File: roster.png (38 KB, 1120x830)

38 KB PNG

UPCOMING GRID SQUARE CLOSURES
FORBIDDEN CELLS
12:00 AM I9
1:00 AM G4
2:00 AM J3
3:00 AM H6
4:00 AM F1
5:00 AM I7

It is currently 1:05 AM.

Let's go Zeke! Find and save Claire! Don't die!

Since we sort of ended on a cliffhanger, I'll post the last couple updates from the first thread, instead of summarizing those.

In the first thread, Zeke headed to the clinic to stock up on medical supplies before the cell went off limits. There, we met Whitney Price (Girls #15) and Anna Wallace (Girls #20). Anna has been badly injured by a poisoned crossbow bolt. Whitney begged for our help.

"If we want to help her, we need to be able to see. Is there any kind of backup generator we can use?"

Whitney's eyes flicker with recognition. "Yes," she says. "Actually -- yeah. Yes! It's outside."

"Do you know how to make it work?"

Whitney nods. "I've been a camper for years! I use those things all the time... I don't know why I didn't think to turn it on. I was so scared after Anna got hit..."

"We have to pull this arrow out. I'll do that while you go turn on the generator. I'll make Anna a tourniquet, too. When you come back we'll think about whether there's any medicine we can give her."

Whitney stands, then stops herself from running out. She turns and eyes you suspiciously. She must think this is some sort of setup.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it when you asked me to," you say. "Now go! We don't have a lot of time."

Whitney nods and hurries out.

You grip the arrow with your right hand, just at the point of entry, curling and uncurling your fingers around it. You're no doctor. You have no idea what to expect, or how to do this properly. But you gotta try, right?

You glance up at Anna's face. Her eyes vibrate and roll around inside her skull. She's not home at the moment.

With a sick lurch of horror, you pull the crossbow out -- or try to. It gets snagged on something deep in Anna's thigh meat. Blood sprays in a fine mist across the walls. Anna's seizures get worse. She flops and spasms uncontrollably, her voice a shrill, continuous whine.

You curse under your breath and give the bolt another yank. It finally comes out, wrapped in flesh, and the wound it leaves behind burbles with blood so heavily that you can smell copper.

You grab a nearby chair, flip it over, and remove the staples from the pleather covering that secure it to the plywood frame. The felt-backed material is thick, and, rolled up, it makes a good tourniquet. You tie it around Anna's leg in the dark, your hands growing hot and sticky with blood.

Your pupils contract painfully. Dozens of bright overhead lights pop on all at once, turning your field of vision white with the daze. You rub your eyelids, smearing yourself with Anna's blood by accident. When you can see again, the first thing you notice is how terrible Anna's wound looks -- a trapezoidal hole roughly the size of a golfball, ragged with gore.

The second thing you notice is the other person in the room with you. Wesley Mandelbrot, Boys #9. He must have been here this entire time. He's rocking back and forth in the corner at the very back of the lobby near the vending machines, holding his knees.

He meets your stunned gaze.

"Hello," he says.

You blink.

"Hi," you say, still dripping with blood.

Yeah, Anna is probably dead.

>>35415672
That sucks, because Whitney and Anna were rumored to be a lesbian couple or something, they were/are close.

Behind you, the lobby's newly-powered automatic doors slide open. You wheel on your haunches, paranoid, but it's only Whitney coming back inside.

She's so focused on Anna that she doesn't even notice Wesley sitting in the corner. When she sees Anna's worsening seizures, she falls to her knees beside you and cradles Anna's head in her hands.

"Stay with me," she says. Her darkly tanned face is slick with sweat and tears. She tries to force Anna onto her side, although it's awkward with Anna sitting on a tiny, uncomfortable lobby chair. You lend a hand, impressed at Whitney's quick thinking. On her side, Anna will bleed less from her thigh wound and be less likely to choke on her own vomit.

You're not optimistic, though. Anna's formerly pixie-ish face is mottled red and bulging unnaturally, like a fish, and the front of her shirt is caked with foam. She's lost so much blood that the ground is slick with it. You're kneeling in a puddle of red.

"What can we give her?" Whitney asks.

"I grabbed some things from the pharmacy--" you begin. Before you can finish the sentence, Whitney is rifling through your bag, the pill bottles rattling as she paws around. It's obvious she doesn't even know what she's looking for -- doesn't even know what to begin to look for.

You glance uneasily back at Wesley. He's watching this scene, face blank, rocking back and forth.

"Where is it-- I don't-- I can't--" Whitney mutters to herself, senselessly, the desperation and panic evident. Where is what? you wonder. She doesn't know the answer herself. Anna is flagging fast.

[ ] Help with Anna
[ ] Deal with Wesley

>>35415821
>[x] Help with Anna

She dying man! We got to do all we can.

>>35415875

She's fucked.

>>35415821
[ ] Deal with Wesley

>>35415986
Gotta try plus, we are in front of Whitney. We need to get her on our side. Even if Anna does die, which she probably is, us being there trying the thick of it trying to help will win us points.

>>35415821
>[ ] Help with Anna

Tell Whitney to watch Wesley and get out of our way. Say it in a very confident manner so that she obeys

>>35416262
I like it.

All right. Gonna need 2 rolls of 3d10.

Rolled 5, 2, 9 = 16 (3d10)

>>35416336
rollin

Rolled 8, 9, 7 = 24 (3d10)

>>35416336

>>35416355
Awww yeah.

>>35416345
>>35416355

Writing.

>[x] Help with Anna

"Whitney. I have an idea."

Whitney doesn't slow her futile search of your dropbag. "Then stop talking about it and do it!" she shouts.

"Give me the bag," you say -- while taking it from her hands. She relents without argument. So she trusts you. That's good. "Keep an eye on Wesley," you tell her. "I don't like the way he looks."

"Wesley..." she murmurs. She looks over and sees him for the first time. "When did he--"

You shrug, and upend your drop bag. Prescription pill bottles scatter to the ground, orange and white. And amongst them, a small box in plastic polywrap, just what you're looking for. It's labeled:

Epinephrine Autoinjector -- 0.1 mg


"Adrenaline," you explain. "It might make her conscious again."

You've used one of these before. Your sister has an allergy to peanuts. You're not sure how poor Anna will react to it, but it's your only real chance.

Whitney leans on her palms. She watches Wesley with one eye and you with the other.

"Will it work?" is Whitney's only question. Not -- do you know how to use it, or is this a good idea -- just "will it work?"

"I don't know," you say, and unwrap the injector pen.

You jab the shot into Anna's thigh, just above the tourniquet, and hold it in place. A few seconds later, her seizures come to a shuddering stop.

She goes quiet, lying very still. Her eyes are still wide open.

"What happened?" Whitney demands.

"She's dead," Wesley says.

"Shut up!" Whitney snaps. "Shut up, you autistic little freak!" Then, after a pause, to you: "is she dead?"

Wesley inhales a burst from his asthma inhaler. "Anna Wallace 0.1%. Whitney Price 1.5%. Zeke Abergaine 5%. No. Anna Wallace, 0%. Dead. Zeke Abergaine 5.1%. Wesley Mandelbrot 2 -- no, 3%. Proven capability."

"Make him shut up," Whitney says. "I can't take it. I can't -- Anna -- Anna, wake up -- oh my GOD, Wesley, be quiet! Shut up!"

Suddenly, Anna awakens with a start. Her whole body tenses and her back arches. Her jaw falls open, and the noise that comes out hardly sounds human. You bare your teeth, clap your hands over your ears. It's like an air raid siren or the screeching of a dying cat. "Oww--" she shrieks, over and over. "Oww--!! Owww!!"

"What did you do?" Whitney yells. "Anna, it's okay. Anna, it's okay! We're fixing you! Can you hear me? We're going to fix this, I promise! Shh--"

Wesley shouts over the cacophony in a dull monotone, his face straining red with focus. "Ntunga Obongo-Enner 10%. Sakura Natsuo 2.4%. Vera Kinkaide 0.5%. Caleb Melphi 10%. Orin Wayne 10.5%. Kay Maitlock 1.2%. Lucille Bancroft 0.1%--"

Anna's cries of agony go silent. Her face is sheened with perspiration, her leg sodden with blood. She stares up at Whitney, blinking hard, her eyes bulging, as if trying to recognize her. Whitney attempts to say something, but can only mewl -- little gasps of despair. Strands of spittle hang between her teeth and she starts to cry. Wesley is still shouting names and percentages.

File: roster.png (38 KB, 1120x830)

38 KB PNG

Unbelievably, Anna manages to say something:

"Whit-ney." The syllables come out staccato, her voice choked.

Whitney wipes the snot from her nose and sniffles back tears.. "Shh. It's okay. You'll be fine, see?"

"Do you ... remember when you skipped practice ... to explore the storm tunnels with me?"

Whitney nods.

