Rise of the Dead, Episode 1

I should add my core mechanic is going to basically be rolling 2d6 against a TN to see if you succeed at a task, and rolling 3d6 take highest if there's something relevant. TN will be 4 to 10 depending on difficulty.

Since I am the Quest Master or whatever the hell it's called, I'll roll once for one of the attributes as an example:

If I get a 6, that becomes truth. I roll for his edges to be Alert and Good Aim.

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>8603

Sorry, rolling for Alert and Good Aim again, typed in the wrong thing for rolling.

This'll be my only contribution to chargen.

Also you can roll for other facts about the character, like if he went to college, or what kind of car she drives, etc.. The attributes are just suggestions.

Rolled 2 (1d6)

Profession: Firefighter

Setting: Liberia.

dice+1d6

Starting location: Iceland
(My home country)

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8647

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8654
woops I forgot how to roll right sorry

Rolled 5 (1d6)

Setting: Somalia.

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>8681
Just cause this is better than mine I'll roll for this again

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>8689

Well shit.

Occupation: Khat Farmer.

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>8689
Name: Lets try something interesting " Muhammad al-Qassam"

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>8694
Occupation: Al-Shabaab Militant

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>8588
Rolling for Alert and Strong

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8588
>3) Height and weight
5'3 80lbs cause of malnourished ofc

File: Literallyme.jpg (27KB, 318x307px) Image search: [Google]

27KB, 318x307px

>>8588
1) Carter Briggs, Veteran Abusive Police Officer
2)Profession: Local dirty cop.
3) 6'1, 175 pounds.
4) Burly generic police mustache, fancy harness, dirty brown hair. Hazel eyes
5) Family; Johnny Tight Lips.
6)Fargo, Minnesota.
7) Hates Neutral good+/Strong alchohol addiction

-Charismatic
-Strong
-Good firearm aim (When not drunk) Good melee aim (When drunk)
-Collected
-Generally a dirty cop.

Rolled 3, 3, 1, 1, 5, 4 = 17 (6d6)

>>8735
Forgot roll

>>8588
>>>/tg/

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>8735
Doesn't know how to roll. pls try again my friend

7) Any two edges: Stong Tough

>>8750
Alrighty deen
Edges: Improviser. Sneaky

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8768
For you. Sorry dad.

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8710
Fuck It I still want this.

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>8588
Single father of 2

Rolled 3, 4, 4, 6, 2, 2 = 21 (6d6)

>>8735
Ravioli, ravioli, give me the 6 otolli

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>8808
trying for that one more time

Rolled 6, 4, 4, 1, 4, 5 = 24 (6d6)

>>8814
We'z got #4. We must become the most Lawful Evil around

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>8588
>- Improvisor
>- Sneaky

>>8814
wtf why are you using a six 6d6? I thought we were using 1d6

Rolled 2, 6, 2, 2, 1, 3 = 16 (6d6)

>>8831
#1/4 made

Rolled 1, 3, 1, 2, 6, 4 = 17 (6d6)

>>8843
To roll for all the traits

>>8853
Ahhhh I See

Rolled 5, 4, 5 = 14 (3d6)

>>8863
1) Muhammad al-Qassam
2)Profession: Al-Shabaab Militant
3) 5'3 80lbs

Rolled 5, 4, 6, 1, 5, 6 = 27 (6d6)

>>8853
We'z got 1,4,5.
>>8863
Ye'. It makes sense to do all the options, and do a Space Race to fill all the rolls to decide the character.

Rolled 4, 2 = 6 (2d6)

>>8808
>>8838

Rolled 3, 5, 3, 1, 6, 2 = 20 (6d6)

>>8871
1,3,4,5,6.
One more.

