>>28275751

'A full body suit. Like a wolf. He was trying to play a werewolf.'

'But... why?' Dear god, she doesn't know *anything*, does she?

'It's just for the heck of it. But that's the point. He is weird. And-' the phrase to come chokes, hanging on to your throat and clawing at your palate, but you force it out. 'And you're weird. But you're both cool with me. So I'm cool with you.'

'You don't know how weird I am,' Elina murmurs. You notice her hand is crawling towards the meat, as if to... what, use her hands to eat?

'And meanwhile, a bunch of normal people beat the fuck out of me and cracked my rib yesterday. And call me freako every day, and say that I'm a pervert, and disgusting, and make me eat slugs every now and then.' They've also done other things, but you won't talk about them yet. Even with Elina, these are not things to be mentioned, for now. 'If that's normal, I'm fine with not normal.'

'Stan...' she drags out the only vowel in your name, Staaan, as if asking something of you. A little tremor runs down your spine at that. 'Don't you ever... fight back? Hit them back?'

> Say she can use her hands if you want to. Show you're perceptive too.
> Yes. Of course.
> I want to do *more* than hit them back, often.
> What can I do? I can't beat four people at a time.
> Other.

>>28275800
>> What can I do? I can't beat four people at a time.

Then

>> Say she can use her hands if you want to. Show you're perceptive too.

>>28275800
>> What can I do? I can't beat four people at a time.

>>28275818
>>28275829

'I...' your fingers tighten around the cutlery, feeling their handles pushing back into your thin palms. Look at these hands, Elina! You've got the hands of a little pussy. You've got the hands of someone who's been forced to mewl like a cat, or squeal like a pig, or squawk like a monkey, ever since you were 14 or so. You've spent three years being shat upon. 'Well, I... look...'

'Stan. Why?'

Like a little bubble, the rage again rises, expanding as it does until it shows in your face. Elina's eyebrow rises again as you glare at her.

'Fight back how? You say fight back like it's one person. There's four of them. Sometimes more. What can I do? I can't fight four people. I can't even fight one of those people. They fight all the time.'

You thump the table, feeling it vibrate. That's one thing you can beat. You beat it again. 'I can't do anything. It's not something I want. But it's not something I can stop.'

'The only person who can stop it is you, Stan,' Elina replies, calmly.

'That's easy to say. Also, use your hands if you want.'

Her eyes widen, and she looks down and grips the meat gingerly. 'If you want help fighting them, maybe I can help you. But you must do it, Stan. You must do it.'

You can't think of anything to say for some moments, so you watch her grip the meat with both hands, and then tear a chunk off with her teeth. Fat and juices smear her lips slightly as she swallows the meat. She still looks unimpressed.

> What do you say to that, Stan? Elina looks deadly serious and yet deadly calm, as she usually does.

>>28275947

'How will you help me?'

Watch her eat. Do we have anything at home we can do other than eating? Games on laptop?

>>28275947
Ask her what she can do to help.

>>28276105

Well... you can watch TV, and you have some games on your computer.

You also have a Funstation, but it's a FS1, it's older than Shakespeare, and you've only got a few games for it. Not even sure the thing works anymore.

>>28275947
"Why? Sure maybe I make these four stop hurting me, but what does that actually accomplish? World is still gonna suck."

>>28276214
>>28276114
>>28276105

'Well, how would you help me?' The meat has suddenly become less flavourful, partly due to the conversation's tenor. You'd really much rather not talk about these things over a nice lunch, but... Elina looks up, still chewing.

'I could... teach you to fight. I could teach you how to beat people.'

'To fight so well I can beat four people?'

'You don't have to *beat* all four, Stan. Men are cattle.' Elina puts down the steak with a wet flop. 'All you have to do is to beat a single one of them. You just have to attack one. And attack him so hard he will remember it for the rest of his life. Isn't that what they're trying to do to you? They want you to remember them. You just have to do the same. And when one of them remembers it, the rest will fear you also. They will have nightmares about you.'

'But why would I want that? Even if the four of them stop beating me. Even if I-' you suddenly realise the viciousness of Elina's instructions. 'Even if I make them remember me all their lives. So what? The world will still suck.'

'Do you really care about the world?' She looks down, then with a sigh pushes the plate away and goes to wash her hands.

> What do/say, Stan?
> Do you want to let Elina stay around a while more? You can tell, after all, that even if her advice is a bit... weird, she does care for you. You've been around long enough to tell when people are faking concern, much of the time. And Elina isn't faking. You don't think.

>>28276588
Let her stay around. Ask her if she wants to watch tv or if she plays computer games.

>>28276588
>> What do/say, Stan?
Accept her offer. It's not like we have anything better to do.

>>28276734
Change this to >>28276790
Time to learn how to fight. *Cue training montage with eye of the tiger in the background*

>>28276588
> Let her stay. Encourage it, even.
"Tell, you what, I'll think about it, ok? At the very least, I've got to come up with a way to do it that doesn't get me expelled. Mom'd have kittens. Wanna watch a movie? Or play some funstation?"

>>28276734
>>28276790
>>28276830
>>28276844

The long silence is only punctuated by the sound of water flowing over her hands. You watch the meat, lying there on her plate, and a thought comes to you. Wait, what if it's...

... it isn't, though. Only beef marbles like that, doesn't it? It can't... it can't be, right?

Elina comes back and sits at the table again, just looking at you. Are there other words for what her eyes look like? Amber, perhaps - amber with a little bit of night-black in their middle. They flit about a little even when she's staring. You probably ought to be afraid; it's the same way they stare at you, sometimes, when they want to intimidate you. Like that time they made you wear the girls' uniform and do a little pirouette, on video. Everyone was laughing, except for the real bullies. They stared, and stared.

But you don't feel fear. She's not watching for you to slip up. She's watching over you. Probably. Maybe. Finally, you crack, and sigh.

> cont'd.

>>28277197

'Look. I... I can accept your offer. But we'll need to think up a way to do it that doesn't get me into deep shit.'

'What do you mean?' How is she so isolated she doesn't even know consequences? And yet that innocence is almost enviable. Maybe that's what bullies are about, too. They don't *need* to consider what comes next. Maybe Elina is the ultimate bully? Top of the food chain?

'I mean, I could get expelled if I beat the shit out of someone, right? And then Mom would go nuts. And then everyone would hate me, and...'

'Is that bad?'

To your surprise, you can't think of a major way in which it would be bad. Your mouth opens, then closes. Well, upsetting Mom is bad. But other than that... what, freedom from school and no change in social position, that's bad?

You shake your head to change the subject. 'Look. Okay. Do you want to watch a movie, or play Funstation? Do you play Funstation?'

'What's that?'

Oh god, you- forget it. You run off and grab the box from the store-room, then spend the next five minutes trying to plug it in. Red is for video... yellow for sound... 'Okay. Fucking done.'

Where's Elina? She's in your room, standing dumbly in front of the window, staring at the rain coming down. Her shoulders, you notice, are skinny and slightly sloped. Silhouetted in the pale light, she looks almost... weak, like she's sapped of something, staring out and longing for it.

> Choose a violent game.
> Choose a nice, cutesy game.
> Choose a manic but non-bloody game.
> Go and talk to her in the room.
> Go and hug her.
> Other.

>>28277281
>> Go and talk to her in the room.

>>28277281
> Go and talk to her in the room.
Walk, put hand on shoulder, "Hey, you still with us?" Return any and all hugs that she initiates. Else, talk to her or let her change/drop the subject. When it comes to it, give a brief description of each game and let her pick.

>>28277281
>> Go and talk to her in the room.

