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But what was lost lingers in the blood.

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The land was prosperous, and filled with treasures -

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But in the foreign land I could not love.

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This is the city the night has never met. Its inhabitants are the sexual and the sex-starved, psychic outlaws and people you only saw on television. A place that has turned its back to the world, and stares out at the ocean instead.

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It is the land of flood, drought and fire. Fissures in a road cracked by tremors. The old romance of conquest, skyscrapers the thrill of vertical myth, silhouettes thrust into fevered rhythms of traffic against the horizontal sprawl of billboards and boulevards. A city that is all open, promiscuous, borrowed, half-bought. There is no peace as the noise and light shreds sleep.

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The immensity of the sky, the endless vault where the continent ends and surrenders to the tides, the sunshine haze, the blue and pink and orange and grey, the sky that incites those beneath to live for youth and pleasure; the sky of desire, anticipation and promised fulfilment.

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Let go, the sky whispers; let it all go and forget.
You can tell me everything.
You are so beautiful,
You are so lovely,
I love you, I will love you, always
I will protect you, I will be with you
I will always be near you...
Let it all go and forget.

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There are people here who can buy everything you could possibly imagine or want, and still see all their money unspent.

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You sleep on the beach at night alone.

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An endless duplication of celebrity, a concentrated dream of ecstasy and violence salvaged from the hard edge of cruelty. The world is fast and bright, expensive and loud. Buy anything you need on the shelves, buy with a swipe on your phone, buy anything that isn't kindness or love. All are trapped within the malevolence of the dream.

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At the beach, a small act of sadness seems like rebellion.

FACE THE FIRE Boy Harsher
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=B4PDXmo-Gxo

-"You are thinking about her again..."

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Heather
Over the years, Heather had amassed a small but dedicated and loyal audience of followers who admired her various social channels, which mostly depicted travel and alternative lifestyles oriented around spirituality, nature and wellbeing.

Before the highly acclaimed indie hit videogame "Super Vampire Basher (SVB) - Bubblegum Edition: Gotta Pop 'em All!" had achieved breakout success, Heather had been Finlay's girlfriend. You suspect Heather regrets letting her own content channels lapse in viewership, after she devoted much of her time and effort into supporting post-launch community development and forum moderation for her then boyfriend's hit videogame success. Online haters and misogynfluencers allege that Heather's influence was responsible for aggressive monetisation practices such as an intrusive pay-per-play transactional store for mods and add-ons as well as the addition of controversial customisable dlc gender inclusive outfits in the definitive Bubblegum Edition of the Super Vampire Basher videogame franchise.

(Heather continues:)
-(...) It's your face, see, when you start gawking away into the distance with this stupid defeated thousand yard stare expression. Get over it, you need to get over yourself! I am not accompanying you to any more stupid beach goth parties. The music is so terrible, I just can't stand it! No more trudging through urban ruins and abandoned warehouses at 3am trying to find and reunite you with your One True Destined Love. Face it, you didn't even get her name! Not her name, not her phone number, not even a memory of any of her friends, or who she was with, or even anyone accompanying her... just a bad photo... a photo of a shadow. I wouldn't even know if that is her - it could be anyone at all!

File: beeple-05-04-18.jpg (1.76 MB, 2000x2500)

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The bone-throbbing echo of a memory - the close intimacy of jostling limbs, shadows and half-faces. This isn't a club for beautiful people, yet there are beautiful people inside. The girl...

Your body moves involuntarily, ambushed by syncopation, low frequency, the machine hiss of music taut against your throat, a grinding, industrial intake of breath. Enthralled to the rhythms, you are out of time, out of body, your mind pure sensation. Pressure waves of sound make their own shapes, their own spatial awareness, make your arms and legs move of their own accord, bypassing your consciousness. Slower, faster, louder, softer. Your head is full of echoes, flashes of light and static, glances and touches, the persistent drone of machine music. The bass thuds like a heartbeat.

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She twitches to the noise, eyes hyper, pupils wide as moons.

She moves closer...

IT KILLS (Rendered Remix), The Soft Moon
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ba22M0CsMdU

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Sun-scorched Photo
It looks like a photograph of someone leaping in the air at a beach, that was taken either just before sunrise or sunset. A harsh lens flare obscures much of the picture, almost giving it the appearance of being partially burnt, making it difficult to discern much of the features or the identity of whomever the mysterious photo depicts.

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"Donnie" Raoul
-Don't listen to her, man. You need to getcha money up, blood! (Raoul makes a bizarre hand sign) I done dropped the address, blood, I finna get with everything illegal under the sun, you feel me? Imma real G, y'all done gang bangin' with da REAL G! This jam is fo' real, blood, y'all like this, this jam be real drippy like an orgy, orgy at the end of the world, man! It's the money bop, man! Y'all can't miss out on this! Imma gon' do my dance, they know I got mah juice, hmmm yeah, Imma 'bout to take a trip to the stars, baby! Mmmh mmhmm, ooh yeah!

As Raoul sends the location of his underground rave to your phone, you can see at a glance that it is being held at a highly questionable destination downtown, near a construction site at a now abandoned shopping mall.

Heather rolls her eyes in exasperation:
-This is so lame. You are so lame. These poseurs! Red Masque rave? It sounds so stupid. What are they? -Like goths, or communists? I really don't think you fit into their scene, Donnie...

Donnie Raoul
-Dang, don't play me, lil' bop, Imma gonna lose it, bustin out all mah moves bringin' chu the jam downtilly - betchu don't even thank me, this gon' be all I get?

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As Heather and Raoul argue, you notice you appear to have a large amount of unanswered calls on your phone. The notifications had been hidden, because these automatically rejected missed calls had originated from an unknown caller. But now another voice message has just arrived, again from an unknown sender, and the tone of voice though distressed seems familiar...

File: vittorio-bonapace-001-copy.jpg (481 KB, 1920x960)

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Unknown Number
-...gotta pick up the phone... you gotta help me, bro... I'm in so much trouble... I can't even believe this is happening... This girl I met last night, bro, she seemed real friendly, she seemed down for some fun, you know...

File: 20240523_114106.jpg (119 KB, 1000x671)

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...and next thing this morning, bro, my phone is missing, I'm thinking, she took it, maybe she thinks it has evidence or something on it, and she is on me, bro, she is crazy, I mean CRAZY, she is making all these accusations like I hurt her or something, I swear, I didn't do anything, bro, I wouldn't-

File: 20240523_114043.jpg (169 KB, 1000x870)

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-...I mean, I barely even remember what happened, but she was calling around and making all these threats against me, like really harassing me, you know? And then when I tried to explain myself she just goes silent and hangs up on me dead. I don't know what to do, bro, you gotta help me... help me... please... help me...

File: forever-j-aa.jpg (470 KB, 1200x1800)

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Finlay
When you are young, in your teens and twenties, it can seem like everyone is the same. Everyone parties a lot and overspends, lives in the worst places and neglects to clean. Everyone looks good in everything.

As you age, this begins to change. You begin to notice who can buy houses, invest in their careers; who can even afford children, someday. You begin to notice who has the start-up capital and contacts to launch their own business, follow their own creativity and do what they love, make art; hire assistants, sell their business, travel the world. And you notice too all the others, those that get sick, those that forget to stay in contact, those that simply disappear.

You knew Finlay before then, but you haven't gotten in touch with him in a long while. He's a good-looking, easygoing guy. You know the myth of discovery? Someone sees in you something you can’t see yourself or don’t have the resources to cultivate, and they make it happen for you. It happened for Finlay, and he left you behind.

File: milx-kambari-torabi-1.jpg (1.65 MB, 2534x2385)

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You possess: Rejection Letter

The Elbridge Colony Residency
since 1907
Giving Artists Freedom To Grow

Dear (...)

We regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you a residency this coming Summer season. Your work was appreciated by our panel members, but we have seen an expanded and growing pool of excellent and accomplished applications, as the competition for residencies increases every year.

Very few Artists remain on our waiting list in order to avoid disappointment for those who kept their schedules open in the past.

We hope that this news will not discourage you from applying for the Residency next year; we wish you the very best.

Sincerely

Leanne Warden-Hewson
Executive Director
Elbridge Residency

PS Your work samples will be returned to you within three weeks to the address provided.

File: 20240616_204011.jpg (403 KB, 1908x1078)

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(below the letter is a watermarked standard description)

"Every year, the Elbridge Colony Arts Fellowship welcomes artists, writers, researchers and thought leaders from a variety of disciplines to stay at Mirage House, Mosaic Palisades, Edendale, an oceanfront retreat where the mountains meet the sea. The program's mission is to explore the intersection of nature, art, and consciousness in order to allow for an evolution of human connection with the natural world. Studio, living spaces and a stipend are provided, with the opportunity for a solo exhibition at the end of the term.

In collaboration with our joint project through Urban Philanthropy for Youth Regeneration at Imago Venture Partners, participants at Elbridge are encouraged to engage with and support the local community in their creative endeavours, through Structural Adjustment Programs to help personal and shared growth. Established, developed and emerging artists may all apply for the Elbridge arts residency."

>send a message to the Unknown Number (write-in)
>ask: What exactly happened last night, Finlay?
>ask: Where are you now?
>ask: What did this girl look like? How did you meet? etc.
>Promise: Calm down, Finn. It's all going to be fine. I'll help you get this cleared up. It's probably all just a misunderstanding.
>something about this situation with the voice message feels strange. What could it be? (write-in)

>play the voice message to Heather and Donnie Raoul
>Finlay seems to have gotten into trouble. We should find him and help him

>don't tell Heather and Raoul about the voice message
>say to Raoul: I'm up for this underground goth music party. I am going to dance like the world ends tonight. Unless you want to be left out Heather, you should join in

>something else (write in)

>>6037325
>send a message to the Unknown Number (write-in)
>fym "help me"? are you asking me to run a fade on this psycho bitch you hooked up with or w/e
>give me the tea rn

>>6037325
>play the voice message to Heather and Donnie Raoul

More perspectives seem good, although honestly OP spacing got me confused about how the choices here work

>>6037325
>ask: Where are you now?

>>6037325
>>say to Raoul: I'm up for this underground goth music party. I am going to dance like the world ends tonight. Unless you want to be left out Heather, you should join in

File: 20240617_032910.jpg (1.07 MB, 974x1484)

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An image resurfaces in your mind, from the night when you met Her...

It must have been projected in stroboscopic lighting against the pulsating nightclub walls. You witnessed mere flashes of it, illuminated in high voltage, glimpses amidst angular, contorted bodies crammed together, lost in the lightning. No-one else saw it, it faded as it was witnessed only by you. A stampede, the rush of wild horses, a herd in frenzy, a blur of bared teeth and tusk and dust and horns. But interspersed in the rush, a slashed afterimage of stillness, cut in time against the industrial rhythm of reverberations, the lull of the beat.

It resembled a rippling pixel field, lost signal, glitch distortion, annihilated meaning. Against that seething ocean of static, of extinction, parting the contours of shoals like a sinuous knife in water, the shadow of a carcharodon, a macropredator - the last of its kind. Hunting for the scent of red.

File: 20240523_112659.png (1.98 MB, 1200x1420)

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FEAR
+(Controlled:) alertness, situational awareness, knowledge and anticipation of threat. Perhaps confronting your own terrors might give you some insight into the fears and anxieties of others?
-(Breakdown:) sheer panic and paralysed helplessness. Some try to hide it, overreact with bravado, overcompensate by trying daredevil stunts they later regret

File: dannylailai- (1).jpg (430 KB, 1920x1066)

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INNOCENCE
+People come to you willingly to confide their secrets, seek out advice. You have that eager, believable and naive look.
-Overwhelming cynicism and paranoia. You can't trust anyone. It makes it easy to lie to them.

File: KOM_I-Shedding--Wednesday(...).jpg (105 KB, 880x1100)

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CRUELTY
+Machiavellian instrumentalism. They are not people, only playthings
-You didn't hear the safe word. Pain is a release, a relief from the guilt weighing upon your own conscience. Punish others, or yourself?

File: bernardo-cruzeiro-15.jpg (1.21 MB, 2660x2160)

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OUTRAGE
+The world is just so disgusting. People are so shameless, and you hate them all. You should tell the internet and incite a hate mob to do something about it
-You are not easily embarrassed or humiliated; you are quite a chilled out, calm, detached individual. So detached that a lot of the time people forget you are even there, and just ignore you

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You possess:
Heel Knife

It feels like it belongs to you, but when you turn the heel-shaped handle around in your hand, you are not quite sure. Was this some souvenir - did it belong to... Her?
>>6037308
>>6037310
>>6037307

You don't think this very small folding knife could really present much threat or damage, though it feels light and swift and deft and sharp. Perhaps you could use it to prise open things. Knives are always useless in videogames. Maybe you shouldn't run around with it folded out?

File: harold-riverol-audifonos-(...).jpg (51 KB, 960x540)

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You possess:
Earphones

One of these days you will need to get rid of the hassle of fidgeting with entangled cables; inexpensive wireless earphones are readily available and offered by several brands, although you would probably need to upgrade your battered old phone first. But you have grown quite attached to your phone - after all, it is where you have stored that picture of Her. >>6037310
A photo taken of a photo. You wouldn't want to lose it...

