes that anything, so long as he can't see it, will change in function or form, this also applies to himself since he can't see all of himself all the time.
Passion: Things that are, and consistently remain, normal.
Name: Jack Harper
Brief description / bio: A man in his 40s or 50s, who lived in the streets for most of his adult life, enduring all that entails. Upon spying upon a shady deal in a back alley, he discovered things too terrible for man to know, of ancient conspiracies and black ops.
Affliction: Firmly believes he has come across an ancient conspiracy spanning several nations, governments and organizations,
Passion: the Truth, and disrupting the "conspiracy" in any way.
Prologue
The sails whipped in the wind, thrusting the ship powerfully through the waves. "The quary is nigh, mateys!" Shouts Second Lieutenant Alexanderos C'Erden, favored son of the Duke himself. "Be on yer guard, though, bloody mermaids of the starboard bow! Fetch the harpoons, and mind their poison! It's deadly!" the ship sways rhythmically below him, but C'Erden pays no heed, eyes fixed purposefully on the horizon, where the triple masts of the enemy stand tall against the fading sun. Soon, he thought, soon.
But near at hand, the mermaids, bolder than usual, attacked! Climbing the sides of the ship, they were upon the crew, mercilessly slaughtering the men - officers, conscripted, and slaves alive. C'Erden screamed in fury, and lunged into the melee, calling his troops to rally about him. A fierce battle ensued, metal clanging on metal, thudding on flesh the screams of men and mermaid rising sharply in pitch, then falling away, to a gentle, rhythmic weeping as the battle ended as quickly as it begun.
"Well done, men!" C'Erden called. He patted one soldier on the back, and the soldier turns toward him, tears streaming down his strangely young face, a curious hiccoughing sob coming from his throat. "Buck up, brother, we have work to do!" Turning away, he goes to inspect the wounded, and their faces turn toward him, tears streaming down their similar faces as they sob uncontrolledly. C'Erden says a few words of comfort, then turns to the officers to organize the clean up and the chase. the officers look back in fear, their identical faces streaming tears as they weep, hiccoughing though their sobs as C'Erden towers over them, baffled and suddenly afraid.
He turns once again, and looks to the wheelhouse, the galley, anything to avoid those fearful faces. He looks to the sails whipping in the wind .... no ... not sails ... curtains ... gently wafting in the breeze from the open window. He looks past them to the masts of the ships, now recognizeable as the tall buildings across the river, in the capitol.
The crying doesn't stop as Alexander comes to a moment of stark clarity, and he turns, looking for the source of the sound. The young girl sits on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as she watches Alexander's mad antics cause havoc with the decor of the room. Pictures are tilted or knocked off the walls, a dresser is turned on it's side against the door, blankets are hung upon the ceiling fan, and dolls are scattered about in various stages of mournful distress. A call comes from the hallway, accompanied by a knock on the door, and a rattling of the doorknob. "Alex, is everything okay?"
The monster towered above the houses along the way. it's foul breath seeped through it's teeth in short, ragged bursts as it scanned the deserted uldings, looking for something, anything to devour. Darek knew that if it spotted him, it would bear down on him with speed and ferocity, and wouldn't stop until Darek lay broken at it's feet, barely a snack for the great beast. He kept his head down, as he sneaked from one pile of debris to the next.
A sudden sound of concrete crumbling drew Darek's eyes sharply upward, fearing that the building against which he cowered was about to collapse on him. Heart pounding, he watched as the second story tilted slowly, a wall giving way and collapsing into the alley nearby. Darek wasn't safe yet, as another sound, aprimal sound,welled up withing the beast.
Darek looked up again, further, above the collapsed wall, above the edge of the roof, where four claws gripped the eave, up the long, scaly neck, eyes fixating on the jagged grin, the black, soulless eyes of the Enemy. the Enemy's mouth slowly opened, and Darek's doom was assured. "Dinner's ready, son. Come on down when you're cleaned up, okay?" Darek screamed, then blinked, looking into the kind, wrinkled eyes of his father, waiting patiently in the doorway to his room. Heart pounding .. Darek tried to focus on the moment, while shadows and spectres taunted him from the edges of sight, and his dad stared. "Son?"
She scribbled furiously, putting all her rage into her pen, the ink, the paper. That school board would know the atrocities that bus lady committed. No child was safe with a woman like that in the driver's seat. But before Annie could finish the sixth page, an alarm beeped, pulling her away. "Dinner" she muttered, and walked into the cluttered, dark little kitchen, pulling her chicken pot pie out of the oven to cool. A knock came on the front door, but Annie ignored it. It came a gain, twice, three times, four. Then it stopped, as it should, and the sound of feet descending the front steps assured her that they were going indeed.
As she sits down to her cold pot pie, hours after it had come out of the oven (she had been distracted by another letter, this time to the city about crosswalks), the sound of laughter draws her. she rises slowly, reluctantly, and walks haltingly to the window. Taking a deep breath, she pulls the curtains aside and peers out into the late afternoon sun. the playground across the pond was nearly deserted, but two small children ran and giggled, playing a game only children would understand. Terror fills her - the images of animals in the woods, falls into the pond, or worse begin flooding her mind. She couldn't go out ... it was too much!
but ...
but ... she couldn't leave them to their fate, she just couldn't!
Sweat rolled down Starn's face, and it had little to do with the heat. He was out, out! they were after him, he knew they would be after him. or would they? nothing is certain, nothing is real. But what if they were? In a strange, gut wrenching way, he hoped they were chasing him. It couldn't all be a dream ... could it? Starn walked quickly down the street, looking for something, a way out, something familiar. He saw so many faces he couldn't recognize - that itself was strangely comforting - the city was always full of faces he didn't recognize.
Ahead, Starn sees a sight that fills him with ... hope? He dashes into the fast food joint, it's familiar sights, sounds, and smells calming his still too rapid heartbeat. The sweat on his face dried slowly as he waited in line to order, repeatedly touching himself, checking his pockets, straightening his hair, shifting his feet, to be sure he was still there.
finally, Starn is standing before the register, staring at the cashier. Was she the same one that was there when he came in? He can't remember. She speaks. her voice sounds familiar, it must be the same girl. the words were the same as always, and Starn pulls out his wallet, and counts. He counts again. And A third time, and comes up with the same number each time. "May I take your order?" She asks?
Jack hauls himself into the dumpster. He begins to look, feverishly, for something, anything. The smells of half rotten food don't disgust him any longer - they haven't in years. but then, neither does the smell of almost warm food draw him. food wasn't the reason he was here today. Hunger gnawed at him, but something gnawed harder, and another urge drove him forward.
Scraping food off a moist and sticky paper, he scanned it quickly. This. Another piece of the puzzle. He stuffs it into one of the pockets of his overlarge coat. He continues on, digging deeper. There must be more. He digs until his fingers scrape roughly against the bottom of the dumpster. Nothing. Jack sits back, nearly oblivious to the filth, eyes darting back and forth rapidly. he needed more information. the clues must be somewhere!
Climbing out of the dumpster, Jack makes his way back to the shelter, and barely objects when e is ordered into the shower. He washes quickly, but lingers in the shower, tracing patterns on the wall in the soap. He is angered when he is interrupted by the next man in need of cleansing, but gets out and dries quickly, dressing in the bath clothes that were laid out for him before taking his clothes to the laundry in the basement. It is here, as he is loading the machine, that Jack notices that something is missing. The paper! Who took it? Another bum? The shelter? Someone else? Anger and despair well up in Jack, forcing him to act.
This looks like it's going to be awesome.
Also, books I like include The Lord of the Rings, the Dresden Files, the Discworld series, the Redwall series, the Dark Sea Annals, the Dragonkeeper Chronicles, the Three Musketeers, the Chronicles of Narnia, and there's a bunch of video game/comic stories that I could add if more characters are needed.
As reality snapped back into focus, Alexander shuddered slightly, before putting a hand to the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, trying to ward off the memories.
"Ah... yes, I'm fine. Just got a little bit carried away for a moment.", he called back, before returning his attention to his daughter seated upon the bed. What was there to say? His... episodes were getting more frequent, and this one had been worse than usual, judging from the state of the room. He knew his family worried about him, but how could he convince them it would be fine when he couldn't convince himself?
"I'm sorry, Kay.", he said, pulling the blanket from the ceiling fan and wrapping it around her shoulders. "I just... I... didn't mean to scare you.", Alex managed, the words sounding lame even to him as he gave her a gentle hug. "Let's get this room cleaned up, alright?"
You can still see the doubt in her mind... the fear for me that she tries to hide. This must have been how Sam felt when I... I mean, when Frodo was falling under the effects of the preciousss... No. Have to keep this in check, at least in front of her. I can't scare her more.
Heading over to the door, Alexander roughly dragged the dresser to an upright position, pulling it out of the way of the door, if not quite to its former position. A quick circuit around the room restored the frames to the walls, if not entirely straight, and more importantly, collected all the scattered doll pieces. Depositing them on the bed, he asked Kaitlyn,
"That should be all of them. Do you want to help me put them back together?"
TLDR: Run damage control. Comfort the girl and repair the room.
Ooh, interest activate!
Name: STAN (no last name given)
Description: STAN's about 30ish, but he looks older. He's near bald and what hair he has left is grey. He looks just like an old man, and smiles often and freely. He does look rather disquieting though. ((Look at Harry Baldman's avatar and picture that, only he's 30ish.)) STAN was a relatively normal guy until he got hit by a car one day and went into a coma. When he came out, he was ... different.
Affliction: STAN discovered the truth in his long sleep: nothing really exists. All of reality is but an illusion, a vision. He's unsure if other people exist, and as he sinks further into insanity he'll grow less and less sure of that fact, but he knows that the physical world is nonexistent.
Passion: STAN wants to do something meaningful, which is obviously difficult when nothing is real. He also wants to enlighten other people, but that's a secondary concern.
Aw, I was going to sign up yesterday, but couldn't think of any character concepts.
Name: Joseph Free
Description: a tall, dark-skinned, dreadlocked man in his thirties wearing ratty clothes. Twitchy, fearful, with a darting gaze and a nervous manner, he looks and acts very much like a junkie. His speech often trembles, and he struggles to make eye contact with people he speaks to. It is readily apparent that he hasn't slept much in the last decade or so.
Affliction: he sees the devil following him everywhere that he goes, tainting all he does, pursuing him for a thing he once did that, he knows for certain, cost mankind as a whole its eventual spiritual salvation. His life now consists of trying to escape and ward off his constant pursuer, as he knows atonement to be entirely impossible.
Passion: to ward off the devil's influence and halt its relentless pursuit, Joseph tries to perform altruistic acts and do as much good with as little compromise toward evil as possible. This helps. Temporarily.
Roll:5
As reality snapped back into focus, Alexander shuddered slightly, before putting a hand to the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, trying to ward off the memories.
"Ah... yes, I'm fine. Just got a little bit carried away for a moment.", he called back, before returning his attention to his daughter seated upon the bed. What was there to say? His... episodes were getting more frequent, and this one had been worse than usual, judging from the state of the room. He knew his family worried about him, but how could he convince them it would be fine when he couldn't convince himself?
"I'm sorry, Kay.", he said, pulling the blanket from the ceiling fan and wrapping it around her shoulders. "I just... I... didn't mean to scare you.", Alex managed, the words sounding lame even to him as he gave her a gentle hug. "Let's get this room cleaned up, alright?"
You can still see the doubt in her mind... the fear for me that she tries to hide. This must have been how Sam felt when I... I mean, when Frodo was falling under the effects of the preciousss... No. Have to keep this in check, at least in front of her. I can't scare her more.
Heading over to the door, Alexander roughly dragged the dresser to an upright position, pulling it out of the way of the door, if not quite to its former position. A quick circuit around the room, with Jospeh watching cautiously rom the now opened door, restored the frames to the walls, if not entirely straight, and more importantly, collected all the scattered doll pieces. Depositing them on the bed, he asked Kaitlyn,
"That should be all of them. Do you want to help me put them back together?"
The child looked into Alexander’s eyes, her sobs stilled, and nodded slowly, reaching for a leg, a torso, and some stuffing. “Oh, Alex …” Joseph sighs, and goes, leaving the door slightly ajar as he does.
Some time later, room darkened, child sleeping comfortably, Alexander closes the door behind him and turns toward the hall. He knows he must talk to Joseph and melissa, and soon. Their love for him made him strong, but … but it pput them in danger. He just couldn’t bear if anything … he looks down the hall, toward his room, warm, familiar, and … safe. Then he looks toward the stairwell, down which the voices of fhis brother and sister-in-law could be heard. Maybe … maybe this can wait til tomorrow. To sleep, perchance to dream, or down the rabbit hole to meet the Red Queen - no! Down the STAIRS, to meet his FAMILY?
Roll:2
Darek stares, speechless, at his father. “I’m not hungry!” He snarls, more forcefully than he intended. “Son,” his father begins, gently. “Just leave me alone!” Darek yells. He shoulders his way past his dad, stomps down the stairs, and out the door, slamming it behind him. Darek walks for some time, burning with embarrassed shame and regret. “I’m sorry, dad” he mumbles to himself. A couple teens nearby break out in laughter, and Darek looks sharply up at them. Did they hear him, talking to himself? They think this is funny? He stares for a moment, as a dark, unnaturally thin figure fades into being in the shadows behind the teens. The world darkens suddenly, as if the setting sun fell behnd a bank of storm clouds, and Darek shudders.