If she wants to play a video game choose a violent one.

>>28277293
>>28277424

Seriously... getting up and leaving the FS1 loading screen (oh man, the memories), you go into the room. Surely she knows you're here, given how sharp she normally us, but she doesn't move, just staring out the window at the grey, weak light filtering in.

'Elina? Hey, you still here?'

When she doesn't reply, you reach out slowly and put your hand, as lightly as you can, on her shoulder. For a moment it seems like she's about to shrug you off, but then suddenly she grabs your hand, turns around and pulls you into an embrace, arms wrapping around your neck. It's nice she remembers your ribs are bruised, well...

She smells a little of fat, of raw, cold flesh, and of... it's a smell you can't really identify. A little citrusy, perhaps. Her body is rather chilly, and you can feel all the bones in her back, shoulderblade, spine and ribs, through her shirt.

'Please don't mind that I'm weird,' she murmurs into your shoulder. You suddenly hear, or maybe feel, a kind of... tremor... a rumbling, a growling, in your bones, and know instinctively it's from her. Why is she growling?

'I wanted to ask you what games you want to play.' When she eases off you, it must be just two seconds, but it feels like eternity. 'I've got Guts Fighter, which is pretty gory.'

'Ugh,' she says, to your surprise.

'Oh. Okay. How about Bish Bash Bosh Mania?'

'What's that?'

What it is, is a crazy button mashing game where you do silly things like try to throw a custard pie, make a burger, or escape prison by pretending to be a rubbish bin. Sitting her down, you run her through the controls, and then start the game.

> cont'd.

>>28277739

'Right,' you say as the first stage loads, watching Elina's eyes - wide and focused on the screen. Japanese text flashes in waves on a bright pink screen, and then she winces, but for you, muscle memory is taking over. You have no idea what the moonspeak is about, but you just know it's the PIE DODGING STAGE.

'Uh... what do I do?'

'Okay, okay. Left to move left, right to move right, X to jump! And the O is for something, I can't remember.'

'Ummm...' she fumbles around with the controller a little, and then promptly dies two seconds later. Then you realise she's holding the damn thing upside down, and turn it over. She grips it tightly, and then...

Woah. You watch as the little person in a ridiculous afro wig jumps deftly from one end of the screen to another, dodging a whole bunch of multicoloured pies being flung by several cats, dogs, and antelope at the top of the screen. Every time the afro dude jumps a few, he does a disco pose.

'What... pfft... pfftHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-'

You blink and turn to Elina, slumped back against the sofa in gigglefits as her thumbs continue to work at the controller, her entire face contorted with laughter. Her teeth are... pretty screwy, you realise, crooked here and there. Even when she's not looking, the afro dude dodges like ten more pies before finally getting green cream in the face.

'YOU GOT--- PANDAAAAAAAN!!!!' Announces the screen, and Elina utterly loses it, flinging the controller to you and choking with laughter.

'Oh... oh man!'

Looks like you've made a good choice, you. You've never seen her laughing like this, her slight frame quaking as she tries to draw breath, and it makes you giggle too. You try the next stage but die after making like 2 pizzas, and she finds that hilarious too.

> Do/say anything, Stan? Or just spend the afternoon playing?

>>28277964
>Spend the afternoon playing.

>>28277964

Sit closer to her, see if she snuggles up while in a good mood.

Ask if we should skip school tomorrow and do this again.

>>28277964
> Spend the afternoon playing.
She doesn't seem like the type to have days like this often, and we certainly aren't. Do NOTHING to spoil this.
>>28278068
Cuddling us ok.

> Typing.

>>28278184
>>28278068
>>28278009

Watching her curled up and laughing, you feel something stirring inside you - a little bit of hunger, too, perhaps, a little longing. Certainly your body is reacting, though you are well aware that this is very inappropriate. It's cushion on lap time, looks like!

This is odd. In school, there's Sofia, and maybe one or two other girls, who make you go a little hard when you think about them. But at the same time there's always the knowledge you'd never get anywhere with the lot. And that you probably shouldn't even try. But now... finally she sits up and takes the controller, wiping her eyes. 'Wait, don't you have one of these?'

'If I play, I'm playing against you.'

'Oh, let's do that!'

You suspect you are hopelessly outmatched, and it turns out you're right. How does a girl who's never played this game have this sort of reflexes? Once she figures out the controls, there's something instinctual about the way she plays, and as you stumble through the PRISON PATROL, and the PASTAMANIA, and the DOWNHILL RUN, and the PIG POT PIE stages, she consistently beats the shit out of you.

In the best way possible.

> cont'd.

>>28278398

Steeling yourself, as you continue through another few stages and Elina continues to helplessly giggle her way to victory after victory, you shift a little on the couch, then a little, then a little more, until your leg is almost pressing against hers. Then you lose the BUMPER BOMB BONANZA stage, and Elina promptly flops onto you when a bomb takes out your car and she wins.

'Oh... oh what is this HAHAHAHA...' She gasps, lightly slapping your shoulder as she laugh-cries, and you swear the cushion is getting lifted off your lap. Placing an arm on it, you sit very still, letting her lean on you.

Well, Stan, looks like you've finally had a little good fortune.

Thinking that, as it usually does, proves to be your downfall. Two stages later, you gain your first victory in the PENCIL PRESS PANIC stage, hammering all the buttons until you force 12 pencil leads out and win. 'Yes! YES!' You yell, triumphantly pumping your fists at the ceiling, and then looking at the screen.

Elina's at 4. That's odd.

You then turn to look at Elina, and what you see makes all the joy of the last two or three hours drain away. She is gripping the controller so tightly her knuckles have gone white, sitting as if rooted to the spot. Her whole body rises and falls as she takes deep, fast breaths, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as if she's seen - or is seeing - something horrible.

'Wait... Elina?'

You then hear the growling again, since you're almost snuggled up to her - feel it in your bones, a terrible, slow creaking sound, like an entire house about to come apart under strain. Fuck. What the fuck is this?

'I... I need to go,' she murmurs.

> Ask about why.
> Try to help her.
> Get her out ASAP.
> Other.

> Do anything for the rest of the day? Are you going to school tomorrow? You were about to ask the question but then this happened...

>>28278568
>> Try to help her.

Also, I thought it was friday today.

>>28278622

> Today's Thursday. One more day of school. Fucking hell, mate.

>>28278568
> Offer help, but do not try and stop her. Make sure she gets inside her apt.
You know what we're doing in about 20min, after the fear recedes, leaving behind all those other thoughts.
Fuck school tomorrow.

>>28278659
In that case skip school.

>>28278568
>Try to help her.

>>28278622
>>28278666
>>28278687
>>28278712

'What...' you get on your feet, and nothing comes to mind but stupid questions. 'Are you okay?'

Yep, that was a pretty dumb question, wasn't it? LOOK AT HER, STAN. Shakily, she tosses the controller aside and tries to get to her feet. 'I need to go, now,' Elina whispers. 'I must go...'

'Right, okay, let me help you-'

Knowing she's fine with you touching her - she must be like the first or second person to be fine like this - you move and grip her shoulders. Holy shit! They're hard as stone now, and cold to the touch; and at the same time Elina seems to have become very light. But you don't expect what comes next. As you try to pull her up, you hear the growl again, and her arms move -

- and suddenly there's a burst of pain, not in your front but in your back, as you are shoved back into the wall, your head knocking with a resounding THUNK against the concrete wall. FUCK! Ow! Pain bursts all over your body, followed by a feeling of horrible, helpless weakness as your knees buckle and you fall onto the ground limply.