You think about Finlay losing his phone. If his mysterious Hookup Girl had really taken his phone last night - and he is calling from an unknown number - how is she then calling him, threatening him? It doesn't feel right... But maybe he just has another phone, maybe he gave her several contact numbers. Maybe she sent him a threatening email or something. There is probably some explanation for it.

As you are pulling at the strangled knots of these wired earphones, a sudden burst of lyrics jolts you out of your reverie concerning Finlay's predicament.

>>6037501
>"RUN A FADE"
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/juicewrld/runafade.html
>>6037526
>play the voice message to Heather and Donnie Raoul

There is some volume control / playback toggle on these wired earphones and you must have accidentally pressed it. Your eardrums are blasted and assaulted by sonic bursts from one song, "All Girls Are the Same",
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/juicewrld/allgirlsarethesame.html

then another, "Already Dead",
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/juicewrld/alreadydead.html

as the playlist skips. You are not too sure about this artist, but wasn't that last song used in some annoying videogame?

You glance briefly at Donnie Raoul in dismay, and wonder if by the power of predetermination and proximity, invisible streaming playlist algorithms have already geolocated your position, decided upon your fix, and chosen to target incoherent rap lyrics as your next obsession. Heather always says she can tell what people are like from their music; you just need to really listen to them.

File: 20240617_073717.jpg (3.68 MB, 5888x3924)

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>>6037526
Right now, Heather's face is numb with shock and disbelief:
-This (she chokes back a sob) this... isn't him... it can't be... He wouldn't... he wouldn't do this to me? Would he? I know we haven't spoken- since... since he moved out (sobs) I just thought- thought- he would have some consideration... for my feelings... It's my hair, isn't it? The blue hair - Finn never liked it, he was always trying to get me to change it... I think he likes redheaded girls. I tried to explain to him, it was for my stream, to stand out on the video feed, the thumbnail previews with an eyecatching hairstyle colour, because there are very few girls on the internet with blue hair, you know, but it just made him think I was always trying to get attention, maybe if I just changed it, he wouldn't have left...

WATERCOLOUR EYES Lana Del Ray
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GBxs3W_Y8MU

Why you always doing that?
Breaking up with me then making up
Just to make me mad

I think that you taste like rock candy
Sweet like beaches, leave me all sandy
Why do you leave me with watercolour eyes?

Young love don't always last forever
Wild horses can't keep us together
So what if you taste just like heaven
That don't make it right

Hot summer and cold watermelon
Your love stings like blood and a lemon
Why do you leave me with watercolour eyes?

Watercolour eyes, watercolour eyes, watercolour eyes
That don't make it right

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Donnie Raoul appears to be typing on his phone on some imageboard. He isn't paying too much attention
- Hol' up, blood, Imma checkin' on mah gram, aight, aint no chasin' clout but the cash, Man. Imma finna blowin' up on the gram, yo, me and mah gang, mah apes, fo' sho. So mah Finny Boy got the Lay-Lay, ayyy! Aight, he bussin, he bussin, keepin' it real low, yeah, I don't breed no ho, yeah

>>6037554
>ask: Where are you now?
A text response comes back almost immediately from the Unknown Number:

-"DTLA"

File: 8168864552_6fc2edcffe_o.jpg (3.31 MB, 2000x1333)

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Disincorporated Territories Lockdown Area

(on the online image forum,
boards.4kennel.org/x )

Anonymous asks
-What goes on down here?
IMAGE NO LONGER AVAILABLE
-I was flying into the airport around midnight and took this photo through the window and there is this blacked out district over the city, barely any electric lights or signs of life or anything. I can't find anything online or on any maps about this region? Have you guys seen anything like this? What is happening?

Anonymous replies
-Immigrants

Anonymous replies
-Just homeless encampments. Go there, get robbed

Anonymous replies
-Militarised gentrification

File: unnamed.png (95 KB, 512x379)

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User DRACOul replies
-The getto, blood, yeah I spell it without the "h" yeah. I ain't thuggin' but you'll crumble with the heat, boy you gotta go deep with the glocks out, blood, razors and the rainbow lasers yo

User Bish09 replies
-So you know the DEAD INTERNET THEORY right none of the comments online are real they are all AI-generated by machines to lure in humans but you see it is actually worse than you even think because the AIs have already read the internet like twice or three times over the AI devoured everything there isn't enough data left generated by living beings so what they are doing they are resurrecting the dead people right to generate more data I think it is some top secret military war experiment they make the dead people kill each other over and over again in some urban battle simulation also they need the power for the AI that is why there is a blackout and they are training and experimenting with your mind until you die and join them and...

Anonymous replies
-reading this gave my brain an aneurysm

(Thread archived. You cannot reply anymore.)

File: IMG_5228.jpg (286 KB, 1180x1699)

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>Look for Finlay downtown, OR

>Find the location of the underground rave

FEAR
>Turn to Heather and Donnie Raoul, and ask: isn't it strange that Finlay claims to have lost his phone - so how is his Hookup Girl getting in touch with him and threatening him?
>DTLA looks dangerous. We should avoid that area. I really wish I had gotten into this Elbridge Residency, the beach house looks so beautiful...

INNOCENCE
>Turn to Heather: I think your blue hair looks fine. You shouldn't change who you are for anyone else.

CRUELTY
>(to Heather) Yes your blue hair looks really bad. You should cut it all off
>(draw HEEL KNIFE), hey look, I'll help you cut off your disgusting blue hair right now. How about a makeover?

OUTRAGE
>ask Donnie Raoul to start a bait thread on boards.4kennel.org/vg with the title, AWARD-WINNING VIDEOGAME DESIGNER IS A RAPIST (proof inside)

>something else...? (write-in)
QM: you can try anything, attempt to write in any action, but also cite a specific emotion to provoke a stronger response

(QM: apologies I wrote the update before I saw this post >>6037828
So the binary choice above is just the final reconfirmation of this decision)

>>6037897
>Find the location of the underground rave

>Turn to Heather and Donnie Raoul, and ask: isn't it strange that Finlay claims to have lost his phone - so how is his Hookup Girl getting in touch with him and threatening him?

>>6037897
>Look for Finlay downtown

INNOCENCE
>Turn to Heather: I think your blue hair looks fine. You shouldn't change who you are for anyone else.

File: rebecca-campbell-WR3UbT5g(...).jpg (2.19 MB, 4737x3377)

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>>6037962
>>6037962
>Turn to Heather: I think your blue hair looks fine
-I'm fine, I am really ok... really -
(Heather pushes you away gently, turns and wipes some sodden electric blue strands of hair from her cheeks. Her hair is indeed very very blue. She seems to have regained her composure after her brief outburst)

File: darshan-gajara-xv09UYi6jS(...).jpg (1.42 MB, 5184x3456)

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(Heather continues...)
-I am so embarrassed, I never- I mean, usually I am the one giving the relationship advice online, you know? About how we should be trying to de-centre ourselves from men, so that our lives don't revolve around them all the time? Like the cinema thing, that test in movies, about how there should be at least two named women talking in conversation with each other, on a topic that is not about men or their relationship to men. But it isn't easy, when it is your own life - just hearing his voice brought up a lot of the old bad feelings... I think it is because when I was working on the videogame, Super Vampire Basher (SVB) it was just a very male-dominated industry, all the community fans were male, there were some really sick and twisted ones, especially from that 4kennel image board... so I didn't have a lot of time to connect with any female support network, make many friends. And Finlay isn't- I mean, he isn't very controlling or domineering or anything like that, he is a nice person, I suppose, nice but- it just, it is hard to describe, he- just... everything just comes really easily to him, you know? I just felt a bit inadequate. Like I wasn't good enough, I needed him to fit in... But then, he doesn't really do anything! Like he calls himself a videogame designer, he doesn't design anything! Before I came along, he just had some stupid drawings and concepts and assets he stole from some 3d marketplace, it was all really derivative. And I was the one who actually came up with all the monetisation and marketing, who built all the awareness and outreach, the wishlist hype and funnel conversion to downloads and updates and ongoing fan community engagement. But somehow, all the awards and fame went to him...!

(optional)
>encourage Heather in her idea, to "de-centre" herself from men

>(point accusing finger) YOU! YOU are the one! You have literally RUINED ALL THE VIDEOGAMES!! I am going to... uh, I am going to... make a thread on 4kennel about this conversation. YOU WILL BE EXPOSED!! THE ENTIRE WORLD MUST KNOW about you and your blue-haired justice brigade monetisation schemes!

>ask Heather: so, tell me more about these marketing techniques. What do they involve? Can you make people want things, desire things? Even if it is against their own will or inclination? Is that possible?

>Reply: it seems like you still dwell on him often, Heather. Do you want to get back together with Finlay? You have to work on any relationship together

>Reply: from what you told me, Finlay is really manipulative. You should forget him. I suppose the idea about goths is they don't care about what others ever think about them? So once we find this amazing underground party and dance, let's never even mention him, ever again (QM: persuade Heather to leave Finlay to his own fate)

>(something else...?)

>>6038142
>>encourage Heather in her idea, to "de-centre" herself from men

File: victoryluode-fff.jpg (350 KB, 1920x817)

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>>6037901
You ask Donnie Raoul about the peculiar situation that Finlay described - if it was indeed his voice recorded on the received Unknown Number message. Donnie Raoul shrugs in a noncommittal manner:
-No clue, blood. But mah apes back up in da hood, when we is got the fiends beggin', we be rangin' on them burner phones, yeah. Imma just cruisin' and trippin', low key yo, set up and throw away, ice cold

Heather also mentions
-I think Finlay does have multiple phones, I don't know about any burner phones though, that seems a bit suspicious to me. But we used to have one phone for business development, another for managing community socials, as well as personal phones, it just helped with keeping everything separate, on separate devices separate logins, for NDAs and things, to prevent any mistakes or embarrassing accidental disclosures

>Ask Donnie Raoul: can you set me up with a better phone?

>Ask: how about some, uh, party favours? If you know what I mean? What I mean is..., uh, the narcotics. Illegal ones. I want to be in a good mood for this rave. Also I listened to some music from this artist (see here >>6037890 ) I was really inspired by his life and what he made of it, a very good inspirational influence

>Ask: ok this location, this abandoned shopping mall construction site place? It looks pretty dangerous. I want a gun. Goths are pretty violent. I saw this film about some crow bird-man, it didn't end too well, better safe than otherwise
QM: it is literally FKA Twigs and the soundcloud rapper Crow trailer
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=djSKp_pwmOA

>(Brandish the Heel Knife, show it off to Donnie Raoul) what do you think of this, heh? Pretty gangsta, right? Have you ever seen anything like this before?

>Try and use your phone and Strange Earphones on Donnie Raoul. Look into his soul... or at least his music playlist. What is it like? (QM: brace yourself)

>Something else...?

>>6038142
>encourage Heather in her idea, to "de-centre" herself from men

>>6038169
>Try and use your phone and Strange Earphones on Donnie Raoul. Look into his soul... or at least his music playlist. What is it like? (QM: brace yourself)

The true measure of a man? What's in his playlist.

>>6038142
>Reply: it seems like you still dwell on him often, Heather. Do you want to get back together with Finlay? You have to work on any relationship together

>>6038169
>Try and use your phone and Strange Earphones on Donnie Raoul. Look into his soul... or at least his music playlist. What is it like? (QM: brace yourself)

File: stephanie-valencia-4iL7UM(...).jpg (3.18 MB, 3265x4898)

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>>6038189
>>6038248
>look into Donnie Raoul's soul, or at least his music playlist
It is about a 30-minute drive from the beach to the Dead Mall downtown.

You spend the time surreptitiously attempting to probe into the darkest recesses of Donnie's innermost psyche; what song truly epitomises the pinnacle of his street swagger, his authentic persona?

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You grit your teeth, as you harden yourself and prepare to be immersed in the filth, the misogyny, the incomprehensibility of endless references to crime, vaginas, lurid descriptions of all the fluids and smells that emanate from the aforementioned, guns, gang shootings, black people, buttocks, the male member, prostitutes, drugs, prison, broken homes and families, social degradation, and worst of all, luxury brand product placement.

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CHE FARO SENZA EURIDICE, Christoph Willibald Gluck
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=D2EoqOcIuuM

QM: I especially enjoyed this performance, as the dramatic hand gestures of the male singer appear to indicate that he desires breast enlargement

Che farò senza Euridice?
Dove andrò senza il mio ben?

Che faro, Dove andrò
Che faro senza il mio ben?
Dove andrò senza il mio ben?

Euridice! Euridice!
Oh Dio! Rispondi!...Rispondi!

Io son pure il tuo fedel!
Io son pure il tuo fedel!
Io tuo fedel!

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You are truly baffled. There must be some mistake, some flaw with the omniscient infallibility of the all-knowing recommendation algorithm. Perhaps this Gluck refers to some make of handgun used in gang shootings. The language is probably some form of impenetrable ethnic latino street slang.