"I was happy."

It's the last thing she says.

>38 Students Remain.

File: 1360535091737.jpg (31 KB, 800x452)

31 KB JPG

>this entire scene

No! Damn it! Anna! Noooo!

Fuck we gotta get outta here, in about 3-4 hours, I7 is gonna be a forbidden zone. We have to get Whitney to come with us.

>>35417284
>Tell Whitney we need to go soon.
>Tell Wesley that if he doesn't shut his mouth we will shoot him

>>35417330
>>35417410
Should cover Anna, or something, respect the dead. Give Whitney some time, but yeah, we need to go and bring her with us.

Maybe convince her to help us find Claire, or other people so the same thing that happened to Anna doesn't happen to again.

"38 Students remain," Wesley says. "Anna Wallace 0%. Dead. Poisoned crossbow bolt. Possibly two assailants. Candidates in order of likelihood: Jessie Black and Charlotte Metcalf. Boyd and Chelsea West. Orin Wayne--"

"Shut up," Whitney growls.

"--and Shannon Howard. Gena Masters and Mark Lerner--"

"Shut up. I mean it."

"--Earl Cant and Ryan King--"

Whitney leaps to her feet and closes the distance between her and Wesley. She grabs him roughly by the collar and hauls him to a kneeling position. He grabs her arm to steady himself but doesn't fight her. Whitney punches him in the face, savagely, with a closed fist. Then again. And again. She draws blood. Wesley whimpers in pain.

You stand to pull them apart, but then you notice movement out the broad front windows of the lobby. In the parking lot -- now lit brightly by overhead lamps -- Orin Wayne (Boys #19) and Shannon Howard (Girls #7) are running toward the lobby doors. Behind them, fast on their heels, Sakura Natsuo (Girls #14), her slight stature belying freakish speed. She wields what looks like a fireman's axe. Orin fires potshots over his shoulders with a small-caliber pistol, the report no louder than pebbles against glass, great plumes of smoke rising from the muzzle.

It won't be long before all three of them are in the lobby with you. Ten seconds, maybe.

You glance back. Whitney is atop Wesley now, Wesley's face is bloodied and his eyes already black, bulging. Whitney shows no signs of slowing down.

>What do you do?

Rolled 2, 10, 5 = 17 (3d10)

>>35417478

Pull Whitney off of Wesley. Get them both to get moving out of here.

"We don't have time. If we want to live its time to RUN GUYS!"

>>35417478
stop Whitney, grab bag with supplies and get them both running.

>>35417478
Aww shit.

>Hand on her shoulder make her look at us and listen
>Tell Whitney we gotta go now, more people are coming and this place is gonna be a forbidden zone.
>Convince her to leave Wesley, killing him won't bring Anna back, it wasn't his fault.

We definitely don't want Wesley with us. He killed Dylan in cold blood. If Whitney kills him, it's no major loss.

>>35417478

>>35417460
I like this plan, but it doesn't look like we'll have time to give Anna the respect she needs.

I say we try to convince Whitney to gtfo with us since we definitely don't want to get involved with this incoming shitstorm. Grab the supply bag and run.

Rolled 7, 10, 3 = 20 (3d10)

>>35417567

The character doesn't know that. He just knows that Wesley seems to be doing the math of survival and has a nack for deducing attacks and shit.

Could be useful. We just gotta figure out how to control his crazy if it comes up again.

>>35417567
Yeah, don't mind if she killed Wesley, but Zeke doesn't know that he killed Dylan. Kay does.

Zeke would try to limit blood shed because he is a nice guy and all.

All right, I'll write up something based on these votes.

I need 3 rolls of 3d10.

Rolled 9, 7, 8 = 24 (3d10)

>>35417624
A good ole' swift backhand and a "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN!" might work. Or we could use some of the drugs to like calm him down.

>>35417654
ROLLING!

Rolled 8, 3, 3 = 14 (3d10)

>>35417654
Rollin'

Rolled 6, 8, 8 = 22 (3d10)

>>35417654

>>35417665
>>35417674
>>35417676

Hold on to your butts.

>>35417696
I''m lubing up and spreading dem ass check here, boss.

>>35417696
I don't know whether to be pumped up or scared shitless. Probably some combination of both.

>>35417713
Just remember to be gentle, whisper to me how pretty I am, lovingly stroke my hair, and call me the next day.

>>35417720
I feel ya, bro.

You lay two firm hands on Whitney's shoulder and force her back. "We need to go. NOW."

You motion with your head, indicating the front window. She turns and sees the advancing trio of students in the parking lot. Eyes widening, reason returning to her, she wipes her nose and stands again, leaving Wesley lying limp and sprawled out on the ground.

You sling your FAMAS over your shoulder and gather as many of the pill bottles from the ground as you can, frantically tossing them into your drop bag.

Whitney takes her pistol from the ground where she tossed it earlier and shoves it in her waistband. She casts an uncertain glance between you and Wesley's sniveling, bloodied form on the ground. A brief moral quandary plays out across her shadowed face -- then she sighs and offers Wesley a hand.

Wesley takes Whitney's hand in his.

Then he reaches around her hip and pulls her pistol from her waistband. He jams the pistol into Whitney's gut.

You react instantly. You grab Whitney by the arm and tug her back.

The pistol goes off. Three quick squeezes, three bullets. Plaster dust from the walls spins complexly through the air. Whitney winces, blood running down her slender hip.

You duck around the corner leading to the pharmacy, pulling Whitney with you, shielding her. You squat flush against the wall, holding your FAMAS at the ready, your jaw slack with anxiety, neck muscles twitching, arm muscles twitching -- all of you a jittery mess.

"Gaywad hit me--" Whitney grimaces. "Ghh--"

"Is it bad?" you ask. You're only half paying attention, waiting for Wesley to round the corner. But he really does know odds -- and he doesn't push his luck.

Whitney feels her butt with the broad side of her palm, dabbing it. "I think it just grazed me."

The automatic door in the lobby slides open. You hear a general commotion -- Orin's panicked voice, Shannon's equally panicked responses. Gunfire -- not only from one gun -- thuds, screaming, shrieking.

That little shit.

>>35418125
Agreed, fuck him now. Shoot the bastard when next time we see him.

"The window," you whisper to Whitney. You walk, half-crouching, to the window you came through with her. You clamber out, into the arid night. Your pupils expand, adjusting to the dark again. Blinking, you help Whitney climb out too. No time to stay behind and count the survivors. You peel out of there on foot with her as quickly as possible -- thankful that she's a soccer player, who can keep pace even with a flesh wound.

You head west, getting out, getting away -- no plan, except to add as much distance between yourself and that madhouse as you possibly can.

The knowledge that snipers may be nearby stays forefront in your mind. They got Anna and they almost got you.

They're playing this damn game. Your classmates are playing. And they're good at it, too.

>>35418271
Fixed for clarity:
>You walk with her, half-crouching, to the window you originally came into the clinic through.

(Zeke came there alone in the first thread)

File: aya.png (1.13 MB, 857x2200)

1.13 MB PNG

Journalism? Don't make me laugh. You might as well major in French Fryology. Do you know what your odds of actually landing a job at a major newspaper are? Be a doctor like your father. It's good money. Or be an engineer. You're smart enough. Don't ruin your life with these silly dreams of yours. Honestly, Kay. Your father and I are so worried. You're 14. You'll be in high school next year. It's time to start thinking about your future, seriously thinking about it. You're not going to become a famous reporter just because you go around with a tape recorder all the time. When are you going to grow up?

"We stop here."

Ntunga's syrupy accent snaps you out of your thoughts. It's the first thing he's said in almost a mile.

"We stop -- here?" you ask.

Ntunga sits in the considerable shadow of a boulder, easing himself down with one broad palm against the reddish sand. You're 500 yards from what appears to be a paved access road. It runs from the highway west of you, to a broad building north of you. The Silver Nugget, if your maps are correct.

"Why are we stopping?" you ask.

Ntunga plops his dropbag on the ground before him and opens the side pouch where he keeps one of his water bottles. "Libations," he says in his gruff baritone.

"That water has to last us three days," you say.

Ntunga drinks deeply, as if he isn't even paying attention. The water sloshes around as he sucks it down, perfectly clear and tempting. Finally he pulls the bottle from his lips with a loud plop and screws the cap back on.

In just a few gulps, he's gone through a third of the liter.

"If one is thirsty, one should drink. If we do not, we will lack the strength to search further, and we cannot replenish our supply."

You sit cross-legged beside him, leaning against the boulder. The stone is cool against your back, even through your tee. A pleasant respite from the heat.

"I am a bit thirsty," you admit.

"Then drink," Ntunga says. "And be merry."

You drink.

"I've never seen so many stars," you say, and it's true. "Not in real life, anyway. I mean, I've seen pictures. Of course. But I didn't realize they'd be so... bright. That sounds stupid."