You look up, panting to get some air back in your lungs, and watch helplessly as Elina gives you a stare. Her eyes seem to be on fire. Then she turns and runs, pulls the door open and slams it loudly behind her, so loudly it rings in your ears.

What... what was that? Did she really push you... away? Your face feels wet; it turns out to be tears, probably from the agony that's still wracking your body. Slowly, you pick yourself back up.

'Shit,' you mutter, as if with someone else's voice. 'Fuck...'

> What do after this?
> Or, if you just want to take a nap or be your usual NEET by desire, you can timeskip...

>>28278925
Take it easy for a bit and relax on the couch, but stay alert for any uncommon noise

>>28278925
>> What do after this?

Treat our bruises and go to bed.

>>28278925
We should probably go lay down.

>>28278925
>>28279001
This, but also check our pupils in the mirror. We've got some experience with concussions. Going to bed doesn't really mean sleeping, though. Lie there with our thoughts and listen to the rain (and >>28278979 strange noises).

>>28278979
>>28279001
>>28279021
>>28279099

A terrible, cracking pain lights up in your back when you try to sit up, and for a few terrified moments you wonder if Elina accidentally broke your spine when she pushed you. But then you can move your legs, so it's probably not the spine itself...

Why are you so physically weak, Stan? Look how bloody useless you are. Even a scrawny girl like Elina can do so much damage to you. How will you ever fight back?

It takes nearly five minutes before you get up again, wincing as you iron out the little knots of sensation that still crackle and sting, and then stumble out. Initially you think it might be good to just lie down on the couch, but... but why is Elina like this? Maybe it's best to go to your bedroom and lie down, and listen out.

Unable to sleep, you strain your ears, trying to find your way past the raindrops and the cars and the people yelling and calling each other outside, finding the one thing that matters - whether the girl downstairs is okay.

> What do you think of Elina?
> Roll d100.

Rolled 77

>>28279276

Rolled 59

>>28279276

Rolled 41

>>28279276
Well, she did warn us she was weird. Cute though, when she doesn't have that tear-you-limb-from-limb look in her eyes. And even then...

Rolled 50

>>28279276

She's strange, but she's cool. And possibly a psychopath or something.

Rolled 19

>>28279276
She eats bloody meat,
she has very good reflexes
almost impossible strength for a body of that size
sudden attack of uncontrollable emotion.

Check if there's a fullmoon tonight

>>28279416
>>28279389
>>28279382
>>28279344
>>28279333

> 77: success!

As you lie there, motionless, the demons of sleep begin attacking you, nibbling endlessly at your extremities. But no. No, you have to make sure she's okay.

But how is this making sure Elina's okay? There's almost nothing you can do for Elina, Stan. Worthless. Except you're *not* worthless. You took a weird, almost emotionless person, sat her in front of the Funstation, and made her giggle like- well, like a little girl. She enjoyed it, right? Other people might smile a bit just to make you feel better, if they wanted to disguise their disgust for you. But precisely because Elina doesn't need to consider that shit, she must be honest.

You're doing okay, maybe. Maybe. Fight the sleep.

And then - you hear it. The door slams shut downstairs, but it's been too long since she left; she must have been home by now. Kelvin, then? Was that Kelvin? You freeze, listening, and then you hear Elina's voice again. Again speaking in her native gobbledygook.

> cont'd.

Oh yeah it's Swedish, you forgot. She's talking loudly, as if she's giving orders. But then this time Kelvin isn't quiet. You start a little when he yells - he has a loud voice, booming, like a gym teacher. It's in Swedish too.

Elina yells back. Then Kelvin yells back again. And then, suddenly, your blood runs cold when you hear a loud THUMP, followed by a short squeak, as if of pain. And then something made of glass smashes. He yells again. She yells. SMASH. She yells. THUMP.

Your eyes begin to flash with dizziness as you hyperventilate. The argument seems to go on forever, and then suddenly there is another THUMP, and the door slams. And in its wake, you hear someone crying, a girl. That's all Elina is, after all - a girl.

On a hunch, you crawl to your laptop, remembering Jeremy's former obsession with werewolves. What if... they're real? What if...

...

... no, it's not the full moon tonight...

> Attempt to sleep.
> Go downstairs and see what's happened.
> Have a wank or something.
> Life goes on, man. Make dinner, sleep, go to school tomorrow. Get beaten up, maybe.
> Other.

>>28279598
>> Go downstairs and see what's happened.

Do it discretely. Then go and make some dinner.

>>28279598
Sneak downstairs and see if you can get a glimpse of what happened

>>28279598
> Check the window
Can we see anyone outside? Can we see Elina's window? And where does it sound oike tge crying is coming from, inside or outside?

>>28279760
>oike tge
Yep, bedtime's coming up
Like the**

>>28279793
>>28279760
>>28279758
>>28279703

You lean out the window, the adrenaline chasing away your pain - get over it already, Stan - and try to look down at Elina's window, which must be directly under yours. But then you see that it's all blocked with curtains, heavy, deep red curtains.

Still, it's possible to hear the crying vaguely from where you are. Shit. The possibilities race through your mind. Elina's strong, but maybe Kelvin is even stronger. Or maybe she doesn't dare fight against him? Maybe he's smashed something on her. What if she got glassed while he's in a rage?

Shit. Shit shit shit. You could bleed to death from something like that! Throwing on your clothes, you jog out, about to go downstairs, when you turn around and notice Kelvin, his back turned to you, again looking to cross the road. Reflexively you hide behind a pillar and watch. He's wearing... he's wearing a jacket and jeans, and boots. And he has both a backpack and a long duffel bag. That's a lot of stuff to carry.

Where is he going? You wait until he crosses the road, jogging and trotting along, then go downstairs. Water is still going drip, drip, drip into an eternal puddle, and the whole place gleams with moisture. The door, you now notice, is actually warped from water around its bottom.

There's crying from inside. It's Elina. It must be Elina. There's no one else, right?

> Best not to disturb her. She shoved you away after all.
> Knock and ask. She's your friend, for god's sake.
> Other.

> Whatever you do now, you no longer feel sleepy; looks like it's make dinner, sleep a little, and get ready to skip classes tomorrow time.
> Any changes in plans are welcome as well, if you would like.

>>28279943
>Knock and ask. She's your friend, for god's sake

>>28279943
>> Knock and ask. She's your friend, for god's sake.

>>28279943
Knock and ask if she's alright

>>28279943
>Knock and ask. She's your friend, for god's sake.
But tell her that it's fine if she just wants you to bugger off.

>>28280056
>>28280052
>>28279974
>>28280083

> Okay. It's lunchtime for me.
> I'll be back in a while. Thanks for playing, people! You're awesome.
> Is the quest tone fine, so far?

You go up, raise your hand, but then pause. The look of horror in Elina's eyes when she was staring - the way she pushed you away - was it an expression of hatred, of suddenly treating you like an enemy after two hours of enjoyable, silly gaming?

It can't be, right? You don't think you've done anything to deserve that (though god knows people get things they don't deserve all the time). So what was it then? Maybe... maybe fear?

Well, fuck it. You knock on the door, which actually moves palpably when you rap on it, and then listen as the crying abruptly stops. 'Elina? Elina, are you okay?'

The silence seems even more unnerving, somehow, than the crying. It's like she's suddenly vaporised. For five, ten seconds it continues. Then you knock again.

'Elina. If you want me to go away just say so, I don't mind. But please tell me you're okay. Please.'

> cont'd.

>>28280220


... still nothing. But just before you try again, a soft, weak voice - Elina's whisper voice - comes from inside. You don't know how it travels, but it does.

'I'm fine. Please go away. I'll be okay...'

