I'm up. (#3)

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>>1332075
With two bangs of a shotgun the monster fell, its killer an emaciated, blonde woman. She's taken up shelter in Rupert's, and the two of you seem to have come to an unconfirmed agreement to assist each other in gathering supplies and killing monsters. This is one of the most inconsistent human beings you've ever met. She actually seems to like being in such a dangerous town, but she seems to slip between personality shifts by the minute. She also seems to be incapable of going extended periods of time without having a cigarette.

She's traded her shotgun and 15 shells in exchange for your knife. According to her, she can't handle the kickback from the firearm and you would be better suited to holding a lighter weapon. The two of you then set off to Anna's Tailoring in search of better clothes.

We left off with you just having busted out a small window (that you can't fit through). You have sent the stranger through, her being much lighter and thinner than you. It's pitch black in the building save for the outside light shining in. You're standing facing the busted window and the stranger is standing inside of the building facing you.

(Please standby for graphics.)

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(This is your map, along with a few modifications. You do not know who wrote the note for Jenny's, nor do you know who Alan is. You've made red, jagged lines at the points of the holes in the road.

Unfortunately last time you slipped, fell, and busted the red marker you used to make these notes on your map with. You'll be unable to make any more visual notes or markings until you get another writing utensil.)

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(This is a new addition, your Quest Log.

Your main goal is to get the hell out of this crazy place, but there are some things you've noticed along the way. This is the documentation for all of the stranger, more impacting things that have happened to you as well as goals you set for yourselves.

This should be seen as a guide for the important things you've seen in the town and what will have an effect on you during this quest. It's not meant to record everything that happens, but you will see bigger plot points as well as goals the players decide to go after here.)

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(Your current physical sheet, containing non-combat items, clothes, and storage spaces.)

(8/8 small storage slots are open, and 2/4 medium storage slots are open.)

>>1332082

(Also I should have put here that you're looking for a way to repair your satchel. The sling snapped due to weak thread, and the tailoring shop should have something to repair it with.)

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(This is your combat sheet.

As it says on the right, you may earn special abilities and modifiers to improve your performance in combat. Right now, you've got a shotgun with limited ammo, and have fired none of the 15 rounds.)

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(And last but not least this is your partner's combat sheet. As you can see, she has plenty of ups and downs. Let's review a couple of them.

The stranger has a lot of combat advantages, but in terms of reliability she falls short. The stranger will exchange any item at random for an item that will satisfy her fixations... Cigarettes, prescriptions, etc... If she goes without any of her fixations she will take combat penalties.

She also does poorly when handling heavy weapons. What constitutes a heavy weapon? Well, quite a few things when you look at her body type. A shotgun, a mallet, a large piece of wood... She's better suited to lighter weapons just because she can't physically handle larger ones.)

(And now, to continue where we left off.)

You can just barely see the stranger in the dark as she gathers the spilled contents of her pockets and stands up. She looks around, then turns and stares at you. Her form is shadowed, the sunken areas of her face looking even darker in the dim light.

You noticed that in a very brief period of her gathering her things and turning towards you she's lit yet another cigarette. Does she have endless smokes? You're not sure. But this means she still has her lighter on her.

The two of you stand there in silence for some time. You notice that she's met your height... The floor in the store must be slightly elevated, as you noticed she was a little bit shorter than you before. The stranger seems to be waiting for you to say something. It's almost eerie how unconcerned she is with the darkness behind her.

A. "What do you see?"

B. "Unlock the door."

C. "Are there any creatures in there?"

D. Other (specify).

>>1332098
>B. "Unlock the door."

>>1332092
-Selfish
(Will trade out any item for cigarettes or pills.)
>any item
>inb4 she trades out the keys to escaping Mr. I'm Up's Wild Ride for a pack of cigs.

>>1332075
Were the previous threads already archived, QM? I still have to go back and fully read through the threads since I only got to skim through the 2nd puzzle from the 1st thread.

>>1332098
>B. "Unlock the door."
>A. "What do you see?"
>C. "Are there any creatures in there?"
Does the stranger have better perception than us?

>>1332588

>>1300234
>>1313913

(Those are the first two.)

>>1332626
(Hard to say, you don't really know enough about her to make that judgment accurately.)

(You chose to tell her to unlock the door.)

"Unlock the door." You say, trying to peer into the window. She leans back, feet still planted, and looks towards the inside portion of the door. She tilts her head rather far, then walks over to where she stares. All you can see at this point is the outline of her frame.

"Yeah there's no handle in here." You hear the noise of warped wood clicking against itself. "...It's not pushing open, either." You can hear her bare feet shuffle on the carpet. You wait for a moment, and right before you're about to say something else she interjects with a long sigh.

You notice that there's no real trace of anxiety or worry in her voice, and that she seems to be handling this better than most normal people would.

"Go around the back, I'm going to see if I can unlock the door. I'll knock if I can't get it open." You peek your head in the window just enough to see where she was, and she's gone.

Looks like she decided this one for you. You don't know how you feel about that.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

>>1332761
>Go around the back
Let's do what she says, stick to plan since she's gone and it's better than losing track of her.

>>1332761
Oh, sorry. I meant an archive on Sup/tg/, for when the 4chan archive empties itself. The 4chan archive preserves more of the features than Sup/tg/ though, so thanks.

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>>1332800
(I will holler and link if I see this quest on there.)

(It also just dawned on me that I don't have a graphic for the business cards you've collected. Working on that right now.)

(You chose to go around the back.)

With your gun in-hand you walk around the back of the building, hushed and listening for any sort of noise. You don't want to walk into another battle, even if you're armed with what's probably a far more versatile and powerful weapon than that knife.

As you drift towards the back of the building you feel... Bristly. Like before, your hairs are standing on the back of your neck, skin tingling as if a thousand pins are being driven into the skin. You begin to sweat, the cold shine running down the back of your neck as your skin begins to lose its color. It's that feeling again, just like the one you had directed towards the back of the mall.

No... This is different. That time before you felt threatened. You felt as if you were going to be killed, as if your body rejected even the thought of entering the area. This time you just feel... Aware. Like something is making its presence known to you, but has no desire to harm you. Your skin is cold and clammy, and your hair is bushed out to where any outsider would think you were electrified, but you're not afraid.

Then your eyesight begins to blur, as if the world is dissolving around you. Your ears pop, ringing and drowning out any noise that may have entered the area. You shake your head to rid yourself of the symptoms, but nothing seems to work.

It's as if the world around you is fading away.

You subconsciously grip your gun tighter. Little specs of light begin to blot your eyes, like sun spots. They begin to move and form shape, taking on a physical image.

You recognize that it's a woman.

It's little more than a vision of light, but you can make out the feminine shape. Long curls of hair cascade down her back, reaching her hips which taper off into the shape of a skirt. It seems a little short, like it doesn't fit well. Not unlike you, she is barefoot. She stands with her back to you, facing the wall behind the store.

Everything seems to be devoid of color at this point. Even if you wanted to open your mouth to call out or scream, you don't think you could. You just stand with your shotgun poised... And something in the back of your head tells you to hold your fire.

The light begins to shift again, and the visage of this person turns towards you slowly. Not a sound is made as the figure moves, although the long waves of her hair waft in a wind that is not present.

She turns towards you, and you instantly notice that this... This doesn't have a face. There is no feature, nor definition. There is simply nothing there.

Your mouth is completely shut, and your ears hear nothing but a high-pitched hum. Your body feels heavy. Your legs won't move. Your feet won't run.

The only part of your body that you can feel is your arms.

A. Hold your fire.

B. Shoot the figure.

>>1333050
A. Hold your fire.
Let's trust our sixth sense here. Is this the ghost lady who helped us out earlier?

>(I will holler and link if I see this quest on there.)
I could try submitting a request for archival on Sup/tg/, but I haven't done it before nor am I sure what I should include for the quest submission.

>>1333050
>>1333059
A. Hold your fire.
But still aim, just in case.

>>1333139
Not unreasonable, given the circumstance. Still, I don't think ghost lady will much appreciate having a gun pointed at her face, so tone it down to getting into a firing stance and having our finger near the trigger?

>>1333050
It recently occurred to me, could this be the ghost of Anna's Tailoring?

>>1333162
Trigger discipline is a must.

>>1333139
>>1333162
Actually, come to think of it we could still aim near the door since ghost lady's presence gave us tunnel vision, may have ruined our situational awareness for nearby monsters, and is relatively close to the entrance. That is, if ghost lady hasn't transferred us into a pocket dimension.
>>1333170
Of course, so on the trigger guard than on the actual trigger, wouldn't want an accidental discharge before we've ascertained her relations to us.

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(You chose to hold your fire.)

You grip your shotgun tightly, turning it slowly towards the woman's direction with no intent to pull the trigger. You flinch as the air suddenly turns ice cold, the figure cowering as the barrel is pointed her way. She starts shaking, hands raised in trembling surrender, and you oblige. You do not let go of, but lower your gun so that she's clear of any fire.

Slowly, seemingly petrified, she begins to walk closer to you. The hairs on your body shiver, bristling furiously as this thing inches to you. Her hands are still raised and her head is bowed in total submission. If she had eyes they wouldn't have even glanced up at yours.

You get the feeling that whoever or whatever this is, is more afraid of you than you are of it.

Her right hand extends slowly to you, carrying the feeling of intensity with it. Your body leans back, the motion nothing more than a primal means of caution, and she pauses. You hold yourself in the awkward position, looking at her blank face.

Her hand extends to you again, long, slender, feminine fingers stretching out. You squint, the glowing form making your pupils dilate. The figure reaches up and strokes your hair from your face, brushing the loose strands behind your ears.

It's weird. You don't know if you like or hate what she's doing, but it's a foreign feeling. The cold extends to your skin, which isn't entirely unpleasant but it is not welcome. You blink rapidly and wrinkle your nose, using all of your strength to step back with one foot.

You feel the sensations you experienced decrease, and your specter-ly caretaker hangs her head in what you assume to be disappointment. She withdraws her hand and places both of her palms on her featureless face, rubbing her forehead and pushing back her hair. Her fingers knot in the waves, pulling her head back to what looks like a painful extent.

You hear a sharp 'pop' and stumble back, caught off guard.

Your surroundings have returned to what they were before. Trash on the ground, stone and brick mottled with age, the dew and fog settling low... There is nothing around that would even suggest much less explain what just happened.

Although... You're not as sore from any of your falls. The blows you had sustained from your earlier combat have left no trace. You feel your jawline and roll your shoulders. Everything feels how it should feel.

The sensations have vanished completely.

