Bay 12 Games Forum

Beer, guns and lady's in that order.

You drive through the city, watching the flows of traffic, the people, the buildings. It's all very different from the ground in the host body. Another convenience store about ten blocks away has a similar "cheepest beers" sign, so you give it a try. There's an older man at the counter, talking to a younger customer, a boy maybe ten. They both look at you in horror as you stride in, caked in damp gore, and go right past them to the liquor.

"H-have you been in an ac-accident?" the older man asks. The boy just stares with eyes like saucers.

You plunk the pair of six packs on the counter and shove a sheaf of bills at the man. "Nope. Just fine." you tell him. He starts ringing you in, but looks totally mystified and afraid. The boy continues to stare, so you lower your sunglasses and wink at him. He runs out of the store clutching his groceries to his chest.

The older man hands you your change and slides the beer back. "Are you, uh, don't you, uh, need a-"

"Nah." you say. "Totally fine." Then you leave with the beer.

Guns is a little bit of a taller order, but you luck out and discover a place, closed for the night and locked up with a security door and barred windows. In other words, practically wide open. You get out of the car, stroll over, practically pull the front of the building down pulling the security door open, and saunter right in. Alarms start blaring, but that's not really your concern. There's a shiny black shotgun that catches your eye which sits inside a reinforced case, so again, it's basically yours for the taking. It might be fun to play with. A couple of boxes of heavier shells are behind a counter and go with the shotgun, so you grab them as well. Why not?

A pair of interesting looking handguns get inspected, but they appear to be missing a component so you discard them. You're still wandering the store inspecting the goods when you hear the police arrive outside. There's a light, shining through the doorway. "POLICE! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

What now?

Eat her.

You can't eat her, you're already full!

You vomit heavily, throwing up most of the inorganic stuff in a messy slurry to the floor. NOW you can eat her. She starts screaming into the receiver as you launch yourself across the counter and bury your teeth into her face. In a few quick bites, you crush her skull and swallow a fair deal of hair, skin, muscle, bone, and teeth, though I'm pretty sure teeth is just a kind of bone so I repeat myself. Once she stops wriggling consuming the rest of her is fairly rapid. You begin modifying the interior of your host body to better suit your needs, since honestly speaking this is probably not the last person you're going to eat. (you gain +5 essence, but three are spent giving you cast iron digestion.)

You catch sight of yourself in the security camera monitor behind the counter and wipe your chin and adjust your hair.

The reciever is hanging off the hook, police dispatch talking to dead air while you help yourself to a package of skittles.

What now?

Quote from: Cheesecake on September 02, 2015, 10:54:20 pm

Loot the insignificant man and his car.

+1 then loot the convenience store.

Then dropkick the man, and his car. Afterwards, climb a lamp post and body slam him from there.

Embracing the psychotic impulses you've been unable to express for eternity, you grab the mans body, jump onto the roof of the car while holding him by the stump, and then body slam him into the ground where he explodes into a neat pulp around the snow. You laugh hysterically and roll around in the pooled gore and slush in the small crater you've created while absorbing his tiny life essence. Hurtling to your feet, you slip on the slush and fall down again, prompting more convulsive laughter. All right, time to pull yourself together. Giggling maniacally, you get back up, lift the dead man's tattered jeans,, shake them upside down. A wallet falls out, a couple of tickets to some show, some change. All of these you tuck into your pockets, and then you look over at the indentation you left in the hood of the car. Why not. (You gain +3 essence.)

You prance forward like a demented ballerina and kick the hood of the car so hard that the front bumper shears off and goes flying onto someone's front lawn while the rest of the car neatly flies backwards about ten feet and comes to a rest rocking on its back. The alarm inside the car goes off, squeaks weakly a couple times, and dies.