At some point, you suspect that Donnie Raoul himself suspects that you are up to something. He is deeply immersed as usual by the glow of social media and imageboards from his phone, and to your surprise he doesn't say anything, but you can tell because he keeps glancing up quickly and furtively in sporadic intervals to look guiltily at your face every now and then, as if he were trying to discern what you are doing.

Eventually, you notice that the next song queued on your algorithmic stream changes more predictably to

GINE 6ix9ine
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DmKpePzn5-c
QM: Evidently this video features the most beautiful women of America

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>>6038248
>try to persuade Heather to get back together with Finlay etc.
>>6038166
>>6038189
>encourage Heather to "de-centre" herself from men
As you begin to approach the location of the Dead Mall, you notice your phone signal begins to flicker erratically. You keep losing connectivity for a few tens of seconds, only for it to be subsequently restored a moment later. Donnie Raoul explodes in frustration, yelling at his phone:
-Finna bury you! Suck mah dick with yo' mama's lips! (violently shaking his phone in a gesture of futility for a signal) And look (turning to Heather) your man ain't never comin' back, funny - You tryna fuck or what? If y'all go lesbian, Imma finna join in. Little eater, uh-huh

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Heather is delighted at your support for her idea of trying to de-emphasise men in her life. She responds enthusiastically
-I think it will be really spiritual. I saw online there is this ritual, it is called Scream Therapy. It is based on this idea that when we repress ourselves, hold ourselves back emotionally, it actually induces a physiological burden... it causes our entire bodies to tense up... so as part of the healing process, to release all the unresolved pain, you should just let it all out. A bit like what Donnie is doing, except... I probably wouldn't use his, er, exact words. So maybe I should give it a try, right? Like my cleansing ritual, my healing ritual, to get over... (Heather takes a deep breath) no, I am not going to say his name, he is no longer a part of my life any more. This shopping mall looks pretty abandoned and deserted,
>>6038169
probably a good safe space to give Scream Therapy a try. (Heather touches you gently by the arm) would you... would you like to join me? It would mean so much if you came along...

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>Let Heather try out this Scream Therapy at the Dead Mall, as part of her cathartic healing ritual to get over men
>Join in and support Heather. (QM: write-in if there is some phrase you would like to scream loudly at the Dead Mall)

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>(glance around nervously) er... is this Dead Mall... is it really deserted? Maybe we should look around first?

>Reply: this is the most stupid idea I have ever heard. I cannot believe you would fall for any of this nonsense

>Reply: let's just find where this underground party is being held, you should save your energy for dancing

>Something else? Write in. For example, you could suggest / try and find a particular mall location to scream loudly and cathartically

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>>6038303
pic related

>>6038307
>Join in and support Heather.
>"I LOVE LATINAS"

>>6038309
>Write-in: Try to find a way to the roof to scream.

>>6038457
Support

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>>6038457
>>6038720
>climb to the roof of the Dead Mall
The interior of this abandoned shopping mall is vast and cavernous. You try to imagine it during a more bright and prosperous era, filled with families and laughing children, cotton candy and ice cream attendants and cinemagoers and the whirling lights of arcades, teenagers flirtatious and sullen, maybe even some mall goths among them, secretly and desperately yearning for their first, hopeful glance of attraction, infatuation...

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What you find instead is complete desolation.

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All storefront remnants appear smashed and looted, all slivers of glass and twisted doorframes, coiled heaps of ugly metal commercial security shutters. Overturned retail gondola shelving, pedestals, stanchions and queue barrier posts scattered as if torn down by a hurricane.

You see some shopping trolleys, the protruding handles of wheeled luggage, now ripped and shredded; blue tarpaulins and collapsed tents, signs of habitation by homeless people - but it seems that even vagrants have since avoided this place, or been driven from it now altogether.

In a moment of clumsiness and awkward movement, Heather's foot encounters some warped fragment of metal.

There is an immensely loud, resonant clang.

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The clang reverberates down the hollow emptiness of ruined mall walkways.

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Nothing happens.

Heather stamps and shakes her bruised foot ruefully:
-Ow! That really hurt! oh (she lowers her voice to a whisper) maybe we should be quiet? I feel like we shouldn't disturb this place... well, you know, quiet until when we get to the roof, and start screaming. For therapy! Spiritual healing! I feel like this is really going to go well, it is really going to work!

You look at the metal fragment that Heather tripped over. It seems burnt and blackened and damaged.

>>6038457
>..."I LOVE LATINAS"
The language is completely incomprehensible to you, but you sense that it was part of some sign - perhaps a dual language sign? and this sign demarcated some territory...

(unreadable scorched and blackened section above)
...
...
ARTILLERIA INEXPLOTADA (UXO) Y PIEZAS EXPLOSIVAS
PELIGROSAS PUEDEN PERMANECER EN ESTA AREA
...
...
(the sign continues, but the remainder is illegible)

Heather puzzles over the sign:
-hmmm, well, I don't really understand it. It probably came from some luxury boutique. There are a lot of vintage stores where this distressed / aged and weathered look is really raw, really fashionable. People upcycle these "found art" objects all the time, use it for sculpture and exhibition installations. Hey..! (Heather's face flashes in excitement) I just had an idea! Since you are helping me overcome my relationship issues... maybe I can help you too! Weren't you really upset at being rejected by your fancy art residency?
>>6037324
>>6037325
Well, maybe you could scavenge around here for some art materials, "found art" objects! The curators will be so impressed! Especially because you are repurposing and sourcing materials from the local community!

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You possess:
Heap Of Crap
("Poubellisme", Trash Art)

It is literally what it looks like. This is Art; pure Art. The thing about art is, almost anything can be found in there, somewhere. You just have to be willing to smell bad, and rummage around.

>touch the Incomprehensible Sign ("Artilleria Inexplotada..." etc)
>add the Incomprehensible Sign to your "art collection". You never know, it might be useful someday
>you are going to smell terrible if you pursue a career in Art this way by carrying around an actual trash heap. You are not sure if goths will accept this as a fashion accessory; maybe they will deny you entry to their incredibly exclusive secret underground party. You should discreetly find an inconspicuous corner and dump this Heap Of Crap
>wait... you... have a phone right? You can literally just translate it! Now what happened to the phone signal...? oh
>Something else? (write in)

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Eventually, after wandering through endless unoccupied and ransacked mall walkways and halls, you discover an escalator to the topmost retail level; there is a utility and maintenance access from here to the roof.

As you are climbing the narrow stairway for roof access, Heather looks at you with an abashed, self-conscious glance, as she stutters:
-I... thanks for supporting me on this. But I - I think I have changed my mind. Oh, I still mean to perform the ritual, thank you so much for encouraging me to do it! It's just- I would rather- I mean, it is something I have to do on my own. I would prefer if you didn't hear what I shout into the sky. If that is alright with you? It is just- just really personal, I have to keep some boundaries intact. I think the mall roof is big enough that you can probably stand on the opposite side out of earshot and indulge in your own Scream Therapy session, if that is still what you want. But I just- just want to keep my words private. Do you see what I mean?

For the first time, you become suddenly aware of how close she is standing next to you. Close enough to feel the heat of skin. Perhaps it is just the height of the ruined mall elevator, the multiple floors and levels, the teetering balance of balconies and stacked tiers of vacant stores beneath you, but your head feels a sudden lurching sensation, swung out on vertigo.

>Reply: fine, whatever
>Reply: ok. Then secretly crouch at the base of the roof access (in a not at all leering perverted voyeur manner), and eavesdrop on what she has to say
>(Take Heather's hand possessively): Therapy only works if we do it together. You have to let it go. I'll help you. You can tell me anything, everything. Let it all go and forget-
>Leave Heather on her own. Maybe you can use the time to scavenge around the mall for a bit; surely there must be some shops that have not been completely looted? Perhaps try and find some stray clothes and attire for a goth party outfit (QM: you can write in any item that might reasonably be found in a extremely large commercial hypermall... with some luck it might be lying around buried under debris somewhere?)
>Girls - they are always changing their mind at the last minute. Hey I can change my mind too. (Push Heather down the escalator from the uppermost tier of the Dead Mall)
>something else...?

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When you emerge blinking from the gloom of the endless haunted labyrinth of walkways within the Dead Mall onto the rooftop and the vast expanse of open sky and sunlight above, you observe a peculiar sight.

You remember once experiencing a bizarre phenomenon, crossing as a pedestrian from one side of the road to the other, separated by a partition of torrential rain. Sunshine on one side and a downpour on the other. Localised rain? Isolated precipitation? It is perhaps not such an uncommon phenomenon - a raincloud has to end somewhere, so why not on the side of a road?

What you witness now from the Dead Mall rooftop reminds you of that memory. There is a building not too far from you, in the direction of DTLA - the Disincorporated Territories Lockdown Area
>>6037893
>>6037895
- where you can see a significant crowd of people have gathered. They are standing in pouring rain, whilst your side is bathed in lingering sunshine. You are not sure what the crowd are doing - is it an evacuation drill, a mandatory fire drill of some sort? Could they perhaps be the goth music concertgoers, en route to your party? Maybe it could be some sort of film set, are they shooting stunts or capturing footage for a motion picture there? You didn't encounter much traffic or see any pedestrians approaching from the beach. The large crowd seems a little restless - and you notice there appears to be a small cohort of indistinct observers, positioned along the corresponding rooftop of the distant building, watching them.

Everything is so far away, making the perspective of the large crowd and the surveillance observers seem almost unreal from your vantage point, as if you were watching some drone feed or helicopter chase camera footage, and not spectating upon a live scene. The sight makes you uneasy, as if some cataclysm had suddenly unfolded amidst the most banal circumstances of apparent normality.

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In the direction of DTLA,
>>6037893
>>6037895
you see a gargantuan black cloud, a maelstrom as an inverted mountain. It shocks you in its resemblance to an utter hellscape. It seems as if some form of slow-moving storm is advancing over the horizon - yet the edge of it, the boundary of bad weather, cutoff exactly at the demarcation between these two buildings near the Dead Mall. Sunshine on one side, rain on the other.

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>Well there is probably some explanation for this. Maybe cloud seeding? Or they are rehearsing special effects for a blockbuster disaster film. That is probably what it is happening
>Pyrocumulonimbus - It is an unusual phenomenon but not entirely unexpected. Sunshine and drought produces wildfires, convection clouds that churn and create their own winds, updraft and downburst, which might cause that unnatural looking rain / sunshine cutoff boundary. It is just a coincidence that the black maelstrom cloud induced rainfall storm zone cuts off precisely at the demarcation region between DTLA and where you stand
>The ominous black inferno cloud, the agitated crowd, DTLA - is Finlay in there somewhere? And his vengeful Hookup Girl... What has been unleashed??
>Ok QM, I see what this is, you have created Stalker Shadow Of Chernobyl Zone anomalies. Because unseemly hookups, rape and nuclear fallout are tantamount to the same thing. Phones will probably become unreliable in that electromagnetic storm. Head back into the shopping mall and try and loot / improvise gas masks and weapons. Clearly the QM has some sort of gas mask fetish, which can only be stopped by commencing extraction shooter mode right now
>That Arts Residency beach house is probably the best place to hide out from the storm. Maybe try to infiltrate it somehow?
>Just ignore all of this, walk back into the Dead Mall, and try and find the underground goth party. It is what you came for. The last party, the last rave at the end of the world.
(something else...?)

>>6038940
>Leave Heather on her own. Maybe you can use the time to scavenge around the mall for a bit; surely there must be some shops that have not been completely looted? Perhaps try and find some stray clothes and attire for a goth party outfit

Try to find black booty shorts. Goth chicks love man-ass

>>6038951
Supporting this. We need to find a good fit if we want to pull some goth latinas.

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>>6038951
>>6038985
You acquiesce and decide to respect Heather's boundaries, leaving her to enact her own therapy. She is very grateful and happy, and quickly ascends to the roof to begin working on her regimen of emotional release through primal screaming.

You suddenly realise that you are now very much alone, wandering all by yourself in the abandoned Dead Mall.

Donnie Raoul is nowhere to be found - you have a feeling he was not too keen on participating in feminist relationship catharsis anyway. He has probably left you to loot stores or sell drugs.

Your mind quickly turns to what would be appropriate and avant garde to wear to an underground summer goth party. Goths are known for their elaborate and antiquated impractical formalwear. But what if... you took something that had been de-casualised, elevated to formal occasionwear, and then transposed it back to an alternative sartorial context, for instance... the de-casualisation of shorts! Black goth couture shorts, that expose sunburnt knees and impress with a flattering thigh-calf ratio in a youthful yet forceful, hard-edged ensemble. The sheer masculinity of this look cannot be questioned; it shall become the loincloth of the corporate age.