Well, that's it then. It's something you can't do anything about, must be. But even though you said it's fine, the sense of slight dejection stays with you as you go back home and look at her unfinished steak. Too good to waste...

... you slice that up and fry it a little, and eat it with nuked potatoes, which fills you up. But even though the meat is still very good meat, it all tastes like ashes and wood chips in your mouth. Ugh.

'The only one who can help you is yourself, Stan,' you remember her saying. Well, she's right in this respect...

> It's only 7. The sky outside is dark. People must be coming out to the pubs and to party soon, seeing as it's Thursday night.
> Do you want to maybe go out?
> Maybe clean the house a bit?
> Or fuck it, just faff around and then sleep. Elina's in trouble and you can't help. Life sucks...

>>28280220
Thanks for runinng!

>>28280281

> Oh, didn't see you before... but welcome!
> I'll be back in a while.

>>28280240

Go out for a stroll

>>28280240
>> Maybe clean the house a bit?

>>28280240
> Maybe clean the house a bit?
> Or fuck it, just faff around and then sleep. Elina's in trouble and you can't help. Life sucks...
Mix of these. Half-hearted cleaning until bored.

>>28280220
The tone is lovely.

>>28280335
>>28280382

Second these two.

Am thinking maybe we should start making some changes. Either become more sociable, or train ourselves to be stronger.

>>28280317
>>28280335
>>28280382
>>28280794

After the meal, you gaze around at your house, which is a dismaying expression of messiness. Damn. It was okay like this if it was just Mom, you, and sometimes Aunt Serena or a distant relative whom you couldn't give two shits about.

But when Elina comes again... well, *if* Elina were to come again... A voice tells you not to bother, given what she's done to you and how she is now. But then you try to think a little more positively. Look. Elina is cool with you, kinda. She probably doesn't like you, but she's willing to come in and stay around. That's good.

The next time she comes-

There won't be a next time-

> cont'd.

>>28281067


The next time she comes, you really ought to show her a clean house that doesn't smell stale. Besides, what if she can smell other things, like what you get up to in the bedroom?

You blink. Positive Voice does make a good point. Your room probably smells like cum... and she was *in* it. Fuck! Okay. Okay.

Washing the dishes, you then try to get cleaning. Your clothes need to go into the laundromat bag. Then you have to change your bedsheets. They must have been the same ones for a month, dear god. Then there's the floor, and you've got the windows as well, all greased up from your fingers and disgusting...

The list you set for yourself is a bit too long, and your motivation a little too weak after what happened in the afternoon. It's silent downstairs now. And cold. Eventually you do get the clothes in, and the bedsheets changed, but then it gets too tiring and you end up in front of the TV, wondering whether to wank or to play the Funstation.

Elina's words and presence echo in your mind, though. Maybe you ought to do something about yourself. Become more sociable, maybe. Or just... or just become stronger. Scarier. Or something.

> Resolve on socialising.
> Resolve on serious learning.
> Resolve on fighting back, and revenge.

In the short term:

> Play Funstation. (Violent game? Or that one Elina was playing?)
> Wank and sleep.
> Go sleep.
> Other.

>>28281096
Resolve on fighting back

Do pushups and go to sleep

>>28281096
Resolve on revenge, mastermind style. Working out will come, but right now we've a busted rib. Right now we plot.
But first, wank and sleep.

>>28281200

This. And maybe for now we become more sociable while plotting.

We need people to think we've turned around somehow and are okay. Then we destroy them.

Wank and sleep.

>>28281096
> Resolve on serious learning.
why hurt them fiscally if we can mentally scar them for life!
> Play Funstation. (Violent game? Or that one Elina was playing?)
The one that Elina was playing

>>28281139
>>28281200
>>28281234
>>28281242

> Seems like a bit of a tie in terms of revenge, fighting back, becoming sociable or learning.
> Would you mind if I rolled to decide, or wait for a consensus?

>>28281299
Go ahead and roll

>>28281299
It seems like serious learning is the majority, but I wouldn't mind a roll either

Rolled 3

>>28281242
>>28281234
>>28281200
>>28281139

Work done for now, you lie back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, and your right hand wanders, almost like some fantasy lover's hand, onto your lap and then into your shorts. Your appendage has gone back to sleep from the fright and fear just now, but a little of its drool is still around, from when Elina was leaning against you.

Man, sexual frustration is gross. You wipe your hand and then go back to wake yourself up anyway, trying to summon up some arousing images mentally. You try to think of Sofia, who once came to school with her blouse knotted off just under those full, tanned tits. That Korean girl called Hyeon or something - man, her legs and figure.

So many beautiful, pretty girls - on this Thursday night, you think as you work yourself up, each and every one of them must be doing something. Probably getting drunk. Probably getting fucked, even. Your hand keeps moving, but the images don't come very strongly this time - you find yourself unable to imagine Sofia getting fucked, or Minnie, or Hyeon, or any of those others you've noticed. And when the images do appear...

Still, physical movement is often enough for the body, and before long you tense a little and reach to catch all the fluids, watching them slosh in your hand. Meh. That was... meh. A sort of wall, of decency perhaps, prevents you from accessing the new images in your mind. But that wasn't much of anything at all.

Wiping it off, you think about what Elina said. You have to fight back. You have to. But how? You can't outpunch them. Elina will teach you that. You must defend yourself. And then... and then you will hurt them in other ways. Maybe you ought to be more sociable. Then people will listen to you.

*People*. It feels like you're being asked to climb Mount Everest in your pants. Try to talk to Sofia? Really? But... but Elina will help, no? And Jeremy too, maybe. This can be done.

You drop into bed and sigh.

'This must be done.'

> Roll d100.

Rolled 60

>>28281480

Rolled 87

>>28281480

Rolled 51

>>28281480

>>28281541
>>28281527
>>28281522

In your dream there is snow, again snow - one, one and a half, two feet of the stuff, coming up to your knees with every single step, drips of water soaking through your shoes, wetting the denim fabric and even your long johns. You raise your leg, lower it with a *schok*, then again. Then again.

In the distance there is a copse of pine trees, and other trees. The pines are green, but the others are stark black and bare, their branches reaching futilely into the steel-grey sky. They're growing there because they're next to a stream.

The stream is putting forth clouds of steam, because it's made of hot blood - hot, roiling, gushing and spilling over the rocks and banks where it becomes a disgusting black sludge. But it doesn't smell of anything. It's all clean, for some reason. There's someone next to it, on a tree stump, fishing.

You go closer, and a grin spreads on your lips. When Elina sees you, she grins too - and the grin seems all the brighter now that she's in her natural habitat. Her fishing rod is wedged between her thighs. 'Stan! Come on!'

That grin. How do you refuse? You sit down on the stump next to her, and pick up a stick. It's a rod. It's got a line, and a sharp, wicked looking hook. You glance at Elina. 'Do you catch anything? The river looks foul.'

She nods. 'The catch can be nice, sometimes.' Then she shoves a metal tray at you, and the movement makes everything on the tray begin to wriggle and writhe and squirm. Oh fuck. They're maggots, they're huge, one inch long maggots twisting and oozing blindly about.

> Take maggot and hook it, then fish.
> I'm... I'm not doing that.
> Other.

>>28281677
> Take maggot and hook it, then fish.

>>28281677
Hook the maggot

Rolled 53

>>28281677
>> Take maggot and hook it, then fish.

>>28281677
It's fishin' time.

File: 1384417774644.gif-(741 KB, 900x900, white-maggots_1.gif)

741 KB GIF

>>28281774
>>28281748
>>28281735
>>28281698

Oh god, just looking at the fucking things makes you want to hurl. The fact that they've got little marks on them just makes them even more disgusting. But Elina is looking at you. 'You can't fish without these, Stan,' she says, gently.