"In my home country, one could always see the Milky Way. It became commonplace. Now I find that I have missed it."

You blink, looking down at Ntunga, whose eyes are fixed on the heavens.

You surreptitiously hit the record button on your tape machine. You don't really know why. Interviewing Ntunga for an article should be the least of your concerns. "What was your home country like?" you say.

"Kay Maitlock's human interest credentials will have to wait another day," he says. He puts his water away and zips up his bag. Dejected, you click the stop button. In the months you've known him, this is the most Ntunga has ever told you about his home.

>>35419263
NtungaxKay

i'm already shippin' it.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

Ntunga takes his map from his pocket and smooths it against the boulder. Every movement he makes is meticulous, exacting, as if even in these circumstances, he doesn't understand the concept of haste. He lays the map flat against the Earth and indicates it with a forefinger. The underside of his hand is much paler than the rest of him.

"We must consider the movements of the other students," Ntunga says. "We ask: where will they go? And then we go the other way."

"You explained that."

"Yes. This building -- the casino. We will go there and search for supplies while our classmates stay here, in the southern portion of the map. Then in the daytime as they are filtering north, we repair further north still." He slides his finger across the map. He indicates the gypsum mine. "A mine. Holes dug deep into the ground. A cool, dark place for Kay and Ntunga to lie in wait."

"...Waiting for what?"

Ntunga folds the map and puts it back in his trouser pocket.

"Waiting for what?" you insist. "We can't just go hide and hope for the best. We need to get out of here."

"There is no getting out."

"Don't be stupid. There has to be a way--"

"Kay Maitlock is a foolish girl." He stands and slings his pack over his shoulder. He sets out. You jump up and jog to keep pace.

"Don't call me names. Don't be so... so defeatist. We can get out of here."

Ntunga doesn't reply.

[ ] Go along with him for now.
[ ] Suggest a plan of your own. [write in]

>>35419311
>[x] Go along with him for now.

Rolled 8, 7, 6 = 21 (3d10)

>>35419311
>[ ] Suggest a plan of your own. [write in]

"In case you had your head buried in the sand, the last time they tried this little "battle royale" two contestants beat the game. If they can do it, so can we!"

Motivational speech go!

>>35419311
>[x] Go along with him for now.

Follow the sexy chocolate man.

>>35419356
Yay! Teamwork! We will win him over with our optimism and cheerfulness!

>>35419311
>Don't be stupid
>Don't call me names

Hypocrite!

>>35419311
Follow him. Ntunga knows what's up.

File: br2.png (573 KB, 2263x2353)

573 KB PNG

Writing.

Here is an updated map. It will be 2:00 AM after the next update.

>>35419451
Shit, Zeke and Co. headed east, was expecting them to go North. It's whatev's.

>>35419451

Actually, I lied. I should really go to bed.

I'm sorry that my schedule makes it so difficult to run in the week -- I have a button-down 9-5 and shit to worry about. So, I'll be back tomorrow at around 4PM EST. Hopefully you guys can keep the thread bumped until then. If not, I'll just make a new one, but I am aware this thread had very little content so I'd like to keep it going.

Reminder of the Adrenline Dice system, apropos of nothing:

>The Adrenaline Die is a single d6 you can add to rolls to help pass a difficulty check. You can hold an Adrenaline Die in reserve as long as you wish, but you can only use it once. You can hold unlimited Adrenaline Dice in reserve and can use however many at the same time as you please.

So keep that in mind. I don't anticipate we'll NEED them soon, but you'll want to remember they're always available.

Right now Zeke and Kay both have 2.

All right everyone. G'night.

>38 Students Remain.

(that only counts the deaths we've seen directly, of course!)

File: Kay and Ntunga.jpg (49 KB, 485x364)

49 KB JPG

>>35419263
>>35419297

>>35419297
too bad one of them will most likely be dead before anything can come of it.

>>35419641

>Ntunga protects his white waifu until they're the last two left
>Kills himself so she can "win"

>>35419669
Obongo! Nooo!

Wesley needs to get got.

That Sakura bitch too, if she isn't dead already. Chasing people with a fucking axe is some vengeful yandere level stuff.

>>35419512
Once we re-assume control of Zeke we need to check Whitney's wound to make sure it's really just a graze and then course correct to head back towards D8.

I don't know if Whitney still had her pack on her when we ran, so it might be good to take stock of both Whitney's and ours combined inventory to see if we'd need to scrounge up any more supplies. I'm really hesitant to approach the General Store or town and would prefer to skirt around them, but we might need to if we plan on making it to D8.

>>35419576
Good night, PD. See you tomorrow.

>>35419669
Thanks Obama

>>35419771

Good plan.

EVERYONE REMEMBER THAT OUR BRO QUENTIN IS WAITING FOR US IN CELL D8.

We need to vote to get Zeke back on track at the soonest possible opportunity. The guy's last name is Bonhomie. That's French for "good homie." There's no way he's evil. He's probably evil.

>>35419807


bon·ho·mie
ˈbänəˌmē,ˌbänəˈmē/
noun
noun: bonhomie
cheerful friendliness; geniality.
"he exuded good humor and bonhomie"

Also, depending on how the terrain around the Citizens' Bank is and how the building is structured, that entire area might turn out to be a killing field if there's a sniper set up in there.

Doubly so if that sniper managed to partner up with other students that are covering the entrances to the building.

It'd probably give them pretty decent zone control over the General Store too.

>>35419981
What kinda weapon does Whitney have?

>>35420388
I think she has nothing now since that fuck Wesley took her pistol and tried to kill her with it.

>>35420424
Well, shit.

>>35415269
Worst

>>35422035
Best

>>35420442
exactly.

Oh goody this is back.

If anyone remembers the 'Irradiate the entire West coast and fuck everyone over' plan, it ain't happening. There's no way we can assemble an entire rocket in 3 days, not even a shoddy one way ticket.

If we can find a plane on the other hand then all systems are go.

I REALLY want to do this. A brief estimate of damage if everything goes 100% correctly is a catastrophic global disaster on an unprecedented scale.

File: a44677a037ed26d27d71d59c4(...).jpg (316 KB, 1200x1500)

316 KB JPG

Bumping before I turn in for the night.

>>35424313
Wait, what plan is this exactly

File: Obama.jpg (64 KB, 621x960)

64 KB JPG

>>35419669

Obongo! You need to save the country from the conservatives!

File: Ruined Gun 2.jpg (324 KB, 1770x804)

324 KB JPG

>>35425719

In the last thread, there was a plan tossed around, based on the presence of the Felicity Nuclear Test Site. Basically, the plan was to recover some nuclear waste, build a makeshift rocket, then launch it, hopefully at some target, at the very least just out somewhere and hope that it hits something. That way, the United States would have to reconsider its policy of Battle Royales, and at the very least we'd get some good old revenge.

It wasn't the best plan ever.

>>35426118
Do we know for sure the US government is behind this? It might just be a rogue element. Mr. Lindt speaks fluent Japanese and (via the first thread's opening emails) it looks like he's in contact with someone over there. He also mentions "swaying DoD" so it seems like the US military apparatus is not directly sponsoring it.

The whole thing is suspicious. In the book, the US was Japan's enemy and was held up as a beacon of freedom. The kind of place that would never have a Battle Royale. It's obvious OP has based the quest in that universe, so what gives?

File: Does God Have a Flan For Me.jpg (22 KB, 500x374)

22 KB JPG

>>35426412

Well, nothing would encourage a full investigation quite like a nuclear blast on United States soil.

bump

Bumping

>>35417284
Shouldn't the teacher be dead too?

>>35430846
teacher is behind it all

>>35431062
>"Thank you," he says. That buttery smile of his returns. "Now then. My name is Glengarry Lindt, but please -- call me Mr. Lindt. Ms. Lambert can't be here today, so I'm your substitute."
>"Where is she?" demands Quentin.
>"Dead," says Mr. Lindt. As if it's the most inconsequential detail of his day.
I have my doubts.

>>35431170
Nobody's dead until we see a corpse.

bump

Anon return when?

bump

bump

>>35432912
I'm here. Unfortunately it will still be a few hours before I run some more.

While you guys wait -- I'm concerned that the characters are not established well enough. So, if there's anything about them you want to know, or about the world in general, go ahead and ask. (Obviously I won't tell you who is "playing the game" and who isn't, though)

File: Plebian.jpg (14 KB, 395x226)

14 KB JPG

>>35435444

I'll admit that I'm a total plebian, and have only watched the movie, but I think that the amount of characterization that we're getting is about what I was expecting, and I'm satisfied.

>>35435444
Maybe flashbacks would be a good idea to establish characters, put them in between scenes. Like make them nice, heart filled and warm scenes but we know the character(s) die a horrible death or are going through hell presently, just to make us feel bad.