Roll:6
“No!” Annie screams. Annie’s fear for the children absorbs and is heightened by her fear of the outside. She fumbles for a minute with the deadbolt and chains, tears falling unnoticed down her cheeks, dripping on her bare feet. Finally! The door opens and she runs out into the yard, tripping and scuffing her knees. Her eyes dart toward the forest - were those bushes moving? What could be there? Fear lends her speed, and she dashes around the pond. The children notice her about halfway around. Their puzzled expressions turn slowly to nervousness, their laughter stilled. Annie runs toward them, and they turn and run toward their house “Mom, mom! Dad!” they call. Annie catches up, and sweeps the children into her arms, up the deck stairs, and through the kitchen door, which she slams behind her before lowering the kids to the floor. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeats, holding each of their faces in turn and hugging them tightly.
“Oh my God! Tom!” She hears.
Roll: 4
“I’ll have the number four please. I always have the number four. Light on the lettuce, extra sauce, no ice in the drink. I don’t like how it melts.” Starn laughs a little nervously, maybe a little too loudly at that. He carefully counts out exact change and places it on the counter, with the coins stacked on top of the bills. He slides the stack forward with his fingertips, and moves to the end to the counter to wait. He arranges a stack of ketchu packets while he does. Outside, the wind picks up, and the door opens, letting another person into the resteraunt. How many does that make? Stan wonders? How many were there before? He can’t quite remember. Heh counts. Seventeen. Six workers, and eleven customers. “Number fifteen?” A voice calls, and Starn’s food is there, on the counter.
Roll:3
Giving into rage, Jack shudders in place. It seems not even this shelter is safe from Them anymore. He glances around (have to keep Them from noticing, always keep Them from noticing), taking in the faces, the atmosphere of crushed dreams and despair (under Their crushing heel). He doesn't notice anyone who might now be inspecting his prize, but They are good at this, sneaky, conniving, and always everywhere.
But... maybe They had yet to find his secret stash. He had to check, for if They found it, all would be lost. Because then They'd KNOW, and if They KNEW then no hope would be left for those who seek the Truth.
Approaching the loose tile beneath which the Proof is hidden, he casts quick looks around, before lifting it and looking within. Before he touches the tile, he hears footsteps. Nervous, Jack stands quickly, and shuffles away to a stall. He closes the door, lowers the seat, and sits on the reservoir, placing his feet on the seat so as not to be seen by the intruder.
Other Stories Begin
The nurses are nice, stan thinks, as he calmly eats the food before him, more out of habit than hunger. What need, hunger, if the body is illusory, after all? He smiles suddenly, thoughts chased away rom this linbe of thought by the antics of the Stutterer and the Repeater, across the table. Of all his companions in this place, he liked these two the most. Stan would do anything to bring back the Stutterer’s lost love. But, back to what? He wonders. Perhaps instead, the Stutterer would be happier going on to her? Something about this idea appeals to Stan, but something about it horrifies him, too. After all, what if … what if this world IS real? It’s nonsense, of course, but … what if? Ah, what does it matter anyway? Does anything matter? Stan must know! If something, anything really matters, the nStan can Make A Difference. Stan could Change the World. Another smile comes to his face as he contemplates this, for a moment the thought that the world is an illusion is far from his mind.
“Mr Nolan? Mr. Nolan?” No response. A sigh. “Stan?”
“Oh! Yes, nurse?” Stan greets her warmly, with a big smile. Her eyes soften. Did she smile in return? “Stan, here are your meds for this evening. Won’t you please take them? Stan looks down at the two red pills in the tiny paper cup. Stan frowns slightly at the pills, then looks up into those gentle, deep blue eyes, and the illusion settles a little more firmly in his heart.
Jeremy stumbles out from the bar, a little inebriated, but happy enough. His friends waved in farewell, and the four of them parted ways. The bright streetlights glared in Jeremy’s eyes, but he didn’t mind. It hid the darkness, in more ways than one. Through the fog in his mind, a fog of alcohol rather than of horror, Jeremy guides himself carefully down the street. It’s cold out tonight, and the sharp wind wakens his senses a little. He wraps his coat a little tighter around himself and peers up at the streetsign. Six more blocks. An easy walk. He crosses with the light and with a few other pedestrians, who appear to take no more note of him than of any other. Perhaps one smelled a little on his breath, perhaps not. It didn’t matter, really.
Jeremy is drawn out of his reverie half a block further along, though. What brought him up so suddenly? He wonders. Think! He looks slowly around, senses heightened again, but somehow … indistinct. Suddenly, he realizes - a sound in the alley. His police teaining and senses come to the fore, and he listens. A muffled voice? Some quiet movement? What drew his attention. He peers cautiously into the alley, and the darkness peers back. Not eyes withi9n the darkness - the darkness itself. Jeremy can feel himself slipping. He has to get away! He needs the light! He needs to get home! But … but why do his instincts tell him to stay and investigate?
He was thirsty. When was the last time he had a drink? He must drink … needs to keep his health up, or else … he forced his mind away from that line of thought. The thirst dragged him up, out of unconsciousness. How long? He wondered, struggling to sit up. He looked around through half-lidded eyes, carefully examining everything. Danger was everywhere, he knew that. But it was in some places more than in others. He could fix this! He just had to, had to, had to what? Keep going. He knew he’d find what he needed. He had to!
A bus trundled by. Joseph watched it for a moment, then jerked his eyes away quickly, realizing with horror what he had done. He wasn’t watching the bus, he was looking in the windows. And someone had looked back. Oh God, he may have tainted someone! He had to keep moving. He crossed the street as he approached a church - best to stay away, lest he taint even what little hope that edifice represented. Or lest he fall victim to the trap his Pursuer might have laid within. Not all churches were on the side of Good - even the believers knew that.
“Hi there!” the voice was cheerful, bright, and attractive. Joseph risked a look - at her feet, at her waist, at her arms, a glance at her hair, then away quickly. Comfortable jeans, tennis shoes, a bright red coat, soft brown hair. “I heard you say you were thirsty. I have some soda here, if you want some?” She made the question sound like an invitation, like a child calling to a skittish kitten. “I have an extra sandwich too, I can’t eat all thaat my mom packed. Here” A plastic wrapped sandwich - ham and cheese, is looked like - appeared in his line of sight, a delicate thumb visible on top, a wrist disappearing into thered coat sleeve. Joseph’s eyes were drawn upward, almost against his will …
Roll: 5
Masering his rising fear, Darek walks quickly past the teens and the aparition behind them. It’s just a fantasy, anyway. Or so he tells himself repeatedly as he makes his way around the park and down some side streets, back home. Standing at the back door, Darek takes a breath and steadies himself, before pushing open te door and stepping into the kitchen. “Dad?” he calls. He hears someone shift in the dining room, and the sound of the TV coming from the living room. A little nervous abot apologizing, he calls again “dad?”
“Darek?” His father’s voice comes from the living room.
Goal:Apologize to father,. Clean room.
Roll:4
Wipeout1024
"Oh my god, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I thought they were in danger."
Annie lets go of the children and explains that something was in the woods. A look of uncertainty enter’s the woman’s face, as the kids rush to her and wrap their arms around her waist. She looks toward the window nervously. “Danger?”
At that moment, a man looms in the doorway behind the woman. “What’s going on here?” “She says something was ater the kids!” the man looks at Annie suspiciously, but makes his way to the window. “Kids, go wash up for dinner.” He orders, and they comply withouot complaint. “I don’t see anything out there. Who are you, anyway? And why are you in our house?”
Roll: 6
Starn takes two napkins and uses them to take the tray of food. He places thetray on a clean table, wipes the seat seven times, and sits. Starn dumps the fries and arranges them, irst by color, then by length, then by thickness, then by shape, each time removing one fry and consuming it. In this way, he passes the evening, though every time the door opens, he fears it may be a cop, come to arrest him for his crimes. By closing time, Starn still sits, half a Soda brand beverage sitting before him, with four straws now poking out of the lid, the fry carton and the burger wrapper each folded neatly on the tra beside it. “We’re closing, sir, may I take your trash?”
Roll:6
Jack peers over the top of the stall, and watches as the intruder, back to Jack, settles in front of a urinal. Jack is still in that position when the guy turns after doing his business. He spots Jack, and his brow furrows. “The #$%& you looking at?”
GOAL: Unveil the conspiracy
Roll:2
The pills in thecup fade out of Stan’s reality, and the cup follows. A … greying … begins to discolor the nurse’s hand as well. Stan is distantly aware of a commotion brewing behind him, when something causes the illusive room to tilt, and the specter of the nurse rushes forward, to fill Stan’s vision. Real or not, Stan’s back sends some convincing signals to him that he hurts.
Roll:6
Jeremy closes his eyes for a moment, and repeats, firmly: “It doesn’t exist, it doesn’t exist.” He opens his eyes, and sure enough, the apparition is nowhere to be seen. Jeremy turns and runs, rushing home as quickly as he can, ignoring whatever instinct urged him to investigate. Arriving home, he rushes through the door, up the stairs, and to his apartment, locking and deadbolting the door behind him. Diving under the covers, he hides his head under his pillow and continues repeating “it doesn’t exist, it doesn’t exist, it doesn’t exist!”
Roll:2
Joseph stares into this woman’s eyes, not really seeing her at all. Unable to speak, Jjoseph’s whole body goes stiff with terror at the young lady’s touch. She speaks, but, though he hears her words, their meaning is lost on him. The smell of sulpher rises into his conscience, and dark igures, still small, still far off, dance at the edges of sight.
Another Fate Is Set In Motion
Edward added some magnesium to the little bowl on his workbench, and mixed the concoction carefully. It looked about right. He took a tiny portion and placed it on the test plate, careful to place the rest of the mix well to the side, covered with a leather apron. He turned to the materiels cabinet and unlocked the drawer containing the matches. He lit one, used it to light a long, thin candle, extinguished the match in the ever-present bucket of dirty water eneath the bench, and extended the small flame of the candle to the pile. The pile erupted in a geyser of bright sparkling light, burning quickly donw to embers. Yes, the formula is right. Edward began looking for a container to store the mix in while he prepared the housings for this batch of fireworks.
The shed door opened with a creak, and Edward instinctively reached or his knife. Wipping around, knife cluched tightly in his fist, he is horrified to see his son in the doorway. “Michael!” He yelled. “you are NOT to be in here!”
“Momma says you havea customer,” Michael stammers, stepping back reflexively.
“Out, out!” Edward demands firmly, sheathing his knife. “Tell her to leave him on the porch.” Edward’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t let him in, did she?”
“I … I don’t know,” Michael says, eyes wide. He then scampers away, not to the door, but around theside of the house. A moment later, Edward hears the gate bang. A fear rises in his chest - they might get him. Just who is this so called customer, anyway?
Roll: 6
Alexander headed downstairs to talk. As he descends the stairs, he gets smaller, and smaller, until he has to first climb, then drop, down the stairs. He steels himself against this inconvenience, and hikes the mile or so to the living room, looking up at the towering figures of Joseph and Melissa. “We have to talk” he says, and, surprisingly, they both hear and turn their heads to him. “Keep your head, Alex, this is going well. Melissa isn’t even wearing red. You can do this.”
Roll: 3
Darek walks to the living room, looks at his dad, then looks down. “Sorry ‘bout earlier” he mutters. “I’ll go clean my room now.” Then he heads upstairs and shoves some stuff into his closet and sorta straightens his sheets and blankets, putting his pillow back at the head of the bed, kicking a garden gnome out the window in the process. There. Clean. I guess.
Roll:4
Annie’s explanation seems to satisfy the couple, more or less. At lesat they aren’t calling the cops or screaming at her, like some parents. They seem a little skeptical about the supposed threat though.
“Look, I think you’d better go. But first, we need contact information from you, full name, address, telephone, mkay? We’ll give you a number to reach us at next time you think the kids might be a little too close to the scary spiders and grasshoppers in the woods, mkay?” Annie doesn’t like the father’s tone, but considering that she intruded into their home unnanounced … it’s understandable. Still, a little gratitude for saving their kids’ lives would be nice. Not that Annie, REALLY believes there was something out there. It was just in her head, after all, rihgt? Maybe. Maybe.
GOAL: GET BACK HOME
Wipeout1024
Roll: 4
“Thank you, miss.” Starn says, carefully pushing thetray toward her before standing up, straightening his trousers, and wiping his hands on each other once, twice, three times, four, five, and done. He grabs a napkin and uses it to open the door. Once outside, he folds the napkin into quarters before placing it carefully in the bin, trying not to touch the bin at all. Starn looks around, carefully examining the street. Cars have moved, and the rain has increased a bit. Starn tries to remember the clasiification for this kind of rain. Sprinkling? Drizzling? Dripping? The different cars and darkened sky ithc at his mind - every slight change is troubling - but they are well within “normal,” so Starn is able to keep the thoughts relatively quiet. Now … where to?
Roll:1
Jack doesn’t answer, directly. He does mutter to himself, though. “He’s one of them. He’s after my stash. He is part of the lie. He lies!” And, overcome with rage, Jack rushes out of the stall at the man. [3 v 4] Jeremy lands the first blow, but the guy was looking or a fight, and slams him up against the stalls. The two scuffle for a minute, before the man lands a solid punch to Jack’s stomach, dropping him to the floor. Jack crawls toward his stash, intent on protecting his only leads to the conspiracy. The man sees the loosened tile, and lifts it. “This? this trash? And he laughs and snatches the stash of newspaper clippings, torn pages of books, and other flimflam up, holding it above his head.“Sicko. You want this? huh? Yes? Well, come get it!” It is only when he lifts his arm above his head that Edward notices the tattoo on the inside of his upper arm, a Spiral with an X through it and three eyes located radially around the edge. The Mark! ((I called Jack bot h Jeremy and Edward this time, lol))
Roll:5
"Painisillusoryactionsarebutadreamimustnowlookupandbeholdthetruth" STAN babbles.