'I... okay, okay. Let me...' Oh *god* they begin wriggling around your fingers the moment you stretch in, as if your flesh is itself an attractive scent and they're trying to climb onto it and gorge on you. You take a sharp breath, and your fingers eventually swim through the writhing mass and picks out out, which you pull out. 'Fuck, this one's big! Uh, sorry to swear...'

'It's fine.' Elina takes the tray away, allowing you to put the maggot down, and then you hook it. There's a little give, as the maggot wriggles even harder, seeming to understand what's about to happen. Then it begins spinning as you impale it, driving steel through the watery insides. If it could scream, it probably would.

Then you drop it into the blood stream. 'So do you fish here a lot?'

'Mmhmm. I have to do it to survive.'

'You can only eat blood?' You chuckle. 'Man, I was wondering if you're a vampire!'

That remark gets you a little slap on the arm. 'I'm *not*. I'm really not, okay?'

'Okay, fine. No need to be defensive.'

Elina smiles, and just then your rod begins to twitch, and both of you glance at it. 'Oh, oh is it-'

'Wait. Wait... now, PULL!'

You tug on the rod and sense the hook setting in the fish, dooming it. Yes! Yes! Ye-

Then suddenly it is night again, a warm, drizzling night, and you're in your room. You've heard a noise outside, though. It's a thump. Then it's a few more thumps, and then the sound of wet plastic thrashing about. Like someone trying to haul a heavy garbage bag around in the rain.

> Meh. It's nothing.
> Get up and listen.
> Go out and investigate.
> Other.

>>28281883
>> Get up and listen.

>>28281883
Try looking through the window and see if you can see anything, if not go back to sleep.

>>28281883

Listen. Check the window too.

>>28281883
>Get up and listen.
And try to watch. Do not turn on the lights, yhose hellish white streetlamps are enough.

>>28281914
>>28281919
>>28281969
>>28281982

You sit up in bed, feeling a prickle of fear - but also of curiosity. It's... it's 2 in the morning now. It's not Mom, that's for sure; it's headed for the staircase.

Thump. Crinkle crinkle slap splash, thump.

Going to the window, you try to lean as much as you can without opening the window and giving yourself away. It's enough, though, as it is, because the person you see emerging from the foggy gloom, walking past your window towards the entrance to your estate, is none other than Kelvin. Oh god.

Oh GOD he's looking this way-

You hide, but peek out a little nonetheless. Thankfully he's only glancing around. But you clearly remember that he's wearing different clothes from what he was wearing just now when he went out. Maybe he did sports and then changed? Or would that be too charitable an explanation for a pot bellied 50 year old?

But then all thought of charitable explanations disappears when you see what he's dragging. It is, indeed, a large garbage bag; but after you look at it for a few seconds, it begins thrashing about, splashing water from the puddles on the walkway. Kelvin swears, his lips moving, and then turns around and gives the bag a hard kick, which seems to quieten it...

It's alive, is the only thing flashing through your mind now. It's in the bag. It's alive. It's ALIVE. MOVING. What is Kelvin doing? What is-

Then, suddenly, you hear something. Barking. One, then three, then a few more dogs are barking. Kelvin turns around, looking very nervous, and then begins walking quickly, into the estate entrance...

> ... You didn't see that. You didn't see that. You didn't see that.
> Go out and confront Kelvin.
> Go out, sit down, listen.
> Other.

>>28282181
>> Go out, sit down, listen.

>>28282181
>Go out, sit down, listen

>>28282181
>> Go out, sit down, listen.

Too late to stop now.

>>28282181
> You're still dreaming Stan. Go back to bed.
> Or, go outside, because dreams can't put you in a bag and kick you, right?

>>28282236
>>28282257
>>28282295
>>28282302

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

So Kelvin is... is what? Well, it could be anything in the bag. If it's human, then of course... but of course what? What would that make him? What would *he* make Elina? Nothing makes sense at all...

Stumbling out into the hall, you walk over to the door and lean next to it, trying to hear any noise you can. For a long while you can hear rasping, plastic against floor. Then thump, thump, thump - that must be Kelvin taking the bag downstairs. Each thump leads to some thrashing, though after 10 thumps it sounds quite muted.

If Kelvin is a serial murderer, why does he not kill them and leave them in the woods? Your breathing weakens as you think of Cath. Your sister wasn't hauled into anyone's house in a bag, right? Just... just dismembered out in the wild, right? I mean, *right*??

> cont'd.

>>28282472


But then a sound makes you stop. It's Elina's voice. And she's yelling something. She sounds... shocked. Why is she still awake?

Kelvin says something in reply, in Swedish, and then Elina yells again. You lean a little closer to the door, wanting perhaps to be closer to the source of that voice, but suddenly there is a tearing sound and a shriek that almost makes you yell out loud. You start, blood draining from all your body, and then slump back, ears still listening - listening to someone screaming, shouting.

'OH GOD PLEASE DON'T, PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T! DON'T HURT ME...'

Half hollering and half weeping, the voice gets closer to you, accompanied by patters of feet on the steps. Despite every cell in your body telling you to go away and save yourself, you sit and listen, wondering if this is what happened to Cath. The voice sounds half familiar. There's only one set of footsteps.

It runs past your door, then into the night. You rush to your windows... but you don't see anyone, man or woman, Kelvin or Elina or anything. And then one final burst of yelling from Elina, and the door slams violently shut again...

You lean a little. Wait. That's not- that's- that's definitely Elina, running out into the rain, then into the fog itself and disappearing...

> What... what do now, Stan? What do? What the fuck is going on?

>>28282481
>Go inside.
>Try to get some sleep.

>>28282481
Time for some exercise. Let's go jogging. The way Elina went.

>>28282481
>Go inside

We don't want get involved right now. Even if we did find Elina in the fog what would we do then?

>>28282481
Wait for Elina to come back. Grab a book if we have to do something to stay awake. Preferablh somewhere that will let us see her first.

>>28282481
After her. Try to catch up, but also watch out in case Kevin has the same idea.

>>28282503
>>28282505
>>28282564
>>28282601
>>28282674

> 2 for going after her, 2 for going inside.
> I'll wait a little while more. (Was en route to library, am here now.)

>>28282503
>>28282564

Second these. If we chase Elina, what might happen? Let's wait for her to come back.

>>28282700
>>28282674
>>28282601
>>28282564
>>28282505
>>28282503

Your first impulse, of course, is to go after Elina - wearing nothing but a thin top and shorts and running out into the rain and fog like that! Anything could happen to her...

But as you put on your shoes, other ideas start creeping in from the edges of your mind, eventually crowding out that first impulse. After all, you have no idea *why* she decided to leave the house and run out, especially since that other girl - it must be a girl, and it even sounded somewhat familiar - had escaped already. Was Kelvin going to kill her for getting in the way of some awful rape and murder scenario?

But even if Kelvin *was*, what could you do about it, Stan? Are you going to take Elina in, given that the serial killer is just downstairs of the both of you?

And what if... another possibility comes to mind, though you try to push it away. It would explain why Kelvin, as a killer, bothered to drag the girl back alive. Jeremy's words. The dark, dank basement apartment as a good place to live. The inability to eat cake. Eating raw meat. Strength. Speed. Maybe Kelvin was not the killer... maybe he simply was *offering* the girl to Elina? Or some sort of shared supper he grabbed on the way home?

'Fuck, that's ridiculous!' You think aloud. 'No fucking way. That's fucking insane.' But even if it *was* somewhat true, then... what? Are you going to try and *stop* Elina?

