The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the pounding headache in your skull, and the god-awful wailing that’s only making it worse. It takes you a few moments to figure out that it isn’t someone screaming their head off, but the sound of a klaxon alarm blaring incessantly.
After groping blindly for the snooze button of your alarm clock, you quickly come to the conclusion that from the cold, metallic feel of the surface you’re lying on, you’re most certainly not waking up in your own house and on your own mattress.
You rapidly sit up, slowly massaging the fatigue out of your head as you try to puzzle out what the hell is going on. Your body feels heavy and sluggish, as if you’d been asleep for a long time. At least, that’s what it felt like. You’re positively sure that it wasn’t normal to wake up feeling like this.
It only takes a few moments for the blur to fade away and your vision to sharpen to decipherable levels. You find yourself in what appears to be some sort of medical facility, judging from the tools scattered around the room and the faded anatomy posters on the walls. The overhead lights have completely gone out, with only the faint illumination of emergency lighting the only way you’re able to see in the room.
You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that this is never a good scenario to wake up in.
There’s a mirror sitting adjacent to the table you’re lying on. You pull yourself closer to it, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the numbness in your body begins to fade away. Squinting carefully, the image you see in the reflecting surface is that…
>Of a young man in his mid-twenties.
>Of a young woman in her mid-twenties.
A familiar sight stares back at you. Light brown hair, blue eyes, and a somewhat prominent jawline. That’s definitely the face of Adrian Brown, with a little more dirt and grime on your skin than you would normally like.
But at any rate, you could worry about cosmetic appearances later. Right now, you had a lot more pressing issues to worry about other than prettying yourself up. You’re not known to be a man who has his priorities out of order.
The biggest elephant in the room was where the hell you were, and what the fuck was going on. As far as you’re concerned, this isn’t how someone’s supposed to normally wake up. Abandoned medical facilities and klaxon alarms? When did your life suddenly become a bad summer movie?
The only coherent thing you remember was driving to this new job offer in D.C. It was a much needed change of pace considering what previously happened to you while working your last job. The drive up wasn’t too bad, despite the heavy traffic and the fact that Virginians can’t drive for shit. But if the letter in the shotgun seat had any truth in what awaited you, then it would have all been worth it. That much you remember.
Your memory is crystal clear up until the point where you remember pulling into the garage adjacent to the building the directions had you follow. But after turning off your car, everything starts to become hazy and completely indecipherable.
In spite of that, you concentrate as hard as you can, doing your best to drown out the klaxon alarm and focus your mind. The absolute, last thing you remember before waking up here is…
>Roll d100 to determine how much you remember.
[s]This quest is operating on a best of three rule.[/s]
This isn’t the ideal environment for concentrating, as the incessant alarm continues to interrupt your train of thought before it can get too far in reminiscence. But it’s enough to get some bits and pieces of what the hell happened to you.
The most coherent thing you remember is the sound of…two, no wait. Definitely three people calling your name. You’re fairly sure that they’re all trying to say something else, but your mind is way too scrambled to recognize anything else than “Adrian” being shouted from a long distance away.
But separate from the voices, you do remember the vague impression of someone touching your face, cradling you in what felt like…a tender embrace. Some kind of floral scent was there too, and you more than certainly felt the one holding you whisper something into your ear. But that’s it. You can’t hear what it had to say. Just the feeling of its breath on your ears.
The sound of rattling breaks your focus and snaps you right back to the present. After a brief moment of panic, you’re able calm down and pinpoint the source of the noise. Set up in each corner of the room, there are four other gurneys, each with a person laying on them. All of them appear to be either unconscious, or barely awake and instinctively reacting to the klaxon.
You first decide to check on…
>The man dressed in the livery of a Catholic priest.
>The young lady wearing a grey Fairfax P.D. shirt.
>The thin man smartly dressed for white-collar work.
>The heavy-set woman wearing a mechanic’s outfit.
[s]Gonna grab some chow. BRB.[/s]
Sushi is delicious, yo.
Going to the police officer is a good idea. In these kinds of situations, you’re more than certain that these kinds of decisions will boost your chances of survival.
You make your way to her gurney, taking care to avoid stepping on any errant medical tools on the floor. Scalpels, clothing scissors, too many instruments that end with “–scope”, and what look like broken hypodermic needles. Those you take exceptional care to nudge underneath one of the tables.