(100% of HP restored.)

You jump as the back door begins to bang loudly, then your mind recalls your arrangement with the stranger. Sounds like she couldn't get the door open after all. The bangs subside and you think you hear a loud clattering and curses from inside, but it returns to the usual silence rather quickly. You don't put it past the stranger to have weaseled into something only to have it fall down on her. You're not worried.

But it seems as if you're back to square one.

(1/2)

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>>1333192
Both the front and back door can't grant you entry, and neither can the small window. The stranger is in the tailoring shop, and you are standing by the backdoor.

(Please specify what you want to do.)

(2/2)

(Also, these are the business cards that you've collected. Your wallet can hold a maximum of 20, and you have 18 left. Sorry I didn't post this sooner, I really should have but my brain's been a little bit rattled lately.)

Should we blast the lock?
Do we want to waste the ammo?
Do we still want to enter?

>>1333201
Imma go for investigating Love's.

>>1333192
>>1333201
>Wave to ghost lady if she's watching, and give her a thumbs up. Or just wave out to wherever we think she might be and hope she's watching.
>Ask to the stranger if she has any ideas.
Does the back door have a lock that we can pick?
>>1333208
Ghost lady might be the former owner of this place, so I'd suppose not.
2nded going to Love's.

>>1333192
>>1333201
>>1333220
>Also offer some sort of apology to the ghost lady for pointing a gun at her, preferably one that the stranger can't hear.

What if the house we started in was Anna's? It had a book on tailoring, and that's where we found the business card?

Try the Bronze key on the door.

>>1333258
Could be, actually. Would explain a fair bit, and why she particularly decided to pop up around both places.
>>1333260
2nded, although I thought we auto-try keys on doors?

>>1333266
The front door nob was brass, wasn't it?
If we try it, and it works, then the stranger is gonna be mad at us.
I don't remember about the auto try for the keys.

>>1333276
Oh wait, there was no keyhole on the front door. nvm

>>1333276
>>1333280
We try the keys on the doors and it magically works because the ghost of Anna lets us in, and then the stranger gets inevitably pissed because she's been jumping through all these hoops for nothing?

>>1333260
>>1333266

(The reason there was no auto key on either of the doors was because neither of these doors have keyholes.)

(Do you still want to go to Love's?)

>>1333286
Ok
>>1333399
shure Lets see what it is there.

(You chose to try a different building.)

You look up and raise your hand just a bit, meagerly, and mouth a 'sorry I scared you' to the sky. You turn towards the door and knock back, trying to get a response, but after thirty seconds of on and off banging your fist against the door you don't think that stranger can get to you.

You come back out from the alley, reaching Pine Street, and look to your right. On the right are the three payphones the stranger was trying to knife quarters out of. You see that she dropped one... No, two of the coins on the sidewalk.

You pass the phones and look at Love's. Like the tailoring store the interior is dark, but the big, open glass windows allow you to see a fair amount of the contents. You see boxes... Vases... Some birdcages... A bunch of carved wooden letters... Glassware resting on crocheted blankets... It seems like this is a home decoration store. You peer down and catch sight of a rather well-made vase stained with pink and orange, a dark black line tracing over the splotches to form images of flowers. It's very pretty, and it's on sale for $350.

...That's an expensive vase. You subconsciously back away from the pricey, delicate object despite a thick pane of glass being in your way. It doesn't look like there's anyone in the store, anyway.

There's also a sign in the door: 'We're sorry, we're CLOSED', on black paper scrawled in bright red ink.

You wonder if this store will open at a later time. Is it possible someone runs a business in all of this? Everything seems well taken care of... You're not sure what to make of it.

You are standing in front of Love's. To your right are the payphones, as well as Anna's Tailoring. The stranger is still inside the tailoring shop.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

(I feel like we're starting to veer in a direction we shouldn't be veering into, so, as stated in earlier posting, I'll 'god mode' us a little bit by giving you a hint. Otherwise we're just going to be running in big circles and not getting anywhere.

>>1333201 is the most helpful thing right now. Look at that graphic, it has one of the pieces for what you need to do next.)

>>1333603
Pick up the lose change from the broken payphone, and try calling the obgyn.

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(You chose to use the payphone.)

You walk over to the payphone and bend down, collecting the two quarters. It looks as if that's the one on the far right. These specific phone rates are 25 cents per five minutes.

You search for the one that looks the least damaged and take your wallet from your satchel.

You have two business cards: [Anna's Tailoring] and [Saint George's OBGYN].

You push the [Saint George's OBGYN] up just enough to see the phone number, then take the receiver off of the payphone and balance it between your shoulder and your ear. You insert one of the quarters, hearing it click back into the dented bin, and after a three-tone beep a dial tone fills your ear.

You enter the number on the [Saint George's OBGYN] business card.

It's ringing...

"Thank you for calling Saint George's Women's Clinic and OBGYN. If this is a medical emergency, please hang up and dial 911. Our facilities are currently closed for remodeling. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. We will be open for business..."

...There's a harsh static tone that hurts your ears. You wince a bit and pull away.

"A... St... I... to give you the quality care and attention that you deserve. If you are a patient of doctor Meyers, please report to the Clinic next door during your designated appointment time. To reschedule your appointment, please press 1. To speak to a nurse, press 2. For billing information, press 3."

Before you even have the idea to press one of the keys, the phone cuts off with a click. There is no more dial tone, no beeping, nothing. Just silence and a cold, metal phone pressing against your ear.

...You were sent to an automated message, it seems. The voice giving you the message was warm and welcoming, but you couldn't tell if it was male or female.

You have one quarter left after your call.

A. Make another call (specify).

B. Hang up the phone and do something else (specify).

>>1333749
>A. Make another call (specify).
Anna's Tailoring. Tell stranger it's time to scout out a different building

(You chose to make another call.)

You hang up, wait a few seconds, and then lift the receiver in an attempt to reset the tone. You take your last quarter and insert it into the payphone. You hear the same beeping and then the dial tone from before. It seems to be working, still. You're not sure why it would have cut off before.

You punch in the number from the [Anna's Tailoring] business card.

It's ringing...

The dial tone stops abruptly, and for a moment the only thing you hear is quiet static and a slight hum. It's like someone is holding their phone to the radio, and the noise is being transferred into your ear.

A chill runs down your spine and you shudder from the eerie feeling. Seconds pass and the static echoes into your ear at increasing levels of volume. It's almost offensive now, and you stare down at the hissing speaker of the receiver with a look of discomfort and confusion.

"I opened it for you."

It's little more than a whisper, but you heard it clearer than the white noise. The high-pitched hissing of a human voice coming out clear as it could possibly be. It is unfamiliar, but there is no mistaking it. You actually look around to see if anyone was nearby and teasing you. No... It definitely came from the phone.

You hear a click. The other line has hung up. Slowly and with an excessive amount of tension your arm stiffly puts the phone back on its hook. You move more normally after it has been hung up, folding your wallet and putting it back in your satchel.

You manage to get a glimpse at the tailoring shop's front door. It's wide open.

You can taste the saltiness of adrenaline filling your mouth. The open door doesn't worry you so much as the thought of a person unknown being aware of your situation... And being close enough to do something about it.

You begin to calm down as you think that it's a possibility the stranger was screwing with you. It irritates you to think that might have been what happened.

You are standing in front of the payphones with no more quarters to make a call with. The front door to Anna's Tailoring is now wide open.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

>>1333827
Well shit, I'm spooked now.
Need to check on stranger.
Enter the danger.

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(You chose to go into Anna's Tailoring.)

(Replies may be a little slow-ish, getting something ready for you all and making sure it's going to work.)

You pack up your wallet and hold your shotgun at the ready. You walk slowly to the open door, putting pressure on the balls of your feet should you need to make a quick getaway.

You look through the open window first, and see nothing you haven't already checked. Hugging the brick wall of the building with your left side, you creep up inch by inch before hesitantly peering around the corner.

...You're underwhelmed.

Inside, apart from the dressed mannequins you saw earlier... Isn't much else. There's a rack of discount dresses holding several rather dumpy looking garments, a desk... And what appears to be a phone. There are a few paint chips from the wall on the floor, and a hanger laying here and there... But apart from that, there's just nothing else. It's almost as if the store was out of business. The light from outside doesn't do much to illuminate the dark, bleak interior... Nor elevate the mood.

In fact, that's the exact impression that you get from this mess.

A rustling noise in the back makes you jump, and you point the shotgun towards the door-less opening. There's some banging, followed by some cursing, and you see the stranger literally fall through the doorway and hit the ground.

"Ow." The dry exclamation proclaims itself through the empty room. You walk around the mess in the building to check on her status.

Well, if nothing else she seems to have found a 'shirt'. It's really just a very tiny dress meant for someone much shorter and much more filled out than she is. Still, you get the impression that this was the best she could do.

"No, I don't need any help, just stand there like a teenager who just saw his first pair of tits." The stranger groans, picking herself up off the carpet and brushing off her arms. "I see you got the door unlocked..." She points up and you follow her finger to the ceiling. "See those lights? They work, there's just an issue with the fuse box. I'm working on that." Indeed, there are several florescent tubes that don't appear to be in bad condition. You look back to the stranger, who has her hands on her hips like she's just accomplished something great. You feel as though she has more to tell you.

(1/2)

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>>1333994

"Come here." She waves you over to behind the counter. It's completely bare, save for a black phone with a blinking red light. "The phone's not hooked up to a line, but it is plugged in. That's how I know there's electricity." She taps the side of her head.

You think that's a rather good assumption for someone whose brain is probably smothered in cigarette smoke 24/7.

"There's a voicemail." The stranger hovers her finger over what you assume is a 'play' button.

A. "Press it."

B. ...You want to be the one to push the button...

(2/2)

>>1334011
>A. "Press it."
Incase it explodes.

>>1334011
>>1334037
Not a very friendly thing to do to throw the stranger under the bus like that. Why not push the button with a stick or a disposable object we have nearby?
>Offer to push the button with a disposable object in case it's booby trapped.
>Tell the stranger a friend helped us out earlier before leaving again.
>>1333994
>(Replies may be a little slow-ish, getting something ready for you all and making sure it's going to work.)
>getting something ready
Should we be worried, QM? We're already delving into the spooky building.

I recently finished catching up with the archives so now I know what the stranger's deal is.

(You chose to have the stranger push the button.)

"Push it with something in case it's rigged. Is there a broom?" You look around the room, thinking that a coat hanger might do the trick.

You hear a muttered, sarcastic, "Jesus." from the stranger, the word croaked out. Without waiting for you to get a single word in, she pushes the button on her own.