Rolled 6, 3 = 9 (2d6)

>>8871
We've already got starting location down as somalia, this will be fun :)

>>8870
>2)Profession: Al-Shabaab Militant
>3) 5'3 80lbs

Rolled 3, 2, 2, 3, 3, 2 = 15 (6d6)

>>8887
A'ight.
1) Carter Briggs, Veteran Abusive Police Officer
2)Profession: Local dirty cop.
3) 6'1, 175 pounds.
4) Burly generic police mustache, fancy harness, dirty brown hair. Hazel eyes
5) Family; Johnny Tight Lips.
6) Somalia
7) Hates Neutral good+/Strong alchohol addiction

>>8898
Am on phone now
But didn't I hit my 2 before yours?

What else is there to roll?

What's confirmed so far?

>>8936
I guess?
1)Carter Briggs, Veteran Abusive Police Officer
2)Al-Shabaab Militant.
3)6'1, 175 pounds
4)Burly generic police mustache,fancy harness, dirty brown hair. Hazel eyes, white.
5)Family; Johnny Tight lips
6)Somalia
7)Sneaky, Improvisor

>>8959
Nothing I guess, the story begins now so maybe we wait for QM to get back

>>8961

Can we just say he has no family? Everything else is super cool except that joke roll.

>>8998
A'ight.

OP?

Are you writing?

>>9050
Well I'll see you anons tomorrow I've gotta sleep, hope I see something interesting when I wake up

I am here, sorry. I was gone for a little while.

I have no idea how the hell a guy with an English name is going to be in Somalia as a local cop. I could have him on foreign assignment as something else? Or maybe he moved there?

I know fuck-all 'bout Somalia is the thing. I can do if you guys want. Should I switch to Detroit? The level of civilization is about the same from what I've been told.

That said, this is definitely down:

Carter Briggs, veteran police officer, 6'1", 176 lbs, generic cop 'stache, dirt brown hair, hazel eyes, white, fancy harness.

He's got sneaky and improviser for edges.

You guys let me know what you think about Somalia and I'll try to start us off tonight. I'm on Eastern US time so it's 11 pm here.

I will come up with family and age myself. I think his brother will be Johnny.... "tight lips" sounds a bit too suggestive for a nickname, though it'd be decent almost as one of his informants.

>>9258
Alright. Detroit sounds fine, great even

>>9248

The vote was for sure some super sketchy country.

Either do research about Somalia or take one of the following:

Liberia

Myanmar

DRC

or, one of my two home countries, the Dominican Republic.

File: tegaki.png (9KB, 400x400px) Image search: [Google]

9KB, 400x400px

Carter Briggs
Male, 6'1", 176 lbs
Age: 32
Hair: dirt brown
Eyes: hazel
Skin: white
Edges: Sneaky and Improviser
Vitality: 5
Possessions: Beretta 92FS with two loaded magazines, tazer, police uniform, police badge, car keys, wallet, ID, 23.50 in cash and change, pictures of his brother and girlfriend.

>>9275
>>9293

Gonna go with Detroit, sorry DR anon. I will do my best to possibly fit it in later in the story, depending how it goes.

I've been reading some other quests and I think I'm going to post as often as I can, using the general consensus of what people want Carter Briggs to do. Just be careful cause it can be very easy for him to die; he's only got 5 "hit points" and a gun'll do like 3 or 4 damage. I'm not gonna have complicated rules or anything, just stuff I make up in my head so it feels a bit like an RPG.

I'll start the story in the next post, stick aruond for a bit, then head off to bed and try to post some more tomorrow. I'll save everything that happens in a text file so I can google doc it if this continues.

Carter's hands gripped the warm steering wheel as he coasted through the deserted back roads of Detroit. He'd been moving up in the police department over the last few years, but he still preferred this patrol route, a comfortable assignment in the wasteland. That was his name for it. A place he could come and escape from Nicole for a few hours, a place he could listen to the old rock'n'roll from his childhood. Not much happened out here, anyway. Once or twice he'd had trouble; gangs, homeless people living in the abandoned district, starting fires; but for the most part, it was complete silence, complete isolation.

He still drove the same Crown Ford Victoria he'd had for eight years now. The car pre-dated his membership in the police force. The other officers had all requisitioned upgrades; sleek SUVs with all sorts of built-in technological features.