When you reach the side of her bed, you find her to be completely unconscious. Somehow, in spite of all the pandemonium and noise, she’s continuing to sleep without a care in the world. But it looks like her dreams are far from ideal, given how she's tossing and turning. Out of all the people in the room, she's the one making the most noise in her sleep.
But she's really pretty though. You have no doubt that if she were awake, she'd be a knockout, but now, she's...kinda cute. Blonde hair, lithe body, and legs that go on forever – oh wait, that’s a pistol.
That’s more than enough to keep your eyes from wandering. But at any event, you’ve got an unresponsive officer. It’s probably best to wake her up…
>Gently. "I'd hate to bother you, but do you mind waking up?
>Forcefully. "Wake up! We've got a problem here!"
Best image I could get. There aren't as many beds in the story, though.
You gingerly place a hand on her shoulder and gently shake it. You clear your throat, estimate how loud you’d have to be heard over the klaxon, and then say, “I’d hate to bother you, but do you mind waking up?”
More than anything else, it seems that she responded to your hand more than anything else. She shakes off your hand, mumbling curses under her breath, as she twists again. But something’s changed. She’s definitely more responsive than she was a minute ago, if her wincing against the alarm is any indication.
She slowly pushes herself up into a seating position, blowing stray locks of hair out of her face as she stretches the kinks out of her body. You can hear the sound of vertebrae cracking in spite of the noise.
When she finishes, she turns to look at you, giving you a cursory up-and-down inspection. “Who the hell are you?” she slowly drawls. “Wait, no. Where the hell am I?!” The tail end of her sentence turns into a shout as she finally takes in the full extent of where the both of you are. “What the fuck is going on here?!”
From the way her hand is clenching at empty air, the situation looks like it might take a turn for the violent if you don't do something quick about it.
"Adrian, I don't know where we are, and I don't know whats going on. From the looks of things everyone here might be in the same boat, whatever the hell that boat is."
Err probably not the best idea. I don't know who we are but going for a trained cop's gun just screams poor decision in the making. Not to mention trust factor.
“I’m Adrian, and I have no idea where we are,” you respond swiftly, all the while keeping a peripheral eye on her hands and the gun at her waist. “Look, I’m just as confused as you are; I woke up first and thought that you might have an idea what’s going on. I just want to wake the others up and try to figure out what’s happening.”
She looks at you for a tense moment, eyebrows furrowed, before relaxing. “Alright then. You don’t look like a liar, and I’ve met them by the metric fuckton. It comes with my line of work, at any rate.”
She pauses, pushing herself off of the gurney and landing on the ground with relative ease. “The name’s Fitzgerald – Fitz, if you want to keep it short. I’d normally have you calling me ‘sir’ or ‘Officer Fitzgerald’, but these aren’t exactly normal circumstances. You said that there were others?”
You let out a tense breath that you didn't know you were holding. “Yeah. From the looks of things, everyone here might be in the same boat.” Beat. “Wherever the hell that boat is, at any rate. Help me wake them up. Maybe they have an idea of what’s going on?”
Fitz nods. “Alright. I’ll grab the mechanic. You go get the other two.”
With that, you both set off in your respective directions. You decide to go for...
>The man dressed in the livery of a Catholic priest.
>The thin man smartly dressed for white-collar work.
>>The thin man smartly dressed for white-collar work.
Just as you approach the thin man, you can see that he’s already in the process of waking up from his impromptu nap. He seems to be taking it worse than either you or Fitz, however. Both of his hands are covered over his ears and even then, he’s clearly wincing in pain.
He appears to be in the latter half of his second decade, but the dark circles under his eyes and unshaved jawline made him look at least seven years older.
“I can’t bloody stand the noise!” he shouts as you get closer. “Tell 'em to shut off the damn thing before we all go deaf within the 'our!"
>Calm response. "I'm afraid that's not going to be happening..."
>Sarcastic response. "Sure. Want a coffee with that, your lordship?"
>Roll d100 for Perception
If he's wearing a hearing aid of some kind, you're not sure. His hands are completely covering his ears, ensuring that you can't see anything even if you have keen eyesight.
But before you can deliver a less-than-polite response to his demand, you can hear something moving from outside of the room, in spite of the alarm. Whatever it is, it doesn't have footsteps as much as it slithers with a gelatinous, viscous noise.
You can see the creature as it begins to enter within range of your vision. While it is only semi-visible and cut off because of the door, you still have a decent image of what it is. It's some sort of amorphous blob, with bits of...is that a human skeleton inside of it?!