A single beep echoes in the room, followed by the message:

"Anna, it's Delilah. That woman came by again today, the one with the bad wedding dress designs. She's still asking about a job, so I just told her to ask you. She's very quite and polite, and she's absolutely gorgeous, but... There's just something about her I don't like. I don't know what it is, but it's weird... I wouldn't hire her, but that's up to you."

The voice is very expressive, and you get that it belongs to someone who is very socially outgoing. You and the stranger exchange glances before staring back at the machine.

"Anyway, those girls came in again wanting -more- changes to their dresses. Seven spoiled bitches-- Oops... Sorry, I forgot you don't like that word."

The stranger laughs once, loudly, before slapping her hand over her mouth.

"They all came at once, though, and they wanted so much modified... They didn't have any problem swiping their fathers' credit cards, though, so we did get paid. I stayed late and made all of the changes, but I forgot to pin their name tags on."

You look up, and see the mannequins that you could view from the window. Sure enough, there are seven.

"I took the notes of who wanted what, and I hope that helps. I'm sorry to do this to you when I'm not going to be in for another week but I was -so- exhausted from the tailoring. Good luck, and I'll see you when I get back."

The message clicks, and the red light stops blinking. You look at the stranger again, her hands on her hips.

"I'm going to get to work on the fuse box, again. If you're going to come in the back, I would be -very- careful. There's shit everywhere." She holds out her thin arms to emphasize her point. "Holler at me when you see light." With that, she turns and begins to climb her way back into the back room.

You're standing inside of Anna's Tailoring, behind the sales counter. It's very dark, the outside light just barely illuminating the interior.

To your right are the seven mannequins in dresses, the clearance rack of dresses, and a slotted door. Behind you is the back room of the tailoring store, also pitch black. The stranger is currently back there working on trying to get the lights on.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

>>1334478
>Rub her head, say thanks, and take a look at the fuse box.

>>1334478
>It's very dark, the outside light just barely illuminating the interior.
Is it possible to get some more light into the store, or bring a light source besides the lighter inside?
>>1334478
>>1334501
>Tell the stranger a friend helped us out earlier before leaving again, and that she might be related to one of the girls from the call.

>>1334602
(The stranger is trying to get more light into the room by fixing the fuse box, but other than that you haven't seen anything that could bring light into the interior.

If you want to just talk to the stranger you can do so from the doorway, she is in earshot. But if you want to go to the stranger it's going to be a struggle in the dark.)

>>1334644
>Ask the stranger if she needs us to come over to help.
>If yes, come over, if not provide help from the doorway and continue investigating the area for more stuff.
>Mention ghost lady in between either route.

>>1334644
>try to get closer, also want to give the head pats.

>>1334644
>>1334723
Certainly, but if she doesn't want us to then we can do it once she finishes her forays into fuse box fixing. Come to think of it, who would be better at fixing the fuse box: her or us?

>>1334763
(If you try to recall any knowledge you have about fixing fuse boxes or wiring you won't find an inkling. If it was even a part of your memory in the first place it's one of the things that have been wiped clean.)

(You chose to pay some attention to the stranger.)

"Do you need help?" You ask, looking through the doorway. You notice that in the pitch blackness of the room there is a tiny white light towards the far wall. It's shining down, revealing a panel of switches as well as the outline of the stranger's head. It takes you a moment to realize that this light is directly connected to the fuse box so someone could work on it in the dark. It's a clever addition.

"No, wiring is one of the few things I'm good at." She says, her tone flat and one-noted. You see movement from what you think are her hands, working some of the switches before pulling back a metal plate. You then see a rather tangled looking mess of various shades, each wire overlapping another in some way.

"There was a woman outside." You suddenly blurt out. You take a moment to collect yourself, and you realize that the memory of your healer has left you rather rattled. Someone faceless, someone that you've never seen before, someone who peaked your instinctual resistance and set off every red flag your body had took complete care of you. It goes beyond your comprehension.

"Was she hot?" You hear after a moment of your own thoughts.

"She didn't have a face." You mumble.

You see a spark as the stranger pulls back, then closes the panel and flicks a switch. Nothing changes. She opens the panel again and begins to re-wire the set up.

"That's gross. They gotta have a face, even if they're missing something else."

You're not sure how to feel about this.

A. You're annoyed. You don't think this smoked-out druggie has any right to criticize someone like this, and you're finding it impossible not to tell her this.

B. You agree with her. Hey, having face value is important.

C. You're indifferent. Even if you had an opinion about her 'requirement', you'd probably keep it to yourself anyway.

>>1335139
>C. You're indifferent. Even if you had an opinion about her 'requirement', you'd probably keep it to yourself anyway.
>Less so she didn't have a face and more so we didn't get either a clear enough look, or she possibly was covering it up with something else. (Something like selective ghost apparitions)
>Still, she seemed to be a friend of ours so I'd rather you not disrespect her image or lack thereof.

>>1335139
>C. You're indifferent. Even if you had an opinion about her 'requirement', you'd probably keep it to yourself anyway.
Ghosts tend not to need them anyway.

(You chose to be silent, and appear indifferent.)

You hold your tongue, pursing your bottom lip. You don't necessarily approve of how this stranger is speaking about someone who helped you, but your feelings aren't strong enough one way or the other to cause a commotion over it.

"I just didn't see it. But she helped me."

"Oh really?" The question is flippant and disinterested.

"Yes. If you see someone like that, don't shoot. She might help you." You sigh, your tone clear of your dismissal.

The stranger hooks the plate back in place and flips the switches. For a brief moment, there is light. A very hopeful 'Ah!' comes from the stranger, and even your hopes are lifted... But the light is out as quickly as it came in.

"Damn it." The stranger opens the plate again and looks over her work. "This might actually take a while." You hear her rustling around for a bit before she shouts, "Heads up!"

You jump back as an unmarked object comes flying in your direction. You watch as it bounces on the floor, and realize that she has chucked her lighter at you. "I want that back." Her voice becomes stern. "I don't have too many more of those laying around. See if there's anything you can light until I get this worked out."

You pick up the lighter, flicking it several times and watching as a small flame holds its flickering position. It's rather nice, to see something like this in such a dark hovel.

You now have a [White Lighter]. You have (7/8) storage spaces left.

You're standing inside of the dark tailoring shop with your lighter. The stranger is still working out the wires behind the fuse box so the florescent lights will turn on.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

>>1336228
>See if there's anything you can light until I get this worked out.
Follow her request.
>Commence investigations into the darker parts of the building that was too difficult to search before.

(You chose to investigate the dark building further.)

You hit the lighter and hold it at a safe distance from you before moving around the room. Your feet are very thankful that they're on carpet, although you are mindful of any stray, sharp objects that might be embedded into the carpet.

The building is still very empty, regardless of the amount of light inside of it. You wonder if this place has been out of business, and if so then for how long.

You walk by the discounted dresses first, lifting up a rather revealing black dress. You don't even think you could fit your arm through the waist of this. It seems tailored for a child. The fabric is incredibly uncomfortable, as well. The others aren't much different, awkward designs and mismatched fabric no doubt the reason these rejected garments hung on the discount rack of shame.

You smile a little bit as that description weasels itself into your head. The lighter flickers and the flame begins to decrease a bit. You strike the lighter with your thumb and restore the flame to its original, reassuring size.

You look over at the mannequins, and see that dresses hang from all seven. They're all of varying sizes and styles, some bright and some dull... Some flirty, some classy, some romantic and some sexy. You have little doubt that these are the dresses mentioned in the voicemail, but you wonder why they're here. Have the customers not come to pick them up, yet? Or were they never going to come in the first place?

You look over the colorful dresses and a cold, unforgiving thought crosses your head. Some of these shops are completely blacked out, and trash has littered sections of the town to where it would constitute neglect. Yet, other places like the store next door to this one and the park dedicated to the town's patron saint seem to be in perfect condition, although abandoned and void of life.

You bite your lower lip and think about the stranger in the back. You flash through her personality, her flitting from one attitude to the next, the inconsistencies and unreliable aspects of her mood... It's almost like she's disoriented. She said that there were car pileups outside of the town, and you recall seeing the ravines plunging down into the belly of the earth, filled with a bubbling sludge of black bile.

Your flame starts to flicker, the shadows of the mannequins dancing on the walls and your mind begins to race. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as the glow begins to slowly diminish, the shadows rising on the walls.

(Please roll a 1d20.)

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1336365
Don't panic.

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1336365
>1d20
ROLL FOR PARANOIA!

>>1336371
1
PANICKED
Lost lighter.

>>1336371
>Don't panic.
>>1336372
Oh shit.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>1336365

>>1336373
>PANICKED
>Lost lighter.
And we just got this, too!

File: lightershades.png (258KB, 700x550px) Image search: [Google]

258KB, 700x550px

>>1336375

(Taking 9 as the highest number. +3 discipline modifier, 12 results.)

You let out a shaky breath, clearing your throat and blinking your eyes in a slightly desperate attempt to calm yourself. It works to some degree. You're not shaking as you worried that you might, your hands are steady and dry of sweat, but your mind still races.

You wonder if something didn't happen to you, but happened to this town. Something that would have sent nearly all if not the entire population away, something that pinpointed areas of destruction and swept through like a plague across this entire area.

You slow your thoughts for a moment and think rationally. What could have done something like this? Perhaps there was a gas leak, or a fire that drove everyone away, and you and this stranger just happened to be the stragglers. But if that was the case, then surely some kind of authority figure would be here. The police, a clean up crew, a fire brigade... You've seen none of those things.

You jump as your mind echoes a memory. You can hear the shatter of the bookstore glass from earlier as if it had just happened. Something acidic coats your tongue, your face beginning to heat up.

You notice the shadows are growing on the wall, distorting in their length and consistency... And the room seems... Warmer. Much warmer. It's getting quite hot in here.

(You are beginning to show signs of going mad. Madness is directly countered by your discipline.

Please roll a 1d20.)

>>1333192
(Also, this is the wrong graphic. I just noticed.

OFFICIAL CURRENT STATS:

Discipline: +3

Intimidation: +0

Vanity: +0

These will last until affected, of course.)

Rolled 7 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>1336495

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1336493
>You are beginning to show signs of going mad.
Oh no, our SANITY meter is going down!

>>1336493
>>1336495
>>1336497
Should we of also applied the +3 dice modifier to the roll?

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>1336493
But wouldn't the insane have an edge against the creatures?