Tonight, however, it seemed his taste for old cars has caught up with him. The engine starts to sputter, and Carter has an ear for sick cars. Something is wrong with the fuel intake. He cuts the engine and coasts over to a sidewalk that hasn't been walked on in months, if not years. He stops the car. A tow will be at least an hour.

What do you do?

>>9411
Sit in the car and listen to music

>>9411
Take out your Shotgun, a SPAS-12 with Sharpened police baton bayonet to defend yourself from the usual wild nigboon attack when a car breaks down in Detroit.

>>9430
>>9475


I'll reply to just one post if it's something reasonable and not blatantly suicidal or idiotic. Usually I'll wait for 2 to 3 but I want to get things started. Also feel free to tell me I'm retarded for doing things this way, I'm fairly new to quests so I don't mind. Might make some assumptions or twist people's responses to incorporate as much as possible, let me know if I'm being too autistic

Carter punches numbers in to the car phone, hoping that tow truck service is still in business. It's been eight years since he used them, when a shootout with a few gang members had fatal consequences for his tires. The phone rings....and rings.... and rings....and rings....and rings.

They probably went out of business.

"Shit," Carter mutters. He gets on the scanner to the dispatcher.

"Cruiser 132B, my engine's gone out, I'm sitting out here in the wasteland ... I mean .... near the corner of Easting and Brown. Can you guys get me a tow truck?"

There is a pause. A cool female voice responds.

"I told you to trade up that piece of junk a year ago, Carter."

"Please, Denise, just call the tow truck. Give me shit about it later. I hate sitting out here in the cold."

"Turn the heat on."

And she is gone. But Carter is sure help is on the way.

He sits back and fumbles through his CDs. Nirvana. Now there's one he hasn't listened to in a while. He pops in the CD, skipping to Heart-Shaped Box, his favorite song, and turns up the volume. Sometimes he likes the deadly quiet; but without the engine running, it makes him feel naked.

After a few songs, Carter begins to feel claustrophobic, and cold. He shuts off the music, and his ears ring in the silence. It doesn't matter much how he spends the time waiting. He clicks open the door, and steps out into the chill autumn air.

He leans against the streetlamp pole, basking in the dull orange light, watching it fade into the darkness.

His thoughts drift to Nicole. Things haven't been going well lately. The last time they had sex... almost two weeks ago. Her place. Her shift at the hospital had ended early. She'd barely had the energy for it. It wasn't til afterward the argument started. Things were getting better, but they could always get worse again. Carter was hesitant to throw four years away over something so minor. Who knew if he'd find someone else at this point? All his friends were married. Even his brother had found a nice girl to settle down with.

A scream, ragged and genuine, set his arm hairs at attention. He shivered, and looked over his shoulder. His hand went to his holstered Beretta. Reflex.

It was just one scream. It happened. Probably a party, or just some troublemakers.

He sat back again. He thought of how to make it up to Nicole. Some flowers on the way home? Chocolate? Cliche, but they worked.

Another scream. This one louder. Closer. And pained.

What do you do?

That's it for me for tonight, I'll be back tomorrow to write more. Thanks for your help so far guys. Let me know what I can do better.

>>9587
Draw Beretta and investigate the scream

>>9616

Alright fuck it one last post for the night

Carter was not on the straight and narrow. Protect and serve... but stay alive. And the pay in this city was shit. Hell, Nicole made more than he did, and she didn't risk getting her head blown off every day. So sure, there was some corruption. It was Detroit.

But whoever was screaming was in pain. And it was his job to help.

The Beretta's cold in his warm grip calmed his nerves. Better than scotch. He pushed at the gate to some ancient parking lot; the rusted lock crumbled in half, clattering onto the sidewalk. He threw one last glance at his police car. Surely they wouldn't tow it without him? Denise knew he was here.

They'd wait for him.

His slapping footsteps punctuate his shallow breathing. He's out of shape, but not by too much. He makes a mental note to start jogging again, then nixes it when he thinks realistically about it. Calisthenics were means to an end; getting him into police academy. After that, the job is enough of a work out.