Stan recites this mantra, but the pain is real. Very real. It isn’t the pain that convinces Stan of reality, if only for a moment. It is the smell. The smell of the woman he has collided with, mixed with the smell of cheap, institutional gravy and artificial butter and rasperry jelly now dripping down his collar. Stan lifts himself off the nurse, and helps her up as well, before turning to the source of the commotion. Predictably, the source is a fight amongst several of the inmates. It doesn’t look like the fight is winding down, either, and the two orderlies in the room are overmatched trying to break it up. Shouting can be heard from all sides, some articulate, others incoherent, some simply howls, and Stan and the nurse are right in the middle of the room.
Roll:1
The screams make sleep impossible. Jeremy cluthces his head, and repeats “itisn’trealitisn’trealitisn’treaitisn’treal” until his voice begins to merge with the sounds of anger, the sounds of fear, the sounds of raw pain, pounding on him from all around, from within. The sceams coalesce, and one image, part memory, part … who knows? .. comes into focus. Jeremy stands up, unable to resist, and stares with horror at the apparition kneeling at the foot of his bed, bleeding and sobbing. So young .. she shouldn’t be suffering so. Jeremy reaches for the gun at his hip. It would be a mercy to kill her. So much pain.
Roll:5
"S-s-sorry, I must- I must go..."
Joseph dashes out the door of the little café he found himself in, slightly smushing the sandwich in his hand against the glass door as he pushes his way out.
“Good by, it was niceto meet you!”
Joseph looks about, spying several eateries, some shops, a hot dog cart, a few offices, and some clearly labeled street signs. It’s late evening, overcast, and chilly. He is in a fairly large town or a small city. He takes a long sip from the straw sticking out of the large disposeable cup in his left hand and looks again at the slightly damaged ham and cheese sandwich in his right, as he walks, avoiding eye contact with any pedestrians, who all seem content to leave him alone, each busy wit htheir own (doomed)lives, their own thoughts.
Roll:6
Knife tucked away, Shed locked and bolted, key secured, Edward storms off around the side of the house. The brightly colored hangings on the porch flutter slightly in the wind as Edward rounds the corner, past the large sign in the front yard declaring boldly “Fireworks!” and up the stairs. He spots the man, idly browsing one of the shelves of sparklers. The man spots Edward as he climbs the steps, and goes back to rowzing, perhaps mistaking him for another customer.
“What do you want?” Edward demands roughly.
“Oh, are you the owner? My family is going to a picnic and I was looking for an ass-“ ((looking for an ass? Goal achieved))
“We’re closed.”
“But-“
Edward grabs a wooden pole leaning against the wall.
“Edward!” His wife sounds a little shocked, a little pissed.
“Hey man, easy, I just wanted some fireworks, I’m going.”
Edward manages to not hit the guy as he storms off.
“Edward, that was ridiculous. What’s wrong with you?” His wife demands, from over by the checkout table. “We don’t even close for two hours. You have to stop this.”
Roll: 3
Goal: Get through the conversation and get to sleep without a major incident.
This isn't so bad... if things go poorly, all I need to do is find the candy... or was it a potion... that would make me grow back to normal size. Normal. Come on Alice... Alex, focus. Sometimes the rabbit hole contains nothing more interesting than a rabbit, there's nothing to be scared of.
Having momentarily regained his composure, Alexander responded, "Yeah, I'm alright for now. I've been trying not to lose my head, but things have just been a little hectic lately. Hey, do you think you could hand me that vial - err - water bottle?"
Melissa offers the bottle and Alex reaches up with both hands. After a moment of struggle, he manages to tilt it without spilling it or being crushed under it, and drink. He then grows to normal size and feels a moment of hope, quickly dashed as he grows much too large for the room. Shifting uncomfortably, he knocks a standing lamp over. Fortunately it doesn’t break, and he manages to upright it without overturning either chair the couple sit in, nor the tv or anything else.
Floundering a bit during the lull in conversation, he asked the obvious, "So... what happens now?"
“Alex …” Joseph begins with a sigh. “Just get some sleep, you look exhausted. And try not to knock down the house on the way.” The wry smile he gives you and the chuckle Melissa responds with take the sting out o the rebuke. “o-okay. Thank you.” Alex turns to go, but get’s lodged in the door. ”Uh … could you give me a hand?” Joseph looks at him oddly for a moment, but sighs, gets up, lants a hand firmly in Alex’s back, and pushes. He doesn’t stop pushing, though Alex slides easily through the door. Instead, Joseph continues to push him, up the tairs, down the hall, and to his room. “Good night, Alex.”
Roll: 3
Darek leaves his clumsily cleaned room and heads to the dining room, where he finds a plate of food, covered with a towel to keep it warm. It isn’t. The pixies pulling on his ears and hair, knocking his peas across the table, and splashing in the little pool of gravy in his mashed potatos make for a less than peaceful meal. Full, thoug perhaps unsatisfied, Darek examines the mess the table has become. “Stupid pixies.”
Roll:1
Annie starts to think, but panic wells up in her at the thought of having these eole know anything about her. “I can’t tell you that! I don’t even have a phone anyway! I’m nobody, leave me alone!” She backs up, fumbling for the door, but finding the kitchen sink instead. “I’m going to call the police, Tom.” The woman says. The man nods at her, and stays put in the doorway as she leaves to another room.
GOAL: GET BACK HOME
Roll: 4
Starn considers his options. He still has his apartment on Cherry Street, he thinks. If his memory is of THIS reality, they let him maintain that. He even got to go there one weekend a month. He might still be friends with Sam, who lives over on Sixth, and John and Sarah would tke him in, bt they live about sixty miles from here. Starn cats his eyes around. There’s always the homeless shelter, or … he eyes an alley, imagining grey coated figures huddled around a barrel fire, warming their fingerless gloves and talking about … whatever it is homeless people talk about around barrel fires.
Goal:Find a place to live.
Roll:3
"You will never take me alive!"
Jack charges the man, a feverish look in his eye [3 v 5] and gets a boot in the gut for his effort. He wheezes and falls to the ground.
“That all you got?” the man sneers.
It’s at this point that another figure enters the bathroom. “No fighting in the shelter. You both know the rules. I’m going to haveto ask you both to leave. Now.”
Roll:4
"...apologies, nurse."
Stan turns to the commotion. Two of the inmates are tugging at a nearly empty tray, the former contents now coating their clothes, the table, the floor. Three of the inmates are wrestling against the two orderlies with varying degrees of success, and several inmates are simply screaming, more than one rocking back and forth in their seats, two standing straight up with their heads tilted back, another pacing quickly in a corner. This last paces in such short arcs that he is very nearly spinning in place. Some of the others are starting to get violent now, and a tray whizzes by Stan’s face, not particularly close, but not far, either.
Roll:6
Jeremy looks at his hand, mortified to see the gun there. “No!” he cries, throwing it across the room at the window. It soundlessly passes through, tumbling as it goes. Jeremy runs to the bathroom, ulls open the cabinet, and hauls his medical kit back to the bedroom. He rushed to the girl, dumps the contents on the bed, and reaches for her, intent on stopping the bleeding. She looks up at him and screeches, shoving his hands roughly away as she scuttles backward toward the wall, trailing blood across Jeremy’s bed. His hands come away bloodstained.
GOAL: Save her. Get her to the hospital.
Roll:5
“Wait a minute … Did I buy this sandwich and drink? Or did that woman give me these?” Joseph thinks back . He ws talking ot this woman, she offered him some food, and he froze up for a moment - it’s hard to remember exactly what happened there. But ater he came to, he ran, and the food was in his hand … Oh God. Joseph runs back the way he came. Which eatery was it? He is spared the search as he recognizes the lady as she comes out from one of the café’s a short distance away. Mortified, and showing it in every feature, he approaches. “Miss. I’m very sorry, but I cannot accept these rom you. Thank you for your kindness.” He thrusts the food into her unwilling hands and dashes off, the hunger gnawing at him even more sharply than a moment ago.
Roll:6
“I don't trust you, you’re one of them, aren’t you? Why did I even marry you?” She looks a little shocked again, thogh not surprised. “You can be such an ass, Edward.”
"We close now. The shed has a broken lock, and I need to fix it."
“Fine. You want it closed, YOU haul all this stuff back to the storage room!” She stomps off into the house, calling for the kids as she goes.
Roll: 4
Morning finds Alex well rested and normal sized. [3] The sun shining in his eyes hurts. Sun? Sun! Alex scrambles back away rom the window, wrapping himself in his blankets to protect from the horrible, burning orb. He cats about wildl. There is no escape - the ray of sun pierces the room, blanketing the door in golden light. Wait, the closet!
Roll: 6
Darek takes all the dishes into the kitchen and runs some water in the sink while he goes back and wipes down the tablle, chasing errant peas all over the room. HE then heads back to the kitchen and begins placing dishes in the soapy water. They squeal and giggle as he submerges them. “Ow! Too hot” complains a saucer. This reminds Darek of Fantasia for some reason, which is odd, since the characters he sees are cleaerly from Beauty and the Beast. Too late now, though - the water overflows th sink and the mops begin to dance. The front of Drek’s shirt and pants are wet, and his shoes are soaked. At least the dishes are clean.
Roll:4
“N-no, no, don’t do that! H-here!” Annie hastily grabs a pen from the cup on the counter and hastily writes down her information on the nearest piece of paper. “I-I gotta go. Nicetomeetyougoodbye!” Fumbling with the door, Annie manages to get outside and down the steps into the yard before the panic sets in again. She’s so exposed.
Roll: 4
Starn walks two blocks, to the nearest bus stop, and waits. Fouteen minutes, thirty two seconds later, he is on the bus, heading to Sixth. Starn checks himself over several times. Everything still seems to be there. Twenty One minutes, twelve seconds later, he reaches his bus stop. Two hundred and ninety three steps later, Starn is knocking on the door where he believes Sam lives. Two minutes six seconds later, the door opens. “Hey Starn, this is a surprise! Kinda late for a visit, though. What’s going on?”
Roll:2
Jack lunges for the man, trying to snatch the papers from hi, but is shoved roughly back. “Look what you did! You got us both kicked out! I’ll see you outside, punk!” He yells, and storms away. A door slams, and another. Jack gathers the very few scraps of paer he has left, under the watchful eye of the shelter manager and another worker who came at the sound of shouting. He is then ushered to the door, whch closes firmly behind him. He hears a deadbolt slide into place.
Roll:3
Stan starts shouting about how it isn’t real. This has the expected result, and there is a gradual sift in the fight in Stan’s direction. He get’s shoved, jostled, and generally banged about. Convinced that the fist coming his way is, in fact, not, Stan is rather alarmed when it does, in fact, make contact with his nose, sending him reeling.
Roll:2
Jeremy grabs the girl, and pulls her forward, trying to hold her down firmly. She kicks him, and he slaps her. “Hold still, damn it! I’m trying to help!” The girl holds still as Jeremy roughly bandages her. Very still. Too still.
Roll:2
Joseph turns to run, and trips over one of the metal chairs at the outdoor tables. Oops. He limps away, looking for a hotdog cart. The ankle doesn’t seem serious. He stands in line at the nearest cart, wincing slightly, and fishes in his pocket for money. He comes up with nothing. Uh. Shoulda foreseen this little snag. When’s the last time Joseph went to a bank? Or … worked? Being on the run from Satan kinda puts a crimp in one’s budget, a little.
Roll:4
After about an hour of hauling, all the fireworks are carefully stored and Edward heads to the shed. While inspecting the back wall, he hears his kids voices, then the car doors, then the engine. The shed seems secure.
Roll: 5
Leaving the kitchen, water still spilling out of the sink, Alex sloshes upstairs and changes out of his wet clothes.” May as well do a full load” he thinks, and gathers an armful. He heads to the basement, where the washer is, and begins stuffing clothes in.
“My kitchen! ALEX!!!”
He cringes. His mom’s voice is terrifying. At least Alex is dry. He has a feeling it isn’t going to remain that way.
Roll:5
Annie runs. The twilight darkness fuels her speed. The shadows reaching for her from the woods threaten to consume her, if she is too slow. Out of breath, she arrives at home at last and slams the door behind her. What a horrible day this has been. She shuts the blinds, pulls the curtains, locks the doors, turns on some lamps, and curls up in a blanket on the couch.
Roll: 1
Is this really Sam? Did he always have a beard? Were his eyes brown?
"I kinda need a place to stay, can you help me out?”
Sam looks really uncomfortable or a moment, then smiles. “Sure, sure, come into the living room. Here, havea seat, Starn. You look kinda rough. Let me get you a bite to eat, and we’ll make up a spot on the couch for you.” With that, Sam disappears into the kitchen. After a minute, Starn hears a hushed voice coming from that direction. “…***…,,, he’s right here ,,,.,.,*** my living room …..”
So many changes have happened today, Starn just needs something to remain the SAME. Nothing in here is familiar! It’s all wrong! The couch needs to be four inches left, the coffee table needs to be two inches forward! That shelf! Starn Begins frantically moving things around, trying to get them in the right order once more, an order he isn’t sure he can even remember.