HANG ME UP TO DRY Cold War Kids
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UyI5Noafito

Careless in our summer clothes, splashing around
In the muck and the mire
Careless in our summer clothes, splashing around
In the muck and the mire

Fell asleep with stains
Cake deep in the knees
What a pain

Now hang me up to dry
You wrung me out
Too too too many times

Now hang me up to dry
I'm pearly like the whites
The whites of your eyes

All mixed up in the wash
Hot water bleeding our colors

All mixed up in the wash
Hot water bleeding our colors

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>>6038951
>>6038985
>>6039016
Black Leather Goth Shorts (exceptionally tight fitting)
-You imagine it as having disturbing corsetry lacing down the sides, and in the, er... central crotch pouch region. You assume it is unisex? Just looking at it makes your waist constrict uncomfortably as a symphony of mournful graveyard notes stirs around your pelvis; you can practically imagine a runnel of sweat, grit and trapped beach sand flecks gathering in a cleft right now. You estimate that (owing to the rather short and immodest length of this attire) these black shorts would make you look only about 15% Goth.

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As your mind begins to enact this genius plan, turns to leap towards triumphant flights of imaginative possibility - you can almost see it now! Those foolish committees and directors overseeing the Elbridge Colony Arts Fellowship will never even see what they are missing with your runway collection debut, your supreme sartorial genius for ultimate high fashion tastemaking! And you can see the beginnings of it right now... for there is literally a pair of black leather GOTH SHORTS in a wrecked boutique across the mall walkway, half-submerged in rubbish, waste packaging and debris... Your sartorial triumph is very nearly within your grasp...

...Except that this pair of black shorts appears to be attached to the trunk of a person, half-buried in disgusting wastepaper refuse and discarded food wrappers...

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Jerome The Wizard
He would describe himself probably as more of a warlock, actually.

Jerome is snoring contentedly beneath the mound of rubbish and waste. He looks like a homeless person, and smells very bad.

In addition to wearing the Black Leather Goth Shorts (ultra tight fitting), Jerome also wears:

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One Percenter Jacket
It is a black leather biker jacket, complete with intimidating studded metal and chains and assorted patches. You assume this is what the 1% wears? Presumably that refers to the Pareto distribution of income, or the wealthiest 1% of High Net Worth Individuals in society? Girls always fall for the bad boys. Maybe wearing this jacket will help you behave as if you belong to this "One Percent", the elite of society. You think this jacket makes you look 40% Goth

>well, those violent denigratory rap lyrics you heard from Donnie Raoul will probably help now...
Ain't no pitty-pat, run up on a nigga, give me that
Where your jewelry at? Stupid lil' nigga, give me that
Where your blicky at? Pull up on him, make it brr-at
Bitch, you know that when I see you we gon' make it brr-at
I got this flicky, flicky, flicky shot, make him Milly Rock
Silly Blicky, caught a dizzy shot, made him Diddy Bop
Still be posted by the chicken spot, got my city hot
Silencer, that shit go, "Shh," but this .40 pick a shot
(...)
>>6038303

>Rob this homeless person, Jerome The Wizard, of their clothes as they sleep
>steal the Black Goth Leather Shorts (ultra tight-fitting)
>steal the One Percenter Jacket

>attempt to steal the clothes with stealth
>You need to build up your reputation on the street (?) You should wake up the Homeless Person, Jerome The Wizard, first - then draw your Heel Knife, and intimidate him into pathetically surrendering his clothes. Word will spread of this incredibly bold and daring act, enhancing your street cred
>wake up Jerome The Wizard politely, and try to convince him to give you your clothes. Maybe as a Homeless Person he does not have it all together? Maybe you could try and trick him into believing that he already agreed to give them to you, somehow? (You regretfully wonder if Heather's powers of Marketing >>6038142 could have helped...)

>Something else? write-in (QM: eg you could try searching Jerome The Wizard / Homeless Person for other items, eg his sunglasses? Ask Jerome - what happened here, why aren't more Homeless People taking shelter at the Dead Mall? etc)

>>6039026
>>Rob this homeless person, Jerome The Wizard, of their clothes as they sleep
>>steal the Black Goth Leather Shorts (ultra tight-fitting)
>>steal the One Percenter Jacket

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>>6039157
>Steal the clothes of Jerome the Wizard, as he sleeps

It is actually working. Jerome is snoring, and you hold your breath as you unfasten his black leather biker jacket - he has it reversed, with the back of it covering his chest like a blanket, two dangling sleeves drooping across his chest - it is easy to extricate this from him in his inebriated unconscious state.

But as you attempt to unfasten the (ultra-tight fit) Black Leather Shorts... it is just too difficult, too ungainly... Just as you are on the verge of unclasping the precious, coveted garment, the Wizard turns contentedly in his sleep, and his weatherbeaten face and bleary eyes awaken to the aghast shock of realisation -

Jerome The Wizard:
-(snarling / wheezing in indignant fury) hhhmmnnaraggagagagahh...
You turn back and fool along slow, I hain't been gone yet!
(choking inhaled breath) waahbmnagagaramnmahmnnnn...
I warn't ever murdered an all!
hnaagahhmnnn...
Everythin' be quietin down in your brain-case there, before I knowed them by the colour of the outsides turned in!
waghnnmannhahnnn...

and with a menacing motion, he draws a

Serbu Super-Shorty
12ga Shotgun Shell
2 (+1) / 2
Pump Action

The action of this demented homeless person wuld be terrifying, if he actually had the shotgun pointed at you the right way round. Jerome fumbles and curses as he momentarily attempts to remember which end of the weapon to grip.

QM: to battle this fearsome opponent, you must write-in an action supported by one of the appropriate emotions. You can combine it with an item, for different effects, eg you could attempt to unsheathe your Heel Knife in a FEARful manner etc.
(write-in)
>FEAR
>INNOCENCE
>CRUELTY
>OUTRAGE

WALK AWAY Tom Waits
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ccVC5MjZEfs

Dot King was whittled from the bone of Cain
With a little drop of poison in the red red blood
She need a way to turn around the bend
She said I want to walk away and start over again

There are things I've done I can't erase
I want to look in the mirror see another face
I said, "never", but I'm doing it again
I wanna walk away, start over again

No more rain, no more roses
On my way, shake my thirst in a cool cool pond

There's a winner in every place
There's a heart that's beating in every page
The beginning of it starts at the end
When it's time to walk away and start over again

>>6039203
>INNOCENCE
>"Be careful! You're going to hurt yourself if you use it like that."
>Offer to take the weapon from him.
>"Here, I can show you the right way to hold it..."

>>6039218
I have no idea what's happening, so I'll go with this.

>>6039218
+1
Same boat as the other anon.

HOLY SHIT NEW SOUVARINE KINO IS HERE
FINALLY I CAN SEE MY WIFE THE ODALISQUE (vampire ver.) AGAIN
(I finally caught up with the thread)

>>6037279
I actually didn't understand at first what UPYR meant but then it clicked that it's yпыpь - Slavic vampire-like bloodsucking monster. Helps being from the area for once.
>>6037325
>Urban Philanthropy for Youth Regeneration - UPYR
ok I think I'm starting to get the subtle details now.

>>6039203
>CRUELTY
>Pull out the heel knife and stab the homeless person in the throat
>Loot the shotgun
As a two-time veteran of Souv's quests clearly the secret to success is LOOTING EVERYTHING whenever possible. The shotgun will be an invaluable asset when we inevitably come face-to-face with vampires. We just need to find silver shells somewhere.

Why not innocence - we need to obtain the shotgun, and the homeless person will probably want it back if we simply trick him, so there's no way around getting away except disposing of him or actually running, and in the latter case we'll have a raving madman chasing us around the mall, so I say we kill him.

As for goth shorts, I think we shouldn't take them, they probably smell horribly if a hobo wore them.

I'm not too hot on the goth under-rave, I think we should head straight into vampire murdering action in the DTLA, look for our friend Finlay. Leave Heather and Donnie to their fate, they're retarded characters anyway, I don't like them, I want to meet hot girls (non-sjw) already, I know they're out there, there's always a couple in Souv's quest.
>>6039311
>>6039596
From what I can tell, we're in an modern city. We remember a mysterious girl whom we've encountered at a rave, whether we look for her or not is our choice, Souv's quests from what I remember are rather sandbox-like (though it would be pretty boring to discard the plot hooks). We've got two companions, Donnie Raoul who seems the "modern retard gangsta rapper" type (you know them) and the sjw influencer Heather We went to the abandoned mall where apparently >>6038795 there are "UNEXPLAINED ARTILLERY (UXO) AND EXPLOSIVE PARTS DANGEROUS PEOPLE MAY REMAIN IN THIS AREA". Looking for goth shorts, we found a homeless person wearing them and after trying to steal them woke him up, and he pulled a fucking shotgun on us (though he doesn't understand how to use it). Seems pretty understandable to me. Never got why people are confused about Souv's quests.

>>6039604
Hm well thank you anon for the explanation.

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Sunshine Grimoire (Jerome The Wizard's Spell-Book)
It resembles a combination between a child's colouring-in book that you might find in a nursery, and a maternity journal for first-time expectant mothers, except as compiled and published by an insane homeless vagrant. There appear to be interleaving sheets filled with cartoonish drawings, illustrations and infantile stickers. Scrawled upon notched squares of gridded, absorbent paper (you notice a very slight astringent smell, a bit like printer toner or wafting ink of some sort) you see the ramblings of Jerome - he appeared to be obsessed with some sort of Blood Apocalypse, the impending arrival of a Promised Son (it might be, "Promised Sun", it is hard to discern from the blotted and stained handwriting) who would herald the unravelling of man through Uncreated Light. The arrival of this Promised One would first see harbingers in the form of storms and fire, and also some sort of a ritual involving a woman, taking place beneath a "Sign", though Jerome appeared uncertain as to what exact form this Sign would take, or indeed where its location could be.

There is however a lot of debate around "hiking" and "cutting" - perhaps this demonic sign is located on some remote mountain trail, with a female as the victim of a gruesome knife sacrifice?

From his demented ramblings you can tell that Jerome believed the destruction of this "Sign", or indeed of the woman before the commencement of the ritual, would avert this cataclysm and prevent the unspeakably horrifying unleashing of Uncreated Light. Yet from his morbid fascination with the Blood Apocalypse, you are bewildered as to whether Jerome appeared be working to avert the eschatological demise of all mankind, or instead to faciliate it. The spellbook also appears to contain a long list of contact details of Jerome The Wizard's associates.

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Suspicious Pilules
Though possessed of very few belongings in his personal stash, Jerome The Wizard appears at some stage to have raided and looted a confectionery store in this abandoned shopping mall. You can see many handfuls of colourful crystalline candies sugar-coated in rainbow delight. Many appear to be stamped with decorative sigils, or pentacle / pentagram icons. Yet your suspicions are aroused when you examine the packaging - in addition to many loose handfuls of rainbow coloured candy, Jerome also kept the packaged merchandise, which is presented in undeniably medical-looking blister packs of tablets. You recall that there is a street craze for highly addictive phenobarbital combat drugs, derivatives of captagon / phenethylline known as "Pentagons" after the popular five-pointed occult stars inscribed upon the compacted dosages. What began as a form of illicit psychostimulant intended to alleviate fatigue and tiredness, reduce the need for sleep was soon discovered to provoke pharmacokinetic side-effects of extreme delirium-aggression, hallucinations and uncontrollable hate-rage. You have never seen this "pentagon" combat drug before, but perhaps this was the narcotic alchemy that Jerome The Wizard was secretly hoarding?

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-Man, Donnie, you work real fast... I have no idea how you find these malparidos...

Pedro de Jesus Navarro, "Kenny"
Traqueto for The Cartel. Few dare ask why Pedro is known by so many aliases, "Jesus", "Kenny" etc, although it may have something to do with his miraculous ability at resurrection, having survived numerous near-fatal attacks, beatings and stabbings as inmate 04370-510 whilst imprisoned in a federal correctional institute.

(Pedro whistles appreciatively at your handiwork)
-Man, that really is something. Enemies not breathing makes me sing - that's my way of love, man. And Donnie, mi sangre, real good job finding this one - this one is the Trigger Man? Good job, real good job. And hey, I like your "chaqueta" (for some reason, Pedro smirks as he looks over your One Percenter Goth Black Leather Biker Jacket) very nice, man, ha ha.

You are wearing:
Earphones
>>6037890
One Percenter Jacket
>>6039026
Black Leather Goth Shorts (Ultra-Tight Fit)
>>6039019

You look about 55% = 40% + 15% Goth

You possess
Serbu Super-Shorty Shotgun
2(+0) / 2
12ga
>>6039203

Heel Knife (folded)
>>6037889

Elbridge Colony Arts Fellowship Residency Rejection Letter
>>6037324

Heap Of Crap ("Poubellisme" / Trash Art)
>>6038796

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Donnie Raoul seems unusually agitated for some reason. He keeps fidgeting with his tracksuit with one hand, whilst shaking his phone in his other hand, the glowing screen alternately casting contorted shadows over his tattooed face in garish illumination:
-yo, I was gon' blick this fucka- (Donnie Raoul abruptly stops himself, at the sight of Jerome The Wizard's headless corpse) I mean, no hesitation in extermination of these sni- I mean... bitches, yeah. I'm still money, I'm still itchin' for the warfare, blood. Touch mine and Imma destroy chu, yeah. Aint no-one listenin' for the payback; you watch yo' back, we come to the front, ayy

There is something about Donnie's behaviour which just seems really nervous and strange. You wonder if it is related to what you discovered through investigating his music playlist earlier - maybe you uncovered something that damages his street credibility.