Lying back in your bed, the only thoughts you have to hold yourself together are the thoughts of what you would do. Keep calm, Stan, as calm as you can. You're going to listen. Mom will be back, then Elina might be back. Once she comes back, go and look for her. Make sure she's all right.

Then you can plan your revenge, and your sociability, and all that. But for now, there's nothing to be done. Nothing. Nothing...

> Roll d100.

Rolled 7

>>28282767

Rolled 8

>>28282767

Rolled 65

>>28282767

>>28282767

Rolled 68

>>28282767

>>28282767
Rollan'

>>28282887
Forgot to actually roll

Rolled 50

>>28282896
Fuck sake

>>28282833
>>28282830

> 65, 68, against two very low rolls: ambiguous.

You wait, lying in bed, and listen until you hear Mom coming back home, checking the clock. Oh man, it's 3:40 AM again. This always seems to be a certain hour for you, doesn't it...

Turning on your side, you keep quiet as Mom opens the door a little to check if you're sleeping - or perhaps, after what's happened to all of you, to check if you're still there, still safe. You are. Of course you are.

You've got plenty of other things to worry about, though. *Plenty*.

As Mom showers and then closes her room door, you continue to stare at the ceiling. Wondering if you should... maybe have another wank? This time you'll think about Elina, Elina having fun and laughing at the bloody silly Bish Bash Bosh, and maybe she'll hear you somehow and maybe-

*Splash*

You sit up and look out the window. No, wait, that's just... that's just a car, isn't it? Shit. You lie back down. Oh god. If Elina were to run out, and run into trouble? This is M&M, stabbing capital of the city. What if-

*Tonk!*

Was that something against the window? You sit up, but there's nothing there, nothing in your view. And you've drawn the curtains as wide as you can.

> Go and check. Maybe it's her?
> Run right out. She must be outside.
> Nah, look, Elina will take care of herself.
> Other.

> Also, one last chance because you're a hesitant little bugger - are you skipping school for real tomorrow?

>>28282920
Check for note. Maybe we missed it or its too small to notice at a glance.

Rolled 11

>>28282920
>Run right out. She must be outside

>>28282930

This. It sounds like she threw a note or something.

>>28282920
> Go to the window.
> Yes, fuck school on Friday, especially after this night.

>>28282920
Skip school unless we have an important test or project due.

>>28282930
>>28282939
>>28282948
>>28282962
>>28282964

The window. Even if - you run up to the window, and then see that there's another note there, this time very cleverly concealed under a little glass cup. Wait, where'd that come from? Oh never fucking mind...

Opening the window, you grab the cup and read the little, curled up piece of paper inside. It's rather... old paper, or feels like it anyway, thin and dry and yellow. And scrawled with Elina's horrible handwriting. Dear god, does she only have a marker or someth-

'Hej. Look outside.'

'Elina.'

... You roll up the paper and, opening the window a bit more, lean right outside only to find yourself staring into her eyes, now suddenly brightened in the deep night, as if the darkness and fog and rain have only kindled some raging fire inside her mind, turning coal into smouldering cinders. It's beautiful. But it's also frightening, especially since you realise she's hanging from the window by her arms. 'Boo.'

'Woah-' you start and bonk your head, hard, against the window's sturdy wooden frame. 'Ow, shit!' Leaning forward again, rain washes into your hair, and then you finally manage to withdraw your head, rubbing the back. By this time Elina has slipped into the gap you opened, and is standing there, soaked.

... And also in nothing but a nightgown which, soaked with rain, now clings to her body as tightly as her own skin. 'Evening.'

Water drips from her - fingers, from her hair, the hem of her nightgown. Uh. Oh dear.

> Admire her.
> Look away. Be decent.
> Other.

> Also, do say something to her.

>>28283037
>Admire her

>>28283037
>> Other.
>Look at her face. Ask how she got up there.

>>28283037
Freeze. Stutter. Eventually get around to offering her a towel. Fail to rember to look away

>>28283065
This, then realise we forgot to look away and get even more flustered.

>>28283065
Thirding this. It would be the authentic path of action Stan would take.

>>28283096
>>28283080
>>28283065
>>28283062
>>28283057

> Okay, last post here. Got called for sudden dinner appointment.
> Hell, I'll admit it: I'm @Stratocumulus1. First quest from Asia, and I'm going to try and finish this damn thing. Follow for updates.
> Thanks for playing! I will continue this if it's still up later. You people are great.

'Uh... oh dear.' Your eyes, taking their own cue, begin wandering over her trim, skinny form as you try to think of something to say. You do notice one thing - she's smiling now, a small but satisfied smile, like in the dream when you took the maggot.

'Hmm?'

Fuck it! Your brain defaults to throwing the kitchen sink at Elina. Something! Anything will make sense! 'Uh, look, I mean, this is really weird, because I have noticed that there's like, heh, a fifteen foot gap between your window and my window. Also my mom's just in the other room now, and-'

'Then speak softly.' She takes a step forward. The white streetlight from outside shows her off nicely. The cold of the night, and rain, has made her, uh, her nipples are poking out at the fabric, and LOOK AWAY FROM THE NIPPLE STAN LOOK AWAY NO NOT AT THE OTHER ONE-

'Well. I'm... I'm surprised, let's just say. Are you free tomorrow morning? Or maybe tomorrow afternoon? I mean, fuck it. You're right, you know? I want you to teach me, like, things. Can you teach me? But we have to do it quietly. My mom would panic if she knew what was happening to me, and then-'

'Stop. Stan.' She takes another step forward. If those dark dots are nipples, then that little dark dot below is the navel, and that little patch of- she reaches and tilts your face up. 'I'm here.'

'You are. You're here, Elina.'

'Please get me a towel?'

'Of course! Oh, I'm a fucking idiot, I am.' You throw a t-shirt at her, then a duvet cover, before finding the towel.

> cont'd.

>>28283195

Long story short, it's half an hour later when you are lying on your back in the same position as before. Except this time, there's someone lying beside you, wearing your best pyjamas. The hippo print pyjamas are your proudest, all right? You don't bring them out except for Christmas. These days you hardly even bring them out then.

'Stan?'

'Yes, Elina?'

'Why do you chatter when you're nervous?' Then a pause. 'Remember what I said.'

Yes, yes. She's got a point. Take three deep breaths. One, two... three. See? Calmer. 'Well. When I started getting bullied in middle school the habit came back. I used to have a stammer and would talk really quickly to get around it.'

'Ah.'

'Then when the bullying got physical, I just thought - I'll either talk quickly and entertain them, or they'll get sick of it and beat the shit out of me. One or the other, you know? But I don't want to be held there waiting for them to think of what to do to me. I'd rather just talk shit. They're going to slap me anyway. So let them slap me now.'

'How long has this happened, Stan?' A hand stretches over your chest, and you tighten up for a moment. 'The slapping. The bullying. Being a freak.'

'Slapping, about three years. Bullying, about five or six. Freak, about seventeen, man.' You laugh, and Elina groans softly.

'Please. You're not a freak.'

'You only know me two days.'

'You only know *me* two days. But I know. You're not a freak.' Her lilting words seem to resonate in the narrow space for a long time, before she sighs. 'Oh well. You have school?'

'Fuck that. Skipping it. Are you sleeping here?'

'Mmhmm.' She doesn't seem to want to talk about tonight. You don't think you should ask. Strangely, she murmurs 'Gonad' or something like that before fidgeting a little. Looks like you have to choose a pose.

> Big spoon.
> Little spoon.
> Gentlemanly chastity.
> Other.

>>28283257
>> Little spoon.