Roll:3
The agent! He has Jack’s stuff! Did he leave to report back to his overseers? Where is he! Jack need not look for long. Or at all, really. Luckily, he’s still there, right in Jack’s face, and yelling. Not hard to find at all.
Roll:1
“Id dob reaw! Doffing id reaw!” Stan sobs in anger. The guy who punched him has darted around to the oter side of a pillar, intent on another fight, but Stan won’t let some imaginary support column stop him, and charges straight through. Or rather, straight into the post. A very loud TONK! Is the last thinkg he hears.
Pain. So much pain. Mostly in the face, but there are other regions announcing their existance through agony as well; the back gives off a dull, throbbing ache. His right hand is quite sore. There is a sharp, biting pain in his left thigh. At the moment, this is all of reality Stan is aware of. Whether he believes in it or not does not even enter the question.
Roll:2
Jeremy reaches for the still body lieing bandaged on his bed, but all he comes up with are the bandages. The body remains in place for a moment, then fades, sinking into the bed as it does, leaving behins smears of blood on the walls, the bedding, and the window glass. An echo of screaming remains at the edge of Jeremy’s hearing as well. He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t sace her then, and he couldn’t save her now.
Roll:5
Looking about, Joseph sees one of those blue plastic newspaper vending mach9ines that holds those community announcement papers some cities hand out for free. Inside are magazines for cars, ousing, and … yes! one for jobs as well. Joseh pockets one of these, and looks around a bit more, hoping to find something immediate. And yes! “PART TIME DISHWASHER NEEDED. INQUIRE WITHIN.” On a diner window across the street.
Jospeh muses for a moment, and realizes there are also entreprenurial opportunities, such as lea removal, hedge trimming, and for when it gets just a little colder, snow shoveling. Of course, these require a little start up money for tools, and customers tend to be found in the suburbs rather than downtown. On the other hand, it’s a busy enough area that a good busker could potentially make a semi-decent living here.
Roll:3
Ed walks around the side of the house just in time to see the car leavethe driveway. Huh. Wonder where they’re going.
posting earlier than usual because I have to get up early tomorrow.gonna be a long day, and we'll see if I get back online tomorrow night. Next post may be Friday, May be Saturday. We'll see. (I hate mornings. Pity me :'(
Roll: 1
Alexander tries to mitigate the burning he feels from the sun by becoming a native of Tatooine. He gets as far as setting a second sun in the sky before his plan disintegrates under the doubled intensity of light pouring into his room. His skin begins to sunburn even under the blankets. Any exposed skin begins to actually blister at this point. Panicked, any thoughts of plans or events beyond escaping the damning light flee from Alexander’s mind.
Roll: 3
Darek walks quickly up the steps to face his fate. His “never be bullied” passion kicks in while mom is lecturing him about doing chores properly, and he yells back. A heated argument ensues, while Darek tries to clean the water with a Spongebob. His incessant giggling doesn’t help matters, and his father gets into the conversation on his mother’s side. Looks like Darek is going to be grounded for the week, with extra chores on top.
Goal: Apologize to mother.
Roll:5
Annie sleeps deep and dreamlessly, and awakens the next morning full of energy. She begins bustling about the house, intent on cleaning, finishing several letters to the editor, and maybe even applying for that school crossing guard position she has her eye on. Or starting a daycare for the underprivileged!
Roll: 1
Starn realizes something is terribly, terribly wrong - with the curtains. He fiddles and adjusts them just so, but he can never get them to hang exactly right. Perhaps it’s the ties. The knots might need to be bows? Starn is distracted by the arrangement of movies in the entertainment stand, and begins sorting frantically, all while an inner voice screams deep inside: “Get out!”
When Sam reenters the room, Starn looks up and panics: “You aren’t Sam!” He exclaims. “I mean you are, but you aren’t.” His horror grows. “You aren’t the Sam I know. What have you done with him?! Who are you? WHO ARE YOU?!” AS Starn stares, Sam’s clothing appears to change quickly, from one outfit to another in rapid succession. His hairdo, the angle of his chin, the shade of his eyes all seem to alter, too, until Sam becomes nearly unrecognizable, though in some way, still the same.
Roll:5
Jack scores a low blow to his nemesis, ending the argument with cold, hard facts, delivered to the brain the quickest way possible - through the genitals. The man acknowledges Jack’s superior debating skills by bowing forward, hands resting firmly on the very point Jack last scored. Jack’s papers flutter out of the man’s grasp, and are his to collect. He does so quickly, and scampers off into the night, secure in this one small victory against the forces of Secrecy, Control, and Oppression.
Roll:1
I … Am … STAN! Stan concentrates with all his might on this one fact, but it fails to deliver. In fact, he begins to doubt this one hard truth. Is he? Is he really? All he knows is the pain. This is terrible. Banish it away, banish it away. The more Stan tries to deny the pain, the firmer it’s grip on him becomes. Pain has become the center of this person’s world and the light by which he sees.
Goal: Gain metaphysical control over the illusory reality. Like Neo, except STAN.
Roll:5
Jeremy takes several deep, shuddering breathes. “Okay. Calm down, that was years ago, and I was on the job. I saved hundreds of people with my work.” Jeremy concentrates on remembering the positive things he saw, took part in, and caused. It helps. Before long, the memory of the apparition loses it’s hold on him, and he feels stronger, better. This happened. It was horrible, but it is over, and it hasn’t destroyed all that is good.
Salsacookies
Roll:1
Joseph enters Freddies Fine Diner and asks to see the manager about the dishwasher job. He is told to wait, and sits at the counter. A coffee is placed by his elbow and he is left alone while the diner life goes on about him. A light flickers somewhere in Joseph’s peripheral vision.
Then another flickers. No, it isn’t the lights. It is some indistinct figure, passing between Jospeh and the lights, but somehow always staying out of direct sight. Joseph’s heart begins to race. Not one figure, but two, three, several, and they flit into sight, darting around the customers, drifting between the staff members, and disappearing into the kitchen, or emerging from it. They are dark, but They go unnoticed by all, except Joseph. As his horror grows, he sees a figure approach, a figure that appears to be at the center of these dark beings’ activity, a figure from which and to which each of them seems to go. A portly man, grease stained and balding, the green smoke of Greed, Sin, and Decay pours out of his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. He looks at A stricken Joseph, and he smiles.
Joseph flees, throwing napkin holders and dirty dishes at the figure, screaming, shouting, or muttering, he can’t tell. Perhaps all the noises are in his head, at this point, and nothing comes out his mouth. None of this seems to faze the figure, who just comes on, slowly. Joseph finds himself fin the kitchen, where he upends carts, scatters dishes, and tips a pot of soup, anything to get some distance between him and the consuming beast. He throws some cloths onto the fryer, where they burst readily into flames, buying him enough time to escape out the back door, past a filthy dumpster, and into the alley beyond. HE runs, not looking back at all until he is blocks away, too afraid to find that some of the strange shadows had followed him this far.
Roll:6
Ed runs inside, calling his kids’ names, but no one responds. Angry, scared, and uncertain, Edward dashes back and forth through all the rooms of the house, yanking open closet doors and tossing their contents out, hoping to find his kids. He overturns beds, pulls the sofa away from the wall, and even tips over the computer desk, hoping they were there. They were not. They got them! They got to her, and she took them to Them! His parents! Were they safe? Did they know? Were They coming for them too?
Roll: 6
One frantic dash to the closet later, Alex tried recollecting himself.
Well, that backfired. At this rate I'm going to have to wait in here until the evening... or perhaps fast-forwards it.
Alex cracks the door to the closet and draws a crescent in the air with his finger. A noticeable inky form appears in the air, and, sure enough, one of Tatooine’s suns dips below the horizon. Alex hesitantly puts one paw outside the closet, and it doesn’t burn. Relieved, he pads out into the bedroom, sniffing he air, and yowls a little. Then he scratches behind his ear, trying to dislodge a flea.
Roll: 3
Abashed, Darek manages to sputter out a heartfelt, if poorly expressed, apology. He’s been trying to apologize so much today! Neither parent seems fully satisfied, but they let the matter drop, content to let Darek finish the chores and go to bed. He awakes the next morning, poorly rested, thanks to the interminable giggling of that stupid sponge and that even stupider starfish.
Roll: 4
Annie manaes to put everything she wanted to say into the letter ot the school board, and puts it in an envelope, seals it, and get’s ready to mail it. She realizes after a short search of the usual places that she has no stamps.. She is going to have to walk halfway across town to get some. Annie peeks out the door window in uncertainty.
Roll: 6
Jack makes his way to a nearby factory he knows of. It’s pretty big, and not thoroughly guarded. There is enough activity there that he can sneak in unnoticed if he acts like he belongs. He manages to make it inside, and works his way down into the basement, where an unlocked utility room provides an out of the way spot to set up shop. He tucks himself away behind the boiler and begins spreading what remains of his evidence out, taping it up to the walls, and arranging it according to the pattern he saw in the tattoo on that man’s arm. If he can arrange it just so, he can get more clues. He just knows it.
“You there!” Jack remains very still, hoping the intruder wasn’t talking to him. “The second floor women’s toilets are filthy. Someone had an ‘accident.’ Go take care of it.” Jack waits a moment. “Well?” The voice demands. Jack peers around the corner of the boiler, and, sure enough, a greying man with an air of authority is looking right at him. Apparently, this hide-out is somewhat well known amongst the employees here. “get going!”
Roll: 1
Losing a second battle with pain, Stan falls unconscious again. He awakes an unknown time later, drugged and bandaged. Disoriented, Stan sits up, then, after a wave of nausea passes, he stands. Wobbly, he almost makes it out of his room, when a nurse stops him. She calls to another nurse, and the two of them gently but firmly lead him back to bed. It hurts to think, so Stan doesn’t. He lets his attention wander as the nurse turns on the tv to some random sports channel. The noise mixes in with Stan’s thoughts and memories, each image chasing another in and out of the darkness in his mind.
Roll: 6
Jeremy tosses the bandages and the sheets into a trash bag, and then hauls the bag outside to the dumpster. It is all he can do to climb the stairs back to his apartment and drag himself back to his room. He falls into bed. He drifts toward sleep, the girl he saw before lying next to him. She still screams, but softly now, almost comfortingly. And she bleeds not. It is this that fills Jeremy’s dreams this night.
When he awakes, the girl is nowhere to be seen. He is not exactly rested, but he does feel better than he did last night. Looking into the mirror in the bathroom, he is not sure he looks any better than he did last night. A sight catches his eye, and Jeremy starts. Is it that late? Afternoon already? What day is it? If he has work today, he’d better hurry.
Roll: 2
Joseph walks, not daring to look to see if he is followed. His thoughts are interrupted by an outburst of laughter from not far away. Glancing up, he spots four men in the trash littered alley adjacent to the one he walks down. Two are sitting on a metal stairway up to a landing before a closed metal door, and the other two stand at the bottom of those stairs. Two of them are smoking. Jeremy’s sudden start, draws the eye of one of the men sitting on the steps. “Well, well, well. What have we here?” He asks, drawing the attention of the other three. Suddenly, four sets of eyes (he hopes it’s only four) are on Joseph.
Goal: obtain money.
Roll: 2
Ed grabs his keys and heads out to the … shoot. His wife took the car. The nearest gun shop is six miles away. Ed plans: He could walk now. He might get there by closing. He could steal a car and get there on time. He could wait for tomorrow.
SaberToothTiger
Roll:4
Annie prepares to head out. She dresses carefully, gathers her belongings, takes a deep breath, and steps out the front door. It’s raining a little, but not too badly. She steps inside and grabs an umbrella. Nervous about lightning, slippery roads and reckless drivers, and hooded figures, she swallows a bit, but steps forward, walking briskly toward the post office.
Roll:2
"Alright, I'm on it."
Neglecting the janitor’s jumpsuit hanging on a peg on the door, Jack steps out into the hall and picks a direction. He walks purposefully, as if he knows where he is going. The man seems satisfied, and walks off in another direction, intent on other duties.
Jack obviously doesn’t know where he is going. He figured it’d be easy enough: up a flight or two of stairs, down a hall, find a bathroom. Three machinery rooms later, surrounded by noise and steel, he is certain this building was laid out by the Conspiracy, just to frustrate him.
Roll:3
Stan drifts in and out of consciousness for a while. After a time the pain fades, though it doesn’t fully disappear, in particular from the back of his head and his knee. He awakes, though he is not entirely sure he is fully awake. Objects seem to fade in and out of his consciousness as he loses concentration on them - a paper on a table, the flowers in a vase, his own fingernails. It’s surprisingly disconcerting, considering his obsession with nonbeing.
Roll:3
Jeremy showers in a hurry, and dresses quickly. He is four blocks away before he realizes he dressed as one of his old undercover identities instead of as a security officer. This realization triggers a second: he is going the wrong way to work. Rushing back to change, Jeremy knew he would be late, whatever he did. He dresses, properly this time, and sets off once more.
Roll:1
"The damned, the Damned! You are looking at a curse! I’ve doomed us all. The worst has happened!"
Joseph grabs the nearest by the shirt and screams. “Do your worst, I’m already dead, and so are you!”
The smoke coming out of his mouth swirled, and imps chittered in its wake. “you! You are with them!” The man shoves him roughly away. “Man, get off my shirt! Wat chu on about? Guy’s nuts, yo!” Jospeh stumbles and falls on his rear, horrified. The two sitting stand, and the four step forward, one laughing wickedly, as smoke billows around their feet, threatening to cconsume Joseph. A dark shadow makes one of them seem larger, as if he is posessed by a greater being, one who fits but poorly within this one’s shell.