A quick peripheral view informs you that out of all of you, you are the only one in the room to notice it. Fitz is busy helping up the mechanic, and the priest is still out cold.
But it seems to have noticed you. It surges and begins sliding towards you with surprising speed.
“The hell is that – FITZ!!”
You push white collar off of his gurney, sending him down to the tile foor in a tumble of curses and British slang. As soon as you’re sure that he’s as safe as you can get, you grab the stretcher and bring it around to bear against the monster.
It crashes against the table with a surprising amount of force. You can feel yourself slightly pushed back before you find a steady footing. With a roar, you set your feet as hard as you can against the ground and shove with all your might.
The gurney seems to sink into the gel before it hits something sturdy (probably the skeleton, but you don’t want to dwell on that) and sends the monster sliding backwards on a trail of its own excrement. Its path takes it right out of the doorway and crashing into the wall outside, where it’s pinned behind the gurney.
But judging from the way that its vibrating excitedly, it doesn’t look like you’ve hurt it too much.
Fitz comes up right behind you, pistol in her hands and shouts, “What the fuck is that thing?”
>"How am I supposed to know?! Shoot it!"
>"Grab some more debris to throw at it! Save your ammo!"
>Grab some more debris to throw at it! Save your ammo!
"How should I know?" You shout. "Shit. Is your gun louder than this alarm? I'd really hate to know if there're more of these things!"
"It's a gun in an enclosed space," she fires back. "What do you think?"
She raises a good point.
"Grab some more debris to throw at it! Save your ammo!"
Thankfully, there's no shortage of large objects to throw at the monster. There's your gurney, Fitz's gurney, and some odd ends and pieces of broken hospital equipment. Between the two of you, you both manage to somehow keep the monster trapped under what looks like a very heavy pile of garbage.
As far as the both of you are concerned, there's no way that thing is gonna get out of that. Well, unless you decide to help it out, the odds of which were so abysmal that it was practically never going to happen.
After catching her breath, Fitz turns to you. "Okay, now what?"
"Heavyset female mechanic" is a very tricky search parameter...
You return your attention back to the rest of your motley group. The mechanic lady -oh WOW- is helping white collar stand up, who’s busy muttering to himself and fiddling with something in his ear. Huh. You were right. It looks like the bloke did have a hearing aid. No wonder he was in pain.
Seeing the both of them okay, you turn towards the direction of the priest. But you don’t need to help him get up. Apparently, he took care of that himself while both you and Fitz were burying the ooze underneath the rubble.
“Thank you very much, but as you can see, I’m quite fine,” he says in a polite tone of voice. His calm smile juxtaposes oddly with the overhead alarm. “Ah, but where are my manners? I am Father MacKay, at your service. And if it isn’t any bother, I would very much like to know the names of my companions.”
>Keep it quick and simple. The sooner and further away you are from the monster, the better.
>Take your time. The monster isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, thanks to the debris.
>Go to verify Captcha.
>Choose all the images with steak.
>Keep it quick and simple. The sooner and further away you are from the monster, the better.
Quick introductions and then lets get moving.
He got a lot of the cyberman's buddies killed.
That's what I like to see! You tell him QM.
It doesn’t take you more than a second to respond. “Alright, but keep it quick. The sooner we head out, the better. I don’t want to stay anywhere near that thing for any longer than necessary.”
The mechanic girl pipes up. “We’re doing introductions now?” Her English is only slightly accented. You figure that it’s some kind of Asiatic one, given her looks. “Okay! I’m Victoria Yamane. Um…I would say that it’s a pleasure to meet you, but given the circumstances…” She finishes her sentence with a nervous chuckle as she glances around the room. “Not to say that you aren’t nice people, I’m sure!”
Fitz’s laugh is more of a bark than anything else. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll have plenty of time to socialize when we get out of this shithole. I already told him,” she jerks a thumb in your direction, “But y’all can just call me Fitz. Short for Officer Fitzgerald.”
It’s at that point that everyone turns to white collar, who only recently seems to have finished adjusting his hearing aid. You motion for him to introduce himself, and he tilts his head in confusion. Before you start shouting, his face brightens up and he adjusts one of the dials on his hearing aid.