His wandering mind lulls him into aimless running. He stops in front of a half-built parking garage. He spots a warm glow from two levels up; surely a campfire. Another homeless man living on his own, for certain.

A smirk on his face, Carter walks forward to investigate.

He stops dead at the parking garage gate. A man, about age forty-five, is running toward him, his bloodshot whiskey eyes bulging. He wears all the latest vagrant fashions; the faded brown overcoat, the red flannel shirt underneath, the torn beanie cap, the worn jeans covered in brown stains. The smell of alcohol hits Carter's nostrils from twenty feet away. He holds up a hand.

"Sir, please hold -- "

The man rushes by him, brushing his shoulder, as though he wasn't there.

"Hey!" Carter shouts, aiming his weapon in reflex. But the man is running. Running. Running. His footsteps fade.

Carter turns back to the gate. He thinks he hears rustling somewhere inside the empty garage, in the semi-darkness, and a sound that reminds him of chewing.

wat do?

>>9693
Get your SPAS-12 out of the car and bust in their like SWAT

>>9693
Go back to the fucking car and get the shotgun out of the back and take a nap in the car cradling the shotgun

>>9693
Pull out our flashlight and go investigate the noise

>>11237
I second this.

>>9693
let's do this: >>11237

Carter pulls out his flashlight. The beam is a bit dull but it will give some much needed light. He walks toward the parking garage, vaulting over the entrance gate. He's always been adept at moving quietly, so his footsteps barely make a sound.

Inside the garage, the chewing sound echoes more loudly, as well as a ripping noise. Carter feels detached all of the sudden, as though he is dreaming. His footsteps carry him forward, around one of the columns that holds a disused elevator. The flashlight beam darts about, a small circle of light in a sea of darkness. There is barely enough ambient light from the distant streetlamps to see where he is going.

He ascends another level; he hears soft growling now. A bear, maybe? He'd seen a black bear once, out in the abandoned districts.

He came to the second level, where the campfire sat near the edge of the parking garage, an island of orange light. Someone was laying on his back nearby it, among sleeping bags and empty cans. Another figure crouched over the first, it seemed to be.... eating?

What do you do?

>>11963
point your flashlight on the man and ask him basic questions (what's his identity and if he knows why that guy was running away earlier)

>>11974
You idiot. He's a VETERAN DIRTY COP. Not a sappy worker who follows protocol. We do it the dirty way.
Shoot him with your Spas 12 with Billy club attachment

>>11974
>>11996

Carter hates the homeless, and has for a long time. It's not a rational hatred, but when you've dragged a few dozen puking psychos to the drunk tank, and had to clean out the back of your patrol car and waste hard-earned cash on air freshener.... well, it becomes a bit more understandable.

He approaches slowly. Looks like one of these shiftless vagrants spent his panhandled profits on some bath salts, and has gone completely off the wall, munching on one of his buddies. Carter raises his pistol, and approaches slowly. He'd love to put the man out of his misery. But he can't just shoot him. One chance, he promises himself. The man gets one chance to comply. One chance.

"Police!" Carter shouts, "Police! Get up, put your hands where I can see them! Do it slowly!"

The figure begins to rise, and Carter can see blood dripping back onto the unconscious figure's body. Carter's wrist tenses.

The figure begins to shamble forward.

"Hands up!" Carter shouts.

The man keeps coming.

Wat do?

>>12027
he's asking for it, shoot the bastard
aiming for the center of gravity, i guess

>>12027
Shoot him. As you remember in Dirty COP 101, "No witnesses in the distances, shoot them within an instance!" I.E Stand your ground law

>>12027
Shoot the bastard center mass.

>>12048
Agreed. do this

Rolled 5 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>12046
>>12048

Carter hates killing. He has done it before, and the evil bastard deserved it, but that didn't take away the nightmares, the odd pallor that hung in his mind for the next few months. He got over it, but plenty in the department hadn't. And Carter might take a bribe without issue, but even to him, taking a life is something different.

But self-defense is self-defense. And who's going to be missing this guy anyway?

