Bay 12 Games Forum

Try and get that bit of blood of the ceiling.

Welp, might as well. You find a wet wipe in your glove compartment and try to expunge the tiny blood splatter. Thankfully it comes out without too much effort, and you don't have to drive all the way home to get the peroxide. While you're at it, you scan the rest of the ceiling for remnants of last night's harrowing events, and fortunately find only a few more easily-erased marks. Now your car is truly clean. Well, relatively speaking. Hmm. Still got Mr. Henderson's harmonica sitting on the console there. You wonder if you should stow it somewhere, or something.

Well then, let's wait for the afternoon

The skies get fuller and darker as the day goes on. You see gradually fewer pings, it being a weekday and the weather taking a turn, and other drivers snap them up for the most part. It starts to drizzle a bit, off and on, and you manage to pick up a few folks who'd rather not walk, but overall things are starting to get frustrating again. However, as it's getting on past five, and the workday draws to a close, your map starts getting busy again and you spot some opportunities:

*Joe Brent, going from your grocery store to a nearby house.

*Petra Farooqi, going from the bank to a duplex.

*Pat Kressener, going from a hotel to a pizzeria.

"Sure," you say. You hope this guy knows how much this is costing him. Not that you're complaining. You pull out of the parking lot and start heading North. It's another long, silent ride as Leshawn pays no mind to you, scrolling furiously on his phone. Soon enough you're coming up on a five-story apartment building across the street from the a grocery store. Wow, lucky.

"Here's me. Sorry for taking so much time." Leshawn pulls his pack out from the front seat.

"Don't worry about it, man." As he disembarks, you call out, "Good luck finding your pedal thing!"

Leshawn nods and heads inside. A second later, you get a blip on your phone. Damn, a $10 tip! And on top of that fare, too.

Leaning back and staring at the roof of your car, you notice a tint fleck of blood there. Damnit. Well, nothing to do about it right now. Hmm. You pick up your phone and tab over to the internet, entering Leshawn's name into the search bar. Hey, looks like he's got a profile on one of those resumé/gig-finding sites. Leshawn Keller, musician and DJ. Credited with music for something called "Green Thunder." Seems like he's DJ'd for a few local people.

Leshawn returns after a couple minutes, settling down in the back again. "Naw. I got one more place to check though. That cool with you?"

"That has some to do with electric guitars, I think."

"You can use it for electric guitars, yeah," Leshawn says, buckling up. "I'm looking for one that plugs into both my bass and my rig, though. Like, the EDM panel and the bass have a jack, but my computer is USB, so I wanna get one that can plug both kinds of cables. I'd look for an adapter but I already got both the cables, and it kinda fucks with the sound."

Shawn's looking at his phone as he says all this, making you unsure whether or not he'd want to keep talking as you drive.

Perspective doesn't really matter as much when drawing people. Unless you're drawing like super realistic.

"Sure, but it'll cost extra," you tell him.

"That's fine," he says, dragging his backpack up over the headrest and then disembarking. "Thanks."

You press "add stop" on your app and leave the dialogue sitting open, watching Leshawn head walk on into the big store. A couple minutes roll by, and you pull into a parking space near the front, starting to wonder about any customers you could be missing out on right now. But, Leshawn pings you on the app and shortly you see him leave the store, and he jogs over to your car. "We gotta try somewhere else," he says, and starts typing into his phone. Your "add stop" pops up with a new destination, another electronics outlet store.

Arriving at the strip mall, you see a tall, scrawny young man with a big backpack and braided hair standing outside the old Radio Shack, staring intently at his phone. As you roll on up, he looks at up at your car, evidently noticing your sticker. "You my ride?" he asks, approaching.

"Leshawn?" You've decided to just keep the passenger window open to facilitate such things.

"Yeah"

"Then yep," you answer. Leshawn plonks his ginormous backpack down onto the passenger seat and hops in the back, returning to his phonegazing. You swing around towards the street, passing another young-ish man with a buzz-cut waiting outside a law office. He stares at your windshield sticker as you go by. Hmm, if only it was a carpool.

Well, that's that. You make sure to lock your apartment and run back out to the car. Let's see... there's more drivers out right now, so there's only a couple you could get to:

* Leshawn Keller, going from the strip mall to a large electronics store.

* Nate Meyes, going from the strip mall to an apartment building.