You think it could also be because Donnie is somewhat cowed in the presence of Pedro, who is himself only a low-level street dealer, albeit one recently released on parole from prison. Maybe there is some hidden undercurrent of machismo, criminal hierarchy and respect, the chain of command amongst underworld dealings at play here, of which you are not aware.

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After this bizarre exchange, Pedro looks up at you expectantly. It seems like he wants something more:

>Explain yourself: I... it all happened so fast... I was acting in self-defence. I was just walking around on my own in this abandoned shopping mall and this insane homeless man attacked me, threatened me with this firearm. I think he was trying to steal my clothes! His gun must have discharged accidentally...

>Well, you have seen those cartel videos on boards.4kennel.org/gif so clearly what you should do is unsheathe the Heel Knife, cut out the heart of Jerome the Wizard and then set fire to his dismembered and shotgun-blasted corpse. Don't even speak a single word as you perform this act in front of Donnie and Pedro

>Respond to Pedro: I found this Sunshine Grimoire hidden in Jerome The Wizard's stash. It seems to have a list of contacts on it. Maybe this was his dealer network, encroaching on your turf? (Give Pedro the Sunshine Grimoire)
>>6039755

>Respond to Pedro: I found these Suspicious Pilules in the Wizard's stash. They are clearly drugs. Do they belong to you? (Give Pedro the Suspicious Pilules)
>>6039758

>(as above, but... hold back and keep a few handfuls of the loose rainbow tablets for yourself. They might be useful for the underground rave later)

>Don't mention anything to Pedro about the Sunshine Grimoire or Suspicious Pilules you found in the stash of Jerome, The Now Decapitated / Shotgun Blasted Wizard Corpse. It is a good idea to secretly hide drugs from Cartel dealers like Pedro

>Say to Donnie, without breaking eye contact with Pedro de Jesus: Donnie, you have some really strange music on your phone. What is that all about?

>Challenge Pedro: you know what the chain of command is, Pedro? It is the chain I use to beat your face when you don't listen to my commands. Donnie does as I say; he works for me, not you.

>Something else...? (write-in)

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>>6039755
>>6039758
>>6039761
>>6039770
>>6039775
QM: if you need to visualise the aftermath scene of the brutal shotgun murder of the homeless person Jerome the Wizard by his drugs stash within the haunted and empty maze of walkways within the Dead Mall, my virtual tabletop setup imagines it is something like this pic related

>>6039311
>>6039747
Ok after all I can actually see why this may be confusing, let me explain some stuff.

Basically Souv's quests consist of three fundamental parts: there's the main narrative: the happenings, the events, the dialogue, the main flow of the story, etc. which you probably understand - it is interspersed with blurbs about item descriptions, exposition of details about the setting and character introductions e.g. >>6039758 description of these pills or >>6037312 introduction of Donnie or >>6037284 through >>6037300 sets the general tone for the story, or finally >>6037885 explanation of mechanics. There's also the choices, they are a fundamental part of any quest, they are often schizophrenic and you don't need to vote for the pre-set ones, sometimes it is best to write-in a reasonable answer.

The narrative itself can be rather schizo as well. It often skips entire scenes and jumps to the next plot point, or we may be transported to another dimension by triggering some plot trap (e.g. the WW1 wasteland in ODALISQUE) but if you discard the sudden scene changes and just straight up think about what's happening, read the text and comprehend it you can figure out what's happening right now. e.g. from the context in this update it is certain we killed the hobo with a shotgun, Pedro gets introduced as him and Donnie find us in the aftermath, we also loot Jerome's corpse and get his items which are described in the initial parts. All this info is obtained by reading and understanding...

Ah, also the images. They may be obvious, like what's happening in the scene, a character portrait or something, and they may be, like the writing, setting the tone for the story, being metaphors for what's happening, for our memories, flashbacks etc. It is helpful to inspect them for a bit, they may be the key to solving the various mysteries that Souv gives us.

Hope this helps and you keep playing the quest, it gets lonely here when I'm the only one left. Though I understand Souv's quests are not for everyone.

>>6039775
>Offer to trade with Pedro for the Suspicious Pilules
>Ask about the contents of the book, the prophesy of the Blood Apocalypse etc. (do not show the book itself)

>>6039826
I think I sort of understand.
Also I'll support
>Offer to trade with Pedro for the Suspicious Pilules
>Ask about the contents of the book, the prophesy of the Blood Apocalypse etc. (do not show the book itself)

>>6039856
Ok, cool, glad I could be of help! Sorry for the text wall btw I'm not too good at explaining my thoughts concisely.

>>6039826
>Ask about the contents of the book, the prophesy of the Blood Apocalypse etc. (do not show the book itself)

>>6039604
>As for goth shorts, I think we shouldn't take them, they probably smell horribly if a hobo wore them.
How do I delete somebody else's post?

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>>6039826
>>6039856
>>6039880
You possess:

Sunshine Grimoire
>>6039755

Suspicious Pilules / Pentagram Star Pills
>>6039758

>Offer Pedro the Pentagram-shaped Star Pills in trade for items etc.
You see Pedro's eyebrows raised in an even more exaggerated combination of curiosity and interest, but when he sees the Suspicious Pilules / Pentagram Star Pills his face momentarily darkens, first to incredulity, then suspicion, before eventually settling to a violent scowl of disappointment. He turns as if he were on the verge of berating Donnie (who actually has a slightly scared look on his face, an expression you have never seen before), but then to your relief and surprise, Pedro turns back to you. He seems to laugh it off...
-Hey cabron, no worries! Heh, if el trullo taught me one thing, it is not to carry the merchandise around with me, heh? Could have saved a good long stay at a most friendly luxury "hotel resort" that way, ha. Live or die, I never going back to the trullo, cabron. I was looking more for the, how do you say, "la pepa"? But this (Pedro indicates towards the Suspicious Pilules / Star Pills
>>6039758
in a serious, dramatic gesture of patronage) I front this to you, cabron. This for you to trade, as you wish. You are welcome on our turf, this the beginning of our great business partnership, we make this Land great again, ha ha. And don't worry, Donnie here he take care of this encajuelado (Pedro indicates the mutilated remains of Jerome) he take real good care of you. We keep a little Tiendita (QM: you think this means a sort of small scale narcotrafficking vendor, disguised as a shop) down by the Beach Pier, near La Rueda de la Fortuna there. You go there any time, cabron, mi sangre Donnie he set you up for your new career! And next time (Pedro grins) we bring the big Cuerno de Chivos for you, cabron!

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>>6039826
>>6039856
>>6039880
>Ask Pedro about the Blood Apocalypse prophecy you read about in the demented ramblings of the now gruesomely deceased Jerome The Wizard
>do not mention you possess the Sunshine Grimoire

Pedro laughs again:
-Ha ha ha, this is like El Dia de los Muertos for the gringos, man! It is funny, you are the second person who has asked me about this today. That is one sapo too much, who is going round asking too many questions. So this Jerome believed in some Calavera Catrina as an offering to Death? Ha ha! This all an act we put on for the gringos and turistas! Not that I am not spiritual, cabron. (Pedro de Jesus scratches his chin thoughtfully) Most people, they want to be like the others. I don't know what you need to bring them out of it; I just sell them the way to forget. You give these gringos the freedom to do unto others what they want for themselves - turns out, that is a means to make everyone the same. That way leads to the Living Death, Death in Life. Sex and Death, that is the most powerful magic, that is all magic is, Creation, Destruction. Create and Destroy - just like the Cartel. It is what we do. But you are in La Tierra de los Brujos, cabron; the magic comes from the Land; but that Land is gone, cabron. In the old days, they believed in the Sacred Wood. This Sign Of The Living Death is probably real big, a real big deal. I think you will know the Sign when you see it!

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(QM: If you think you know what the Sign Of The Living Death represents, write in. Otherwise, Pedro de Jesus will leave - most likely to pursue other unsavoury or illicit activities, and Donnie Raoul will be busy occupying himself with the grim task of cleanup of the "encajuelado" ie smeared remains of Jerome the Wizard)

>Write-in if you have an idea of The Sign Of The Living Death and what it is

>Ask Pedro as he departs: I really enjoy killing. It really is a thrill for me, I think I can make an Art out of it. Is there anyone else you need killed?

>Tell Pedro: leave the corpse of The Wizard as it is. How do you say, a narcomensaje? A warning, if you will, to those who come to the Dead Mall and encroach on what belongs to The Cartel (QM: you think this will massively increase your prestige with the Cartel. Tales will spread of a psychotic sicario amongst their ranks who murders Cartel enemies, and is completely insane and fearless, because he wears tight-fitting black leather shorts during slaughter. However, it will also likely incur inordinate heat from law enforcement)

>(as above, but also desecrate the remains by cutting out the Wizard's heart and burning the corpse)

>The ease and friendliness with which Pedro has welcomed you makes you very suspicious. Why would he just let you have these Star Pills, and sell them on Cartel territory? Wasn't Pedro ready to see the Wizard killed by Donnie, for doing the same? You have a feeling Pedro de Jesus is not someone accustomed to having any of his demands ever being refused or rejected; the more familiar you become with him, the more dangerous it gets. After Donnie and Pedro leave, dump all of the Wizard's stash somewhere, and try to forget everything that happened

>Stupid Cartel gangbangers, turning their backs on you to leave. Shoot both Pedro and Donnie in the head as they depart

>This murder scene is just too horrifying. Flee the entire site wailing and weeping in remorse and horror. Hey, at least this puts you in a good mood for a Goth party

>Something else?

>>6040067
This is not what I had in mind. Thought we'd get a useful item in exchange for the small quantity of drugs, didn't want to be set up as a dealer. Better forget about Pedro's offer and never ever come near the Tiendita, it's best not to get entangled with this shit. We keep the Pills though. Could come in handy.

Anyway, any ideas about the Sign Of The Living Death, anons? I won't be voting for now until I hear your thoughts.

>>6040067
>Take a picture of the corpse amidst the trash of the dead mall. Better yet, place our art installation next to the course and take the picture. Now *this* is art. *This* is avant-garde

I have absolutely no idea what the Living Death is

>>6040067
>The ease and friendliness with which Pedro has welcomed you makes you very suspicious. Why would he just let you have these Star Pills, and sell them on Cartel territory? Wasn't Pedro ready to see the Wizard killed by Donnie, for doing the same? You have a feeling Pedro de Jesus is not someone accustomed to having any of his demands ever being refused or rejected; the more familiar you become with him, the more dangerous it gets. After Donnie and Pedro leave, dump all of the Wizard's stash somewhere, and try to forget everything that happened
As for The Sign Of The Living Death, I'm thinking it's either some sort of weapon or it's a spiritual/religious symbol/icon. Maybe it's a cross between Catholic's and Native Religion's power? That's usually how things go in Hispanic countries when regarding myths.
Or maybe I'm thinking of this in the wrong way.

>>6040067
>Write-in if you have an idea of The Sign Of The Living Death and what it is
The cross, the symbol of the Christ, a sign from God or a portent of the end times. "Pedro" is the Latin version of the name "Peter," and "de Jesus" would mean "of Jesus," making him a possible reference to Saint Peter if we follow a certain deranged rationale. The "Sacred Wood" is possibly connected to the wood of the True Cross that Jesus was crucified on, which was venerated in the Christian tradition.

>The ease and friendliness with which Pedro has welcomed you makes you very suspicious. Why would he just let you have these Star Pills, and sell them on Cartel territory? Wasn't Pedro ready to see the Wizard killed by Donnie, for doing the same? You have a feeling Pedro de Jesus is not someone accustomed to having any of his demands ever being refused or rejected; the more familiar you become with him, the more dangerous it gets. After Donnie and Pedro leave, dump all of the Wizard's stash somewhere, and try to forget everything that happened

>>6040067
I can get behind >>6040276 explanation. Had a hunch that it is the Christian cross but couldn't quite explain why. Maybe because of this image >>6040061
As for the action, let's really go with
>The ease and friendliness with which Pedro has welcomed you makes you very suspicious. Why would he just let you have these Star Pills, and sell them on Cartel territory? Wasn't Pedro ready to see the Wizard killed by Donnie, for doing the same? You have a feeling Pedro de Jesus is not someone accustomed to having any of his demands ever being refused or rejected; the more familiar you become with him, the more dangerous it gets. After Donnie and Pedro leave, dump all of the Wizard's stash somewhere, and try to forget everything that happened
it's best to forget about drug trade.

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Uncreated Light
The glamour of Sex and Death, magic from an unreal sigil, a Sign of Sacred Wood found in the mountains. It is believed to imbue its bearer with powers of transfiguration and rapturous delirium; its followers are filled with desire to become the same as each other, all following and emulating The Sign. The Light takes the form of vivid, shifting cascades of dancing rainbow colours - akin to sunlight split from a clear crystal prism into all forms of imagination. Those bathed in the radiance of Uncreated Light are said to be preserved in their youth and beauty, living on and on forever; they will never die.