Roll:4
Ed takes off at a run, determined to arm himself properly, even though what he cares about is already gone. An hour later, quite winded, he enters the gun store, with fifteen minutes to spare. “Evening” the proprietor says. “Just havea few miniutes before I close, can I help you with something?”
Roll: 4
Alright, that worked out reasonably well. Now, what to do next...
Inspiration striking him, Alex dragged his canvas and some paints out of the closet, resisting the urge to gnaw on the wood as he did so. Holding the brush in his mouth as he thought, he ultimately decided on drawing a trio of cherry trees in full bloom.
It was pretty impressive that Alex managed to get most of the paint on the canvas instead of the floor. He even managed to get three roughly circular shapes with some sticks coming out the bottoms, amidst the smudges, smears, and pawprints. Alex sat back with an air of triumph, and put his paw in the air, wuffing quietly.
Roll: 5
Darek dresses and heads downstairs for breakfast. As he opens his bedroom door, he gets a whiff o bacon and eggs, and his stomach rumbles in anticipation. He descends and makes his way into the dining room, where his parents greet him warmly. His sister ignores him, but that’s normal. He may not be well rested, but after a good meal, he is energized. Which is good, considering …
“Dishes” his mother staes, firmly.
“And when you are done there, the lawn.” His Father says as concisely. “And then, come see me.”
“y-yes sir.” Alex states, gathering the dishes.
Roll:2
The rain really begins to drag on Annie as she walks. It does nothing for her nerves, and so she steps into the first MacWendell’s she come’s across. It isn’t particularly crowded at this time, and what crowd there is is mostly older folks, meeting for breakfast, sipping their discount coffees and telling each other stories of days gone by. There is a young mother with two small children inside, the boy crying a tad too loud, and the girl sulking, hunkered down in the corner of the booth with a little pout and anger lines on her forehead. Outside, the rain begins coming down in buckets. Not literally, of course - it just rains very hard. This weather, the restaurant … this reminds nnie of something, but whatever it is flees her thoughts as quickly as it entered them.
Roll:2
Jack begins to retrace his steps, but he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, as he ends up in the front office. A receptionist notices him, orders him to take a seat in a professionally friendly voice, and, a moment later, hands him a clipboard with a form on it, and a pen attached by a string. Jack glances at the form - Name, address, phone, email, previous work history, education … what? What is this?
Roll:3
Odd. It might be ... am I creating these objects as I look at where I imagine they would be? Then what would happen if I attempted something like ... this?
Stan tries to make a potato appear before him. He has a difficult time even getting a lasting image of a potato to stay in his mind, let alone in his hand. While he is concentrting so hard, a nurse comes in, pulls up a wheeled hospital bed table, and places a meal on it. It has a brown oval lump with some greenish brown viscous liquid on it, a puddle of light green, withered peas, and an off-white mash with more of the viscous fluid lumped into a divot in the mash, each item inside a depression in the stale green tray on which this delectable tret is served. A plastic fork and knife, wrapped in a napkin, which is itself wrapped in a white band taped to itself, sits alongside. And, of course, the little cup of syrupy peach slices sits in one corner. A carton of apple juice with one of those straws yo upoke through the lid, if you don’t crumple it instead, appears opposite the peaches. A banquet, to be sure! It’s almost too horrible not to be real.
Roll:1
It’s almost as if his wardrobe mistake was prophetic. Not eight blocks from home, Jeremy hears a painfully familiar voice. “Hey Johnny! Is that really you?” Jeremy hesitates to turn around and face this voice, but he does.
“Frankie?” Shocked, voices begin echoing in Jeremy’s head. This man … those were not good days.
“What are you doing in this neighborhood? And look at those duds! What are you, a cop now?” Frankie laughs at his joke - he never learned of Jeremy’s real identity, which was definitely a good thing.
Roll:3
"Ack! It's too late!"
“Darn right it’s too late!” One of the men says, laughing roughly. He grabs Jospeh roughly, and pushes him at another guy, who grabs him the same, while a third kicks him in the ass with the side of his foot.
“You loser. What chu yammering on about? You aint got the balls to cause us grief.”
Shove, grab, poke.
It goes on like this - push, trip, lift, push - for a few minutes, the men laughing - grab, spin, shove - a bit as they toy with him. At last, one of them hoists Joseph by the collar and the waist of his worn jeans, walks him at a brisk pace toward the entrance to the alley, and shoves, and Joseph naturally falls into a line of trash cans, tipping htem with a clatter. The men all laugh, then walk back to their steps without another glance. Jospeh climbs out of the garbave, and staaggers off, dizzy and a little disoriented.
Roll:4
"Could you get me a Colt Trooper Mk. V and .357 Magnum ammo?"
The shopkeeper reaches under the counter and pulls out a clipboard, slapping it firmly on the counter. It has a form on it, and a pen slid up under the clip, chain long broken, but still dangling off the end.
“Fill this out. Come back in five days. We don’t sell guns and ammo together.” The man says, the well worn spiel rolling out as the man moves. “Be quick about it, would’ya? I gotta close up soon.”
Roll: 5
Annie remembers the sounds o fighting in the bck seat. She shouted, as one does, and the sounds dimmed, though they never really went away. Long rides were always like that. It was frustrating, but it was normal. Annie’s mind was elsewhere, anyway. The traffic was bad today, and people were goingtoo fast for the conditions. Much too fast. Annie’s heart raced, her hands clutching the wheel tightly. The bright lights in the other lanes were stabbing into her eyes, sharpening her headache, nd increasing her rustration. She yelled again. Then she screamed. Then …
Then nothing.
Then a loud honking.
Then a hand on her wet shoulder.
The lights in the other lane were not as bright, but her headache was splitting, and not all the wetness on her face was from the rain. Annie let’s herself be guided out of the road (why was she in the road? That’s not sae at all!) and into a building where she sits, numbed by … what was she doing?
Roll: 5
I’m in a lot of troule he thought. [color=yellow ]Sam knows. He knows, and he called someone about it. It’s the police. They’re going to be here soon. I have to get out.[/color] He eyed the window, and in his panic, the thought of crashing through flitted across his mind.
”Starn?”
He’s gonna do it. He stands, and moves forward. He’s gonna crash right through. He unlatches the lock. He’s gonna have to pick all those shards out of himself.
”Starn, what are you doing?”
“He slides the window up. Sam’s gonna be even madder. Starn sticks one leg through, bends down, and swings out.
”Starn, Stop this. Come back in here. Be reasonable.”
He’s gonna have to tuck and roll, when he hits with all that broken glass around him. He stildes to the ground, one foot touching, then the other. He adjusts his pants, brushes off his shirt. He has to run! He turns and careully slides the window down.
”Be sure to lock it behind me, Sam!” Starn waves as he walks off, checking his pockets for all the bits he had in there, counting his fingers and wriggling his toes.
Roll: 6
"Sorry lady, I already work here, I just took a wrong turn while trying to remember where I left my tools. Sorry to bother you."
”Oh! No, I’m sorry, I must not have recognized you. Here, let me help you get your bearings.”
Somehow, the receptionist is impossible to resist, and Jack gets a long tour of the building, though not of the entire complex. In the process, the woman gets Jack’s name out of him - not his given name, of course, he hadn’t used that in years. But the name Jack Harper is now on her clipboard, along with the notation “Janitor - 3rd shift. Plant A.”
Back at the custodial closet / utility room, the lady excuses herself to her duties and leaves Jack to his. He goes inside, changes into the uniform and closes his eyes for a moment. It onoly just occurred to him that he’d been up all night - long enough for the office ot open and a receptionist to come in. Looks like the toilet will have to wait for the next guy. It’s not like he’s getting paid overtime, after all.
Roll: 4
Well will you look at that, a potato! Well, the illusion of a potato anyway.
Do potatoes even exist outside of the illusion? Then again the tactile sense of eating is naught but a dream so I suppose food is an illusion as well. That said, I had something there. If I can get further and control it better, maybe I can tear it asunder and see what truly is. To start ... let's make this better-looking.
Stan concentrates hard, wiping a drip from his nose idly on his sleeve as he stares into his breakfast with the intensity of a man who thinks only his concentration is holding reality together at all. Fter a while, the food does start to look better, thoguh how exactly is hard to say. Pperhaps the mash is smoother, creamier. Perhaps the peas are brighter, fuller. Perhaps the aroma is richer. Maybe Stan is just getting hungrier. He picks up the fork and pokes the mush a bit, then takes a tenative bite. Suddenly Stan realizes he hadn’t tasted the … the “potato” … before he tried this experiment, so he couldn’t tell if it tasted better or not. He ponders trying again, but as he looks down a the plate, the whitish goop has disappeared, leaving but a smudge in the bottom of the dish. Huh. Unreal, indeed. He thinks as a bit of pea disappears as well, going to the same fate as the potato.
Roll: 3
Jeremy tries to remember his undercover persona, but the years have left it a bit stale. He opts for surly silence, giving out words a few at a time until he gets his bearings. Frankie notices his mood, and makes a comment, but doesn’t seem to mind much. He chats a bit randomly, talking about sports and the weather and other generic stuff. He doesn’t talk about any of their old acquaintences though.
“So .. you never said what’s up with that outfit.” He remarks idly, as they wait in line for a coffee, several blocks out of Jeremy’s route to work. Maybe he should call in, to let them know he is gonna be late. Or absent.
Roll: 1
Losing control a little, Joseph tosses the trash cans around in a rage, causing the men to chase him down the block. They catch him, and, as per the rules of back alley minor bulleying everywhere, tossed him into a Dumpster. Or rather, a Trash Co Brand trash disposal unit. Not as roomy, not as well maintained, but just as filthy. He struggles to climb out and thinks, once more of home, and family. It was a long time ago and far away. A galaxy away, it feels like. Maybe one of his relatives would take him in, if he went back. Maybe. He wasn’t too kind the last time he was there.
Roll: 1
Ed looks at the form, and at the shopkeeper, who crosses his arms and shifts his weight, eyeing Ed sternly. Ed pulls out the pen, and hesitates. Somehow, he just can’t fill the form out. If he did, they would know about it, and they would have an excuse. They already took his kids.
At this thought, anger courses through Ed.
“Look, I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” He says, trying almost successully to keep the anger from his voice. “I’m sure you have a … special plan, for privileged members of a, shall we say, a Premium Club? Expidited delivery, reduced red tape, that kind of thing. For the right price, of course.”
“Get out of my store before I call the police.”
Hey, I may or may not keep using color text in the turn posts. If I do, don’t expect them to remain consistent. Since I write the updates in MS Word, and the colors don’t port over. If you DO prefer a particular color for your chatracter, put it at the end of each post like thus: ((green))
Roll:2
after several days of hard work and very little sleep, you stare at the screen willing yourself to comprehend the mad babblings of your asylum. You cannot. The days of non-sleep catch up to you, and you begin to nod off, right in the middle of a video of cats falling off of things. You are unable to comprehend your charges, let alone guide them to another point of awareness. Sleep you must. Sleep you will.
This isn't an excuse for not having posted yet, in part because I warned you guys before that my weekend schedule might be thin. Rather, consider this an encouragement: there is hoope! I do fully intend to make a turn tomorrow when I am rested. meanwhile enjoy these: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CkaSd2QjRE (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CkaSd2QjRE)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWUqENctOvo (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWUqENctOvo)
Roll: 4
Darek spends the morning cleaning the garage, mowing the lawn, and pulling weeds. He ignored the gnomes, pixies, and orcs that jeered at him from every corner. By lunch time, he had worked up quite a hunger. Hearing his mother call him in or lunch, Darek returned the tools to the garage and turned to head inside, stomach rumbling. Standing between him and the door to the house, however, was a particularly ugly goblin, a bit bigger than himself. It stares menacingly at him, daring him to come closer.
Roll: 3
Annie looks around at the stret. She remembers the McDonalds, and a letter. Where she is now is a bit fuzzy, but she can’t be far from the McDonalds. It looks like she was headed further into town, though. She feels a little woozy. Finding herself in the middle of the street has shaken her, and made it difficult to get her bearings. She thinks she can find the post office from here, if she can get up. Her hands begin shaking violently, and she is on the verge of tears.
Roll: 4
Starn runs from Sam’s place. He gets several blocks away before he runs out of breath. Placing his fingers to his neck, he tries to count the heartbeats, but he cannot get a stable measurement. His anxiety goes up, and he runs again for a while. Exhausted, he stops and sits against the wall of a convenience store for a bit to catch his breath and his thoughts. No sounds of pursuit reach him at the moment.
Roll: 1
Jack stifles a yawn and climbs the stairs to the second floor custodial closet, where he fills a bucket and gathers a few supplies. He sits down for a minute to tie a shoe, and wakes to a hand shaking his shoulder roughly.
“Hey! What are you doing in here? Who are you?” Bleary eyed, Jack looks up at another janitor suited man. The real morning janitor. Or is it?
Roll: 1
Stan stares hard at the tray for a while, but it remains stubbornly in place. He does deveop a splitting headache though. And he starts feeling hot and feverish. On a ‘positive’ note, the room around him seems to fade away a bit, and ‘reality’ begins to spin.
Roll: 6
Jeremy calls in to let the mall know he won’t be coming in today. Turns out, he wasn’t expected anyway. He has no shifts until the weekend. Three days. That’s good. Frankie and I have some business to attend today anyway. He thinks. There are some punks getting a little too rowdy down Elm Street, and they need to be taught a lesson. Jeremy frowns. The punks were assholes anyway, so they deserved a little roughhousing, b ut he wouldn’t do it if he had his way. But a cover is a cover, and he had to sell it. He was after something bigger than the lowlifes like Frankie that he waas in with now.