>>1336501
(It doesn't really matter, I can see what you rolled because of 4chan's format so whatever you feel comfortable with. Rolling a 1d20 on it's own is completely fine, or if you want to include the +3 I can see it broken down and figure it from there. It's the base number that needs to be the highest before the modifier is implied.)

>>1336499

(Taking 13 as the highest number. +3 discipline modifier, 16 results.)

You slow your breath and feel a bit calmer than before.

Whatever happened to this town has passed. It is in the past. You don't have to deal with it right now, you have to deal with the present. The monsters, this stranger, the empty town... You haven't felt any weaker or sicker since you woke up here. Hell, you haven't even felt hungry or tired. And because of the specter that seemed to heal you with just her touch, your health is in perfect condition.

You remember what it was like to smell the stench of those monsters and their blood. Offensive doesn't even begin to describe it. Black as tar and strong as sin, covering the ground, your feet, staining your clothes... You shiver, almost hearing it trickle down your skin and pool at the bottom of your soles.

You don't want to remember it anymore. You refuse to remember it anymore.

Your lighter flickers, and you see the shadows of the mannequins shrug. The mannequins themselves are immobile, dressed in clean, soft gowns.

It's... Comforting to see that little piece of human luxury.

(You seem to be shrugging away the signs of madness you showed earlier. Madness is directly countered by your discipline.

Please roll a 1d20.)

Rolled 13 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>1336555
>1d20 + 3
Regain control.

Rolled 20 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>1336555

>>1336589
Wew lad, looks like MC is back in the game!

>>1336517
>But wouldn't the insane have an edge against the creatures?
Probably not against attacking nothingness and accidentally injuring ourselves in the process, though.
This looks like we're trying to avoid hallucinating and start wrecking shit by accident.

File: quite dapper.png (469KB, 950x1100px) Image search: [Google]

469KB, 950x1100px

>>1336589

(Taking 20 as the highest. "Crit" achieved. You are no longer going mad.)

An image of the monster wearing a top hat, flower, and carrying a cane enters your mind. You imagine the creature shaking his fingers as one would in reference to making "jazz hands".

You laugh.

Your body has instinctively given you something to mentally process that would wipe the creeping uncertainty out of your psychological state. You finish with a quiet chuckle, imagining it's beak-ish maw flapping in time to scat music. It's probably the funniest thing you've thought of since you regained consciousness.

You do open your eyes to a surprise, however. The lights are on. The stranger seems to have gotten the wiring figured out. The light isn't offensive, but it's enough to clearly show off the interior.

The shadows cast by the mannequins are gone.

You turn your head towards the doorway and see mounds of trash bags obscuring the way into the back room. The stranger stumbles over them, holding the frame with sturdy hands and... Singed fingers...

Well. She's alive, no matter how she got the lights on.

The stranger wiggles her foot, a blue piece of tissue paper falling off of it. She pulls down on the dress-shirt she wears, the pleated waistline swaying with each of her steps. The stranger connects her eyes with yours, and there is a period of silence between you two that... Is odd.

She straightens her back a bit, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. Her smile turns quizzical, as if she's seeing something she can't believe. She takes slow steps towards you.

"What did you do?"

It's a very straightforward question, but not one you're sure you understand. It sounds as if she caught you doing something inappropriate and is teasing you for it. But you haven't done anything like that.

You should probably respond.

A. "Do what? Weren't you the one who got the lights fixed?"

B. "I have no explanation for what just happened." Without going into explanation.

C. Describe everything you've seen down to the last detail frantically.

D. Other (specify)

>>1336680
>A. "Do what? Weren't you the one who got the lights fixed?"

And that image is quite mad my friend.

>>1336680
It must sing
Puttin on the Ritz

>>1336680
>A. "Do what? Weren't you the one who got the lights fixed?"
>C/D. Describe everything you've seen, try to find the reasonable equivalents for whatever happened.
>>1336680
>An image of the monster wearing a top hat, flower, and carrying a cane enters your mind. You imagine the creature shaking his fingers as one would in reference to making "jazz hands".
"Hello my baby, hello my darling, hello my ragtime gal..."

File: lights on.png (404KB, 1000x777px) Image search: [Google]

404KB, 1000x777px

(You chose to ask, ""Do what? Weren't you the one who got the lights fixed?"

Remember, all, we are running on popular vote. Apologies for delay, we're back now.)

"Do what?" You ask, the stranger walking towards you with an undeserved wobble of arrogance. "Weren't you the one who got the lights fixed?"

She stops and folds her arms loosely. You wonder if it hurts her to press the straw-line limbs against each other, but you couldn't imagine that's true.

"Of course I did." She nods, and looks at you expectantly. You're honestly not sure what more she wants, but she's looking for something else. You two share one of your regular moments of silence. "...Well, I guess it doesn't matter now that we can see. Look at this place. Someone got the hell out of here in a hurry, didn't they?"

"But..." You point your finger around the ransacked room.

"Oh, no, these aren't the scraps." The stranger shoves her arm into the direction of the storage room. "The trash bags in there have dresses, high heels, accessories, clutches... Everything a teenage girl could want for her big, glamorous night of drunk vomit and morning after pills." The stranger turns back to you. "It's really bad in there, though, there's barely any room left." You haven't so much as touched one of the bags, but if that's really the case then... Why? Just why? Why would a tailoring shop owner do that to their product and then leave it behind?

You realize you're still holding her lighter, with your thumb pressed harshly against the striker. You try to strike it again automatically, and it doesn't light. You shake it and feel no pressure inside. It looks like the lighter burned out.

The stranger watches this display, her annoyance evident on her face. "Okay. Let's get you what you need and get the hell out of here." She shuffles back to the back room once more, stepping over the mountains of black, dress-filled plastic bags.

The stranger knows you need thread to repair your bag, and the back room is probably the most likely place to look for something like that.

You're standing by the mannequins, still, the dresses looking even more feminine and lovely in the proper lighting. You turn your head a bit further left and see that there's a small lift in the floor surrounded by mirrors. This must be where dresses are viewed from all angles, right? It certainly looks like it was built to do just that.

You notice that there's something taped to one of the mirrors. It looks like a sheet of paper, and slapped on the top left corner is a bright pink post-it with dark, thick writing on it. From this distance you can't make it out, but you wouldn't have any problems reading it from a closer angle.

Also, you notice that behind the dresses is a door with several slated sets. Is it a changing room?

You're standing inside Anna's Tailoring, facing the mannequins on the left.

A. Go investigate the paper on the mirror.

B. Check out the slated door.

C. Check on the stranger.

D. Other (specify).

>>1337237
>Compliment her on a job well done, and maybe finally offer her headpats.

>>1337237
>Compliment her on a job well done, but no headpats, she just might bite.
then
A. Go investigate the paper on the mirror.

>>1337309
>>1337351

(If you want to try to give her a 'physical congratulations', it would be a vanity roll. Your modifier is currently +0. Yay, or nay?)

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1337479

>>1337237
>>1337351
2nded. We'll offer her headpats once we're sure of her mental stability. Also, last time we got near her face we flicked her cigarette so he might still be pissed about that.
>>1337479
Yay, congratulations on a job well done. Probably offering a thumbs-up or handshake would be more appropriate for now.
What happens if we increase our vanity? Do we become more egotistical?

>>1337237
>Remember, all, we are running on popular vote. Apologies for delay, we're back now.)
That's fine, I just voted for what I thought was best and waiting for more votes is fine.

>>1337587
Or we think this song is about us?
Thumbs up. 12 is not a good enough roll, even if I rolled it.

>>1337587

(In terms of a bigger picture it's still being worked on. However, in the case of a moderate social interaction like this, vanity might increase your confidence for a gesture to be more successful. If you maintain high vanity throughout the game, you may come to see yourself in a better light, should you succeed at things, or you may be completely blind to your faults.

A verbal acknowledgement of success is a common thing that happens between humans. However, a physical connection with someone whose mentality is unknown and whose name you don't even know... That won't come as easy.

I'm still trying to work out the kinks in the positive and negative levels for your emotional stats. I don't expect it to take too long to iron out, though.)

(You chose to acknowledge the stranger's accomplishments.)

"Thank you for getting the lights. Good job." You raise your voice a little bit, wanting to make sure that she heard you.

A noise sans diction or even language pipes up, little more than a grunt. You know she heard you, but you're not sure if she cared. You look down at the [White Lighter], completely depleted and utterly useless. She might want a cigarette, and can't have one.

If you ever had an addiction, you can't remember it. Perhaps that's why you don't fully understand how this stranger behaves.

She seems to still be rummaging through the drawers, looking for supplies. At least she's kept those wits about her.

You don't think you'll get much more socialization out of her than that. You turn back to the room.

A. Go investigate the paper on the mirror.

B. Check out the slated door.

C. Other (specify).

>>1338356
>Mirror paper

>>1337600
>Or we think this song is about us?
What song? I don't remember being there a song.
>>1338797
2nded.
The paper probably has more relevant info than the door anyways from the former occupants.

File: papersonthemirror.png (138KB, 800x1150px) Image search: [Google]

138KB, 800x1150px

>>1338806
(You're so vain is a song, it goes: "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you.")

(You chose to go to the mirror with the paper taped to it.)

You walk towards the display set up, reaching for the paper shoved into one of the frame corners. It pulls out with relative ease, and you examine it.

There's a pink post-it note in the top left that reads: 'All Altercations Completed!' There's nothing on the back of this post-it. The bottom right also has a small group of the sticky papers, seven of them with a different name written on each. You peel them aside to read the sheet, but you do not remove them.

The sheet has a few notes written on it, and you find a small paragraph that seems to explain what's going on. The handwriting is scrawled, and not neat at all. It's like someone who didn't know how to write in cursive tried to write in script.

You can make it out after a little while of staring, though.

"Anne,

I assume that you got my voicemail. These are the notes of what each girl wanted, and I wrote their names on the post-its. You're a very smart woman, so I'm sure you will have no trouble assigning each dress a name."

You recall the voicemail, and the part about the girls that wanted the dresses. These seem to be the notes about the alterations... As well as some comments over other things that the girls said, which you find a bit weird but disregard.

According to the woman who left the voicemail, the sheet of paper you're holding contains the alterations the girls desired before the final designs, and the mannequins themselves are actually wearing the final, alteration-applied designs.

Seven named post-its, seven dresses, along with the instructions and details of what the girls wanted their gowns to look like and their opinions... It seems pretty straightforward.

(Do you want to start the dress puzzle now?)

A. Start the puzzle.

B. Continue on to something else in the room (specify).

>>1338885
>B. Continue on to something else in the room (specify).
>B. Check out the slated door.
More info before we check out the rest of the puzzle. The stranger might find something else we can use in the meantime, too.