He takes careful aim, squeezes the trigger. His ears twinge, and the man jerks slightly; but does not stop.

Damn bath salts. Carter fires again. And again. And again.

The man does not fall.

>>12088
Shoot him in the head. Bullets cost too much lately to waste. Even if your cousin Johnny "Tight Lips" is the kingpin of the black market for guns and ammo, even he's getting trouble producing ammo because of the increase of gang wars and junkie attacks.

He fires over and over, until the man is just a few feet away. He can see his bloodshot eyes, the tight skin on his face, the dried blood clinging to his face, lips, even teeth. Even in the orange light, his eyes have a ... yellow color.

Carter raises the pistol a few degrees, and fires straight into the man's skull. He drops like a marionette cut from strings. He breathes a sigh of relief.

But the growling sound is still there, further off in the distance, in the darkness. And now it is louder, as though he has aroused its attention. Slowly, growing more visible from the gloom, comes a woman, limping awkwardly, several gaping knife wounds in her chest. Behind her is a tall, dark-skinned man, wearing tattered rags. Half of his face is rotted away. And a half-dozen more are lurking behind them, their facial features obscured by the darkness.

Adrenaline courses through Carter. What the hell is going on?

Fight, or flight? Or player's choice, of course.

>>12117
nope nope nope, run to the car, call reinforcements

>>12117
7, well. Sevens a crowd, y'know. Go back to the car to retrieve your Anti Nigger SPAS-12 and start pumping lead.

>>12126
+Grab long weapon in trunk.

Carter flees, dashing back down the ramp, trying to remember how many shots he fired. He thinks it's eight, but he can't be sure. Either way, this situation requires backup.

He finally makes it out of the parking garage, runs to his car. He rips open the door and dives inside, and for a second his hand goes to turn the key, before realizing the car is dead.

He fumbles with the radio receiver.

"Hello? Hello? This is Officer Carter Briggs, I'm near the corner of Easting and Brown. I've got multiple assailants, one dead, I need backup!"

"Carter?"

"Yeah! Send someone to help! One guy was eating another one, and he came at me! I shot him six fucking times before he died!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just send the backup!"

"Okay, it's on its way."

Carter drops the receiver and flings open the door again. He looks into the parking lot in front of the parking garage. They have followed him, and there are a dozen now, ambling toward the car with a limping gallop. They are about seventy feet away.

Carter pops the trunk. After that North Hollywood fiasco, they'd made sure every patrol car had a shotgun or AR, to avoid another incident of cops getting their asses kicked by a couple guys with body armor and AK-47s. Carter grips the handle of his SPAS-12 and unfolds the stock. He slides in eight shells, pumps the gun, then loads another.

Nine shells. Twelve of these pricks. Things aren't looking good. They've gotten within sixty feet now.

>>12212
Do like in that game you play after work, CoD WWA. And make a rape train and start taking shots, where when lined up, penetrating bullets hit the one behind it.

Carter opens fire, and thanks his luck he didn't have to shoot this thing in the parking garage. The first shot tears into the woman at the front of the pack, tearing her dress and midsection to shreds.

Growling with frustration, Carter pumps the shotgun again. This time he aims for her face. It bursts apart, and she falls.

They are fifty feet away now. At this rate, they will be on him by the time he finishes the job.

He fires again, and misses. Again. He his another in the head, and it drops. Ten left. Forty feet.

He has an idea; he steps to the side, trying to line up two of similar heights. He fires, shredding two heads for the price of one.

Nausea is growing in his stomach. What the fuck is he doing? Is he killing people? What the hell are these?

But then adrenaline washes back, drowning the fear and replacing it with focus.

They are thirty feet away now. He shoots another, then another. Twenty feet away. There are six left now, and he is out of shells.

He draws his Beretta and empties the magazine, killing two more. But they are grabbing at the car now, coming around it, and he can smell the stench of rot.

Hide in the car? Flee? Something else?

>>12282
They're slow as fuck. You can hold out in the parking garages obligatory security room

>>12282
lock yourself in the car, wait for the backup we called

>>12344
Second

Carter has better things to do today than die. He flings open the door and dives inside, slamming it shut behind him and locking it.