“Ah, that’s somewhat acceptable,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “I do s’pose that I’m grateful to you for saving me, but do take care not to dirty the suit the next time. My name is Lawrence Brady, and I will accept being referred to as Mister Brady or Brady by itself. As for my profession, I’m a computer programmer…”
“Okay, we gotta hurry it up,” you interrupt him. He slightly scowls at you before he sees the debris pile shaking slightly before his face returns to a neutral expression.
“Okay, I’m Adrian Brown, and uh…I’m…”
>Soldier, U.S.Military (++Combat, = Social, = Knowledge) (Pick branch later)
>Medical Student, 3rd Year Grad (= Combat, = Social, ++ Knowledge)
Shit, you're right. Grad student athlete seems more plausible than that.
That makes sense. Or maybe some liberal arts student or something or other that involves lots of talking.
“…a medical student, currently in my third year of graduate school,” you finish.
Fitz whistles. “No shit? Never would’ve pegged ya for a sawbones. Still, you move pretty decently for someone who doesn’t look accustomed to fighting.”
You offer a slight smile before addressing everyone. “Okay, with that out of the way, we need to get out of here as fast as we can. Grab anything that you could use…like this!”
You reach down by the floor and pull up a steel cylinder that might have once been used to hang IV bags from. The steel is tarnished, but the cylinder itself is still sturdy enough to deal some serious damage. They build these things to last. You’ve treated enough injuries to know how hard blunt weapons can hit.
>Acquired Steel Pipe
Everyone nods their assent and grabs whatever they can find, which is more or less consisting of crude wood or metal clubs. As soon as they finish equipping themselves with their improvised weapons within a few seconds, minus Fitz who still has her pistol, they’re ready to go.
“Stay close and keep your eyes sharp,” Fitz says. “I’ll cover Adrian, who’s got point. The rest of you, get behind us…Brady, directly behind me.”
With that formation set, you set off into the hallway, taking care to skirt around the pile where the ooze is trapped under. There’s a faded sign out handing on the wall that gives you some cursory directions. You should go…
>Right, where an arrow points to stairwell.
>Left, where an arrow points to supplies.
>Brady, directly behind me.
>The man with a hearing aid
>directly behind the one with a gun
You're going to have a bad time, bruh
>Left, where an arrow points to supplies.
a crowbar might be necessary.
Okay folks, it's 12 AM here where I am. I'm not ready to go to sleep anytime soon, but if anyone's about to pass out, I'm more than willing to call this session complete for the moment and pick it up tomorrow.
It’s better to have a condom and not need it than to need one and not have it. At least, that's what your old man said when you first took that high school sweetheart of yours to homecoming. Of course, the current situation doesn’t involve dances or contraceptives, but the concept remained applicable.
Better to have medical supplies and not need them than to need them and not have any.
Thus, you lead your party left, in the direction where the arrow points towards supplies. When you went to go for that hands-on session at GWU Hospital, you remembered that they kept janitorial supplies less than ten feet away from medical items. Hopefully, the shithole you’re in right now had the same idea in mind.
Clean bandages, disinfectant, and antibiotics are completely essential to treating injuries. Painkillers are nice and all, but not needed unless something serious happened. Add in the fact that you've got the potential for crowbars, mop handles and hopefully some sturdier piping, and you all should be heading in the direction of the motherload.
>Roll d100 for Perception.
Holy fuck, those rolls. Also, pic unrelated.
You clearly hear the sound of more of those…things, coming up from ahead of you. It’s like they’re not even trying to hide. Judging from the small amounts of silence between each new squish, you estimate that there are about three of them. They don’t seem to be moving towards you, however, instead going around in what sounds like circles.
The hallway is big enough to fit two of them side-by-side. So two front-liners directly in front are a must. And the one buried way back there seemed to move somewhat fast. Like…just as quick as a five year old despite its gelatinous proportions.
You signal to the others that there are three of the monsters, taking care to pantomime that you all have to keep quiet. You all bring yourselves together to form a plan of attack
Fitz and Brady say to hit them, to take them out by surprise. Getting the initiative is well worth making some noise.
Victoria and Father MacKay say that you should try to go around. The commotion might bring more of the things.
I would prefer to grab some elemental attacks first, but what the hell would we use, a lighter?
....a molotov would actually be quite effective. Maybe TOO effective: we could choke ourselves using one.
You decide to blitz. It’s best to take care of them now than to run into them later.
With that, the party charges ahead and turns right into where the noises are coming from.