>>1338885
>B. Continue on to something else in the room (specify).
>B. Check out the slated door.

File: slateddoor.png (99KB, 800x600px) Image search: [Google]

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(You chose to check out the slated door.)

You place the papers down on the carpet for the time being,

Making sure not to knock anything over, you slide past the mannequins and look at the slated door. There are six slots, each leading into what seems to be a poorly lit room. You try to bend a little bit to see inside, but you can't get even a tiny glimpse of what could be in there. It makes sense for this to be a dressing room.

You notice that there's a small groove on the right hand of the door, normally where a knob would be. You hook your fore and middle fingers into the slot and jiggle it just a bit to see if opening it is possible.

It gives a little bit, but it stays shut. You would say that it's locked, but how do you lock this kind of door?

You're standing in front of the slated door to the dressing room. To your right, the stranger is still rummaging about in the back room. You know that you just set down a sheet about the dresses on the mannequins, as well.

(Please specify what you would like to do.)

Let's fold and organize the bags of clothes.

That should help us find some nicer clothes.

I imagine sorting them by size and type.

>>1339379
>>1339647
Sure, this works. I don't really have any better ideas at the moment. This reminds me:
>Look for some new threads to fix our clothes and bag.

>>1339664
>>1339647

(It's not like one or two bags, the entire floor of this room is covered in garbage bags filled with clothes. >>1336680 That's why the stranger went in there to look for supplies, because she's a fraction of your size. If you really wanted to fold and organize dozens of these bags, you would only be able to start at the front of the room and work your way into it. It would take hours and you're probably not going to find anything but dresses and high heels.)

>>1339929
Lets get on with the puzzle then.
Maby if we finish the puzzle, the apparition will open the dressing room.

File: dresses.png (302KB, 1150x618px) Image search: [Google]

302KB, 1150x618px

(You chose to go to the dresses.)

You make your way back to the mannequins, picking up the paper from the floor.

You pick at the seven name tags from the bottom.

Elise, Katie, Lily, Madison, Mary, Rachel, and Sarah.

They seem to be in alphabetical order. You space them out on the back of the sheet of paper so they will be easier to take off and look at the instructions and comments written on the sheet. Much like the last time it takes you a moment to comprehend the sloppy writing, but you're able to figure it out.

"ADJUSTMENTS:

Elise wanted all accessories removed from her dress so it would just be a solid, primary color.

Mary wanted her hemline extended by an extra five inches.

Both Mary and Elise thought Rachel's dress was way too short.

Sarah decided to get rid of the fabric flowers on the waist and have a belt tailored on.

Lily wanted to change the angle of her hemline.

Madison thought her dress was too bulky and wanted it hemmed to be thigh-length.

Katie thought the dresses with pleats and sequins were ugly.

Madison, Sarah, and Mary are the only girls who wanted accessories with their dresses."

You are looking at the dresses head on.

You have no name tags on any of the mannequins.

(On to the puzzle. This one has infinite tries and an infinite time limit. Take all the time you need.

Much like the puzzle before, guesses should be made left to right. So, for example, if you think the grey dress is Elise's, the pink is Katie's, the yellow is Lily's (etc...) Your post would look like
Elise Katie Lily … (etc...)

It is also acceptable to put the color and the name together. In the same context, grey: Elise, pink: Katie, yellow: Lily... On and on. Just make sure to indicate that you are making a guess and not just discussing it with someone else. The latter being 100% acceptable, of course.

Unlike the first puzzle quest we had, where the figurines locked into the correct place as individuals, this puzzle will not give its reward until you've gotten it 100% correct. Now, if you feel confident that you know what the answer is for one you can absolutely leave the tag on. You don't have to take it off, put it on another, take it off... That's silly.

One last thing: The slated door is behind these mannequins, however, I didn't include it in the drawing so the focus would be on the dresses and not what's going on in the back.)

>>1340222
(And I forgot my handle.

Good thing IDs exist.)

>>1340228
Sarah: Grey
Madison: Pink
Elise: Yellow
Rachel: Red
Lily: Green
Mary: Blue
Katie: Purple

>>1340222
Madison, Rachel, Katie, Sarah, Lily, Mary, Elise
My brain hurts now.

>>1340279
Any objections?

>>1340222
>>1340367
I don't really know what I'm looking at because I'm not really into fashion so I'm still taking a bit to figure it out.
I'm guessing those accessories are the external additions like the necklaces on the mannequins?
Let's see:
Mary: Blue
Longest one of the dresses with the accessories.
Sarah: Grey
Obviously the one with a belt.
Madison: Pink
Mostly process of elimination for this one. I wouldn't know by looking at it. It fits the thigh-length description.
Lily: Green
That looks angled alright.
Elise: Yellow
One of the longest dresses and very much a solid color.
Katie: Purple
Has no pleats and sequins, process of elimination.
Rachel: Red
Process of elimination, also the shortest by barely a few inches.

>>1340458
Well, less an external addition and anything that isn't on the dress by default, I'd suppose.

>>1340246
>>1340367
I'm going to stick with mine.

>>1340222
>>1340458
>>1340246
>>1340471
Yeah, I'm sticking to mine too. I don't see anything else besides this that'd work.
We both ended up with the same choices from the looks of it, so I suppose that's that.

>>1340246
>>1340458

(You chose to align the notes as:

Sarah, Madison, Elise, Rachel, Lily, Mary, Katie)

You follow the notes, sticking each name onto the mannequins respectively. When you've finished with the last post-it, making sure it's securely on, you notice that the lights dim just a bit. You look up at the florescent lights, furrowing your brow slightly.

You hear a small 'click' coming from the changing room door. The appearance is unchanged, but you can tell that something is different. Very quietly you walk forward to the door and hook your fingers against the opening groove. There's no sound when you do.

You find that you are able to open the door, now.

A. Open the door.

B. Don't open it.

(Late replies because still rather sick. Things might be a little spotty for a couple of days, but I'll do my best to be consistent.)

>>1340818
Hope you feel better.
and
A. Open the door.

>>1340818
>(Late replies because still rather sick. Things might be a little spotty for a couple of days, but I'll do my best to be consistent.)
Get well soon, QM.
>>1340818
>A. Open the door.
Potential loot is always good!

File: slateddoorcontents.png (250KB, 800x600px) Image search: [Google]

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(You chose to open the door.)

You slide back the door, and as you do you notice that the slates fold in on themselves when pushed into the wall. It's an interesting contraption, and it seems like it's designed for privacy and security.

Like the rest of the store, the interior of the changing room is covered in carpet. There seems to be very little than just wayward accessories. Cheap earrings, boring bracelets... Although, one thing stands out to you in particular.

Towards the front of the changing room is a black, velvet hand used to display and store rings. The only band it holds is a thick, silver and blue band wrapped around its thumb. It seems to have a very enticing essence around it... It's in good condition, the jewel isn't scraped or scratched, and there's even a logo emblazoned on the inside. An olive branch inside of a circle... You know this logo. This is the same logo that's on one of the business cards you have-- The OBGYN card.

You start to put two and two together, and realize that the olive branch inside of the circle must be the symbol of Saint George.

You take the ring. [Class Ring] has been added to your quest inventory.

You also notice that there are some quarters in the back. You recall how you needed quarters to operate the payphone outside, and thinking that it wouldn't be a bad idea to scoop these up for yourself. You pocket three quarters, and find that they don't take up much room in your jacket.

The last thing you deem noteworthy is a silver key. You pick it up and turn it over in your fingers. There's the inscription 'Leewell Grocery' on the opposite side. Aside from the text, it's just an ordinary key. The [Leewell Grocery Key] has been added to your key ring.

You look up to make sure there's nothing above you... Your run-in with the monster out back made you very wary of that... But aside from these three things, you don't see anything that stands out or that could be of use to you. You stand up and walk back from the door, making sure all of your newly acquired items are secure.

A loud, raspy scream bursts out, jolting you and your eyes wide open. You notice that the stranger has again fallen out of the doorway, her hands clenched and held high as her spider-like legs fly into the air. You can hear the audible sound of her skull hitting the carpeted floor and you wince. You start to approach her to see if she needs any help, but the stranger turns herself over and rises to her feet without much of a problem.

"Son of a bitch, if I was responsible for the shit back there I would leave, too." She groans, her knees popping as she picks herself up. "It's just shit, dirty kleenex, old cloth, dusty fucking bras... I would bet every piece of money that I've ever seen that a craggy, sad, lonely old lady lives back there." She looks over her hands and begins to walk towards you.

(1/2)

File: physical sheet 4.png (239KB, 1120x1000px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1341648
"I found you something." She says, holding out her right hand. There's a spool of light blue thread with a needle down the middle. "Tried to make it match. And I didn't think you'd want snotty, kleenex-stuck thread anyway." The stranger sneers and shudders, and you think you can see little blonde hairs stand up on her skin. "I'll tell you what, there are some days where I am grateful my nose doesn't work."

Her nose doesn't work? That might be something to go into later. But for now, you push the spool and needle into your jacket pocket. [Blue thread and needle] has been added to your inventory.

"Anyway." The stranger says the word with a breathless sigh. She catches sight of the dresses that you dealt with not long ago, tilting her head and walking slowly over to them. Her fingers trail on the fabric, rolling the silky texture along her fingertips, picking at the threads, lifting the hemlines... She turns to you after dealing these gowns a thorough inspection.

"One of these girls is a virgin, and I can tell you which one." She smirks, seemingly proud of herself. "The dumb animal who ordered this." She reaches for the mannequin marked 'Lily', turning it around for you to see the angled green dress. "Whoever wanted -this- wants to be sexy but has no idea how to do it." You look into the stranger's eyes and notice that there's something... Off. The murky green seems brighter, just like when she was in the bar. "Not that virgins can't be sexy... But whoever decided this was a good idea needs to be thoroughly good and fucked before they're shot and hung."

The amount of blatant sincerity in her words throws you off guard. This isn't a joke, she means every word coming out of her mouth. The stranger lowers her head, eyes still fixated on yours, her gaze completely interlocked with your own. Her hands run down the 'ribs' and waist of the mannequin and grip harshly, pulling the fabric to stretch against the human replica. That serpent-like smile is back, as well, and you notice how fitting it would be for something equally as predatorial. You can hear the popping of fibers from how tightly she's pulling at the revealing dress. Her knuckles have turned white, and her wrists curl with an agonizing slowness.

For a brief minute you wonder if you're in danger.