>>35435910

I don't know, it feels unrealistic.

>>35435990
Life flashing before your eyes before you die?

>>35436009

I mean, we shouldn't know anything that our characters don't know, at least not until the end of the game.

>>35436045
Well we are going to know unfortunately, because we are taking perspective or 3 different characters. That's why I said dead or dying characters, so that what we know about them doesn't "meta" the game too much.

Like maybe a flashback of a scene between Anna and Whitney hanging out, or maybe the storm drain scene, to show us that they really were lesbians, and make us feel even more like shit or something.

>>35436131

It's not about meta-ing the game (although it could be argued that knowing about Anna and Whitney could inform us about their strategy, etc), it's a mood issue. I think that it gives us a much more raw experience to not know about these character's secrets until the end of the game.

>>35436533
Maybe, but then if we get too far in the story/game it will get to the point where we don't even care anymore. I'm fine if this stuff happens during or after. I'm not talking about secrets, just basic human interaction stuff between characters and memories before the game. Like a flashback where we play as Zeke during a school field trip or assignment with other students. Just stuff that gives us more of a reason not to kill someone on sight, backstory, or whatever. Because right now, I barely know anything about our own character and others despite the fact we may have known some of them for years. I mean he could just tell us "we are friends with so, because yaddda yadda yaddda, so you wouldn't do blah blah blah" but I'd rather us be like "oh shit, yeah that guy is a nice guy, remember when we, blah blah blah, so let's not do blah blah blah, we should try to blah blah blah" That kinda the reason why want like a flashback thing or something during the game.

I mean, we know these people we are playing this game with, well at least some of them to a further extent that just 2-3 lines of information that was given to us in the paste bin. They are people.And the fact that we know them, talked to them before, maybe even befriended them or shared moments and experienced with them. And now have to fight to death against them is part of the Battle Royal Experience.

>>35436948

I mean, I think that that's fair. I just don't want to know things that our characters would not know.

>>35436979
Yeah, man. But that is now the responsibility of the QM, and what information he chooses to reveal to us.

There will be some things we will obviously know, that our character doesn't. Like how Kay knew Wesley was a killer, but as Zeke we had to be like "Nah, man he just traumatized or whatever." Character locations, and equipment, and plans. Such as Ntunga and Kay.

It's gonna happen we just gotta not be meta-gaming dicks about it. That is our part and responsibility as a player. And roleplay that shit. Hell yeah.

File: Game Master.jpg (104 KB, 540x720)

104 KB JPG

>>35437115

Yes, obviously it is up to the QM, and obviously I will do my best to avoid metagaming, as should we all, amen.

I was just defending the QM's previous works, and commenting on a recommendation that I did not agree with.

>>35437190
Previous works? Guy has other stuff? I would be interested in seeing this. Good sir.

File: Train Etiquette.jpg (34 KB, 515x651)

34 KB JPG

>>35437242

I meant this thread, so far, and the previous one. I don't know if the QM has any previous works or not.

>>35437295
Oh, ok fo sho.

File: 792d354a7b22abf2ceb7903a0(...).jpg (65 KB, 900x622)

65 KB JPG

Oh wow, this thread is still up.

File: Yep.gif (937 KB, 474x272)

937 KB GIF

>>35439536

Somehow.

So are we keepin' this thread alive until tomorrow afternoon, or are we just starting another thread tomorrow?

>>35440136
QM did tell us if we had character questions we could ask.

Are there any beam katanas in the weapons given out?

>>35440607
Niggah, I wish. Go all Travis Touchdown on their asses.

File: Spoiler Image (31 KB, 1500x1500)

31 KB JPG

>>35440607
Sure, pic related.

File: 1400973676750.jpg (565 KB, 1139x744)

565 KB JPG

Okay, just caught up with the thread.

>Giving Anna epinephrine while she's still gushing blood from her leg

Now I'm no EMT, but aren't you supposed to give epi *after* you stop the bleeding? Seems like a really easy way to stop the heart.

I know there was really no way in hell we coulda possibly helped Anna, but I woulda just given her goddamn morphine to make it less...traumatizing.

>Orin, Shannon, Sakura, and Wesley getting stuck in

Well, there's absolutely no way this confrontation will come to bite us in the arse.

And it seems like the sniper-spotter duo have moved on. Might be a good idea to keep moving with Whitney with the aim of eventually getting over to Quentin's hidey hole.

The casino holds some promise, too. I just hope Kay finds something usable over there. Food and water are a given--but it'd be even better if the casino's security office still has a bit of an arsenal stashed inside--a shotgun would be invaluable out here; buckshot's great for ventilating contacts, and slugs would give us knockdown power.

>>35440837
We're not a doctor, we just gave her an epi because we were familiar with it. We have no actual medical knowledge.

>>35440607

There are some bladed weapons, but nothing that doesn't exist in real life.

>>35441945
Hey bro, how you doin'? How you feelin'?

>>35442015

Gonna run some more tonight! Please wait warmly.

>>35442083
Hell yeah. Should maybe include more into character description in addition to the stuff said in the thread, when you have the time.

File: 1375655072600.gif (624 KB, 211x119)

624 KB GIF

>>35442083

>>35442182
Yeah, you should include a "yearbook portfolio" of all the characters, listing their position of grades in grades, and their hobbies.

>>35442267
Aww, a class photo.

File: img000019.jpg (479 KB, 1057x1600)

479 KB JPG

>>35442267
Something like this? Lord knows it was the only way I could keep track of some of those characters when they first touched down on Mars.

>>35442439
>B cup.
>E cup, but somewhat firm.
This might be necessary information.

File: 1391180695541.png (102 KB, 194x233)

102 KB PNG

>>35442267

Like those little aside pages at the ends of chapters in the Battle Royale manga? Those were actually pretty neat.

>>35442532
How big were the fat girl's? I'm into BBWs.

File: 1390771632801.png (1.82 MB, 1195x895)

1.82 MB PNG

>>35442532
>>35442439

I never understood why the Japanese make it a point in some bios to list breast size and blood type.

>>35442532
Maybe only height, weight, general appearance.
Few notable hobbies that person may mention if you talked to them. Nothing too in depth that we may exploit,

>>35442617
Blood type because muh personality types
Cup size because sex sells

>>35442617
Blood type makes sense, for medical emergencies. But everything else kinda might be extra.

I mean I can see someone using another person's deadly allergy as a weapon or something. That's what I would do. And it is common knowledge that one might know about their classmates.

>>35442617
Blood type in Japanese culture has something to do with personalities I think, somewhatlike starsigns.

>>35442684
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_types_in_Japanese_culture

File: jif-extra-crunchy-peanut-(...).jpg (27 KB, 500x500)

27 KB JPG

>>35442658
>The deadliest weapon.

>>35442658

But unless you know someone pretty damn well, I'd assume you would find out about a food allergy on accident. Like "Oh shit, I didn't know you were allergic to peanuts/fish/soy" while said person is busy having their throat close up from eating peanuts/fish/soy and everyone else is running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

File: 1390457266826.jpg (577 KB, 750x1000)

577 KB JPG

>>35442083

HA HA TIME TO OPERATE

>>35442720
>One kid got several jars of peanut butter as a weapon

File: 1392205465457.jpg (42 KB, 335x490)

42 KB JPG

>>35442904

>It just so happens that that kid is allergic to peanuts

>>35442729
Yeah, sometimes. but like in like kindergarten and like elementary when you first introduce yourself. I remember some classmates being like. "Yeah I am allergic to peanuts, so if I am like puffy and choking, I have an epi-pen. And call the teacher. But yeah, keep that stuff away from me."

>>35443041
>Lactose intolerant and allergic to peanuts
>Food supplies only peanut crackers and milk

>>35442904
>smear peanut butter all over every door handle you can find just to be a dick
>use the rest to make delicious peanut butter sandwiches

Best weapon. Firearms, are you even trying?

>>35443134
>Find classmate allergic to peanut butter
>Smear peanut butter over entire body
>???
>Win Battle Royal

>>35443077

Lactose intolerance isn't that bad, though--worst I've heard it gets is diarrhea and gas--a damned sight more tolerable than having your throat seize up.

>>35443281
Don't underestimate diarrhea and the dehydration it causes, especially in a desert full of people trying to kill you.

>>35443173
What if they've insulated themselves from the peanut butter by smearing their body with jam?

File: profile 1.png (758 KB, 1228x780)

758 KB PNG

Like this?

>>35443451
I like it, you are based OP.

>>35443451
Heather confirmed for getting ahead of herself.

>>35443451
Very nice, OP. Appreciate it.

File: 1398137628564.jpg (167 KB, 1400x1000)

167 KB JPG

>>35443326

Point.

While on the subject of food--whose idea was it to only give the kids a loaf of bread? How does that old saying go--"man shall not survive by bread alone"?