The people... the things ... start pounding at the window. He watches them. Most of them look like homeless men, but a few wear business attire. Only a couple are women.

What are they?

They do not clutch at the door handle. They simple pound angrily, hungrily. Many of their lips and teeth are bloodied, and they snarl almost constantly.

All Carter can feel is spikes of anxiety. When will they break through? The windows are bulletproof. They should last for a while. How long will these creatures last?

He realized now that he dropped the shotgun outside. He still has his Beretta, which is empty. He reloads the magazine and racks the slide. Fifteen shots. Four nutcases. The odds seem a bit more even now.

Keep waiting?

>>12562
use the radio to call HQ, ask where the backup is
then just wait, i guess

>>12562
Line up easy head shots on all four of them, retrieve the shotgun and go into a nearby building that's more defensible.

>>12586

"Where's my backup!?"

"They're about ten minutes out, Carter."

"Tell them to hurry!"

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No! Listen!"

He holds the microphone near the door, to the pounding and growling.

"What the hell is that?"

"I have no idea! They're pounding on the windows of my car, trying to get in!"

"Who are?"

"The... I don't know! Crazy people!"

"They're coming, Carter."

He clicks off the radio again, and waits, watching the fists leave smears of blood and grime on his windows.

Before long he hears sirens; two cars come around the corner at the end of the road. They screech to a halt, sirens blaring, and the people turn toward the approaching car, growling hungrily. Two officers get out of each, and almost immediately draw their pistols. Carter hears muffled shouting, then gunshots. He ducks low in his seat. The bullets fly; Carter loses track after ten shots, and there are at least a few dozen more. The growls recede from the car, and blood spatters Carter's windshield. There is a shriek of pain, then another trio of shots, then silence.

Carter gets out of the car. Two officers approach him. The third seems to be helping the fourth one dress up some minor injury. He recognizes the two that approach him as Mozzinger and Pirelli, both of them a bit shorter than him, and neither of them his friends.

"You alright Officer Briggs?"

"Barely."

"What the hell are these people?"

"I dunno."

Pirelli chuckles hollowly, probing one of the corpses with his foot.

"Took a dozen shots to put them down. You think they have vests?"

"No," said Carter, "No, they don't have vests. I don't know what the hell is going on."

"They're like fuckin' zombies man," says Pirelli.

"That's bullshit, Pirelli," says Mozzinger, rubbing his bald head, "You've been watching too many old movies."

"Whatever, man. I'm just saying that's what they act like. C'mon, Carter, let's get you back to the station. We'll call the CSI and let them clean this up."

"Alright," says Carter.

"Tow truck will get your car later."

They lead him toward their patrol car. On the way, they pass the injured cop. His friend is dressing a wound on his forearm.

"What the hell happened to him?" Carter asks.

"Oh, one of them latched down and bit him. He'll have to go to the hospital, but he should be fine."

They pass, and put Carter in the back of the patrol car.

What do you do?

Ask the other cops to turn on the radio. Maybe somebody else has received reports of something similar happening elsewhere.

>>13462
Second on this, try to make a nice theory on what happened here.

>>13325
Whelp shit get them to drop you off at the station, then go into the riot room and relax as we always do, in full body armour

>>13462
thirding

>>13949
Yeah, and our M60 with a shit ton of mags. We gotta get some kind of compensation for havin' no kind of a fuckin' new world sooped up 30k car.

>>14196
This is what we do, seems like good idea to me

>>13462
This seems like a pretty good idea.

>>13325
Is this quest dead? Thats a shame

bump?

It's alive. Sorry I have a semi-busy life so I can only post so often. It might go dead once in a while but I will make sure to bump it as much as possible so I can run it more. If it archives I promise I will start more threads.

>>24065
you could make a twitter to tell us when you run. this board is really slow but threads still have a lifespan (as they autosage after a few days)

The ride back to the police station does little to soothe Carter's newfound anxiety. He has just shot and killed a half-dozen people. Sure, they were attacking him, but it doesn't matter. He keeps seeing the woman's blank face torn away by buckshot, over and over. Aren't the nightmares supposed to wait until he's asleep?