The worry is cut short by a high-pitched ringing. Both you and the stranger crane your heads up, and turn to see that the phone on the desk is emitting the noise. The little red light that indicated a voicemail is blinking, as well.

It carries on. Each ring seems as though it's growing in volume... Becoming louder, and more urgent. Panicked. Frightened.

The two of you are simply looking at the small device.

A. Pick up the receiver.

B. Have the stranger pick up the receiver.

C. Let it go to voicemail.

(2/2)

(Picture is of your current inventory.)

>>1341676
>A. Pick up the receiver.
Hello city morgue. You stab em, we slab em.

>>1341676
>>1342066
2nded. It's either the morgue or ghost lady calling us. We already know the phone isn't booby trapped so we should be fine.

>>1342201
Well, the OBGYN we called earlier, that is. Mixed that up.

>>1341676
>>1342066
A. Pick up the receiver.
Carl's crematorium. You kill em, we grill em.

>>1341676
Velvet Touch Massage Parlor . . . We never rub you the wrong way.

(You chose to pick up the receiver.)

You turn from the stranger, who has more or less started to feel up the mannequin. It's... Not something you're enjoying being around. You walk around several stray hangers, almost jabbing the side of your foot against one, and as soon as you get close enough to reach out for the phone it stops ringing.

You stare for a bit, your brow furrowing. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, you feel that cold sweat stick to your skin, and there's the familiar spark of adrenaline soaking into your tongue. The red light on the answering machine begins to blink, and the digital display lights up with a '1'. It blinks with the light, begging your attention.

A harsh 'THUD' comes from behind you, and you see that the stranger has either dropped or pushed the mannequin over onto its side. She walks towards the broken window, and the slight lighting from the outside shows off a look of unexpected confusion on her face. She's silent, and you turn back to the phone. Your finger finds the 'play' button, pushing down firmly.

"911, what is your emergency?"

The voice is one you've never heard before.

"Yeah... I'm trying to get to my car and there's this guy out there who is standing right by it."

"Can you give me your name and address, ma'am."

"Lindsey Leewell... I'm at 601 Pine Street, Anna's Tailoring."

"Miss Leewell, can you describe the person who's by your car?"

"He's big, tall..."

You stand quietly through an uneasy pause before the emergency operator pushes further.

"Any facial features or specifics you can tell me about, Miss Leewell?"

"That's... The thing. I can't tell, he's got a bag over his head. He's hunched over and staggering around-- I can't tell if he's high, or drunk, or what."

"Alright, Miss Leewell, please stay on the line with me. I'm sending out a dispatch."

There's another pause, this one longer. You turn around to look at the stranger, who has drawn her knife and is now sticking her head out of the window. She's making it a point to look thoroughly at whatever she's focused on, pushing herself out inch by inch until she's standing on her toes.

"...Alright, Miss Leewell, the cops will be there shortly. Can you describe your car to me? Color, make, license plate number, anything."

There's a shuffling noise, and low breathing that turns frantic in just a matter of seconds.

"...He's by the window. He's looking in..."

The woman's voice belongs to the one who left the earlier voicemail, only this time that social brightness and comfortable confidence has been completely stripped. She sounds a fraction of her age, now, voice stunted by the fear of whoever or whatever is tormenting her.

"Miss Leewell, are you still there?"

"Oh, my -God-, he's probably seven feet tall... The bag's still on his head, I can't see anything... He's still there...!"

You can hear her breath catching in her throat as the shuddering voice of someone in fight or flight mode echoes through the shop.

(1/2)

>>1343118

The voice of the operator hardens significantly.

"Miss Leewell, I need you to find a safe place to wait until the police arrive. Turn off any lights that you can, and do your best not to make any noise. Leave the phone if you have to, a team of officers will be there shortly."

You hear a loud clattering from the receiver, followed by terrified, whimpering gasps. There's the rustle of what sounds like fabric before a sharp snap behind you. You whirl around, holding your shotgun with both hands, and see that the dressing room door has snapped shut. The stranger has vanished from her spot, as well.

Not five seconds after this, there's a loud 'POP' and the room falls into darkness. It's a shock to your system, leaving you completely blind from the instant intensity. You blink your eyes and shake your head, doing your best to will your vision to adjust.

The panicked voice breathes heavily through the speaker, the call still continuing. You back up until your back hits the wall, hands firmly grasping the shotgun despite your temporary handicap. You wait, holding your breath, and listen for any noise... Look for any sight of movement...

The door bursts open and the voice coming out of the receiver shrieks with animalistic fear.

(Please roll a 1d20.)

(2/2)

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>1343157
>1d20
I have no idea what's going on, but this sounds spooky.

Rolled 12, 3 = 15 (2d20)

>>1343157
I'm gonna roll 2 dice, the first is for the encounter and the second is for not shitting our pants.

>>1343189
Looks like we lost control of our bowels.

>>1343189
>>1343198
We were never in control of if it to begin with.

>>1343200
Well, it's a good defense mechanism anyway. What wants to eat/fight something that smells like shit.

>>1343207
>Well, it's a good defense mechanism anyway.
Indeed, it is.
>What wants to eat/fight something that smells like shit.
Monsters with a fetish for that.

File: thesevenfootman.png (1MB, 800x1200px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1343189

(Taking 12 as the highest roll, +3 discipline modifier, 15 results.)

>>1343198
>>1343200
(You'd find that even if you were shocked into defecation there's nothing in your entire system that could be released.)

Your finger almost squeezes the trigger on instinct, but you restrain yourself from firing at the sudden noise. In the space of the light comes the illuminated back of the stranger. You're unable to make out any details, but you only know one person with a frame that thin.

"Get out here, you need to check this out."

She motions you, leaving the door open. You look down at the phone and see that the device is without light or signal to indicate any further interaction. The lights out make it nearly impossible to see, and you don't know if there's anything else you could possibly do in this building. Faced with no other options, you slowly and quietly move towards the stranger-- The hairs on the back of your neck still persisting to stand on your sweat-slicked skin.

You squint as the light hits your eyes, and it dawns on you that the environment has brightened considerably since you were in it, last. Your vision slowly adjusts, and you see that there's nothing brighter at all. However, there is more fog, as well as a coating of blue lacing the clouds of mist. You feel a chill creep up your spine and over your legs. It must have dropped ten degrees since you were out here, last.

"It wasn't like this the last time we came out." The stranger says, a small cloud of moisture forming as the words leave her mouth. "Shit, it's cold." She whispers, shaking violently for a second, her knife still in her hand. "I thought I saw something, but... I don't know. Just this weird fog."

You turn around, and there's nothing behind you. But that feeling persists, and intensifies. You can feel a fuzz begin to crackle in your head, and your ears pop as if you've immediately changed altitudes. It throws you off guard, and you rest one of your palms against your forehead. Your hand starts to shake, beads of sweat rolling down as your heart beats louder and faster in your chest.

The stranger grabs your arm and points ahead, and for that brief moment all of these sensations cease to be. You follow her finger, squinting your eyes through the mist, and your agitated expression eases into one of disbelief.

In front of you and in the center of the mist is the biggest, broadest humanoid figure you have ever seen. It is undoubtedly male, muscled and bulked to the bordering point of physical perfection and things that simply should not be. Its skin is grey and blue, appearing mottled even through the fog, and veins course through from its hands to its elbows.

(1/2)

>>1343456
>(You'd find that even if you were shocked into defecation there's nothing in your entire system that could be released.)
We've been scared shitless. It has disappeared from our body and into oblivion.

>>1343456

Then you see the bag, and a rope tied around its neck. You think to the human being terrified on the phone, and her description. This thing was seven foot tall at the minimum, shuffling along as its body jolts from the movement. Even at this distance you think you can see the bag shift its consistency by where there should be a mouth. It is breathing, hard.

Still... Even though it's moving, it doesn't seem to be moving towards you. You'd venture to guess whatever this is hasn't seen you yet.

The stranger leans towards your ear, speaking quietly. "I'm pretty sure that neck is bigger than my waist." She mutters. Your eyes shift to her and you see that her flippant demeanor has been exchanged for something more alert.

You're standing in the middle of the street, facing south on Pine Street. This... Thing is advancing-- staggering-- towards you very slowly, but doesn't seem to have noticed you yet.

A. Leave immediately.

B. Approach diplomatically.

C. Attempt to attack it.

(2/2)

(Poop, the edit didn't save. It looks foggier, but that picture will have to do, I suppose.)

>>1343484
>A. Leave immediately.
There is a back door, lets use it.

>>1343484
>>1343501
2nded. It looks infected with something, let's not get infected with that thing.
The girl was also screaming on the phone earlier, so it's probably hostile.
Try delaying it with whatever we can while we can while we leave, like locking the doors behind us and leading it into a trap with a bookshelf or mannequins. Once we've got more room to maneuver, then we can fight it and try rescuing the other girl if she's still alive.

>>1343484
>B. Approach diplomatically.
Is that even a viable option with something that looks infected like that?
>>1343456
>In front of you and in the center of the mist is the biggest, broadest humanoid figure you have ever seen. It is undoubtedly male, muscled and bulked to the bordering point of physical perfection and things that simply should not be. Its skin is grey and blue, appearing mottled even through the fog, and veins course through from its hands to its elbows.
This could actually be the man from the Wanted Poster, and that might be why the ghosts wanted it earlier.

>>1343501
>>1343519

(So, you guys are going to try to leave by going through the tailor shop, correct?)

>>1343591
Asking that makes me worried, but yes.

>>1343591
>>1343595
Indeed. I feel much more reluctant about my decision, but this doesn't sound something like we should immediately fuck with. Diplomacy doesn't sound good either unless we can confirm on whether Leewell was killed or not by the brute.

>>1343595
>>1343616

(Just making sure so I know what to type.)

(You chose to leave immediately.)

You back away slowly towards the tailor shop, not moving your eyes away from the... Whatever it is. You move your hand over the handle and open the door, looking down at the stranger who doesn't seem to be moving. She simply stares at the mass of this humanoid.

You then watch with wide eyes as she bolts in the opposite direction, becoming little more than a blur taking down the street. You shake your head-- She's a grown woman, she can do what she wants. You force the door shut behind you, and as the click of the latch finds the crevice of the lock, you hear a very muffled, low whine echo through the streets. You close your eyes and purse your lips as the realization seeps into you.

You are being chased.

(Incoming Rules next post)

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>>1343719

(A chase works differently than the rest of the game. As usual, we're operating on a 1d20. First and foremost, if anyone rolls a 1 the only thing that will cancel it out is a 20. It doesn't matter if you roll a 15, a 2, a 6 or anything else... If someone rolls a 1 and no one rolls a 20 that turn, the 1 is taken. As usual, highest number beats lowest.