You'd at least expect people would give these kids MRE's--calorie heavy, yes, but it's definitely more useful than a normal loaf of bread--unless of course you're using bread as bait for rabbits. Hell, would rabbits even go for just plain bread?

>>35443451

>Heather is Mami
>Class mother

SAVE THE HAIRDRILLS

>>35443470
>>35443499
>>35443536
I might make more like this, then. A couple in every thread. With a focus on the students who are still around.

>>35443559
Neat. I could see how it'd be exhausting to make 42 of those.

>>35443451

Heather is suddenly my favorite. Let's do our best to save the over-serious class rep!

>>35443653
>letting your guard down so easily

Careful there, Anon.

>>35443556
Make food a valuable commodity maybe? But really, these games don't last too long where starvation is a main concern or primary cause of death. But again, water in the desert is important. Water is always important, and they only gave us like a liter.

>>35443670
I feel like most of the characters are analogues of the original cast. Zeke is our Shuya, Claire is our Noriko, Ntunga is our Shogo, etc. If this pattern holds, Heather seems like the class rep from the book, who tried to gather up the "pacifists" and hide out with them.

>>35443704

Who is Kay, then?

File: 1396599728549.jpg (341 KB, 1280x850)

341 KB JPG

>>35443704

Well in that case, let's hope that one of Heather's little group doesn't have potassium cyanide, and that another doesn't have a Micro-Uzi.

Also Program Director--just what is the heaviest weapon that was received by anyone in the class? Battle rifles? Light machine guns? An M79 Thumper with three grenades?

File: Dec_SprungIS_3.jpg (74 KB, 500x333)

74 KB JPG

The Silver Nugget is not what you pictured. Far from the sprawling, neon-lit, multi-story decadence of Las Vegas resorts, this casino is a squat building, tan and taupe in some pale imitation of adobe housing, with a truly hideous corrugated tin roof. Aside this, the only decoration is a billboard over the front entrance depicting an animated cowboy dual-wielding pistols, with the casino's name in a faux-cursive script. Next to the casino is a dinky three-story "hotel" that advertises color TV as its chief selling point.

You cross the cracked parking lot and pass under the veranda that covers the casino's front entrance.

Like most places in Felicity, the power is out. The automatic front doors are locked, and Ntunga fails to pry them open, his shoulders straining with the effort.

"Please step back," he says after a moment.

"Wha--" you begin. But as Ntunga pulls the Browning HP Standard from his waistband, you comprehend. You let out an involuntary squeak of fright and hop back. Ntunga fires a round into the glass door and it shatters to pieces.

"Warn me next time!" you shriek, stomping a foot.

"I warned you," Ntunga says. He steps inside without a further word. You have no choice but to follow.

File: 1392088126126.jpg (226 KB, 648x1000)

226 KB JPG

>>35443757

The girl Kawada killed in the class he was in prior to joining the protagonist's class, perhaps?

>>35443871

I wouldn't want to ruin the fun.

I will say the best weapons went to students who will make the story very interesting.

Zeke got a very good one, but it wasn't the best.

File: casino.png (248 KB, 370x629)

248 KB PNG

The air inside the casino is stagnant, like the interior of a car left to bake in the summer heat. Well, you suppose that's not far from what it is. The stench of hot felt and leather makes you slightly nauseous. It's even warmer in here than it was outside -- perhaps over 100F -- and with no windows, the casino's lobby area extends into a pitch-black murk that makes exploration a nonstarter.

"It's dark," Ntunga says. Always to the point, that one.

His demeanor is as nonplussed as ever, but you can somehow sense the frustration in his voice.
Frustration at himself for not thinking of this contingency. He may act unhurried, but he keenly feels the danger of wasted time. How long do you have before some other student decides to explore this building?

"Hold on," you say. You dig into your pockets and pull out Dylan's lighter, the one you took from his corpse.

You flick the flintwheel. It's a pale flame, lighting your way barely enough to see a few feet ahead of you -- but it's something. Something is better than nothing.

"I hope Kay Maitlock knows that smoking is bad for one's health."

"Is it? This thing just saved our necks." You don't mention that the lighter isn't yours -- partly out of embarrassment at having pilfered it from a dead classmate, and partly because... you don't know why. You enjoy the idea that Ntunga would think you're a smoker. It makes you seem more formidable than you really are, something more on his level, perhaps. And more like a stereotypical reporter, too.

"If only we had some petrol," Ntunga says, as if to himself. "We might fashion a torch."

You wander to a nearby wall and, through sheer luck, see a map of the casino's floorplan. A bright red star labeled YOU ARE HERE indicates your position in the lobby.

"Maybe we can find an artificial torch," you say. "There has to be at least one flashlight in here."

>What do you do?

>>35444315
>Search the lobby, registration desk might have a torch for the receptionist.
>Failing that, the gift shop might sell them

We can do a general search and gather supplies from the deli and such after that. That is, if it's not all just rotten food.

>>35444315
>Lobby or check in might have something, then maybe security, baring those two then check the gift shop for a flash light or something to fashion into a torch
>Tell Ntugna this, to either cover us or so we can watch his back while he does so

>>35444315
Whatever we end up doing, have Kay or Ntunga stay at the doors to keep watch against anyone else who might enter. Only one person can hold the lighter at a time, after all.

>>35444315
>look for anything that could indicate where security goons go and wait.

>>35444443
>>35444409
Yeah, I think one should be on watch, the other takes point.

File: 1393400543768.jpg (163 KB, 699x593)

163 KB JPG

>>35444315

Head for the Harvest Buffet. The vending machines in this place are probably still stocked, though freshness of some of their items could be pulled into question.

Failing that, let's start looking for the security office. Security in these places has to feature an armed staff--just in case things go to shit or someone tries to pull a heist on the casino's vault. Let's get groovy!

>trusting the black dude

You GUYS.

>>35444552
/pol/ please

>>35444552
Can't stop the jungle fever!

>>35444588

Kay totally has the jungle fever though. She just doesn't know it yet. She's been obsessed with Ntunga ever since he showed up from darkest Africa.

>>35444552
Don't you trust your president anon?

---

All right, it looks like the general consensus is to search the lobby/reception desk first. Should we have Ntunga cover us, or cover Ntunga while he searches, or have both of us search at the same time? Or something else?

Looking for the security area and/or food can come next.

Cover that nigga.

>>35444697
We'll cover him.

>>35444697
I think we should cover Ntunga, we have the highest perception score, so we should be able to spot anyone sneaking up on us

>>35444697
Ntunga searches, we cover.

wait, we still have the voice recorder. why not leave it on at the entrance in case someone sneaks in without us noticing?

>>35444697


>>35444712
>>35444770
>>35444773
>>35444779
Fifthing

Writing.

By the way, I statted Ntunga -- should I reveal those stats, or do you guys want to go on intuition about where his strong points are?

>>35444773
Where can I get the scores from? They're not in the pastebins.

>>35444315
Behind the receptionist's desk is the best place to check for a flashlight to start, then maybe the gift shop. The latter will probably have backpacks or the like that might come in handy for collecting our haul.

Sweets shop and any vending machines are the most likely places to find consumables that haven't gone off.

It's kind of vile when you think about it instinctively, but rationally the restrooms are the most likely place to find more standing water in the event that utilities aren't running.

Main cage is most likely to have heavier self-defense stuff since that's where they handle the majority of valuables. Restaurants will have knives, and will absolutely have small first-aid kits at the very least for small wounds during food prep.

>>35444827
I'd like to see the stats.

>>35444827
nah. don't want metafaggin

>>35444827
Intuition, so we don't meta game it too much and go more of stuff we learn in game, I don't mind getting stats for character we play as or spend an extended amount of time with and interact and watch.

If you have to reveal stats, then only the easily observable.

>>35444827
Feels kind of meta-gamey to know his stats if we're only playing as Kay. If we switch to his PoV they should be revealed.

>>35444827
no, stats encourage metafagging.

never stat things for us, it always devolves into metafagging.

I'd prefer to not know Ntunga's stats.

Although he probably has decent strength, high speed, and endurance. Probably low tech skill being from Africa.

>>35444827
If there's a way to legitimately learn them by observing him then that's fine but otherwise forget it.

Gotcha. No stats for anyone but POV characters, then.

>>35444947
If you write up any more stats for mechanical purposes, it'd be cool if we could see them either A) when the character dies or B) as an info dump at the end of the quest.

>>35444947
Actually...

Ok can we get a group consensus here? I'd like to see dead people's stats.

"Search that desk," you tell Ntunga, handing him the lighter. "I'll cover you."

The corners of Ntunga's mouth twitch with the very beginnings of a smile. "You will cover me," he repeats, skeptical.

"You made a lot of noise just now shooting out that door," you say. You can't hide the defensive tone in your voice. "Someone might come investigating."