***
Perhaps the macabre scenes at the Dead Mall have shaken you, but you cannot make any sense of all these demented visions from Jerome the Wizard. Is it really that easy, killing a wizard? Just murder a wizard, and read his spellbook, his insane Book Of Suns (Sons?)

And aren't wizard grimoires usually cursed somehow... you feel a dread tingling and slight numbness in your hands, as you try and dispose of Jerome's Stash of pentagram Star Pills. Are they really illegal narcotics, or just star-shaped candy - could you even tell the difference...? You see your hands stained, from when you leafed through the Sunshine Grimoire earlier; there is the same astringent scent and tang of ink, blotted onto your palms, from the absorbent and perforated gridded pages of his sunshine spellbook. And Jerome's contacts appear very peculiar...

For a start, there is one name that recurs repeatedly over and over again, in many separate locations, but which appears to have been retroactively and vehemently scrawled out in fury.

It is hard for you to see what this name is, but it looks like "O..." covered in all locations by Jerome in an ugly scarred patchwork of enraged and defaced scratches. Maybe it was some follower or acolyte of the wizard, with whom he had angrily quarrelled or fought.

The remaining spellbook contacts consist entirely of first names, but strictly segregated into male and female: Samuel, Robert, Chris, Tom, Brad, Will, Johnny, Harrison, Leo...; Scarlett, Zoe, Emma, Jennifer, Cameron, Natalie, Julia, Sandra... Besides each name is a number, a ranked account of takings and transactions. It seems to you that this Jerome The Wizard was perhaps some form of occult accountant? - a bookkeeper, or archivist for all these underworld dealings; you begin to see why Pedro de Jesus would be so interested in this Book Of Suns, and want to see him killed.

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Unbidden to your mind, The Book Of Suns is speaking to you. You see a shifting vision of golden masks and faces - is it trying to show you Jerome, what the Wizard was like at the height of his power, before his descent into madness, besotted with drink and a brain addled by his own hallucinogenic alchemy... Jerome the Wizard as he once was...

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(commanding voice of Jerome, The Warlock)
-I can take you to a place - a place where there is no Death. A golden valley filled with sunshine, yet also a vale where the thousand thousand eyes of night will watch over you, forever and ever. A place where the roads are paved with stars... In this place you will never die...

And as the vision fades, you hear first one female voice, then another and another, earnestly pleading:
- Yes... yes, Yes!! Take me there - take me to the Sign...
-The Sign, yes! Take me! Take me!
-Yes! Me too! Me too! yes, yes...Yes!!

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The female voices swell, at first joining and mingling into an eager intertwining. counterpoint and fugue, then swelling into a tortured chorus, a broken legion; voices distorted into nightmarish cacophony. Discordant shrieks and hisses fill your mind -

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You feel really sick and fall to your knees. Your hands are cramping - the curious hands that touched Jerome The Warlock's cursed Book Of Suns - and it feels like all the tendons and nerves have been pulled out. Everything is pulsating, shaking. The walls are red, thudding against your mind... voices are all around you, taunting and mocking you. This must be the Warlock's revenge... You place one hand against the reddened wall, panicking over whether these ruins of the vast maze that is the Dead Mall have been stained with your own blood.

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The wall is indeed red and slick, moist and warm as if sweating with perspiration. The walls do seem to be actually shaking a little. But it is not the Warlock's curse. For it seems you have finally arrived at the Red Masque rave, the underground goth party...

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Or at least, the queue to get into this rave. There are a lot, A LOT of people here. You observe with some consternation that only a minority of them appear to actually be dressed as goths (inwardly, you realise Heather was right about the lame poseurs...) And even at this distance, you can hear the pounding and punishing thud of percussive industrial beats, which makes you dread to imagine just a little of how loud it must be inside, within the writhing, churning vortices of that maw of dancing flesh. Here in the queue outside, the floor is actually sticky with what you presume is spilt beverages or... other fluids.

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You hear voices ahead - there appears to be a small group detached from the waiting line, and they don't appear to look very goth at all:

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-I know now why I never got the audition...

Annabel
(an aspiring actress. She is standing slightly apart from the queue, re-applying her makeup)
-It is all these sequels, see- Natalie, are you even listening? All these sequels and long-running franchises, huge tentpole productions with enormous production budgets. All it does is feed into the fame of those stars who are already established. It doesn't give a chance to any new entrants, really authentic and talented younger performers. Artists like me! They should really just let those old films die! And also, I think it is because I am just too attractive. Look, Natalie, look at this- (Annabel swipes at her phone) someone made this chart that analyses cinema releases and proves how sex in all these mainstream film productions has declined. Sex just doesn't cross borders well, foreign markets are really conservative, the demographic wants different things. Hence all the big budget tentpole sequel films with the endless explosions and mindless computer generated graphics, instead of true human acting talent. Like me. But isn't that the point of films? To make other people like us, aspire to be the same as us? It's so unfair! Sometimes, I really wish there could be like a treatment, a fitness regimen or like a pill or something I could just take and become famous; just like a pill that makes you into a star and see all my hard work and effort deservingly rewarded. Natalie! What do you think? Are you even listening? Natalie!

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Natalie
(she is standing timidly next to Annabel in the queue. Hands clenched over her ears against the distant pounding and thudding industrial music. Occasionally Natalie winces and looks a bit sick, squeezing her eyes shut. Natalie is Annabel's designated "recovery companion". They say you cannot force someone to get better, you can only conspire. Natalie stammers:)
-um... Anne, I- I really don't feel so well, I mean, when you dared me to spend a night at the haunted mall, I thought it would be something different- not this... Also, I- I don't think with your recovery program, you know, from the wellness regimen, I don't think this is the best venue for you right now - And sometimes with the acting auditions, it is just luck, you know?

Annabel
-(dismissively) Hey I told you, I don't want that mentioned again. I am better. I am really better, totally clean and everything. Look, I wasn't even thinking about any pills or anything until you mentioned it. I came here just to have some fun, don't drag me down! Aren't you supposed to be providing emotional support or something, making me feel supported and loved...?

>You are still very sick from the hallucinogenic acid blotter imprinted in Jerome The Wizard's cursed spellbook, The Book Of Suns. How do they usually arrange the meet-cute between boy and girl in those romantic comedy films again? Walk up and vomit into the face of:
>Annabel
>Natalie

>Saunter up and say: Are you... are you Annabel...? You... you look just like her! I have seen all your films, I am such a fan!

>Explain to Annabel: well films belong to the last century, it is all about being a videogame streamer or influencer now. Have you tried becoming a gangsta rapper? Or putting blue dye and rainbow colours in your hair?

>Explain to Annabel: I think you have failed in your acting career, but I heard you can sell, er, scented... bathwater. Or maybe pictures of feet or something

>Say to Annabel: so, you want some pills that make you feel like a celebrity, hmmm. Maybe I can help...

>Say to Annabel: The reason you didn't get the audition is, you are fat. You should try eating less

>Scold Natalie: I think you should adopt a firmer approach with Annabel. She shouldn't even be at this rave, if she is on a wellness recovery program

>Just ignore these two, and walk ahead, try and find some other point in the long waiting line to barge in and gatecrash the rave. There must be some VIP access somewhere?

>Something else...?

>>6040549
>Saunter up and say: Are you... are you Annabel...? You... you look just like her! I have seen all your films, I am such a fan!

>>6040533
>>6040549
I GOT IT
The Sign that will appear in the sky before the Blood Apocalypse is the northern lights, the aurora borealis, isn't it? The Sun will irradiate mankind and make us into vampires??
Anyway, for the vote let's go with a combo of
>Explain to Annabel: well films belong to the last century, it is all about being a videogame streamer or influencer now. Have you tried becoming a gangsta rapper? Or putting blue dye and rainbow colours in your hair?
>Explain to Annabel: I think you have failed in your acting career, but I heard you can sell, er, scented... bathwater. Or maybe pictures of feet or something
basically the streaming + bathwater selling is the way to success, the OnlyFans route.

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>>6040575
>>6040577
Your brazen insinuation of recommending Annabel to sell sex pictures and merch of herself online really shocks Natalie, who appears quite prim and sensitive.

To her credit, despite how ill this waiting line to an industrial rave is making her feel, Natalie leaps in to defend Annabel. You get the mental image as if a mouse had attempted to turn round and punch a snake about to swallow it:
-um, excuse me? (Natalie pushes her glasses timidly up her nose, which crinkles as she summons the courage to confront you, stuttering) Excuse me? We... we are having a private conversation here. That is... not an ok thing to say to Annabel here, she- she is still recovering from her problems with stress and addiction...- I mean, if you don't have anything appropriate to contribute, I am going to have to ask you to leave us alone. I mean (Natalie panics a little) I will- I will call security!

(You look around. It is an underground rave in a far section of an enormous derelict shopping mall. Amidst the crowds of gathered partygoers, there is no security at all)

Annabel holds up her hand as if to signal Natalie to back down. You get the impression that despite her demure looking outward appearance - Annabel does look truly breathtaking, as glamorous as any celebrity you have ever seen - Annabel is as ferocious as a wolf:
-Calm down Natalie, I got this (Annabel turn to you) So sweetie, you think I should sell pictures of myself? On the internet? Well that just goes to show what you know about showbusiness. I got to where I am, by defending myself, having standards. Not letting myself be groped by every producer between here and the Hills just for a sign or chance at an audition. Do you know what percentage of online streamers can actually even build a living, or even make any semblance of a decent income? 1% ? 0.01%? And say you finally get there, painstakingly build a following; then they just change the algorithm. Because algorithms are so reliable! (Annabel pauses, takes a breath) I got to where I am today by not selling out. I know what I am worth. I am special, I am a star. I will make it happen some day, and not take it from some internet algorithm. They just want to make people compete against each other, over and over again, whilst they harvest us. Harvest our youth and personalities and beauty and looks. Who is the naive one, huh? And besides, what makes you think you can even afford someone like me?

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Annabel pauses and purses her lips. She takes another really deep breath, and continues:
-I was just venting at you earlier there, Natalie. I didn't mean any of it, I was just frustrated at losing another audition. If this (Annabel flicks her eyes at you) this stranger hadn't come in and intruded... I know perfectly well why I didn't get the audition. It is because I can't cry. They wanted an actress who could produce real tears for the role. I think working in this industry for so long, being judged on every tiny thing, constantly needing to starve yourself to maintain this appearance, being criticised for every choice and all your behaviour, having no social or private life of your own, all these sacrifices... only to be met with rejection after rejection, disappointment after disappointment... it really toughens you up. I don't cry any more. I can't even fake crying, fake vulnerability any more. That is what I am. Beautiful and dead inside.

>Reply, but have you tried like, an onion?
>Reply: don't they have those cosmetic tear sticks, menthol / camphor sticks, that you can use to simulate tears for movies?
>Reply: with your acting ability there, no wonder they have to add in the tears afterwards, with CGI post production
>Reply: maybe you are auditioning for the wrong roles. Maybe you need to find a role that reflects your personality, not your appearance
>Reply: I think you are wrong about online algorithms, making an income from streaming. I know this girl Heather, she has blue hair, she seems to be doing ok with it
>Reply: hey I can make you cry. I made this girl Heather cry the moment I met her today. Will this do it? (using your lingering hallucinogenic nausea, vomit in Annabel's face)
>Reply: you will never be a star. You think you have it, but there are a thousand girls who look like you. Or even better. You'll never be noticed, competing against them all. You will lose.
>(thinking about the power of your mysterious headphones... maybe they could be used to imbue others with emotions?) How about a sad song...
QM: link a song. If it makes me cry, you succeed this encounter with Annabel. Like her, I am dead inside.
>Write-in an idea to make Annabel cry, and help her win an audition
>Something else...? (write-in)

>Leave these two on their own. They clearly have... issues

>>6040628
>Leave these two on their own. They clearly have... issues
Let's go to the goth rave. Maybe we'll meet our odalisque there.
Though it's worth waiting for other anons' input on this.