Don't want to start poking her at night.

>>28283257
Gentlemen chastity. Don't go for anything now and get a lot more later.

>>28283257
>Little spoon

Archive?

>>28283305

This guy has a point. Let's impress her with niceness.

>>28283266
>>28283305
>>28283382
>>28283765

> Man, you people sure win by niceness.
> Roll d100, then. I'll assume that, again being the hesitant little dude you are, you end up letting Elina choose.

> Incidentally... is it just you, or is Elina a little more cheery now? Or actually quite a bit more cheery, ever since she came in with her nightgown?
> Incidentally incidentally... nice nightgown. It's cute.

Rolled 6

>>28283783

>>28283783

Rolled 48

>>28283783

>>28283783

Rolled 87

Fucking phone

Rolled 37

>>28283783

>>28284702
>>28284282
>>28284069
>>28283850

> I'm going to assume you're, in your beta way, hoping for intimacy, so...
> 87: success!

Your sleep, this time, is dreamless - unless a constant feeling of a deep, dark, unending night, punctuated only by the faintest glimmer of starlight far above you, counts as a sort of dream. Maybe it does.

Certainly, by the time you do wake up, you quickly realise that, like it or not, you're going to be skipping school today. Amazingly enough, the sun is out, shining through gaps in the still-ubiquitous clouds; you're about to turn around and look at the clock when you realise why it's so difficult to move.

It's because you're officially the small spoon, and Elina is using you as a bolster, one arm wrapped tightly - *very* tightly - around your chest, her long, skinny legs intertwined with yours. You can't see her face since it's buried between your shoulders, just a mass of black hair occasionally making some grunting sounds.

This is... this is quite hot, you are not ashamed to say. Certainly your appendage, being the honest chap it is, seems to think so. Maybe it's for the best you didn't do the big spoon - it would be quite impolite.

'Mmmmff,' Elina murmurs. You twist around just enough to see that it's now 7.55 AM. Even if you rushed to school now, you'd be really, really late. But just then, you hear a brrrrrt as your phone vibrates. And Mom might get up soon for a pee break and some light breakfast before going to bed, which means she might check up on you - and find you here...

> Wake Elina up, explain situatoin.
> Get up, go to handphone, try to hide Elina.
> Fuck the consequences. Didn't you want to free yourself from them? Cuddle with her.
> Other.

>>28284877
> Wake Elina up, explain the situation.

>>28284877
> All cuddles, all the time.
Honestly, we can explain/lie to mom that our new friend needs to be not alone right now, or something. Can we not reach our cell from bed?

>>28284877

Cuddle. If mom comes in, cover Elina.

But try to get to the phone. Maybe a heads up from school.

We'll need a doctor's signature or something won't we?

>>28284877
Yeah, fuck everything and everyone. Stay in bed. Just reach out to silence that damn phone

>>28285918
>>28285300
>>28286126
>>28286248

> Okay, can't resist one more before I'm off to bed.
> If this is still around when I wake up I'll continue. If not, then probs Saturday (but check Twitter, as mentioned.)

You sigh and go back into your original position, being careful not to squash Elina's other arm under you. Man, you do try hard to be gentlemanly about these things. And where has that got you in life, eh?

... okay you can't quite say 'nowhere' anymore, you think with a little smile. Still. Sleeping alone you can easily reach the phone, but with Elina sharing the single bed, you can't quite get to it without clambering over her somehow. And then there's the question of Mom, and of explaining, and of school, and of getting your doctor's signature, and of course if Mom found *you* sleeping here when you should be in class-

'Oh, bollocks,' you hiss, banging your forehead against the wall. 'Fuck it. Fuck it!' Yes, fuck it - fuck consequences, fuck worrying about what Mom thinks. You've seen an attempted rape or murder. You live in a neighbourhood where people knife each other in the gut without a second thought. In your school, well, you know that spiel. Everywhere people do bad things, horrific things, theft and robbery and assault and rape and murder, and what do *they* care?

So what should *you* care?

> cont'd.

>>28286376

With that thought somehow breaking the high wall between what you'd like to do and what you've actually decided to do, you take a deep breath and get round to planning. Right. You're going to have to get the handphone anyway, maybe tell Jeremy to tell someone you're sick. You'll have to cover yourself up properly, and Elina too, in case Mom comes in.

And, as a reward for that, you'll lie here with Elina until she decides not to lie here with you. Because you think you might be able to stand being here all day. Well, all day with a lunch break maybe. But come think of it, you do want to see her face. Wriggling your legs free, you carefully prise her tight grip off your chest, lifting her arm in the air as you turn around and HOLY SHIT SHE'S AWAKE-

> cont'd.

>>28286524

You drop Elina's arm in shock, and it lands with a thump on your bruised ribs. 'Grrkh-' but it turns out she's not awake at all, completely oblivious to your little manoeuvre even though her eyes are half open. Oh man, she's one of those people who do that - now that is freaky. But then her arm moves a little and tightens around you, missing your bruise, and you get drawn close to her. Her breath smells... well, no one smells too pleasant in the morning. But, eyes half open, lips slightly parted, drool trailing from the corner of her mouth, a gentle rasping sound marking each slow, even breath...

If you were a bit more daring, if you thought to fuck the consequences properly, you might kiss those lips. But then- but then that's not daring, that's just being a douchebag. You are rubbish, Stan, but you're not a douchebag. That's not your job.

Oh, wait, handphone. Sighing, you lift yourself off and clamber over her carefully... yes! You grab the phone and roll right back, reluctantly letting the black mirror between you and Elina's face. As it flickers into light, though, your heart misses a beat. Then another. And then a third, nearly suffocating time.

> cont'd.

>>28286573

'Stan u allrite? Sch emergency. Caitlin assaulted in MNorth Park last night. In hosp now. Sch calling assembly.'

... Caitlin. You blink as the first image you have of her is when you saw her walking past upstairs once, her self-shortened skirt revealing quite a bit of herself to you. Fuckwad that you were, you stared a moment too long, and someone else caught on - which didn't help your freako reputation. She's quite popular in school, though - not that that is a defence against assault, of course. In fact it might be the opposite-

Wait. Kelvin's sack. Elina's yelling. The horrified, panicking shrieks and weeping of the girl as she stumbled into the rain and freedom just twenty feet from your house. That voice always felt half familiar. Was it Caitlin? It could... it could be her.

'Oh god,' you mutter.

'Mmm?' Elina's eyes flicker, then suddenly you know they're awake and in this world again. They focus on you, and for a horrible moment it seems like life might get even worse when Elina backs away. But she doesn't. Instead she reaches to smooth your hair. 'What?'

> Fuck. Fuck. What do now, Stan?

>>28286603
Say a girl at school got assaulted. See if she has anything to say about that.

>>28286603
"When we get up, we're going to need to have a talk about some stuff. But not yet, because I'm comfy, and this is nice."
>Text reply: Fine. Tell tchrs Im sick? Talk later?

>>28286603
>>28286655
this

>>28286655
I would go with this

We should text Jeremy as thus >>28286906 and talk to Elina as thus >>28286655

>>28290905
This, but tell her we need to talk about some things later on (what we saw last night.) soften her up with that Funstation game before talking about it though.

>>28286655
>>28286906
>>28287225
>>28288449
>>28290905
>>28291123

You study Elina's face, trying to figure out if she can maybe sense your thoughts as she continues stroking your hair. Actually, given her slightly sullen behaviour yesterday, the way Elina looks today seems almost strangely blissed out - eyes narrowed, grin spreading across her face. You... you're not the cause of this happiness, this good mood. It can't be. Seriously, Stan, you don't even know her that well, and-

'Hey, put the phone down,' she murmurs, tittering as she reaches to pull the phone down. But the nameless, confused fear that is creeping around you now - almost like Elina's own fingers - make you pull them away from her grasp, and she blinks. 'W-what?'