You pull your pack around so it hangs near your belly. You retrieve your:

[ ] Butcher's knife
[ ] Ingram MAC-10

>>35445034
>[x] Ingram MAC-10

File: 1390362178158.jpg (48 KB, 600x767)

48 KB JPG

>>35445034
>[ ] Ingram MAC-10

Make sure the suppressor's attached!

>>35445034
Kay's accuracy is shit. She's better with stealth. Use the knife.

File: 9dfd10455a75e9acc38e35117(...).jpg (161 KB, 800x550)

161 KB JPG

>>35445034
>[x] Ingram MAC-10

>>35445021
Sure, dead people stats are ok, by me too.

>>35445034
[x] Ingram MAC-10

We a little girl, ain't no way we gonna just stab someone to death. A gun will do better, just pretend it's a video game.

>>35445034
>[x] Ingram MAC-10
Yeah I'm not confident in our melee skills/physical stats

I dunno if it'll come up or not, but depending on what the MAC-10 is chambered for we might be able to share ammo with Ntunga's handgun. Food for thought.

File: MAC10.jpg (68 KB, 704x248)

68 KB JPG

Kay's primary weapon is now the INGRAM MAC-10.

The Ingram MAC-10 is a machine pistol with a magazine size of 30 bullets ( .45 ACP). You have two spare magazines in your pack. The suppressor is in place. There is no shoulder stock.

Your secondary weapon is an 11" stainless steel butcher's knife with textured polystyrene grip. You may switch weapons at any time.

(apologies for dropping my trip)

File: 1397542584179.jpg (36 KB, 480x480)

36 KB JPG

>>35445384

As in the last thread, for those that would like to know more, Youtube is your friend:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6x9qHkgdTpc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tbcGN69yjCk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRP_6JPh98k

could the blade be used like a mirror? Won't do fuck all right now in the dark but it's a thought if we need to peer around illuminated corners.

"That is a large gun for a little girl," Ntunga says. "Does she know how to use it?"

"O-of course I do," you say, running a hand uncertainly across the weapon.

"Bup-bup-bup!" Ntunga cries, pushing the muzzle to the side. "You will kindly not point the weapon at me. Unless you are thinking to yourself, 'I hope that Ntunga dies.' Ntunga hopes this is not what Kay Maitlock thinks."

You blush, embarrassed.

"And kindly keep your finger off of the trigger until you intend to shoot." He demonstrates the concept of trigger discipline for you with his own weapon.

You glance up at him. "Do you -- know very much about guns?"

"More than I would like to," he says. "Now go and keep me safe from harm, lion-hearted reporter."

He turns and vaults the reception counter to begin his search. You watch him for a moment, then head toward the broken-out front entrance to stand guard. Ntunga makes you feel like a child. You keep the gunbarrel pointed down and your finger off the trigger. The moon is high in a cloudless sky and the desert stretches wide and flat before you. What's going to happen to you?

>>35445666
2cute

>>35445666
>>35445706

Could this P be any more OT?

I'll need a roll of 3d10, just for chuckles.

Rolled 5, 8, 8 = 21 (3d10)

>>35445778
Rolling!

>>35445784
Pretty fitting total for a casino.

Rolled 4, 4, 8 = 16 (3d10)

>>35445778
ROllin'

Rolled 5, 9, 10 = 24 (3d10)

>>35445778

>>35445795
Lucky 7s?

>>35445808
Nah, 21.
BLACKJACK MOFO!

File: 21.jpg (580 KB, 2947x2042)

580 KB JPG

>>35445808

>>35445821
No, I saw that, I was just hoping for yet more casino-related dice.

>>35445784
Did we just win Blackjack?

"Did you hear? We've got a new foreign exchange student."

"No way!" you shriek, clutching the edge of your desk. Sometimes you can't help yourself and have little outbursts of over-enthusiasm like this. You've been trying to cut back on them. They're more than a little mortifying. You straighten your back and cough daintily into your fist.

Qingxiang -- Amy, to her friends -- nods excitedly. "We're, like, foreign exchange central over here," she says. "First Japan, then Germany, now -- well, I don't know where this one comes from, actually. I just overheard Principal Doring say that he comes from someplace 'dangerous.'"

"Oh my gosh. War torn?"

"Famine struck, I'm thinking!"

"Maybe disease AND famine. Oh man, this is gonna be my big break. I'll do a six-article profile on him! No, seven! My portfolio is gonna be amazing after this!"

You and Amy spend the rest of the day gossiping about the new student, waiting for him to arrive. Amy has her money on him being from New Korea, but you guess a former Soviet republic. You're both wrong, of course. Ntunga Obongo-Enner is clearly from Africa.

Paydirt.

He saunters into the classroom after lunch and plops himself down at a random available seat, without any introduction. The class murmurs and whispers. He folds his arms and stares straight ahead, as if at nothing. He looks angry, petulant. You quickly take up the seat next to him.

"Hi," you say, offering a hand. "My name is Kay. Kay Maitlock. I'm editor in chief of the student newspaper. Who are you?"

No response. You awkwardly let your hand fall to the side.

You allow a few moments to pass and then pull out your tape recorder. "A new student arrives at Burton Junior High! Our intrepid reporter is first on the scene to gather the young man's first impressions of our American school system. What do you think of the--"

"Do not talk to me," the boy says. The edge in his voice frightens you.

You cast a worried glance at Amy from across the room. She shrugs.

>>35446095
Aww, a tsun~

File: 1370190333394.jpg (84 KB, 417x402)

84 KB JPG

>>35446095

Oh no, it's a flashback sequence. If we're going by survival movie logic, this is the calm right before the storm, where we're broken out of our reverie by the sounds of looters attempting to plunder our shit!

An ellipsoidal beam of light appears on the asphalt and then disappears once more, as if sucked into a vacuum, breaking your concentration. Turning, you see Ntunga approaching, holding two flashlights -- powerful maglites with those new LED bulbs.

"Kay Maitlock does not pay attention," Ntunga says. "I could have shot you through the heart if I so desired."

You take a flashlight, harumphing. "I heard you. You have heavy footsteps."

Ntunga cocks his head, just slightly, a degree or two. "I do?" His eyes dart around inside his skull as he ponders. "There is room for improvement all around," he says after a moment.

>What now?

>>35446329
Supplies. As much as we can carry.

Secondary objectives are more dakka, transport, comms are whatever the heck else we can find.

Kay is a lot more entertaining than Zeke.

>>35446389
Ntunga is a lot more entertaining than Zeke. Kay is sort of a bitch.

>>35446234
Don't jinx us, man.

>>35446329
Go make our way to one of the kitchens, see if there's anything that survived this ridiculous heat. Maybe check any sinks or water fountains we find to see if they still work, seeing as both Kay and Ntunga drank a lot of their water on the way up.

File: 1372113391762.jpg (427 KB, 910x1330)

427 KB JPG

>>35446329

Hit the buffets. Gather fruit nuts, trail mix, candy bars--if we can rip open the package and start chowing down or can just bite into it raw, pack it. Anything that requires any more prep time than opening a package is a no-go.

Also, water. If there isn't any running water, grab as many big bottles of the life-giving sweetness as we can.

Finally, if we have the time, find the security office and raid whatever ammo and guns they have, if any. Or get some of those dildo-sized Maglite flashlights.

>>35446329
Supplies
>Water
>Food
>Medicine
>Weapons

In that order and priority.

Serious question: Are we gonna try to make KayxNtunga happen?

>>35446555
If you want to trigger death flags out the whazoo, be my guest.

File: 1373073246250.png (369 KB, 940x492)

369 KB PNG

>>35446555

It's still too murky to call. They are growing on each other, and that's good, but right now I can see them as being buddy cops in an HBO series version of Starsky and Hutch rather than lovers.

>>35446620

GODDAMMIT NTUNGA YOU'RE A LOOSE CANNON... but you get results!

>>35446646

No, you've got it backwards. Kay is the brash young cop who's wet behind the ears, Ntunga is the straight-laced and world-weary veteran cop who has to keep her out of trouble.

File: 1997_Camaro_SS_by_phantomzer0.jpg (578 KB, 800x600)

578 KB JPG

You and Ntunga sweep twin beams of light this way and that across the casino floor as you advance deeper inside. The carpeting is a deep crimson with a gold floral pattern, marred by decades of cigarette ash and spilled drinks. The derelict slot machines sit in their rows, screens blank, red cases darkly shadowed. It spooks you out.

"I guess this is your first time in a casino," you say. Whether or not Ntunga replies isn't much a concern for you -- you'll keep talking. You need to hear a voice, even if it's your own, or the eerie quiet will make you go bonkers.

But Ntunga does reply. "I find this place perplexing."

"Perplexing how?" you ask. You click play on your tape recorder.

Ntunga's voice has an up-and-down lilt to it that makes him an inherently charismatic speaker -- he could probably be a hypnotist with training. "Spin to win," he says. "Lay your money on red, on black, on double-zero. Change your life with just one roll. Get lucky, now is your chance. Who believes this?"