Then, you skip down the road towards the convenience store. There's an ice machine off to one side that is covered in snow, a sign that tells you "cheapest beer" is sold here, another telling you it's open for twenty four hours. Inside, there's a counter being manned by a worried looking middle aged woman, staring at you through the glass. Behind her there's a rack of cigarettes, and the store is full of shelves and freezers full of colorful packages. You reach for the door and find it is locked. You're about to rip it off the hinges when the woman buzzes you in. "Oh my god." she says, "Are you all right?"

"Great!" you reply. You grab a chocolate bar off the shelf, tear the wrapper off and bite a huge chunk out of it - it's sickeningly sweet, delicious, but oddly corrupt tasting, impure. All the same, it's wonderful. You start crying with delight, ripping things off the shelves and devouring them while the woman stares in horror. A couple of packages of chips, followed by a carton of 3% milk (you just punch right through the freezer door, who has time to open these things) that you open with your teeth, followed by a frozen pizza that you rip out of the primary carton but don't bother unwrapping or removing the cardboard beneath it. Then a package of stale rice crips, an entire bottle of honey, a DVD, part of the shelf, an entire bag of fudge candy rolls wrappers and all, a large bottle of vodka, and then another carton of milk to finish things off. (You gain +1 essence)

The woman starts calling someone on the phone behind the counter. What now?

You sleep with the Legion, deep beneath the worlds. For the length of almost all existence, you've been in hibernation in the tiniest of prisons. You, and everyone who lost the war against the creator. The reasons are lost to you. Even dreams stopped eventually, as memory of what creation was like faded. Just a vague awareness of self, and a burning resentment.

Then something changed.

A shockwave. An explosion, or an implosion, a wave of incredible force rippled across the surface of the prison, crackles of lightning arcing along the glassy, dark surface. The Legion awoke in unison as the seams of The Prison bent and warped, a thousand howls of fury and confusion, a thousand writhing, changing forms, yourself included, battered against the weakened walls, and the prison shattered.

Then the Legion scattered to the four winds, rising to the surface of the world, through the void and the land of ghosts, and into creation proper. Blind with sensory overload, in shock, berserk and anguishing, you hurtled through the surface of the void and tore into the plane of creation.

You materialized as a cloud of rolling black smoke and tendrils of fire and lightning, rolling across the sky above Earth, vast enough to engulf a city. But the nature of creation has changed. There is almost no essence to be found, and your form begins to melt away very quickly. A host. You need a vessel to carry you. You spread your senses out across the city sprawled beneath you, and reach out - a blur of voices, machines, thrumming electricity, roaring engines, radios, televisions, wifi - a glut of information almost as awful as your return to consciousness. The souls are wrong - warped, resistant, lacking essence. Unsuitable. You spread out further.

In an alleyway, beneath a single lonesome lamp, you find a host. Her will is gone, her mind a ruin, lying there staring into nothing. A most suitable host. Your essence rapidly draining away, you spiral down towards the host, down into the alley. A rolling cloud of black smoke only as large as a building, a car, and then you reach your host and enter it, through the ears, nose, eyes, mouth. A satisfying feeling of safety and control rushes to you, and you feel good. Sitting up, you flex your hand experimentally, forming a fist. Yes. Perfect.

You leap to your feet, give your host body an experimental shake, stretch, and start laughing. Revenge will be yours.

It is night. You are in an alleyway in a neighborhood that doesn't look all that bad. You are wearing a torn coat, otherwise respectable clothing, nice boots, and a comfortable knit cap. There's a light dusting of snow on the ground out in the street and perhaps three feet of accumulation in most of the alleyway. There's an indentation in the snowbank where your host body was lying.

What do you do next?

Subscribed. The music reminds me of early nineties games; The Dig in particular. It's great.

I feel Kevak's pain. Let's strike directly at the opposition, shall we? None of this terror mission crap - we're not the aliens from X-com.

Ask if she knows where we are or what's going on. Ask her what her name is.

From the numerals, I'm guessing she's probably our clone sister, or something like that.