None of your emotional modifiers count for this chase, but there are two things that do affect your success. You are in a familiar environment with this first room, which gives you a +1, but you are also in a pitch black environment which gives you a -1 to your rolls. So no modifiers will be applied to your rolls this time, but in other cases you will have your environment either working for or against you. The back room is cluttered with trash bags full of various garments, which would make it a little bit more difficult, but since this is the first chase I won't deduct anything this time.

You have two main options during a chase: Run, and hide. Running is self explanatory. Your rolls affect your success and your distance. Hiding is a little different. When you hide you must roll to find a place. Roll high, you've got more options... Roll low, and you might take too long making a decision because you're so frazzled. If you want to stay hidden,

Now, let's say you want to throw down something to trip up this big boy or create some kind of reinforcement to put against the door. The first requirement is that you're ahead 10 feet or more of the being chasing you. Which you currently are. Much like hiding, you will roll to see what kind of objects you are able to barricade yourself with. However, this is the first time you're encountering this thing. You don't know how fast it is, how strong it is, or if it can do anything to combat the measures you've taken against it. Of course, if you don't know you'll never try.

Like all else, popular vote dictates what action you take. Roll with a 1d20 and say what you want to do. If there is absolutely no consensus, the higher number will be taken (save for the 1, 20 rule). That's about as fair as I can make it.

What happens if you're caught?

You probably don't want to find out.

The walls are tan, the floor is red, the counter is marked with a rectangle. If there is a grey square that means it's a door you can go through, black = no entry... If it's just a gap, it means it's a passage into another area. Mannequins and phone are in black, and the mirrors are marked in white lines on the far left.)

You're currently standing at the front of the tailor shop with your back to the front door. You have your shotgun, and all your bags. The stranger has left you to take her own path.

What will you do?

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1343790
Lock the door, then run.

>>1343815
Oh shit, 4. Someone help.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>1343790
>>1343719
>>1343815
The door is already locked, but we can try seeing if there are additional locks to further secure I suppose.
>>1343790
>>1343829
Secure lock, barricade door with counter.

>>1343859
>Rolled 9 (1d20)
MEDIOCRE!

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>>1343859

(Taking 9 as the highest number. +0 modifier.)

Your hands scrape at the door, nails scratching on the wood as you frantically look for the lock. You feel nothing but a flat piece of metal against your palms. It hits you after about thirty seconds of searching that there is no lock, and you remember the phone call that opened the door for you. Realizing there's no possible way to lock this door, you jump over the coat hangers and get behind the counter, attempting to push it against the door and barricade yourself.

You push, moving your body in all sorts of tense, awkward angles to move the counter, but to no avail. A loud grunt comes out of your throat as you press with your back, feet scuffling on the carpet as you try to push. You expel every ounce of physical might your body has... Nothing. Not even an inch. The counter is bolted into the floor and absolutely will not move.

You raise your head and realize that you can hear footsteps. It's gotten much closer to you. The prickling of hairs on your body courses over your skin... You can feel the bristling of it all over your arms and back... It does little for your confidence.

You are just within the 10 foot range. You may run, hide, or try to create a barricade/obstruction for defense.

Your heart pounds as the footsteps become louder. What will you do?

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1343940
Withdraw immediately!

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1343940
>>1343952
2nded.

>>1343940
>ou feel nothing but a flat piece of metal against your palms. It hits you after about thirty seconds of searching that there is no lock, and you remember the phone call that opened the door for you.
So what sort of door is this anyways to have no knob on the back of the door, lock, and no keyhole either? I'm guessing it's mostly so the front entrance can't be locked for customers?

>>1343952
(To where?)

>>1343972
Outside the back door?

>>1343972
Through the back of the store, to the alley.

>>1343952
>>1343978
Do you want to hide in the trash bag room, or just run as far as away as possible?

>>1343979
As long as we don't push ourself too far, we can go pretty far.

File: chase1b.png (49KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1343952
>>1343978

(Taking 14 as the highest roll.)

You clamor through the back, running on your toes. You only stop when you hear the 'CRUNCH' of something buckling under your feet. You hiss as the sharpness sends jolts of pain through you, but it's not bad enough to debilitate you. You shuffle around, crunching on the trash bag, and remember that the back room was absolutely littered with garbage bags.

You can hear the sound of footsteps getting closer until they stop. With a bursting explosion of absolute power you turn to look over your shoulder and see that the front door has been completely obliterated. Behind the wooden rubble and dust is your antagonist. You notice that it's not just the door that's busted open, but a silhouette in the wall has been made to fit the shape of this humanoid.

...Wasn't the exterior brick?

Yeah. Yeah, it was brick. You quickly shuffle to your left, quietly so that it will neither see nor hear you. You feel as though you were successful at that. You turn, seeing the shining of a few trash bags in what little light has shone into this room, but you're not able to distinguish their place, nor the quantity.

You can't see anything outside of your field of sight. The humanoid is far too close for you to barricade yourself without being caught. You may either run or hide in any direction, but you do not know what lays before you.

Considering the position of the building, something tells you that the exit is towards the back wall.

(Your rolls aren't penalized in here, but you do have to deal with the obstacles. Your vision is limited in the darkness. You may either run or hide, but your success and distance is determined by your roll.)

File: chasepossiblepath1b.png (77KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>1344074
Shit
Shitty shit.
Umm Follow the white arrow, till you reach the red dot. Then, starting at the red dot and going along the green arrows, search for the door.

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>1344074
>>1344109
2nded.
Is this like the Mold Monster from Resident Evil 7: Biohazard?

>>1344124
YES!

File: chase1c.png (82KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1344124
(I've never played that game before, but if it's true I'm glad someone else used the tactics lol I'm not totally off the mark then.)

>>1344124

(Taking 19 as the highest roll.)

You creep up slowly, making sure to hold your breath. You feel the slick skin of the garbage bags again and lift your foot. Without making a sound you place your feet down slowly, holding your shotgun tightly to not drop it. You graze against something solid in one of the bags, but you hold your tongue as your skin stings.

You've climbed over about two bags when you stop to listen to what's happening in the next room. You can hear low growling fade in and out... It seems like this thing is searching for you in the front area.

You look down and all you see is garbage bags. Stepping over them would be tricky, but it could lead to a short cut... Then again, if you wanted to play it safe you could probably step back to where you were and try another way without much issue.

Of course, you're in a pile of black trash bags. Hiding could be an option.

What will you do?

>>1344109

(Should I assume this is the path you want to follow, if you still want to move? You can switch directions at any time, by the way, just asking.)

File: chasepathalt1c.png (114KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1344197
That's a lot of trash bags, umm... err...
looks like this path would be more clear.

>>1344197
>>1344211
>Path image.
All these motherfucking trash bags, man!
>>1344211
2nded. Buff Monster doesn't know we're here, best to make sure it keeps that way.

(I still need rolls for this, it is a new turn.)

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1344243
Oh, alright. I figured we'd wait for the roll prompt before we do it.
>>1344197
>>1344223

File: chase1d.png (100KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1344256

(Taking 4 as the highest roll.)

You carefully step back over from the way you came, your foot finding the ground. Slowly, you shuffle across the carpet, sliding your feet to feel for any obstructions to avoid.

That was a mistake.

You don't know how it happened, and you don't want to know... If you did, you would physically beat yourself for being so stupid. But somewhere along the way a loose flap from the garbage bag finds its way under your foot.

You take a confident slide and wipe you. You can actually feel your feet launch into the air before your rear end hits the ground, and you can't help but yell out in shock. Your arms flail out and you spread them wide to balance yourself-- Losing your shotgun in the process.

Your eyes widen and your heart lurches in your chest as your weapon gets away from you. Your body hits the ground before it does, though, and you knock your head against something pointy in the trash bag. As you do, you hear a gunshot.

The gun fired on its own as it hit the ground.

Your ears ring, but the blast does little to affect you compared to your realization of the implications. There is no doubt that humanoid knows exactly where you are. You scramble to your feet, scraping your leg against a rough surface in the process. You hear the loud footsteps of the figure growing closer and closer.

The only good thing to come out of this mess was that you're able to located the shotgun with relative ease due to the bang. You wrap your hand around the hot metal, quickly sliding it down to the butt and snatch it up.

You see the shadow of something largely grotesque staggering towards you, as a white, blue mist begins to fill the room. The deathly chill from outside has now reached you in this room.

You have to do something soon or this thing is going to get you. Hiding, running, anything as long as you're fast about it.

What will you do?

>>1344382
I'm going to wait for an anon to suggest something before I dig us into a hole.

internet crapped out on me.
>>1344382
Shit.

>>1344448
>internet crapped out on me.
It's fine, now we just have to get out of this mess.
>Shit.
Yep.

File: chase1d.png (138KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1344382
Is this path ok?
Or should we hide?
Not rolling till there is a consensus on what to do.

>>1344459
>Or should we hide?
>>1344382
>You see the shadow of something largely grotesque staggering towards you, as a white, blue mist begins to fill the room. The deathly chill from outside has now reached you in this room.
It already knows the direction we're in, we'd be too close to it to hide at this point. Before it might've worked while it was wandering aimlessly, but it might know we'd be somewhere in the room now.
>>1344459
>Is this path ok?
That path looks good, we got stuck on the trash bags once, let's not have that happen again.

Whatever we do, we shouldn't be stuck in the same room as Buff Monster it if it's anything like the Mold Monster.

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1344485
Path it is.
Rolling.

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1344382
>>1344485
>>1344459
>>1344488
2nding.

File: chase1e.png (196KB, 1000x650px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1344488

(Taking 14 as the highest roll.)

You quickly shamble back, lowering yourself to the ground to remain as unseen as possible, holding your shotgun with far less confidence. Your back hits something against the wall and you jump, turning around and feeling with your hand. It feels like a little metal box, with a key dangling--

It's the fuse box. This is what the stranger was working with.

You stay low, although you don't think it matters much. The figure has entered the room, the cold, dry fog seeping in and chilling you. You have to physically stop your teeth from chattering.

The humanoid stops, leaning back and breathing heavily. It seems even bigger at this distance, inhumanely so. You see the bag on its head move with each inhale and exhale... And you wonder if it can see. You wonder if it would be possible to walk right next to it without making a noise and slip by unnoticed.

You're not one hundred percent sure you want to test that theory in this situation.

It turns its head left and right, as if deciding where to go.

What will you do?

(You guys know what's awesome. I have a cat that like to knit at the carpet with VIGOR like she's trying to dig her way into the room. So whenever I'm writing the spoopies all I hear from right outside my door is popping and shredding.)