"Lots of people, I guess."

"Is what you have not already enough? This striving for opulence..." he trails off, and can't seem to find the words. So he picks up a different thread: "America is awash in opulence. It is concentrated, like poison. Like--"

He stops, and you nearly bump into him. Your eyes follow the path of his flashlight's beam, finally settling on a circular platform sitting beside a cluster of slot machines. Surrounded by velvet rope is a brand new sports car.

The two of you glance at once another.

"Spin to win," you say.

Ntunga is silent for a long moment. Finally: "I am making a note of this."

You continue on.

3 rolls of 3d10 please.

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>35447134
1 get

Rolled 6, 7, 6 = 19 (3d10)

>>35447134
Oh boy.

Rolled 3, 10, 8 = 21 (3d10)

>>35447134
Rolling!

Rolled 1, 7, 8 = 16 (3d10)

>>35447134

Here goes something

>>35447156
Blackjack! Bitches!

>>35447183
It keeps happening!

>>35447134
When we roll, are we doing a best of 3 system or are you taking the average of the 3 totals?

>>35447155
>>35447156
>>35447161
Writing.

>>35447201

You roll against a DC. I take the sum of each 3d10 roll and compare it to the difficulty for the action (modified based on your stats).

If you guys decide to add adrenaline dice to a roll, this gets tacked on also.

Holy shit, I missed it. ;-; Glad to see you're still here, PD.

Club 88 is the casino's wholly unimpressive lounge. Torturous-looking stools stand arrayed about a semi-circular bar, and huge flatscreen TVs -- for displaying horse races, Keno results, and so on -- line the far back wall. The rest of the floospace is dominated by tall-backed booths and tables.

Ntunga lifts the hinged portion of the bartop and goes snooping around underneath. He pulls up several bottles of alcohol. They clink as he sets them down.

"I don't think those are going to help," you say.

"Nonsense. Suppose Kay Maitlock becomes wounded. How shall we prevent infection?"

You hadn't thought of that. Ntunga places the bottles in his pack.

But then he pulls a small steel flask from his back pocket and fills it with what you identify as whiskey. You don't think that's for preventing infection.

[ ] Object
[ ] Say nothing.

>>35447436
>[x] Say nothing.

Fuck disinfectant, we're totally turning those into molotovs.

>>35447436
>[x] Say nothing.

>>35447436
>[ ] Say nothing.

>>35447436
>Insist that if shit hits the fan we get some too.

File: 1378784125031.jpg (26 KB, 601x322)

26 KB JPG

>>35447436

[X] Object

We should be looking for water, not party liquor. If we need something that can disinfect in a pinch, just grab a bottle of Stolichnaya or Everclear. Better yet, let's just nab a first aid kit!

>>35446389
Gotta disagree there.

>>35447524
This.

>>35447524
Thirding. Mention this. They actually have to have a legit medkit here, somewhere.

File: 1376269950781.jpg (77 KB, 985x527)

77 KB JPG

>>35446389

We've only met two of the three protagonists of this quest. I'm probably more interested in finding out who this third protagonist is than in scrounging around with Zeke and Kay--Kay much less than Zeke.

I mean, that third protagonist could be anyone! Quentin, Claire, Shannon--heck, it could even be Wesley, Amy, or Zoe!

You say nothing. You trust him enough to assume he won't get drunk, he's shrewder than that. And if a little liquor helps him take the edge off -- all the better for you.

The deli and the candy store are both blocked-off by a steel-mesh shutter. The stench emanating from the deli is enough to let you know that it isn't worth your time. But the candy store might have some useful potables -- and Ntunga surprises you with his brute strength when he manages to rip the shutters from their hinge, unblocking the way.

You take a couple handfuls of chocolate bars and some jelly beans. You don't want to take too much -- you'd rather be eating something with more substantial nutritional value -- but the sugar should be good for an energy boost. Ntunga is obviously thinking along the same lines.

You check inside the restrooms for a working faucet. Ntunga follows you shamelessly into the ladies' room -- even in these circumstances, it feels a bit taboo, but it clearly doesn't faze him at all. None of the faucets work anyway. Just a stale hiss of air when you turn the handles.

You circle back to the main cage, following Ntunga. The cage is a long row of teller windows, like at a bank, protected by metal grates and plexiglass.

"Wait," you say, "shouldn't we look inside the restaurants next?"

"Water first," Ntunga says.

"I don't think there's water in there--"

But Ntunga is already forcing his way through the door to the side of the cage. This one is more of a struggle than the store-shutters. Eventually he grabs a nearby stanchion and unhooks the velvet rope from it. He uses the broad chrome base of the stanchion as a hammer, breaking the metal doorhandle in five savage blows that clang and echo in your eardrums. The doorhandle clatters to the carpet and the door drifts open, revealing a dull mustard-tiled hallway.

At the end of the hallway sit two water coolers.

"Administrative areas are always replete with such things," Ntunga says.

>>35447758
What a badass.

>>35447758
Dang, let's hope we never wind up on his bad side.

You and Ntunga sit side-by-side in chairs at the cage's teller windows, looking out at the darkened casino floor. The water coolers now stand between you, Ntunga having moved them.

"We should rest," Ntunga says. "The day ahead is arduous."

"Here?" you ask. "Here, as in... here?"

"Kay Maitlock is worried of someone sneaking by and discovering us." He wiggles his fingers in the air as if to pantomime a sneaking spider.

You nod.

"Ah, but Kay Maitlock can hear Ntunga's heavy footsteps. Can she not hear the heavy footsteps of some other interloper?"

You dither. "I mean -- sure -- if I'm awake. I'm a pretty deep sleeper, though--"

"No one will find us," Ntunga says with confidence. "We shall keep our heads down and our wits about us. In the morning we shall gather more foodstuffs and set out, renewed of strength."

"What about that car? Do you think the key to it is somewhere?"

"Somewhere close. There should be a vault nearby where great quantities of cash and other valuables are kept. Unless Kay Maitlock has powers of telepathy, I do not like our chances of gaining access. Now, if you please -- allow me to rest."

[ ] Rest.
[ ] Some other plan. [write in]

>>35447860
>[ ] Rest.

>>35447860
>[X] Rest

May as well get some time to chill the fuck out after all that marching.

File: 1378153657702.jpg (67 KB, 754x443)

67 KB JPG

>>35447860
>[X] Some other plan. [write in]

Alternate sleeping in 4-hour shifts. We'll take first watch, then Ntunga take second, and so on until morning--that way, we keep our wits about us and remain vigilant.

>>35447860
>[x] Rest.

The car probably doesn't have any gas in it anyway. Not to mention much of the road being covered by forbidden zones soon, and I don't like the odds of taking a sports car through the desert.

>>35447860
>[x] Rest

Should do it in alternating shifts if we plan to rest for a while or the night.

"We should do it in shifts," you say. "Two hours each. How does that sound?"

"Clever idea. I am taking the first shift. Please enjoy the sounds of my snoring."

And boy, does he snore.

>>35447959
So tsun~

File: 1351075415193.png (9 KB, 361x346)

9 KB PNG

>>35447959

Well, at least we're not gonna be dozing off.

Say, if we ever move into the open desert, there's absolutely no chance we'll be encountering skinwalkers, right?

>>35448034
/x/ pls

>>35448034
Anon, the skinwalkers are everywhere in the desert. PD would be a fool not to make it a 50% chance of anyone we meet being one.

Hello, Zeke. Hello, hello. Wake up. Meet the man your mother left your father for. He comes from Australia. Maybe if you take up a hobby that's popular in Australia, he will finally pay attention to you. See your real father on the weekends. See your real father once per month. Never see your real father. Wonder whether he hates you because you're trying to hard to be closer this man who stole his family. Write your real father, begging to see him and apologizing for whatever you did wrong. Receive no response. Get called out of class one day to find out that he committed suicide. Be the only member of your family to attend the funeral. Receive a letter from him afterwards, postmarked on the day he died. Read about how he doesn't blame you and that he's happy you have a better father now. Take a moment to reflect on what rotten luck you have to be going through this mess just as you enter puberty. Lose yourself in your new Australian hobby as a way of coping. Find out this doesn't make your newer, better father care about you after all. Find this sort of funny, in a strictly theoretical sense.

Whitney stops jogging and leans against a short fencepost, trying to catch her breath. The bleeding from her flesh wound has finally stopped but all the commotion has left her zapped.

"Are you all right?" you ask.

"I'm fine-- I'm--"

Whitney vomits. Her body doubles over as she gags and heaves. The sour stench of bile meets your nostrils as the ground turns loamy.

"You need to drink some water," you tell her. "You're dehydrated."