At the station they debrief him. He explains, in clear terms, the actions of his assailants.

"You're saying, a half dozen people charged into you as you shot at them?" says Captain Davis, a man twenty years his senior. Usually a nice guy, but right now he's the biggest asshole Carter knows. You know me, Carter thinks, you know I don't make up bullshit..

"The other officers will corroborate my story," Carter says coolly.

"I believe you," says Davis, "But it is your actions that need to be accounted for. Part of your mission as an officer, is to preserve human life."

"Those things weren't human," said Carter.

Davis smirks. Carter wants to sock him in the gut.

"If they weren't human, what were they?"

"I have no clue, okay, Captain? They moved slow, they didn't talk, and one of them was eating the other. Probably high as hell off some new drug. Fucking homeless morons, they can't get a job but they have plenty of money for this hallucinogenic shit."

Davis' eyes narrow.

"You'll want to keep that kind of language to yourself at the tribunal. Personal biases open you up to litigation."

"Are you kidding me? What tribunal?"

"There might be one, Carter. You shot and killed multiple individuals. There will at least be an investigation."

Carter shakes his head.

"What was I supposed to do? Let them eat me alive?"

"I don't know, Carter. But you know the lawyers don't care about that sort of thing. Most of them haven't had to face death in their lives. Maybe if they spilled their damn lattes on themselves driving down the highway. I just don't want you ending up pecked to death for no good reason, okay?"

Carter nods.

"I'm on your side, Carter."

"I know," says Carter, "Thanks."

"Well, I see nothing else to say for now," says Davis, "I'll let you get home to Nicole."

"We ... yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Officer Briggs."

He gets up and walks out of the room. Carter follows. In the locker room, he gathers his gear, and walks out to his car. It's near midnight. Nicole's probably home by now. He wonders if he'll sleep in bed with her tonight, or spend another night on the couch. She's never forced him to sleep out there, but the silence and one-word answers are too much for him sometimes.

The cold night air wafts against his face from a faint breeze. The white parking lot lights glare down on him. A bar might be open this late. Who knows. He has a car, keys, and freedom. And he needs to get the memories of what just happened out of his head somehow.

Wat do?

>>24294
go home, even if you end up arguing with Nicole, it'll take your mind off this

>>24391

Nicole might be a pain in the ass lately, but she might be the only person Carter loves. Besides, driving drunk is not in his repertoire. He's helped clean up enough of those accidents to know better.

Halfway home he slams on the brakes as an ambulance rushes past, blaring through a light right in front of him while it's still yellow. He mutters a few choice curses under his breath, then keeps going.

He drives slow the rest of the way home. Hopefully she is asleep. Please let her be asleep. When she is asleep, there's an excuse for her silence.

He pulls up outside their small apartment. He sees her shadow in the window.

She's not asleep.

Too late now.

>>24216

They seriously need to take away that 48 hour autosage thing. I have no idea why they added it in the first place

>>24530
probably to prevent dead threads to get in the way...
btw the limit got raised to 72h, i think

>>24530
Try to talk to her

He takes his time going inside, playing the potential opening lines over and over in his head. He feels a pulse of anger. He shouldn't have to plan his conversations with her.

He creaks open the door, and closes it behind him. She is at the stove, cooking a late-night meal. He walks up, hugs her from behind.

"Hello, honey," he says, in the softest voice he can muster.

"Hi," she says flatly. She does not shrug him off, but makes no move to reciprocate. No refusal for him to seize on, yet no affection. She is infuriatingly neutral. God, how he hates it.

He walks to the fridge, pours himself a glass of milk.

"How was your day?" he asks.

"Fine."

Fuck you, he thinks. It wasn't his fault. Why was hesitation, why was talking about your differences like an adult, such a crime? Why did he have to suffer like this, for weeks now?

What do you do? Probe the subject of argument? Leave it alone for tonight? Try to bring it up in some passive aggressive way? Something else?