>>1344607
>(You guys know what's awesome. I have a cat that like to knit at the carpet with VIGOR like she's trying to dig her way into the room. So whenever I'm writing the spoopies all I hear from right outside my door is popping and shredding.)
Must really help set the mood for your writing.
I think I'm done for now, but I think we should stick to the edge of wall and go right to the exit if anyone else doesn't have any suggestions.

(Heads up, posting will be scarce tomorrow, have some more health drama to deal with, plus it's an anniversary date for my honey and I. I see we are once again in auto sage, no worries, we're going to at least wait until we're out of the building... Or perhaps killed horribly, who knows... Before starting a new one.)

(Alright, everyone, I had a lovely day off and I hope you all did, too... Now, back to business.

>>1344607


What will you do?)

>>1344779
>I think we should stick to the edge of wall and go right to the exit
Guess I'll second this.

>>1348952
We do need to leave immediately.

>>1344607
>>1344779
>>1348952
>>1349058
Okay, so I suppose we do that then.
>Stick to the edge of the wall and go East or West to the last known memory of the exit's location.
The Buff Monster doesn't know where we exactly are, so if we can sneak out of this quickly enough, then we should be home free.
Should we start rolling, then?

>>1349085
K gonna roll

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1349092

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>1349085

>>1349105
O.o
Almost bit the big one.

>>1349105
>Rolled 2 (1d20)
>>1349112
Wow, that was REALLY close there.

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326KB, 1000x650px

>>1349101

(Taking 13 as the highest number.)

You crouch down, keeping your eyes on the humanoid and clenching your jaw to prevent your teeth from chattering. The entire room has chilled over with an invisible frost, a frigid presence that invites the idea of death into your mind. You watch as the figure lumbers forward, into the center of the room, crunching one of the trash bags flat to the ground with its bare feet.

You notice that your movements are slower with each step the creature takes closer to you. You can feel each of your limbs, but they seem to be rigid and much harder to move. The cold is affecting them without doubt, to the point where you're moving about half as fast as you normally would. You stop as your foot steps and sinks into on another trash bag, relieved that the contents seem to be a gown rather than a pair of high heels.

Whatever this thing is, it's beginning to render you immobile with its chilling aura and it's getting closer. You're starting to shiver.

You collect yourself enough to examine your options. Moving quickly might be impossible, but you could take your chances moving slowly. You do have a gun, although one of your shots before reload has been fired. You also don't think this thing has noticed you, yet. It knows you're in here, but it doesn't know where you are exactly.

What will you do?

>>1349373
Quest stalling a bit, uh?
If I may venture a guess as to why, QM, I'd say it may be because people don't like to roll so frequently.
What we are dealing with here is supposed to be a chase, a fast paced event. But honestly, I don't see much of a difference between our situation now and before the last roll.
Which if I'm not mistaken was for "let's try to quickly yet quietly get out of here".
It wasn't a failed roll yet we're still here, rolling again for the same goal (unless somebody decides to try something different which has been made to appear very unadvisable).
At least, it's the reason why I've been refreshing this page for quite a while now thinking "Eh, let someone else do it". At over an hour sinced the last post, Imust assume I'm not the only one.

So ok, I'll roll for quietly trying to sneak out of here. Hopefully this time the situation will evolve significantly because if not I'm not sure how much longer people will stay invested.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1349810
Shit, captcha crashed and I forgot to again type in the roll.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>1349810
QUIETLY!

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1349373
>>1349085
I'm guessing we remember the last spot of the back door to be on the West side, then.

>>1349810
All these rolls, so little progress.

File: chase1over.png (2MB, 800x1350px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1349816
(Taking 16 as the highest roll.)

(We will be coming back to this after the narrative. I want to talk about this.)

Eyes quickly shifting between the floor and the figure, you step over the last trash bag and your foot hits the reassuring carpet. You body is still stiff, every bit of you feeling as though it weighs twice as much. Your jaw begins to shake with the force you have to use to keep your teeth from chattering.

The hand not gripping your gun feels against the wall frantically, the figure now moving into the center of the room as it flattens everything in its path. Your feet grow extremely cold, and begin to numb as though the circulation is being sucked out of them.

Your fingertips hit something cold and metal, flat, and your face softens in relief upon the identification. It's a door. It's the metal back door to the outside. You continue to inch to the right, sliding your fingers until you find the place where the doorknob should be...

...But there is no knob. There's nothing there, it's an empty, steel hole. Your first reaction is to keep searching-- This is a mistake, it's dark and you're feeling around with a half-numb hand. Your fingertips claw at the steel door frantically, but you still find no knob. There's nothing there to open the door.

It hits you like a slap across your face. You, nor the stranger were able to get the door open from either side. The only reason you were even let inside of this building was out of the will of some godforsaken voice belonging to someone you don't even know.

You're panicking, still scratching at the door like a rat trapped in a lab. You try to snake your fingers into the hole to see if there's something you can pull or press against to activate something to open it but there's not even a thread to hold onto.

And then it stops. For a moment you think this monstrous being is going to turn around and walk out of the room. But then it faces you, and even though you can't recognize a shred of human features underneath that burlap bag you -know- that it sees you.

It's over.

You stand back as it outstretches its hand, reaching towards you. The closer that bloated arm comes to you the more intense the chill is against your skin until you can see your breath turn frosty against the air. The mist fills the room, clouding your vision and covering your skin. You gasp as you feel something tight and prickling against you, and just from glancing down you can tell that you're being frozen over. Little, sparkling crystals of ice encrust your skin as this being shambles closer and closer to you. Your chest hurts to breathe. Your throat is closing and your nose prickles as its definition is lined with the chill of death.

(1/2)

>>1350540


It lets out a low, bellowing moan that fills the room, echoing off the walls and sending the environment into tremors from the audible might. You hear a ringing in your ears, followed by the wail of something... You can't put your finger on. The only thing you can single out is a miserable dread. You wonder if it's your own.

You can hear the last breath leave your throat before you are immobilized. And, with a painful tightness in your chest, the last thing you see is the red, textured carpet before the chill of death washes over your entire body.

It's over. It really is over.

>>1349810

(This is what I meant to talk about.

I waited as long as I did to see if someone remembered that the back door was locked.

Running is not the only option you were given, nor was anyone encouraged to do so. Running was always an option. Before the players even picked a direction they were told that running, hiding, and barricading yourself are all valid options. I gave everyone that information once the choice was made to run into the building, and I continued to remind people of that choice throughout the chase, especially when you got to that back room.

>>1344074
>You may either run or hide

>>1344197
>Of course you're in a pile of black trash bags. Hiding could be an option.

>>1344382
>You have to do something soon or this thing is going to get you. Hiding, running, anything as long as you're fast about it.

>>1349373
You also don't think this thing has noticed you, yet. It knows you're in here, but it doesn't know where you are exactly.

You were never encouraged to run. You were given the option, and you took it. Which is absolutely fine. I'm not supposed to make the decision for you, and there's nothing wrong with having made that decision because that's the one you wanted to make. Running was never made advisable over anything else.

With that said, I know this dragged on much longer than it should have despite my reasoning for doing so. I was even bored, and that shouldn't happen. This will not happen again on purpose. I'm still relatively new to QM'ing and learning about what works best for this kind of format.

I'm happy people are playing and taking an interest in this, really. I am happy I'm getting feedback it means people care enough about what's going on to put in an opinion. But here's the thing and this is why it's so important I point this out: There is a permanent penalty for losing a chase. It's important to know that I didn't corner you into losing by recommending one option over the other, because I didn't. That's why I'm making such a big deal about this.

More info next post.)

>>1350656
Sorry op, we're not very bright.

>>1350656
>>1343967
So I'm still trying to wrap my head around why it can't be entered by normal means, is this some type of spooky door which is the reason why? I keep thinking it's like a normal door in some sense because it wasn't really given a reason why it's special over anything else. Then forgetting that crucial detail that it isn’t because it seems to be the same in all senses except for the weird perma-locked mechanism.

>>1350676
Probably electromagnetic lock, but why there?

>>1350656
I still liked the quest even though we stank at it

>>1350686
>Probably electromagnetic lock, but why there?
Wouldn't there be a keypad to actually activate the mechanism? There's no control room for these door in this tailor shop to my memory.

>>1350672

(I really don't want it to sound like I'm berating the players because I'm not. What you guys did was legitimately valid. But there was a persisting environment factor this door had, being that it couldn't be opened from either way, and it was brought up in several circumstances. It's not really a good or a bad thing, it's just a thing.)

>>1350656

(And by locked I mean wouldn't open on either side. It was never necessarily locked and that post was a blunder. My mistake. I would call it broken before I called it locked, I don't know why I did that.

Now... 'It's over'. Is the game over? No, it is not. We've just started and there will be a new thread tomorrow morning because this one is on page 6 and in autosage. Which means that our third thread is over.

Wrapping up this thread, we managed to get into the tailoring shop by phoning in a number from our business card. Then, we saw the place looks as if it had been evacuated. It made you think... What if something didn't happen to us, but rather to this town. We then went into another puzzle, which>>1340246 figured out almost immediately and perfectly on the first try (as did >>1340458).

We got several things out of that excursion, including the 'Leewell Grocery Key', a few quarters for the payphones (which you needed to activate the phone in the first place to call the number on the business card), and a blue and Silver Class Ring that was added to your quest inventory.

But our search was cut short by something monstrous, a humanoid male splotched with grey and blue skin and a burlap bag tied around his head with a rope. Whatever it was, it wasn't friendly. It chased you, staggering along as if it was drunk, and brought about a fog/mist of icy cold death with it.

It was so bad that you couldn't escape it, nor could you overcome it. And that's where this thread came to an end.

Again, thank you all for your participation and interest. We're going to get into a lot of plot next thread. If you like the story aspect of a quest, you should pop in. I hope to see everyone tomorrow, and I will return to this thread with a link whenever the new thread is out. Thank you.)

>>1350729
Link excellent, see you tomorrow. Well not see... you know what I mean.

>>1350729
>I hope to see everyone tomorrow, and I will return to this thread with a link whenever the new thread is out.
Thanks for the session, QM.

>>1350729
>(And by locked I mean wouldn't open on either side. It was never necessarily locked and that post was a blunder. My mistake. I would call it broken before I called it locked, I don't know why I did that.
>>1350722
>>1350676
Ah, so it's a spookily broken door, that seems to be missing several parts. That seems to make a bit more sense.

New Thread

>>1351617
>>1351617
>>1351617