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>>6040628
>>6040716
QM: hehe, I did see the detailed attempts at unravelling the impenetrable conspiracy of the mysterious occult Sign here
>>6040260
>>6040276
>>6040471
and here
>>6040577

These are all great guesses, but sadly not correct hehe. At this stage it should become increasingly obvious what the Sign actually is... Annabel definitely knows it, hehe

The queue to get into the rave is very long. As you wait, here are some other roleplaying hints as to what you could try to advance in this encounter with the aspiring actress Annabel, and her assistant / recovery companion Natalie (think about what emotions, Fear Innocence Cruelty Outrage they evoke etc)

>Reply: I can see why you ended up an addict in rehab, Annabel. You are like some sort of... horrible emotional vampire

>Reply: ok, Annabel, maybe an onion won't produce tears for your audition. How about some other lachrymatory approach... ever try rubbing garlic into your eyes?
QM: thinking back to the hint "blood and lemon" in the lyrics here...
>>6037892

>Ask Natalie suspiciously: do you know this homeless person, Jerome? I think I saw your name in this strange book of his
>>6040533

>Reply: that's really hurtful, Annabel. I know what rejection feels like (Show Annabel your Rejection Letter)
>>6037324

>Advise Annabel: walk me through what happened at your audition. They say most people decide whether they like someone within the first few minutes of meeting them - first impressions are very important. Maybe the crying scene was just an excuse they used to reject you

>Advise Annabel: with these auditions, you need to hang around the right type of people; creative types. With the right sort of crowd, opportunities are bound to happen sooner or later. I am a famous artist. Look at this (show Annabel your masterwork art oeuvre, the Heap Of Crap) >>6038796

>Actually, I am an art photographer (Show Annabel your disturbing headless corpse / gore photo, next to the Heap Of Crap)
From this anon, lol >>6040253 you know you want to try this, hehe

>Hey Annabel, I have a good audition idea for you. A horror film audition (draw the Heel Knife, and slash Annabel across the mouth with its blade)

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QM: Is Annabel really a vampire? You are not sure. But if you use your mysterious earphones to try and listen to her music playlist, try to look into her soul, it is this

INTO DUST Mazzy Star
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=04J0ihSeIuI

Still falling
Breathless and on again
Inside today
Beside me today
Around, broken in two
Till your eyes shed
Into dust
Like two strangers
Turning into dust
Till my hand shook
With the weight of fear

I could possibly be fading
Or have something more to gain
I could feel myself growing colder
I could feel myself under your fate
Under your fate

It was you
Breathless and torn
I could feel my eyes turning into dust
And two strangers
Turning into dust
Turning into dust

QM: As the demented hallucinating homeless man Jerome and the Cartel narcotrafficker Pedro de Jesus are perhaps not the most reliable sources of information (given that they themselves probably do not possess full knowledge of it either, and may have waylaid you with false information intertwined with truth) here is a summary of what you know about "The Sign"

-Pedro mentioned that the Sign makes people want to be like others
-The Sign is connected to Sex and Death, the most powerful magic
-The Sign came from the Land, but the Land is now gone
-From what Pedro told you, it sounds likely that this Sign is controlled by some sort of cartel (just not his Cartel), a very select group of people; The Sign is about Creation and Destruction of a certain magic
-The Sign is related to "Sacred Wood". It was once far more powerful than it is today, but people have forgotten about it
>>6040061

-Jerome the Wizard was completely insane. However, his grimoire ranting about "hiking" and "cutting" made you wonder if The Sign was located on a trail in the hills or near mountains
>>6039755

-in a vision, the spellbook of Jerome in his masked Warlock incarnation revealed to you the Sign brought followers into some sort of "Golden State", a valley filled with sunshine where there is no Death, where they are watched by thousands of eyes, where the roads are paved with stars
>>6040536

-examining Jerome's spellbook, you noticed it had very unusual lists of male and female names absent surnames. There is one particular name beginning with "O..." that has been erased and scratched out, over and over again. You also believe that the purpose of the Sign appears to be to create some form of unusual spell or glamour, the Uncreated Light, which seems similar to rainbow colours
>>6040533

>>6040789
Ok this is all very interesting but I am smol brain so I'll leave the guessing to the other anons (if they haven't left already lol) and head to bed for the night. Perhaps an epiphany will come to me in sleep as I inspect the assorted facts of a trademark Souvarine mystery...

>>6040777
>Innocence
>Reply: that's really hurtful, Annabel. I know what rejection feels like (Show Annabel your Rejection Letter)

We should try to build a rapport, it could make it easier to wring information out of her.

>>6040861
I support this anon, but also we should show her an example of our art, to really bear our tortured soul to her, preferably the picture of the corpse that used to be Jerome

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>>6040789

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>>6041173
Sign Of The Living Death,
"H O L _ Y W O O D"

A black car has pulled up by the meandering and twisting roads in the mountains; the car stops before an enormous rusted old Sign - an ancient billboard that once advertised a forgotten and abandoned dream.
>>6037298

Even tourists avoid the curse of this place, which has long fallen into disrepair; one of the colossal, corroded and blemished runes, shaped like an "L", appears to have entirely collapsed, so that the sign reads, "HOL_YWOOD".

Four figures swathed in darkness emerge from the funereal black car. They are themselves draped almost entirely in the colour of night. One of them, a woman with severely cropped hair and facial piercings, speaks in a cold dead tone:

File: tiziano-palumbo-portraits(...).jpg (1.79 MB, 1920x3072)

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Judith, an intimacy coordinator and casting director

-We are all set, Harvey. Greenlit and good to go. I spoke to Immanuel Hildesheim and the studios on the phone. All the pre-buy, distribution rights and territories, the financing and negative pickup, it is all prepared. All done. They are just waiting for your call, your confirmation.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Negative_pickup_deal
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intimacy_coordinator

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Harvey Leer, "Ghoul King"
A notorious horror film director and producer. He is known to have cultivated a gruesome image of utter barbarity in his earlier years, encouraging rumours that the horror and gore effects in his slasher films were created by actually torturing and maiming women. Harvey Leer has been recently released from prison, having been incarcerated on numerous charges of sexual abuse, though it appears he managed to shorten his sentence through some form of plea bargain or cooperation arrangement with prosecutors. As part of the terms of his early release, it has been stipulated that an "intimacy coordinator" accompany Harvey Leer in all his interactions with potential female cast members. Perhaps attributable to the shift in audience preferences and dwell time towards short-form mobile social content and streaming video, industry analysts have observed a marked decline in traditional box office revenues, languishing viewership and falling cinemagoing attendance over the course of his imprisonment, though it might just be sheer coincidence.

Harvey Leer, aka King Ghoul, speaks in a nicotine-wracked voice that grates like a handful of ash thrown into an open grave:

-King Ghoul is back, babe. My work has been forgotten. I did more for women in this industry than anyone can remember. Look them in the eye and they never look away. This city owes me; I'll make them remember it. They are going to roll out the red carpets soon enough again. Blood red.

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Oskar
An aspiring cinematographer, currently working as 1st AC (camera assistant) with Harvey Leer, having collaborated on the gore-drenched noir look of his horror films multiple times in the past. During the public trial proceedings of Harvey Leer, several tearful actresses alleged that the producer had on many occasions coerced and menaced them with vague and ambiguous threats to "give them to Oskar", without specifying what precise unpleasantness this would entail

(Oskar has a needling and disturbingly high voice. He appears perpetually sullen. He volunteers...)

-Perhaps some... fresh talent, this time, Mr Leer? Young, fresh, ripe...

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Cade
He is attired in some form of plate carrier or tactical ballistic vest, which would appear somewhat exaggerated for this current urban threat environment, though it appears he thrives off the look of intimidation. Cade is the Senior Security Operations Coordinator for King Ghoul

Harvey Leer turns to another standing by his side - he has the bearing of some military contractor or battle veteran, who seems to oversee his personal security.

The Ghoul King murmurs his assent:
-Find her, Cade. Judith, Oskar - you know what to do. Bring her to me...

King Ghoul throws back his head and opens his jaws, and the Old Sign Of The Living Death shakes in the mountains as he howls like a child thrown to a wolf. He is laughing, laughing as he howls and lays his hands on his followers, one by one, as if anointing the dead.

>>6040777
>Fear
>Actually, I am an art photographer (Show Annabel your disturbing headless corpse / gore photo, next to the Heap Of Crap)

>>6041173
Bravo anon, I think you got it!

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>>6040260
>>6040276
>>6040471
>>6040577
>>6041276
QM: well done to all the anons who worked on unravelling this riddle lol, and special congratulations to whoever deciphered it correctly here!
>>6041173

Give me a few more moments to prepare the next scene, which I am setting up according to the decision made here
>>6040861
also, this is very interesting, hehe, let us see what happens tee hee hee
>>6041159
>>6041276

There is also one point which I would like clarification on (there seems to be some confusion in the choices made by various players).

So anons decided to dump the stash here
>>6040088
>>6040471
and also reject Pedro de Jesus and the Cartel "trade agreement" ie not participate in his offer to sell drugs on their turf. (Even though you did not explicitly tell Pedro this)

By this choice, did you mean to dispose of as in "hide the stash" in some secret location in the abandoned shopping mall? If so, you can write in and invent some mall location where you hid it eg, abandoned toilets, beneath a ruined elevator or escalator, some wrecked mall shop or vending machine or fountain display etc. This may become important later. Alternatively, perhaps you meant "dump the stash" as in physically destroying it / rendering it unuseable.

>hide Jerome The Wizard's narcotic stash in a new secret mall location
QM: if you choose this, please invent / write-in the place where you re-hid it, this might be important for the story later

>dump the stash ie physically destroy it / render it unuseable / unsellable (I am thinking something like scattering and throwing it in a sewer etc) This choice obliterates the ability to retrieve the stash at any future point
QM: if you choose this, please suggest how you do it eg, burn it all, throw in waterway / sewer / the sea etc

QM: ok, after providing that clarification, please standby and wait a while as I setup the next scene, hehe

>>6041173
holy shit this is genius, congrats anon
>>6040777
>Reply: that's really hurtful, Annabel. I know what rejection feels like (Show Annabel your Rejection Letter)
I would vote against showing the picture but anons seem to have already decided so w/e
>>6041283
>Dump the stash in the sewer

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>>6040861
>>6041372
>show Annabel the Rejection Letter etc...
>show Annabel your gruesome corpse art murder photo
(QM: patience, wait for timing on this one)

By the red glare emanating from the thudding walls of the Dead Mall, in the long and undiminished waiting line for the Red Masque rave, Annabel most certainly does not seem impressed. Without even looking at your Rejection Letter, and curling her lips in a derisive and cruel half-smile, Annabel mocks you:
-So, sweetie, you received... one rejection? And that has broken your heart? Why I- Natalie, don't you agree, this has got to be the worst flirting attempt we have ever heard. First you try some negative pickup artist line on me, demeaning and insulting me, like I am only good enough for exhibiting my body for weirdos on the internet, and next you try this, to earn my sympathy? You really think this will work? What do you think, Natalie? Is this loser making you breathless, driving you wild with desire?

Natalie has read your Rejection Letter. Your show of vulnerability has made her feel a little more sympathetic to you. She still looks very uncomfortable from the oppressive humidity and overall ambience of the rave:
-I think... you should ease up on him, Annabel. I... really need some air, I think we really need to just all go outside and cool down. Just step outside for a moment, this massive line isn't moving at all, we can hear the music echoing all the way already from out here, it is so loud and hot and unbearable. Please, Annabel, the party isn't going anywhere. Can we all just step outside for a moment and catch our breath and cool down?

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In the cooler air of the Car Park outside, Annabel takes a moment to read through the Rejection Letter. Perhaps the space away from the jostling crowd of partygoers does indeed help change her mood:
-Oh, this is the Elbridge Colony, the Arts Fellowship, I know this! (Annabel frowns, and then seems to look at you in a new light) I go there all the time. It was part of my wellness recovery program, see. It was very spiritual and lifechanging. I think it used to be called the Urban Project for Youth Rehabilitation, they developed all these pioneering therapy and wellbeing initiatives, called Structural Adjustment Programs, as charity to help poor and impoverished regions all around. But I think they changed the name because "rehab", well, it has connotations. And they discovered the same therapy techniques can also help artists unlock their creativity. They are all about growth, really deep meaningful artistic growth and enabling your personal and spiritual journey. It really works! Look at me! It isn't like a cult or anything, they don't give you shock therapy! Oh and the house there is really, really beautiful, you have to see it. It belongs to this lady, Melinda - she was married to that former CEO, Eric Sunder, of the Imago Technology Ventures Fund, I think they are separated or something, so she is quite reclusive, she doesn't come out very often. But she used to be a really famous actress herself too! I really want her to become my mentor. Maybe she could help me get an audition...

Natalie wipes at the condensation on her glasses, as she ponders thoughtfully:
-I thought you said you hated that Eric Sunder CEO person, Annabel? Didn't he predict that very soon, AI will replace the need for actresses, they will just synthetically generate your voices and faces and bodies from digitalised computer archive imagery?

Annabel sighs,
-They can do it already. There are some really mean and sick individuals on this message board, I think it is called like 4kennel.org or something, they are always undressing actresses with nude digital effects, and they can even fake voices, video. But you would have to be really stupid to fall for it though. Like imagine receiving a random phone call, from a number you have never seen before, and just because the voice sounds like someone you know, you believe them and do everything they say. No-one would ever fall for that! (Annabel turns to you) Oh, it is cold out here (she rubs her bare arms in the chill air). Listen, you are... not all bad, to be around. You should come visit us at the Elbridge Colony some day, as a guest. I'll invite you in. You can see what it is like...