>>24804
might as well rip out the bandaid...
be brave, be blunt

>>24804
Try asking about her day? Maybe she's felt lonely and estranged.

Last post for tonight cause it's 12:25 here. If thread dies I will make a new one, and I will save all storytext in a google doc which I will have public for you guys to view. Unless there is a shorter place to store text and update it without fuckhuge Gdocs URLs.

"You get any interesting people in the ER today? Another kid with a battery up his nose trying to give himself more brainpower?" Carter chuckles to himself.

"Not really," says Nicole, walking over to the sink and draining pasta into a colander.

Carter sighs.

"Nicole, is this over?"

"What?"

"I need to know if this is over, so I can find a new place and get on with my life."

"It's ... it's ... I don't want to talk about it right now, Carter."

"Well, too bad, because we have to," says Carter.

"I want kids, you don't," said Nicole, "That's pretty hard to reconcile."

"So... what? We're done? Nicole, I need to know. It'll hurt, but I need to hear it and I can't deal with this silence shit anymore."

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, we're not over. I just need time to think."

"Fine," says Carter, "But at least try talking to me while you do, alright?"

She looks at him. Her green eyes meet his. He really does love her.

Something beeps and buzzes on the counter. Her pager. She picks it up.

"They cannot need you right now!"

"They do," says Nicole, "It's been quiet all evening, Carter. I can't complain."

"What is it?"

She reads the code.

"Animal bite? It says it's a unique case though."

She looks at him, puzzled.

"Well, I should be back within an hour," she says, picking up her purse.

"Alright," says Carter as she heads for the door.

What do you do?

>>25518
warn her about what you assume is a new drug that the hobos took last night, could explain the "unique" bite

and for the archival i guess ou can use pastebin or suptg

>>25518
here's how you archive
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/requestqstinterface.html?

>>25518
Watch the news on the tv? It'll help us unwind and maybe there will be a story about a new drug craze?

"Hey, Nicole, wait."

"What?"

"It's... did they say who was bitten?"

"No, it's just a code."

"Maybe you should call them."

"Why?"

"Look..."

Suddenly, it feels too ridiculous to explain right now. A bubble of hesitation wells up in his throat and seizes his words.

"Just be careful. We've gotten a lot of reports of homeless men biting people. Some kind of hallucinogenic drug, or something, it's setting these people into a frenzy."

"Okay?"

Her puzzled face makes him sigh.

"Never mind. Just go."

"Okay. I love you."

She hasn't said that in several weeks.

"I love you too, Nicole. Bye."

She walks out the door. A moment later, her car hums to life, and the headlights pierce the blinds and leave lines of light on the wall. Then she is gone.

Carter sinks onto the couch and turns on the news. He slides his feet, then his legs under the comforter.

The news is boring, the same usual garbage. He feels himself sinking into sleep; but then something catches his eye.

"Four Chinese dockworkers found partially eaten"

He scrabbles for the remote, turning up the volume.

"Today four workers were found dead at the Pian Ying docks in Beijing. Their bodies were found partially eaten, and several attackers were shot by police at the scene. Two officers were injured in the incident, but are expected to survive."

Was this happening somewhere else, too?

He felt his eyes grow shut, felt his arms grow heavy. Even the lights he'd left on felt like no barrier to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow there would be some answers.

>>30395
Is there gonna be an episode 2?

File: Rise of the Dead Quest.pdf (1B, 486x500px)

1B, 486x500px

>>36831

Definitely will be an episode 2. I would prefer they remove the autosage feature, I wish threads could last longer like on ate-chan. But honestly that's just a board traffic thing. I don't know why they added the autosage, but whatever.

I'll start the next episode in a couple days once my finals are over. I should have more free time then,so I can actually run a quest consistently. I don't know how active the guy is supposed to be, if you're supposed to be there liek 3 hours at a time or over several days.

Anyway have a PDF of the story so far.

>>37494
They added the auto sage because people were worried about threads just getting zero activity and then sitting on the board for a year