Whitney spins on her heels and sits on one of the weathered slats composing the fence. She digs through her pack and pulls out her water, drinking greedily. And as she drinks, she starts to sob -- just like that.

"I'm sorry," you tell her.

"You're sorry," Whitney repeats, pulling the water bottle away, splashing a bit. Her face is wet with tears and spittle. She's a mess. "Great. You're sorry. Definitely going to help me. Thank you so much."

File: 1355204083292.jpg (897 KB, 1920x1200)

897 KB JPG

>>35448074

>Quentin is secretly a skinwalker
>D8 is where he's planning to meet Zeke and kill him

DON'T THINK I'M NOT ON TO YOUR PLAN, PROGRAM DIRECTOR

>>35448119
>no Japanese collusion
>it's a skinwalker takeover instead
How deep does the rabbit hole go?

>>35448090
Oh man, Whitney's not doing good. I'm worried she's going to do something stupid now that Anna is dead.

File: 1381031785686.png (145 KB, 1335x1779)

145 KB PNG

>>35448157

Like what? It's not like she's totally gonna run off into the desert into a huff, get nommed and replaced by a skinwalker, return to our camp in a state of near-catatonia, then try to get us to wander off into the desert as well?

Ridiculous, right? In fact, I wouldn't worry about it at all.

>>35448090
Oh fuck, we really need to check that injury of hers. This does not look good.

>>35448220

Goodness, that's right. The adrenaline may have been covering for any weakness that would be caused by blood loss. It's very possible that that wound on her butt is an exit wound, with the smaller entry wound somewhere on her hip.

Even still, what can we do? We aren't a medic, and even if there are entry and exit wounds we have no immediate way of supplying any reasonable amount of stabilizing care. All we have are bottles upon bottles of pills--and we don't even know if we grabbed antipsychotics or painkillers.

File: br2.png (519 KB, 2263x2353)

519 KB PNG

"Where are we?" you ask, more to yourself than to her. You cast your gaze up and down the fence's length. It stretches as far as you can see in either direction and doesn't seem to be blocking off much of anything.

Losing track of where you are is bad news. What if you accidentally wander into a forbidden zone?

"There's a canyon," Whitney says. Her voice is flat and affectless. She peels chunks off of her bread and shoves them into her mouth. Through full lips, she continues, her voice muffled: "We passed a sign warning hikers about it not too long ago."

Even in her grief, she pays attention to her surroundings.

You sit next to her. "Before you and Anna went to the clinic--" you begin. The awkwardness of even mentioning her name makes you shudder. "Before you went there-- did you see Claire?"

Whitney shakes her head. She looks over at you with a bitter grin. "Trying to meet up with your girlfriend? Let's hope you're luckier than I was, huh."

You take out your map. Based on what Whitney told you, you should be somewhere near the southern end of the canyon. Pretty far from anything useful.

What is your plan, where are you going to go? How are you going to find Claire?

"Remember this date..." you mutter. It comes to your from nowhere. "Remember this date..."

"I'll remember it, all right," Whitney says.

"No. What Q said when he left the class." You look over at Whitney, the gears twisting into place. "Date. D-8. Q is in cell D8. Or he will be."

"Good for him."

Whitney winces and sighs as she chews. You glance down at her hips. The denim of her shorts is ripped where the bullet grazed her, and fibers stick to the wound. Even in the dark it looks sort of ugly. It needs attention.

>What next?

>>35448319
>treat her wound as best we can, clean it out, antiseptic, and bandage it.

>>35448319
>Attend to the wound as best we can
>Relocate to El Casa Pariso for supplies for Whitney and ourselves
>Head towards D*
>Convince Whitney to do so

>>35448319
Damn, those two covered close to two miles on foot. They must be exhausted.

Rest at the whorehouse. It's a whorehouse, right?

File: 1411663647731.png (280 KB, 407x453)

280 KB PNG

>>35448319

First things first--we gotta clean out the denim from that wound or it'll fester. We'll need to use some of the water, and then rip off some bits of our shirt to wrap around the area.

>>35448319
Tear a piece of cloth from our shirt and soak it in water, use it to clean out the wound. Dress it as best we can to try to keep out the desert grit. Look through our pills and see if any of the names sound like painkillers we might know.

After that, head northeast for El Casa Paraiso so we have a familiar landmark we can use to navigate towards D8.

File: alpaca.jpg (89 KB, 600x647)

89 KB JPG

When are we going to see the alpacas damn it.

File: 1412697266208.jpg (9 KB, 450x300)

9 KB JPG

>>35448368

With a name like "Casa Paraiso" in the middle of Nevada, it's probably a whorehouse. The canyon has shade, but the whorehouse gives us a roof and the possibility of supplies. Also, condoms and lube for when we plow the fuck outta Claire once we get outta this shithole.

>>35448349
>>35448398
These two, make sure to save some resources helping Whitney out. If it looks like we'll have to waste everything, we may just want to say it's unsalvageable.

Convincing her to come along to D8 is a bit of a priority, but if she just wants to sulk, we're not going to let that kind of defeatism spread to us, everybody loses people.

>>35448422

Claire is a red herring. I bet she's dead already.

Still, we need the lube for when we turn Whitney straight with the power of cock

Forget about condoms, we're rawdoggin this bitch

>>35448443
>Claire is a red herring. I bet she's dead already.

I doubt PD is this much of a shitter. However, we're definitely going to have to sacrifice something and struggle fiercely if we don't want her to die.

>>35448416
Can you ride on alpacas? Are the alpacas even alive? What if we get over there and it's just a pen full of rotting carcasses? Do you want to take that risk, Anon? Poor Whitney is already reeling from the loss of her friend, I don't think her heart could take it.

File: 1410853930425.webm (2.94 MB, 1121x631)

2.94 MB WEBM

>>35448416

Hopefully sometime before it turns into a Danger Zone--though to be honest, considering where we are right now, I'd rather like to see the nuclear testing site.

>>35448443
>Become last 2 survivors
>About 2 do the do
>Lube it up
>Horribly deathly allergic to lube
>Die during sex
>Win/Lose Battle Royal

>Whitney Price
>soccer-playing lesbian
>Mami is the stuco prez

You're a cheeky cunt OP.

>>35448473

People can be allergic to lube? I know some people can be allergic to latex, but lube?

All right. I'll resume the quest tomorrow (probably!). When we come back, we'll head to Casa Paraiso to regroup and reorient and restock.

I think this thread will probably hit the bump limit and drift off the board before I get back, so watch the QTG for updates. Night.

>>35448523

Oh, and -- thread theme:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9Kujas1IsM
I think this is a good theme for Ntunga.

>>35448515
Yes, you can.

>>35448535
Theme should be allergy.

>>35448523
>>35448535
Thanks for running despite your hectic schedule OP.

Ntunga > Zeke > Whitney >>> shit > Kay

>>35448535
Thanks for running, PD. You're truly a godsend in a sea of 200 page quests with no development. You should totally find some other way to keep us posted, though. As QTG is a fucking cespool and watching it is going to give everyone a collective headache.

>>35448582
I will trade blows with you over that opinion, friend.

>>35448587

I'll have an announcement for you at the end of the next thread, I think. Hopefully. We'll see.

Until then, I can always post a notice in the archive for this thread, too -- or you can keep an eye peeled on the catalog, of course.

I'm sorry about being shitty in this regard!

Thanks for reading. Goodnight for real.

>>35448523
>>35448535
please get a twitter already. /qtg/ is terrible.

>>35448597

post urs m8

>>35448603
Copy that, sleep easy, brother.

>>35448603
>Until then, I can always post a notice in the archive for this thread, too

Sounds good to me. Good night!

>>35448619
Not that guy, but my list goes.

>Zeke > Ntunga > Whitney > Kay.

It gets even fuckier if we include all the characters who haven't gotten any screentime since the intro. So I'll stick to those we have with us for now.

>>35448619
Ntunga > Kay > Zeke = Whitney

This is not an opinion. This is FACT.

Who is the mysterious 3rd POV character?

>>35448652
>Not a student

>>35448652
Place some bets people, and make your guesses.

Mine is Wesley or Sakura, would love to play as a killer or a bad guy in one of thee things.

>>35448652
i doubt we will find out until one of our POV characters dies, juggling 3 is too many imo.

>>35448666

Reminder that Ms. Lambert's desk isn't colored red on the roster. And that OP dedicated several posts to her in the first thread, more than most students.

>>35448652
We have a bruiser (Zeke) and a stealth character (Kay) already, all we're missing is a brainy character. My money is on one of the 2 girls in the bio image OP posted.

File: le smiling grill face.jpg (187 KB, 600x582)

187 KB JPG

>>35448643

>>35448682
I hope it's the pettanko girl.

cowtits pls leave the planet forever

>>35448682
While it's more likely these two will end up in Zeke's storyline, it could be either Quentin or Claire. As they both match the brainy archetype.