'Wait. Give me a second.' You look down and text a reply to Jeremy. 'Fine. Tell tchers, Im sick, not gg sch. Laters.'

> cont'd.

>>28291836

'Is something wrong?' Now her face looks a lot more normal, but... your right hand moves a little and accidentally nudges her tummy, and you realise how- how *warm* she is today, her body twitching gently in response to your touch. That's what it is. She's warm... she's radiant... somehow it's like Elina's... sated.

'Um... well. It's like that...' this. The image of Kelvin dragging that sack, of whatever little of yesterday's horrors you managed to hear - or maybe there were no horrors, maybe... but what else could it be... but... take three deep breaths, Stan! Fixing your eyes on her, you continue. 'It's... a girl, in school. She got assaulted.'

Elina's eyes widen, just for a moment, then her mouth opens a little. But then closes again. You watch her do that, once, twice, as the burden of thinking finally falls on her. It feels a little guilty, but...

'What? I... that's *terrible*,' she says. 'Do you need to get to school now or something? Is it serious?'

Of course it's serious, Elina! But you don't say that. You don't quite want to.

> What do/say now, Stan?

> You suspect Mom will scold you if you stay in and get caught. Might want to be somewhere else, or get prepared for an argument.
> Also, you're a bit hungry now. The clouds have closed again and it's starting to rain. And you still have a massive erection which Elina must know by now, since, uh, since you're facing her.
> Actually, if school calls an assembly, you kind of maybe ought to go...
> ARrrrrrrRRgh.

>>28291864
>Make food.

Rolled 6

>>28291864
> Actually, if school calls an assembly, you kind of maybe ought to go...
Something interesting might happen

>>28291934

But if we go late, we can't mix in with crowd. We'll get picked out by them easily.

Going to school is getting in trouble. Let's make food, and then ask about Kelvin. That guy is weird.

Rolled 13

>>28292142
Sure, that works too. We could ask Elina about what her plans are. Is she going to go to school?

>>28291913
>>28291934
>>28292142
>>28292221

Look, if Mom comes in, you'll have quite a bit of explaining to do. But for now, let Elina do that job. Sighing, you sit up a little, and she adjusts by flopping on her back, her face wreathed by the rich, black curls. How is it her hair has become so glossy and soft and nice after being soaked in rainwater and towelled off?

'So you're going to school.'

That needs thinking about. School doesn't normally call assemblies, and when they do, attendance is often taken. That idea alone seems to force you to consider heading there, even when late. But at the same time, without the cover of crowds and having to go through the teachers' offices as you normally do if late, you will be very easy prey for Gerald and that bunch. Even if the teachers don't punish you, which is unlikely, you'll get properly messed up.

Look, it's the weekend. You'll worry about it on Monday. But then another thought comes to you. What if people, seeing you're not around - assuming they even miss you, of course - what if they begin suspecting that *you* are the attacker? They already know you as someone who perved on Caitlin once. You remember the time when you jacked off to that. Oh god. No, they can't possibly know you did *that*, but still...

'You know what I like about you, Stan?' Elina reaches to stroke your shoulder, her hand tenderly running down your arm to the elbow. 'You think so hard. And it's so obvious when you think. It's... cute.'

Why is she even saying these things? This is so unlike her! You get up, shuddering involuntarily, and stumble over her to stand up. 'I, uh, I'm hungry. I'll make some food. You want anything?'

'I'm fine,' she says, still smiling.

'Are you going to school?'

'I don't. Not now.'

> Point out that she's being weird.
> Ask her point-blank about Kelvin and last night.
> Go and make some shit to eat first.
> Get Elina, get out of house (give general idea of where to go.)
> Other.

>>28292376
>> Go and make some shit to eat first.

>>28292376
>> Go and make some shit to eat first.

>>28292454
>>28292414

Damn. Damnit. You look at Elina, watching you and smiling slightly, but suddenly any thought of spending the whole day cuddling with her if you could is fading a little. Why's she so *friendly* now? It's... it can't be anything other than acting.

You recall once when Gerald actually got his ex, this girl called Nicola, to get close to you in much the same way. You didn't even know they were together, until you stumbled into a classroom on her invitation one afternoon - that was the first time you got the toilet treatment, and they even peed on you. And it was the girl's toilet they put you in as well...

The memory of that soaks, like a stain, across your image of Elina now. She's not like that, right? Is she being nice to you just to get something... or just to harm you? You'd much rather she be sullen and honest.

Plagued by those thoughts, you walk out into the hall and over to the fridge. Ugh. Eggs, milk, tomatoes, some sausages past the expiry date but which smell all right... fuck it. You fry the lot together, half heartedly watching the tomato shrink from its skin. The smell is all right. Just as you're about to plate the stuff, you hear footsteps across the hall and freeze, waiting for Mom to read you the riot act. Oh damn, oh shit-

'Is it something I did? You're angry. I can tell.'

The curtness of those words almost makes you want to whoop in relief. You turn around. She's still in your pyjamas, and - wait. Is that a bloodstain near her elbow?

> What do/say, Stan?

>>28292738
>> What do/say, Stan?

Ask about the bloodstain.

>>28292738
Ask her about the bloodstain, and if she heard any screaming last night.

>>28292738
Tell her we're upset because we're making up things that might happen or might have happened because we don't know what happened.
Also, noticeably relax at her words being curt again.
And then get worried for her and ask about her elbow.

>>28292770
>>28292833
>>28293322

> Okay. I'm off after this. Check Twitter for updates.
> Thanks for a nice morning warm up session!

You put the plate of slightly charred sausages and tomatoes down, sighing. This is what happens when you cook while distracted. But then your glance goes back eventually to Elina's face, now seemingly more apprehensive, and then to the patch of blood. That's a pretty big patch of blood!

'What?'

'What's that? Is that a bloodstain?'

She glances down, then back up again, hand moving to hide it nonchalantly. 'It's nothing.'

'It's not nothing,' you go up to her, any concern about her weird intimacy now overshadowed. 'Are you hurt?'

'I'm fine. Really. I'll wash this-'

'It's not about the washing, Elina,' you raise your voice a little, and then drop it right back down again. 'It's about whether you're injured. Last night-'

Her eyes widen when you say those last two words. 'Last night? What... what happened last night?'

You heard her voice, is what happened last night. You heard Elina yelling, as if in a rage. Then you heard Kelvin, too, in a rage, with what might be Caitlin in a bag. And then Caitlin. It was Caitlin. It must be. You're pretty sure of that now. But at the same time, looking at Elina now, slouched and somehow bleeding, you want to believe the tone in her voice that states she was not there or anywhere, that Kelvin, whatever he was doing, was doing alone.

'I heard... screaming, Elina,' you say, tentatively. 'I heard things. Yelling. I- I heard Kelvin-'

At the mention of the name, Elina facepalms with a painfully loud SMACK that stops you short. Don't do that, that kills brain cells! But you can't get those words out, simply standing there as her hand moves to rub her face, her slight frame beginning to shudder. Is she sobbing?

'I... why...' she slumps on the couch and cups her face in hands. 'He's done it again, hasn't he?'

> Comfort first.
> Ask first. You always knew about Kelvin...
> Other.

>>28293372

Shit.

> Comfort first.

>>28293372
Comfort her and ask. "There there. What's he done?" type stuff, with a hand on the shoulder.

>>28296877

Next thread here:
>>28300140