The slimes have set themselves up at what looks like an abandoned unit, simply mucking about in their own excretions. You bring your pipe to bear down on the closest one near you, a green ooze that throws all sorts of strange refraction from the flickering lighting.
It impacts the gel with a warping noise as the metal goes straight through its exterior…
>Roll d10 for Damage
>Surprise grants +5 damage.
There’s a satisfying crack as you hit something that isn’t the skeleton trapped within the gel. With a garbling wail, the slime breaks down into baser, steaming components.
A quick look around you finds that your comrades have had equal success in their disposing their own foes. Brady continues to whack at his own pile of dissolved goo. He doesn’t seem to care that it’s splattered all over his posh dress shoes. Maybe he’s a bit pent-up about how their last encounter went?
But at any rate, Victoria and Father MacKay have dispensed of their slime. And Fitz was able to stomp a hidden fourth one that was just about to come around the other corner. All in all, it looked like taking the things by surprise paid off in the end.
>Gained a Level!
>You are Level 2!
>The party is now Level 2!
>You may now control demons equal to or less than your level.
It looks like this is the area that those arrows were pointing at. Unless you made a wrong turn somewhere, this should be where both medical and janitorial supplies are.
One more update and then we'll call it quits for tonight. I can feel my body starting to crash...
“Look for first aid kits,” you say as you start digging through a supply cabinet. A curse exits your lips when you discover that there’s nothing but cobwebs and no small amount of dust. “If there’s any weapon better than the one you have, then go ahead and grab it.”
“Got it, boss-man!” Victoria chirps as she bounces away towards an empty room. Brady stares at her for a few moments before he shakes his head and starts digging.
A few minutes of cursory searching have unearthed the following.
>Three bottles of painkillers.
>Two pocket first aid kits.
>One roll of bandages.
>Two bottles of hydrogen peroxide.
>Broken Mop Handle (Victoria)
>Stainless Steel Pipe (MacKay)
>MAG-Light Flashlight (Brady)
MacKay clears his throat. “I’m not one to be a greedy man, but this looks somewhat meager for a place that’s supposed to have…well, more than what I see before me.”
“I found a locked door over…there.” Brady points towards a door in the distance. “I mean, there isn’t any sign on it, but logic dictates that there should be something valuable behind anything with a lock on it.”
From your current view, it looks like something tried to get in, if the claw marks on the thing were any indication. Maybe he’s got a point.
At that, Fitz steps up and cracks her neck. “Then that one’s gonna be me. I’ll get that door down within a second. Adrian, MacKay, I’m gonna need your help with this one…”
Together, the three of you position yourselves at the door. Victoria and Brady are keeping a sharp eye out for anything that might come from the hallways. “On the count of three…” She says. “One…two…three!”
>Roll d100 for Strength
I think I can manage ONE more...
The door gives way with a mighty crack, completely collapsing onto the ground under the weight of the three of you. You all ripped the damn thing off its very hinges, but you don’t have too long to be impressed.
An object that is in motion must continue to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. You, Fitz and MacKay are all currently in motion towards the tile floors, which just so happens to be the outside force.
It’s a real abrupt stop that knocks the wind out of you as you hit the ground. And to make matters even worse, Fitz and MacKay land right on top of you.
Yeah, Newton is a real bitch.
“What the heck?! Who are you people?!”
You all turn up to look at the source of the voice.
The shelves are somewhat threadbare, save for some more supplies. There’s no small abundance of even more brown bottles of hydrogen peroxide and small first aid kits, but that’s not what has your attention.
Previously reclined on an open box of tissues, a three-inch tall woman with wings hovers in the air above you, with a look of surprise and suspicion etched on her tiny face. You notice that the purple leotard she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination, but the majority of your attention is currently directed to sparks of lightning that are steadily growing in her hands.
We'll deal with your first demon negotiation tomorrow. Right now, all I'm concerned about is hitting the sack and archiving this thread. Good session, guys
>Excuse me, there seems to be slimes wandering the halls, would you happen to know why?
>I don't suppose you'd be willing to give directions to a stranger?
>Lastly, I can't help but recall that faeries are not supposed to, well, exist. As a man of science, I find the revelation that they DO to be rather vexing.
>as well as the one who wanted to binge-read London.
I see. I hope you enjoy it and we'll try not to spoil too much by making references in your thread.
I'm talking about >>44578436 you mister.
>Wanting Dante instead of Raidou Kuzunoha