Roll: 3
"A long time ago in a galaxy far away..."
Joseph shivers a bit as he explores the contents of the bin. It’s cold in here, and, tyr as he might, he just can’t seem to find a comfortable position. And Hollywood made dumpster diving seem so easy. He does find something that reeks awfully, and is pretty mushy, like it used to be food. His stomach rebels at the thought of trying it, though.
Roll: 1
“I’ll be back. Just you wait!” Ed snarls, before turning toward the door.
“That’s it. I’m calling the police.” The man behind hims says, and reaches for his phone.
Roll: 4
Darek rolls under the goblin’s grasping reach, colliding with it’s legs as he tries to go between, knocking the thing off balance a bit and into a metal shelving unit. Several boxrs fall off onto the golin’s head and shoulders. It looks a bit pissed, and maybe a little dazed.
Roll: 5
The helpful stranger who helped Annie out of the street keeps her company for a while, and after a bit, she calms down. The man’s presence seemed to soothe her rather than agitate her, as most strangers do. Perhaps it was the shock, keeping her other anxieties at bay. Annie convinves the man that wshe is capable of moving on, and apologizes for the trouble. He leaves her to herself, and she walks the rest of the way to the post office without incident. She purchases a roll of stamps and mails her letter to the school board, feeling a sense of triumph - she had conquered herself today.
Roll: 4
It is late when Starn arrives at his apartment - very late. He fumbles for his key, and attempts to it it into the slot. It won’t go. Looking carefully, he sees that he used the wrong key, and the next one fits perfectly, easing his fear that the contents of his pockets had changed on the way home. Stepping inside, he locks the door behind himself and collapses on the couch, too tired to undress or go to bed. He is unconscious in moments.
The next morning, he awakens with a drad sense that something is terribly wrong. Something … maybe the apartment? He can’t quite grasp what it is that is wrong, but he is certain something is out of place.
Roll:4
"Me? I'm... I'm a new janitor. They said... that they needed an extra janitor to... keep up with the mess. Sorry I just... dozed off there."
The other janitor just grunts, wheels the mop bucket out of the closet, and heads off. Looks like he considers Jack someone else’s problem.
Roll:3
The room remains grey, but it doesn’t disappear. A nurse comes and goes, but in te normal way, not in and out o reality, but in and out of the room. Stan’s headache doesn’t get worse. The room still tilts, but it isn’t spinning as fast now.
Roll:5
"Let's go rough up some punks"
Frankie laughs. “Now you’re talking. But no, listen. All that’s under control. Things are different now. You been gone a while, things are different. But you can still help. You remember Bobby? I need you to get in touch with him. Yeah, no, it’s not like that. No he isn’t in trouble, we just, look, we just have a proposition for him. A mutually beneficial arrangement. It’ll work out you see? That other thing? Water under the bridge, man. Water under the bridge.”
GOAL: Keep Cover
Roll:2
Joe raises the nasty mush toward his mouth. He makes the mistake of breathing in before he takes a bite, and the smell makes him gag before he can taste it. His body clamps down and refuses to invite the vile substance inside. In the dark recesses of the trash bin, something chitters in what Joe can only assume is amusement at his plight. Looks like homelessness is harder than he thought.
Roll:5
“Forget it, you’re not worth it!” Ed mutters as he heads out the door. Darting though alleys, vacant lots, and a couple back yards, he makes it home without incident. The car is still not in the driveway, and no one answers his call inside the house. The message light is on on the home phone, though, blinking twice, then of then twice. Two messages.
It has been interesting seeing he different ways in which each character responds to their issues and situations. At times, I am concerned that I am not providing enough of a dynamic situation for some of the characters, but I think some of that involves play style too. Do you guys have any feedback or suggestions for improvements? So far, I am positively encouraged by the consistent participation of 8/9 of the players (I think Nicholas1024 droped out, though his slot is still there if he returns). Some times I think I enjoy this game more than anyone else. That was true in Roll to Alien as well :D
Roll: 1
Darek looks around wildly for a moment, then grabs a two by four off the workbench and swings! The two by four passes right through the illusive creature, and Darek hits the shelves, jarring them a bit more. One comes crashing down. The goblin staggers upright and grabs Darek by the shirt. Wait, didn’t Darek’s shot go right though it? Unfair! The goblin pushes Darek back a few steps, and his shirt starts to tear.
Roll:5
Annie looks at the clock on the wall of the post office. It is digital. The numbers are written in green. As she watches, the numbers change from 10:02 to 10:03 A.M.
Roll: 5
Starn looks at his clock, mounted on the wall in the living room over the television set. It is analog. The second hand turns steadily, without the stop-start tick of some clocks. As he watches, theh second hand passes the curly six at the bottom of the circuit. The long hand points between the 2 and the 3, and the short, fat hand points at the 10. 10:02 A.M.
Roll:6
Jack returns to the hideout and stretches out on the makeshift bed. No one saw him enter the room. He sleeps soundly for some time When he wakes, he realizes he hasn’t eaten in some time, and is very hungry.
Roll:1
(I’m so sorry. Heh. Heh heh heh.)
Stan attempts to meditate to regain calm and focus, but the insant he tries to take a deep breathe, a sharp pain arcs in his side. It drives thought out of his head, and makes focus nearly impossible.
Nothing is going right. Nothing works. I have made no difference in my life, let alone in the lives of others.
Greyness.
Sometimes an image appears in the fog, insubstantial, unclear. Occasionally, a face arises - a memory? A current reality? An illusion? Whatever the truth, it is far from this insubstantial being’s grasp. A name wanders across the being’s consciousness - what is left of it. STAN. I AM STAN.
And just like that, the name is gone again, and the identity - lost in a sea of … nothingness.
Roll:2
“So, just to clarify, have a -"
“Oh shoot, I didn’t realize it was this late. Listen, I gotta go. You still got my number? Gimme a call tomorrow, we’ll get this going real good. You’re one of the good ones, Johnny.” And with that, Frankie is off, leaving a twenty on the table with his bill.
Roll:2
Jospeh roots around in the dumpster, chasing noises. They seem at one time to come rom this corner, then that - no, under that bag! Or inside it. Maybe a little lower. Ouch! What was that? Just a can. Doesn’t look like he’s bleeding. Now it’s overhead? On top perhaps? Now it’s behind? Above .. hter and there? More than one? Where, where, where?
Roll:4
The answering machine doesn’t explode. Neither of the messages self destruct. One is from another parent at the kids’ school, asking Ed’s wife to call her about some meeting or something. The other is from Mom. She rambles a bit, asks if Ed is alright, tells him she worries, and to call her. She sounds a little nervous.
Roll: 6
Annie steps into line at the counter and waits for whatfeels like an eternity, but isn’t. Finally, her turn comes, and she asks for an application for a job at the post office. The lady departs to the back or a minute that feels longer, and returns with a manila envelope, thick with papers, and labeled “forms: application packet.”
“Fill these out and return when you have done so. Now, understand, if you do get hired, it may be for a route in another city nearby. We may not have anything secifically in this town.” She looks at Annie with a certain sympathy. “Good luck with that application.”
Annie takes the packet, and the weight of the thing in her hand feels discouraging. But at least it’s a start!
GOAL: End the exile.
Roll: 5
Starn shambles into the kitchen, cracks open the fridge, and begins pulling out items. The fridge is surprisingly well stocked, considering hat Starn doesn’t use it frequently. On the other hand, it has become nature for Starn to ensure that exactly the right items are always on hand. He has a list and he follows it rigidly. After assembling his ingredients (an omelet this morning), he marks off the items on the list on his fridge. Hmm. Not enough to need to run to the store today.
The omelet is thick and rich and satisfying.
There is a knock on the door.
Roll: 6
Jack heads out to the streets and makes his customary rounds. He stops at a soup kitchen for a bowl of soup and some bread, which he wolfs down. He then spends the rest of the evening collecting information - flyers, newspapers, bubble gum wrappers that hadn’t made it into the trash, a burger wrapper that had - each one was a clue, and he would use the mall to crack the conspiracy and reveal the horrible truth to the world, whether it was ready for the truth or not.
Roll: 4
Unseeing, Stan opens his eyes. Images appear and disappear from his sight without meaning or purpose. Time is a foreign concept in the off white dullness that is his reality.
Roll: 4
Jeremy heads to the police station and asks to file a report. He is told to sit and wait for an officer, and he takes his place on a hard wooden bench. Soon, a man in uniform invites him into an interview room.
“Now, I understand that you have some information for us about a crime?”
Roll: 3
Joseph pulls the nasty thing out of an outer pocket, and tries again. It’s still horrendous. He manages to get some of it in his mouth before he retches violently.
The good news it that this causes the chittering to grow louder. The bad news( aside from the fact that Joe may never get that taste out of his mouth, his throat, his brain) is that he is becoming increasingly sure that the chittering things are not corporeal, nor edible.
Roll: 6
Ed grabs the lockbox from the bedroom closet, pulls out one of his burner phones, and dials. The phone rings. And again. And again. At last, his mother’s voice answers. ‘’Hello, Greaves residence.”
Roll: 2
Darek struggles wit hteh goblin, but it proves the stronger of the two of them and leaves him dazed on the garage floor as it turns and stalks menacingly into the house. Darek hears the sound of objects clattering to the floor from the kitchen.
Roll: 4
Annie takes a seat, and spends the next six hours carefully going through the packet, filling in all the inormation to the best of her ability. It is mind numbing really. She finishes with the parts she can, but still needs to get a copy of her birth certificate, medical records, and a couple other things like that. The clerk calls out that the lobby will be closing in ten minutes.
Roll: 1
Starn looks up from a sink full of dishes. He walks over to the door, and swings it wide. The police officer on the other side takes one look at Starn, and steps back, unlatching his gun in it’s holster, and resting his hand on it.
“Mr. Gundar, put down the weapon, please. This doesn’t have to go down this way.”
Surpised, Starn looks at his still soapy hand, and the large kitchen knife still clutched in his hand. This can’t be. That wasn’t there before he opened the door. It changed, he knew it changed! It wasn’t like that!
Roll: 4
Jack returns to his closet unnoticed and begins assembling his information. Cross checking from an editorial in the Homes and Gardens section of a paper three weeks old with a Time magizine by-line and an ad from a flyer with some serious stains on it, Jack is led to the sports section of a paper from months ago. Yes! a lead, at last! Whatever it is, the conspiracy involves the Knicks. It must be! A trail, at last!
Roll: 2
The police seem uninterested in the conversation Jeremy had with a gang member. Nothing illegal had een said, and no investigation was ongoing regarding him at the moment. The ydo ask abot his work as a security guard, and get Jeremy’s address and contact information. He get’s the feeling that they are nottaking this seriously.
Roll: 1
Joseph, roots madly around the bin or a moment, at last getting his hands on one of the chittering creatures. Corporeal. Real. He holds it up toward the light coming from the gap between the lid and the wall of the bin to get a better look. Its fur is dark and filthy, its teeth are long and sharp - good thing it didn’t bite him - and its eyes are red and fiery. It turns its head and stares straight into Joe’s eyes, tail and paws curling around his arms as its eyes grow larger and hotter, boring into his soul. The black tendrils of smole that were its limbs crawl up his arms and around his head, seeking entrance through eyes, ears, nose, mouth. Not corporeal! Not corporeal at all! As Joe panics and climbs out of the dumpster, two more latch onto him, and he is unable to run, but falls to the ground, struggling.
Roll: 2
“Now Edward, calm down. Everything is fine, just fine. You don’t have to worry. But son, I’m worried about YOU.” She pauses for a moment beore going on. Edward grows suspicious. They might be listening in. they might already be there at Mom’s. “Samantha called, she said you were having a spell. Come home. Let’s talk. We can get you back on the right path. Nip this problem in the bud before it hurts you. Come home.” The stress in her voice makes Edward’s mind spin. What is going on? Mom knows better. It isn’t a sell. They must be there, controlling wht she says. They want to bring him in! But why?
Roll: 1
Annie stands to leave, walks to the door, and freezes, hand on the push bar. Unable to move, emotion washes over her, tears trickling down her face. She can’t stop crying, and she doesn’t even know why. The traffic outside moves along at an orderly pace, and across the street, the park is being abandoned as darkness decends, parents gathering up their children, lovers strolling casually toward their cars, dogs being reigned in from chasing ducks. Annie shakes, seeing none of it.
Roll: 1
Starn throws the knife at the police officer, screaming. He slams the door and gasps, closing his eyes against the sudden change. It wasn’t real … it wasn’t real. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, imagining the world as it SHOULD be, then stands, aces the door, takes three quick breaths, and opens it. The officer is still there, weapon drawn and a look of fear and anger in his face. He shouts something, loud and repeatedly. The knife sticks out of the wall behind him. Then suddenly, it doesn’t. A hole remains where the knife was, though, and the officer’s tie is now blue, instead of black. Footsteps are heard on the stairs of the building, rushing toward this floor.
Roll: 1
Jack reaches for the jumpsuit, but his hand is drawn back to the paper. One more connection. And … there! A new clue! A pattern is developing. But where does it lead? The food, the water? Microwaves? Jack mutters. It’s there, just out of reach. It’s there! Why the Knicks? Ahah! A race of supersoldiers, being developed within the sports industry! Sports drinks, secretly tainted with growth serum to be tested on the populace! Mass human trials in the real world. They were creating monsters!
Roll: 5
The Nematode reaches. Time is a tricky thing, always sliding away, sometimes lingering, never fully known. The Nematode pulls the concepts of time and space from the illusion which intrudes on his being. The concepts stabalize, and structure for the illusion is achieved, though skeletal yet. Up, down, back, forward, left, right, past, and future are accepted as conceptual entities. Meanwhile, the sensations of the illusion move and flicker as before, though the sensations have changed in some unknown way.
Roll: 2
“Johnny Lang. 421 East Hart Street.” Jeremy follows this with the number to a burner phone he carried for this assignment, and leaves, satisfied that the investigation is starting to turn up some results. Memories of theft, graffiti, beatings, and smoky, drunken evenings with a volatile gang spoils the day. Jeremy goes home and broods, trying to cast the unpleasantness from him.
Roll: 3
Joseph screams. That almost counts as exhaling, right? But he is unable to flee, and his struggles are weak. The smoke engulfs him, and presses inward. And with it, voices, whispering, murmering, howling, demanding. They are dim yet, and too confused to make sense of, but they are pressing in …
Roll: 3
Annie settles her nerves enough to step outside. That’s about as far as she gets though. Panic threatens to overwhelm her, and she stands on the sidewalk, struggling to gain her composure.
Roll: 2
Starn pciks up a salt shaker from off the table and throws it at the officer. It remains a salt shaker. The officer. Replaces his pistol and pulls out a taser. (5) And Starn goes down , his body completely under the control of the electricity coursing through his muscles.
Roll: 3
Jack is horrified that They are poisoning the water for nefarious purposes. I mean, poisoningthe water is one thing, but for nefarious purposes? That just crosses the line, man. Lost in thoght, he dresses for work and heads out with the mop bucket.
Roll: 3
Stan focuses, and a white, amorphous ball of matter comes into focus. He practices keeping it consistent by lifting it, and dropping it, observing gravity and matter interact, over and over. Tiem and space fade into the background as he lifts the pillow and drops it … again and again.
Roll: 4
Jeremy watches cooking shows late into the night. He drifts off to disturbed dreams to the harsh glow of the screen and the chipper mutterings of the hosts.
Roll: 1
The evil gets inside, and Joseph’s thoughts of violent struggle increase. Dashing out into the street, he looks for some escape from his torment, some outlet, something to strike down, to end the agony.
Roll: 6
"Can't come now, I think I've been tailed."
Edward hangs up, and leaves the house, taking a circuitous route to get to his mother’s home. On the way, he spots a man behind him more than once. Looks like he hasn’t shaken them after all.
Roll: 6
Annie steadies herself, a crystalline focus and determination hardening in her core. The worl is crisp, clear, and steady, and she WILL succeed. The pain and sorrow disappear behind the wall build long ago to cage just this monster, and in a moment, Annie has forgotten she had ever had a weak moment, at the post office or earlier in the day
Roll: 6
Starn passes out from the shocks and awakens some time later, strapped to a bed. He loloks about, and through bleary eyes sees white uniforms and flashng lights. Several voices are overheard as well, but Starn is uninterested in the words. They wold change in memory anyway, so why bother remembering? A rattling sound accompanies a jolt, and Starn is tilted up, then leveled out and moved headward into an enclosed space. Something cold is pressed to his chest, and he feels a sharp prick on his lower arm. Then the feeling of motion returns, and the white uniform next to him reaches out to steady itself as hanging equipment sways to the movement.
Roll: 5
Jack mops like an overpaid, unsupervised employee with unlimited access to overtime: slowly, sloppily, and with no real intent to get things clean. It seems to work, as people actually compliment him on a job well done, for some reason.
Meanwhile, Jack studies the mop water carefully and notes that, yes, it has been tampered with. This looks totally unfit for human consumption, in fact. Jack carefully reads the label of thecleaner solution he uses and, sure enough, there are hazardous material warnings on it, particularly regarding harm done if swallowed or gotten into the eyes. Boy, they have some nerve!
Roll: 2
...ah. It's a facsimile. A way for people to interact with the world without really understanding its true complexity.
...
I should stop now.
‘Up’, around’, and ‘room’ are concepts concerning the space and time Stan has been studying, but interacting with them proves difficult. While attempting ‘up’, he finds himself sideways and downward, and while attempting ‘about’, he finds himself flopping arhythmically and without progress. Stan discovers a touch more about matter and gravity through this experiment, so not all was a loss.
Roll: 2 (I really wanted this to work, too )
Bleeding and bruised, Joseph stops hitting himself after a while, due primarily to exhaustion. The voices laugh, and demand that he try again, only this time, he must punch someone else.
“silly mortal, receiving pain brings us inside. Giving pain drives us out. You keep giving pain to yourself, thus driving us out and inviting us right back in. You must deliver us to another. Only then can you begin to atone for your sins. Perhaps you could even right your wrongs. Look around. Surely someone nearby is worthy of some pain. It’s for the greater good, Joseph. For the greater good.”
Roll: 6
Annie returns home and rummages through her papers, finding not one, but three birth certificates. One is hers, and two share her last name, but she doesn’t recognize the first names.
Hmm. The long walk must have made Annie dizzy. She sits shakily on the nearest chair for a minute.
It is a known fact that teeter totters or see saws, or whatever you call them) as well as merry go rounds are amongst the most unsafe things that kids could play on, besides rabid animals and child predators’ doorsteps. That anyone would build such monstrosities is a horrifying mystery. That the playground next to the post office hasn’t bulldozed theirs is a crime. It’s a tragedy waiting to happen.
Annie puts her birth certificate in her purse alongside the massive form she filled out at the post ofice. Ready to return it the next day.
Roll: 6
Starn tests the straps holding him to the gurney. They seem sturdy enough, but they appear to be fastened loosely, as if whoever strapped him down wasn’t expecting him to attempt to remove them. It seems that he could free himself if he is careful to be unnoticed. Starn dislodges an IV from his arm in the process. This is quite painful, and his eyes blur, thoug he doesn’t cry out, whether from shock or from courage he couldn’t say.
Roll: 2
Several employees walk past as Jack is reading the labels, heading to their lunch break. Well, so much for feigning ignorance. Speaking of lunch, it has been a while since Jack ate, and he is pretty damned hungry.
Roll: 6
Like an epileptic marrionette, Stan moves, first one limb, then another, finally uprighting himself shoulders first, legs working their way together, arms dangling, head bowed. Gravity constantly tugs at him, seeking to pull him back Down, but with constant minor adjustments, Stan can remain vertical.
Roll: 6
Jeremy is walking down a long, poorly lit, narrow corridor. On each side are doors, mostly closed, and some windows, looking out onto darkness. As he passes one door, he hears angry shouts and crying sobbing from inside. Passing a window, he sees nothing but blood, dripping down the pane. Passing another door, this one large and metal, as of a shipping container, it swings open and he recoils from the bodies inside, some still moving. Jeremy becomes aware after some time that he is being followed. The doors behind him are opening, and the sounds coming from them increase - the figures inside shambling, running, striding, crawling out after him. No matter which locomotion they use, they seem to remain in the same relative location behind Jeremy - a runner never advancing before a crawler, a shambler never falling behind a strider. Even the bodies that do not move seem to somehow always be right behind him. And they all are gaining. Jeremy turns back forward, and only now he sees that he is no longer ahead of the figures, but is amongst them. Some are sobbing, some are screaming ,some are shouting at him, clawing, punching, dragging at him, accusing, beseeching, staring, bleeding. Revulsion and panic rise inside of him, thretening to overwhelm him.
Roll: 4
"No no no no no!"
Joe is less than coherent at this point.
He uickly crawls forward, then rights himself and runs out into the street, trying to shout down the voices. The late hour prevents him from being run over, but Joe is unaware of this as he runs, casting off voices as he goes. He runs for as long as he can, going nowhere, anywhere, somewhere they are not! As he runs, and the pain fills his lungs, the voices fade and reduce in number until only a few are let. Exhausted, Joe doubles over, gasping for breath and coughing dark bile and smoke from inside. As he coughs, his head begins to clear. It seems to be working. He seems to be able to drive them off, for the moment, though some remain, chittering in his head and taunting him.
Roll: 3
Annie slept fitfully that night, dreaming o a long hospital hallway, filled with children on cots, on the floor, standing in clumps or alone. She passed one child with a lollipop stuck in her ear, and another boy holding his detached arm out, telling a doctor that it was the wrong one, and didn’t have enough green scales, like a lizard. Two girls seemed to be stuck together at the waste, one’s feet dangling out the side, while the other girl’s arm was pinned inside the fusion. They were asking for ice cream. Further on, the wounds grew more gruesome, and less random, with blood becoming evident on skinned knees, bruised elbows, broken bones, lacerations and worse. The random babble of a meaningless dream gave way to sobs, complaints, and silence. Vacant stares haunted Annie as much as the sight of the blood did. She awoke in the morning covered in sweat, with deep purple bags under her eyes - remembering little but troubled nonetheless.
Roll: 1
Starn closes his eyes and wishes the straps away, as if they were never there to begin with. Believing that confidence is the key to success, he acts as if the straps were truly gone and tries to stand. The straps hold, and Starn’s thrashing earns him close attention by his attendant, who leans heavily on Starn’s chest to keep him still. “Hold still, you’ll hurt yourself, mister. It’s going to be okay. Tell me, what’s your name?” She talks soothingly but firmly, almost maternally. Starn can’t help but to trust her a little.
Roll: 3
Jack leaves “work” and heads out to his familiar hunting grounds - the soup kitchens around town. It is a long walk, however, and he manages to make it to only one before they all close. He gets a small meal of soup and bread - enough to keep him going, not enough to fill him. He is unable even to get a customary doggie bag to take with him today.
Roll: 2
Stan enacts a reasonable plan to attempt to train himself to act in this new reality. Unfortunately, it takes more concentration than he currently has to remain vertical. Somehow, each time he concentrates on one aspect of gravity, mass, balance, and direction, another slips from his grasp. In a more lucid moment, Stan discovers himself slumped in a “corner,” - a meeting place between two vertical surfaces - on his knees, half tilted forward, with his chin resting against the wall and his head tilted upward, staring at a … is that also called a corner? That place where THREE planes meet?
Roll: 2
Jeremy sinks into despair, forms grasping him from all sides, pulling him apart. He tries to close his eyes to it all, but they are held open by tiny little hands, and the light glares into him, revealing every stain in his soul. Jeremy tries to escape somehow, anyway, but the chains wrapped about him are tight, leading back into the flesh of his tormentors - those he tormented, and those he couldn’t prevent from being tormented. The bars of his cage wouldn’t bend - he could not escape the things he had done, the things he had seen.
Roll: 6
Joe begins thrashing about violently, nearly convulsing in his attempt to rid himself of darkness. The vigorous motion, the pain, and the hacking cough that accompanied it all served to expel the smoke and the voices until inside, nothing remained but silence. Silence and wheezing. Joe lay on the concrete, staring at the streetlight above him, and the dimness beyond where the night sky probably is. After some time, Joe reflects, perhaps unwillingly, on the events of the day. It had not been a pleasant one. Nor a fulfilling one, he ponders, as his stomach joins his lungs in uttering their protests against his current lifestyle.
Roll: 2
Edward increases his speed, and loops a few more times to lose his tail. It is of no avail, as he sots the guy again not two blocks before arriving at his parents’ place, this time sitting on a back porch with a beer in hand. The man raises a hand in greeting as Edward runs by. He saw Edward seeing him!
Roll: 3
Annie spends most of the day on the couch, watching daytime tv. Talk shows, Soaps, infomercials, that kind of thing. Mostly she just lays there, taking it in, sinking into a blue funk.
Roll: 1
"St-" Starn begins. He is cut off by the violent swerving and tire squealing of the ambulance. Fortunately or Starn, the nurse’s position leaning on top of him prevents him and the bed he is strapped to from falling over in the cramped back of the ambulance. He does get a bloody nose from te nurse falling into him, bashing his face with her forehead. “Oooowwwww” Starn and the nurse say in unison, to the melodic background cursing of the driver. The sirens go on, and the ambulance picks up speed.
Roll: 2
Outside the soup kitchen, Jack complains about the food. Random passersby look at him funny, but most avoid eye contact. A few, especially women and anyone with small children, find other routes around his location. A couple of the other recipients of the food chime in a little about their situation and the quality of the hospitality they are receiving, though they are divided on this. “These people go out of their way to help us when we are down. It’s rude to bite the hand that feeds you.” “Oh yeah? Look who’s all high and mighty! I wouldn’t feed this swill to a dog! It probably costs them less than fifty dollars to feed us. They could afford to put a little effort in!” “Look who’s talking about effort! Get off your ass and at least try to get a job, you bum! Expecting everyone to do everything for you like some kind of King!” “I have a medical condition” “assface isn’t a medical condition!” “You son of a -“
Roll: 1
Left passes. Stan falls fishward. Someone turns out the macaroni. It’s going to be a looong pillowcase back to reality.
Roll: 4
Joe eventually gets up and heads off toward a restaurant. He fishes around for a bit, and comes up with half a pack of moldy bread, still in it’s wrapper. What luck! There are almost three whole buns in this pack! Nearby, a fight seems to be breaking out amongst some folk in front of a shelter.
Roll: 3
“You lost, fella?” the man calls, after Ed stands there glaring for a minute. “You’ve been by my house three times already. Where you trying to get to?” He seems civil, but wary. Something about Ed’s attitude seems to make this guy a little uncomfortable.
Roll: 3
Annie drags herself off the couch and rummages through her desk drawers for a bit before locating all the medical information she has on file. It’s not a complet medical record, she’d have to talk to a doctor about that, but it’ll do.
Roll: 1
The ambulance arrives safely at the hospital at last, and Starn is carted out the back of the ambulance and wheeled inside. He overhears a conversation between one of the irst responders and someone in white from the hospital. Something about electrical burns, contusions, and a bloody nose. And then a whispered conversation, interrupted by a quick glance his way, and then a hasty move away rom him, out of earshot.
Roll: 2
Amused and a little entranced by the results of his complaints, Jack realizes just a touch too late that real trouble was brewing. Fists are raised, and voices get louder. Pushing happens, and Jack is right in the middle of it. He gets hit in the face by a plastic bag reeking of garbage. It’s soft, though, and does no damage.
Roll: 5
At last! Up and down become apparent once more, and Stan finds himself on his hands and knees. Balance is restored. Literal balance, as in, his inner ear is no longer making the world twist and turn every time he moves his head. Time and space resolve themselves in a sparkling moment of clarity, beore muddying a bit, though not back to the morass they were but moments ago.
Roll: 4
Being attacked from all sides, Jeremy strikes back. He struggles wildly, pushing, hitting, kicking, occasionally biting, and the images begin to falter. Some look betrayed, some look fearful, some fight savagely on, bt the chains become less and less, and Jeremy finds himself alone again in a dark hallway, the images of the past locked behind doors, seen but through windows, or lining the walls in picture frames. A few still cling to him strongly, but not enough to keep him from moving forward, toward the dim light he sees ahead.
Roll: 2
Walking away from the dumpster, Joe pulls out a bun and is about to eat, when the raised voices around him cause him to look up. Unfortunately, he looks up a little too late, and a body collides with his. He is unharmed, but in his fright, he lost hold of the bag. He didn’t se ewhere it went. The bun he was about to snack on is still in his hand, though, if a bit crumpled. The jostling apears manageable at the moment, too, so he doesn’t seem in immediate danger for his life.
Roll: 6
"Just enjoying the scenery, pal."
In a hurry, and still concerned about a tail, Ed runs quickly away, hoping to regain his anonymity before heading back to his parents’ place. He runs a bit longer than he means to, and ends up rather winded two miles away. Mom’s probably wondering where he is by now.
Roll: 1
Annie takes one step outside and her heartbeat races. The overcast sky threatens death by lightning and thunder, springtimem hail and sleet, floods and the sniffles. She feels the panicked need to find her kids and get them inside, before a Kevin Costner movie breaks out the storm breaks.
Roll: 5
While the doctor and nurse are distracted, Starn manages to free himself from the cart at last! For a moment, it’s as if time slows down, and Starn sees the situation clearly. Doctor and nurse ten feet away to the right, the ambulance behind, a cop car behind that. People coming and going from an entrace twenty feet to the right, and the doors to the emergency entrance right before him. He could maybe, just maybe, make an escape, if he were very careful. And Starn is very careful.
Roll: 6
Jack Screams in terror, grabs the thing that hit him, and runs off, knocking several of the combatants over on his way through. He runs blindly for a while, not daring to look behind, but certan of one thing - the sound of pursuit.
Roll: 1
Try as he might, Stan can’t manage to get upright. He’s sure he has the mechanics for it in his head, but his limbs just won’t ully cooperate, and his inner ear starts acting up again, leaving him dizy and disoriented on the floor. At least he knows it IS a floor, though. Things could be worse. Or they could be not at all.
Roll: 3
Jeremy tries to shake off his regrets and burdens and to move into clarity, but thye continue to cling to him. Instead, he moves into a dim awareness and sorrow as he slowly opens his eyes to his apartment. The weight of his past settles again on his shoulders as if it seeks to drag him back into dark unconsciousness, but it leaes him all to conscious of the world around him in all it’s misery and shame.
Roll: 3
Joe stuffs the bun in his mouth whole. It bulges in his cheek and nearly chokes him. Just as he starts to chew, trying to work bits of it down to a more manageable mouthful, the chaos in front of him gets more dangerous, and he turns to flee, having no time to search for the rest of his meal. He runs a little way before he realizes he is running behind someone else. Hey! Tht guy has his bag of buns! Looks like he is going in the right direction after all.
Roll: 5
At last, Ed makes it to his parents home, and sneaks in the back door, wary eyes darting all around to detect any surveilance. Satisfied that he is at last unobserved, he enters the kitchen, where his mother and father look up from a late cup of cofee, mom reading a magazine, and dad scanning te sports section of the day’s news. Ed is sure this is at least the fifth time his dad has read that section today. “Oh, Eddie, there you are, dear. We had begun to worry.” She looks to Father for confirmation of their distressed state, but he barely glances up from the paper. “Son,” He says in greeting.
Roll: 3
Annie tries to catch her breath and think, and to an extent, she does. But the images of destruction remain forefront in her mind, babbling incessantly, urging her to ACTION. She isn’t quite frozen in fear, nor is she running down the street babbling madly, but she feels a great need to do something.
Roll: 5
Starn remains on the cart and stealthily attempts to evade the prying eyes of the doctors by using the cart to get to the anonymous safety of the parking lot. A little girl walking hand in hand with her mother sees him wiggling the cart away. “What’s the funny man doing, momma?” she asks. Her mother takes one look, and hurries er daughter inside. Panicked, Starn leaps off the cart and runs to the police cars, where he is, naturally, taken down, again, and cuffed, before being led right back to the art and the ambulance. “Easy, there, fella. We’ll get this sorted out. It’ll be okay.” A gruff voice says, as Starn is led to his doom. Soon, the cart, and Starn are wheel inside, and into an elevator with several doctors and two police officers. The air is tense, and few words are spoken.
Roll: 5
Hey, why’d someone hit me in the face with a nasty bag of buns?
Jack runs. He seems to leave his pursuer behind, but he keeps going anyway. Before he knows it, he is at the river, running over the bridge
Roll: 2
Try as he might, even the task of lying still is beyond Stan. He flops and wiggles, and keeps trying to get to his feet. He knows it’d be best to wait for his brain to catch up to his limbs, but he just can’t sit still. He can’t get up either, so he ends up just sort of flopping about for a while, making strange grunting noises. Huh. Well, it seems his voice is coming back, anyway.
Roll: 4
Some random comedies and a show about friendship on the Lifetime channel ugh, why did I watch that? provide welcome distraction from Jeremy’s worries, and he feels a bit better after a few hours. Restless, but awake and sober.
Roll: 5
"Father."
Ed is calmed by the familiar environment. The clock ticks away like an old friend, and Father and Mother go about their business as usual, mom fussing over Edward, and Dad stoic as always. Ed eats something, and accompanies them to the living room for some late evening television, before both parents head off to bed, leaving Ed to his own devices. “you know where the spare room is, and there are towels and wash-clothes laid out for you.” His mom says before kissing his forehead and going upstairs.
Roll: 4
Annie prays fervently for a while, not really about anything in particular. But it works, and she calms down. It’s still raining though.
Roll: 1
Impatient, Starn attempts to flee as the elevator rises. This earns him a sedative, administered while everal hold him down, and for the rest of the ride Starn is unable to move at all. He is wheeled eventually into a room. A nurse asks someone to the side “are you sure this is okay? One of them might hurt the other?”
“No, I doubt tht will happen. The other is harmless, and this one is sedated for now. Hmmm,” some papers shuffle. “We might need to put him in a room alone when he recovers though. Anxiety and paranoia. Yes, he COULD be a danger to himself or others. But for now, he’ll be fine. Watch him closely though.”
One more voice offers it’s thoughtful and reasoned input.
“P-p-potato?”
Roll: 2
Jack pulls a bun out of the bag. Actually, he pulls all the buns out - they’re stuck together. He goes to take a bite but fumbles and drops the lot in a puddle. A nearby dog runs over and gobbles about half the package. Ugh. The rest …. It COULD be edible yet. Soggy. Dirty. Rejected by a street dog. But edible-ish. Maybe.
Roll: 4
Stan works his rusty voice for a while. Is that what he sounds like? Weird.
“M-m-manners? Fffffiiiissshhhhh? B-b-abananananananananabababanana?”
“P-p-potato?”
Roll: 4
Jeremy looks a t the clock. 9:51 A.M.
Roll: 3
Ed goes to his room and tries to sleep. He begins to doze, when he hears a sound. Is that an intruder? He walks downstairs to check, but finds no one. Nervous, he returns to his room and tries again. Sleep is long in coming, and fitful. Twice mor ethrough the night he finds himself awake, staring out the window looking for the Watchers, or downstairs with a bat in hand, looking for the source of noise. He never does catch them though. Perhaps it was his imagination. Or perhaps not. He doesn’t know. He awakens in the morning unsettled and tired. And also worried sick about something. But what? It’s hard to remme- his kids!
I apologize in advance for the format and somewhat clipped writing style this round. Thinking and caring are a bit challenging these days, but I don't want to let you guys down. The quality might suffer a touch, but on the bright side, I am going to try to include more hijinks and real effects from your insanities for a bit. Nothing major today, but .... we'll see.
Walk to the post office.
6 Annie marches directly to the post office, storms in, and lays all the requisite forms and identification items on the desk, ignoring the line of customers she bypasses on the way in. The man behind the counter looks at her in surprise, white eyebrows arching into invisibility behind his equally white bangs. "What's all this?" he asks.
I-I-I-I nnnneed hhhhhhellllp, ppplllleeeeaseeee.
Articulate my desire for assistance for anyone who can hear me.
2 "P-potat-to. N-no g-go-o-d. P-po-tat-o." Your audience seems sympathetic and encouraging.
Mourn the bum buns. Build a funeral pyre for them. Also so They can't get a DNA sample from you.
1 You fish around in the nearby alley for some combustables, but come up with only soggy cardboard and a copy of Highlights for Children that has seen better days. Nothing lights. It rains on you. A shadow moves in the alley. Is that Them? It must be!
See what's going on in the news
3 Wars and rumors of wars. Violence, a human interest story about chickens in the city, and more tragedy and violence. you think you recognize a couple of names. It gets a little muddy, in there.
Mumble through the sedatives.
"Nah..who cares about the paper..I'll be fine..
3 You mutter a bit. The guy nearby responds. You have the most delightful, intellectual conversation. or some reason it makes you hungry for hash browns or fries or something.
Call my wife and demand her to return home.
3 You call your wife. You call her all sorts of names. In your head. You're pretty sure you only said those things in your head. In fact, she doesn't answer though. Her sister does. "She says you are having one of your episodes. She's not coming home until you are reasonable again. What? I'm not going to say that! ...No, you know what he can be l- ... fine Shesaysshelovesyougoodbye" Click.
Roll: 6
"This is for my job application."
A manager walks out from the back room just as you are saying this. It’s like fate has conspired to get you what you want today. She looks at you a little oddly, but invites you back for an interview. After some minutes, as she is sifting through your files, she pauses. “Hmm. Tell me about this car accident. It looks like you spent some time in the hospital afterward, and … oh my. Oh dear.” A variety of emotions crosses her face as she continues to read.
Roll: 5
Starn goes out like a light. He slips into a state somewhat like sleep, though more still, more … empty. A state where nothing changes, nothing concerns him, and nothing reaches him.
Roll: 3
The only cloth that Homeless Snake can find is on his body. He COULD tear up his shirt for a bandana. It’s cold out though, and the shirt is pretty ragged as it is. He does spy, off in the shadows, a figure that must be one of THEM. The destroyers of buns, the enemy of the sane, the poisoners of sports drinks everywhere.
Roll: 2
“I … need … help.” Stan calls out, slowly. It takes forever to form the words. As he does, Stan’s eye turns toward the figure which shares his space. It, too, is supine on a bed, and it seems unresponsive. It moves not at all during Stan’s struggles, and speaks nothing. Exhausted, Stan falls silent, just as a nurse enters the room and begins to check machinery, turn down the bedding, and examine each of the occupants o the room, briskly.
Roll: 5
Jeremy dresses, and heads out into the bleak world, down the street, to the nearest Pizzaria, where he dines in the late morning quiet. The pizza is filling and satisfying. For once, the demons are kept at bay.
Roll: 5
It’s the same old story: show respect to the customers. Use full sentences and courtesy when selling fireworks, keep all the dangerous stuff locked away from the kids, keep anger in check, and try not to make a big deal about some super conspiracy threatening to destroy us all, all the time. Also, flowers. God knows why, but flowers and chocolates seem to help. Oh and the usual stuff about feelings and listening and respect and spending time with her and the kids and so forth. Sometimes she can be so unreasonable about what is reasonable.
Name: Ryan Bonner
bio: College Drop-Out(studied carpentry/fine art). A sensitive type, he doesn't actually like too much manual labor especially under the sun, doesn't like loud noises, or impurities in tap water, stuff that doesn't seem to bother most
Affliction: believes there must be something to these radical new age ideas of abundance, ideas that might compel him to take risks that would to others seem to be blind leaps into homelessness or dependency.
Passion: live life impromptly doing things that bring him joy, moment to moment. Has an interest in Daft Punk, Dead Mouse, video game culture, and paleontology(dinosaurs) aswell as ufology, believes in extra terrestrials and regularly listens to channeling from Bashar, who claims to be an ET being channeled through Darryl Anka on youtube. This being mostly teaches these "follow your joy" philosophies.