(optional)
>(thinking back to what Annabel said about the 1% of those who achieve success etc) You're shivering, Annabel. Here, take my jacket
(give her the One Percenter Black Leather Biker Jacket)
>>6040626
>>6039026

>(as above, but add) Take good care of that jacket. I shot a homeless person for it. (Pause) It was a joke! (I really did it)

>Reply: thank you for the invitation, Annabel. It is what I really needed

>Reply: Elbridge sounds like a weird cult to me. No thanks. In no way does it symbolically represent the education received by the QM in any way whatsoever

>Reply: I know a really beautiful place by the beach, Annabel. It is a special place for me. Would you like to see it?
>>6037296
>>6037300
>>6037310

>Reply: I know a really beautiful place by an old Sign in the mountains. The view is breathtaking, you can see the entire city. Would you like to come with me?

>Ask Annabel suspiciously: some random interview on AI cannot be the only reason why you hate this Eric Sunder tech CEO person, right...?

>Ask Annabel: what would you do if someone leaked your nudes?

>You must wade into this website boards.4kennel.org/ and search for nudes of Annabel. You know the one
>try /hr
>browse /s
>hmmm, /hc
>oh no /gif
>the worst? /pol
>even worse, /gif gore thread
Hey, maybe you could upload your "art" here
>>6040253
>>6041159

>Annabel is really quite... highly strung. Choose any of the responses above, but direct them at Natalie instead

>(don't say anything, but think to yourself whilst flicking the Heel Knife back and forth) If I bring this actress to the Sign Of The Living Death as a sacrifice to Harvey Leer, maybe he will make me into a vampire
>>6041269

>Something else...? Write-in

>>6041518
>Like imagine receiving a random phone call, from a number you have never seen before, and just because the voice sounds like someone you know, you believe them and do everything they say. No-one would ever fall for that!
HOLY FUCK, the Finlay voice is fabricated IT IS MEANT TO LEAD US TO DTLA THE VAMPIRES ARE BEHIND IT omg
>>6041520
>(thinking back to what Annabel said about the 1% of those who achieve success etc) You're shivering, Annabel. Here, take my jacket
>Ask Annabel suspiciously: some random interview on AI cannot be the only reason why you hate this Eric Sunder tech CEO person, right...?
>Reply: thank you for the invitation, Annabel. It is what I really needed
>Reply: unfortunately my art was just not good enough to be invited. And to think I put MY VERY SOUL in it... Look, is it really that bad? *show gore picture*
Going balls to the wall straight into disaster (I just want to get this anons' idea over with)

>>6041540
I agree with everything this anonbsays EXCEPT do NOT give her our jacket. It makes us goth and cool and accentuates our shorts

>>6041540
>>6041564
I agree with this. And we're keeping the jacket, obviously.

>THE VAMPIRES ARE BEHIND IT
It's the name of the quest.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Upi%C3%B3r

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>>6041540
>>6041564
>>6041574
>Ask Annabel why she hates the former Imago tech venture fund CEO, Eric Sunder etc...

Natalie tries to impede your questioning:
-I don't think Annabel is ready to talk about that part of her life, she was in a very vulnerable place at the time, she...

but Annabel interrupts her brusquely:
-It's fine, Natalie. I am better now. Eric, he... holds these parties. You know, the ones out in the desert where everyone is naked amd wearing too much body paint and they set fire to a big wooden effigy, the sculpture of a burning man at the end. It is ironic actually, if you know the history of what happened to Eric's father. Well I attended some of these parties, and had... too much of a good time. It was stupid of me not to control myself. That is all there is to it.

(Annabel is still shivering a little in the cold. She is looking expectantly and enviously at your Leather Biker Jacket, as if she had hoped for some intimacy, and is becoming increasingly disappointed. Annabel's voice wanders towards dejection:)

-I guess... they made the world so competitive now; everybody is competing against you, to take something from you. But it isn't fair, because not everybody starts from the same place, the same beginning. Some people just have connections, they have this history, this lineage. You hear only your own voice, but there are all these other worlds you never see unless you already know their meaning. I just wish it were easier! The world is not what I want it to be. And no-one ever gave me the right to design the world...

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QM: the best image I can find of what has been done to Jerome The Wizard is this
https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/058/662/054/4k/taibin-zhang-5.jpg?1674674282

So you show this picture to Natalie, who is horrified. She is tugging on Annabel's arm, a desperate look of utter panic contorting her normally placid features:
-(in a crushed, suppressed choked whisper of fear) Anne-Anne... I... I really want to go home! Can we please... just leave... please! I just have this horrible feeling- this feeling, the longer we stay here, something really bad is going to happen... and I think this guy, he is really weird... like psycho murderer weird... I don't think he is an artist- please... can we please just go home... Anne? Anne?

Annabel is gazing sceptically at the image. She is quite interested in the lower half, which depicts Jerome's mangled headless torso and splayed limbs. She bites her lip a little, and arches an eyebrow:
-Well...I guess the composition is ok, I suppose. It's not AI-generated, is it? I mean I would like it better if you found a more attractive model. (Annabel teasingly glances at Natalie, who is utterly petrified) Like imagine if you did it with... Natalie here. Just imagine it (Annabel reverses the grip of Natalie, who had been still attempting surreptitious escape signals with the desperate arm-tugging... Annabel reverses her grip and pinions one of Natalie's arms behind her back as she struggles with increasing horror...) Imagine if you made some "art" with our adorable friend Natalie here...

Natalie
-(Annabel runs her fingers down her throat, towards the taut fabric across her breasts) no, Annie... I don't like this! Let go! What are you... what are you doing?? I-I...don't want...

Annabel
-(she winks at you) Just a thought, sweetie. Oh and here is my boyfriend, with his ride just in time! Don't worry Natalie, I'll see you safely back home just fine. You can take a rideshare.

(a blast of music reverberates from the rave below, like a revving engine)

VIOL, Gesaffelstein
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fYtpobVmYY4

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A black motorbike has pulled up in the car park. Annabel hops on the back and straddles the black helmeted rider, who revs the wheels. Natalie is aghast and utterly devastated, and desperately hoping for a mobile signal to call a rideshare cab for herself home, swiping maniacally on her phone.

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From her vantage point, high above on the vertiginous precipice of the shopping mall roof overlooking the car park, Heather is contentedly finishing the last few steps of her cleansing, healing ritual. She had been meditating, looking at her tarot cards and crystals, burning sage and fragrant herbs and fixing her aura. Now she is finally in the right state of mind to begin her therapy, her emotional release. If Heather squints hard enough, she can just make out a black motorbike and some figures below whom she might recognise... Heather reaches for her phone, to shut off notifications and ensure she is not distracted...

***
A song comes up on your earphones. Strangely enough, you recognise it; the favourite song of someone you knew...

MOTORBIKE RIDER (glancing at you)
-Who is your new friend, Annabel?

Annabel (she laughs as she holds onto him, squeezes him tighter and rests her head against his shoulders)
-oh, no-one you know, Finlay...

I AM TRYING TO BREAK YOUR HEART, Wilco
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=3RQcPC8KY_g

I am an American aquarium drinker
I assassin down the avenue
I'm hiding out in the big city blinking
What was I thinking when I let go of you?

Let's forget about the tongue-tied lightning
Let's undress just like cross-eyed strangers
This is not a joke, so please stop smiling
What was I thinking when I said it didn't hurt?

I want to glide through those brown eyes dreaming
Take it from the inside, baby hold on tight
You were so right when you said that I've been drinking
What was I thinking when I said good night?

I want to hold you in the Bible-black predawn
You're quite a quiet domino, bury me now
Take off your Band-Aid because I don't believe in touchdowns
What was I thinking when I said hello?

I'd always thought that if I held you tightly
You'd always love me like you did back then
Then I fell asleep and the city kept blinking
What was I thinking when I let you back in?

I am trying to break your heart
I am trying to break your heart
But still I'd be lying if I said it wasn't easy
I am trying to break your heart


>scream at Finlay (?) / Black Helmet Motorbike Rider: You! YOU! You are a RAPIST! I have proof... (play the voice messages)

>If Heather sees Finlay, right now, with yet another girl... she might... harm herself. You did encourage her to climb onto the shopping mall roof... you need to go to her, now

>ask Annabel awkwardly: er... so we are all going back to your house, right? I can tag along?

>say to Natalie: I will take you home (Natalie looks utterly horrified at this prospect)

>this feels like another artistic moment for you. Begin by shooting Annabel and Finlay in the face with your shotgun

>looks like you are sleeping on the beach again. Walk away, alone

>something else...?

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QM: I posted in before, but this live performance also appropriate as an accompaniment soundtrack for this current scenario

GASOLINE The Dead Weather (Live Version)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=biLBPYdrOLM

To be afraid is a luxury
So cool your engines for me
I don't want a sweetheart
I want a machine

I love you the most, I do
When you're so close to me
I can smell the gasoline

To be soft is too easy, huh
Don't get soft on me
I don't want a sweetheart, sweetheart
I want a machine

I love you the most, I do
When you're so close to me
I can smell the gasoline

To be afraid is a luxury
So cool your engines for me
I don't want a sweetheart
I want a machine

I love you the most, I do
When you're so close to me
I can smell the gasoline

What you whispered should be screamed
Screamed at the top of your lungs
Any sense you had in the morning
Is gone when the day is done

I love you the most, I do
When you're so close to me
I can smell the gasoline

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>>6041696
QM: lol I just realised the game has turned into a reenactment of "I need your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle" (I swear this isn't deliberate)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dFzwGg46waM

Unfortunately I do not know very much about iconic motorbikes, or cars etc. whereas at least with guns I can fall back on imfdb and videogames.

From my research I think his bike would probably need to be something like a BMW R1200 GS to accommodate two passengers. Originally when I was hunting around for images, I imagined the bike as a BMW S 1000 R. (I have no idea if any of these are good I just like the aesthetic of the pictures) Most motorbike adverts are cringe, but I watched this one, there is good music editing hehe they made it sort of cyberpunk lol and I appreciated the SLAG FURNACE unsubtle terminator 2 type imagery, hehe, this advert did it for me, yay

BMW S 1000 R advert - it is just like Terminator 2
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nIFQ5ujzIFw

maybe there needs to be a SLAG FURNACE in this game, hmmm

Anyway pic related shows his motorbike this time, I omitted it in the last picture argh

>>6041696
>Wave at Annabel saying "bye-bye"
>Wait a while to hear what Heather is going to scream
>Probably go back to the goth rave afterwards but it depends
This scene is just not very interesting to me, none of the characters except maybe Annabel are appealing. Sorry Souv. Would've maybe gone with
>talk to Finlay like "You remember me?"
but wouldn't want to delay them if they're in a hurry. Let's move on to the goth rave and maybe find our vampire gf or clues to her location at last.

>>6042127
Oh also these actions are
>OUTRAGE (negative)

File: X Card item for game setting.jpg (286 KB, 907x1360)

286 KB JPG

X Card

It is about the size of a credit card, and feels heavy, being made out of anodised titanium, accented in stainless steel and gold; once a symbol of exclusivity, affluence and luxurious spending power, its status has been degraded by the proliferation of many popularised metal-carrying cardholders, as well as a younger BNPL generation who indebts themselves invisibly and incrementally through a sorcery of ethereal, contactless electromagnetic transference.

The black card is also frequently featured and aggressively promoted in gangsta rap lyrics; for those abandoned to poverty, wealth, weapons, women; respect and domination, violence and retaliation; masculinity and misogyny represents all resources known to those raised with street culture as their Father. The ideology of Father, provider and protector, ensnares even those who rebel against him.

On this card there is an etched imprint featuring a prominent X at the front, alongside a laser-engraved design that reminds you a little of the ferris wheel at the Pier by the beach. It clangs if you hold it above a silver platter and drop it down upon a restaurant table.

Most people who wish they were millionaires actually only desire to spend millions, which is perhaps the opposite mentality to the accumulation and conservation of wealth. Nonetheless, invitation-only premiere cards are mostly associated with some form of spending reward or loyalty scheme. Whilst the precise elements required for qualification are not disclosed, an excellent FICO credit score is also typically required.

This card can be used to travel the world, if the world you wish to see (or better still, the world your personal assistant sees) is one of booking desks, concierge services and airport lounges.

Perhaps the X Card can be used to banish all that is unsightly and inconvenient in the world, but what it cannot be used for in a high-demand business lifestyle is to escape from it.

(You notice that in the playful / distressing arm-twisting pretend struggle between Annabel and Natalie,
>>6041683
the actress appears to have dropped this item of hers, without noticing, upon the ground at the Car Park.)
>>6041693
>>6041696
>>6042001

>>6042272
>Note the location of the X Card
>Pick it up and appropriate it after Annabel and Finlay have departed
As always, we will LOOT EVERYTHING (almost).

>>6042272
>Step on top of the card so that Natalie doesn't spot it
>Ask Natalie: Was that Finley, the world-famous creator of the highly acclaimed indie hit videogame "Super Vampire Basher (SVB) - Bubblegum Edition: Gotta Pop 'em All!"?

I hope we do get to go inside and goth rave a bit

File: 20240622_203102.jpg (292 KB, 1655x1080)

292 KB JPG

You possess:
X Card
>>6042272

>>6042127
>Talk to Finlay, Don't you remember me...? etc
You find it strange as the Black Visored Motorbike Rider does not recognise or even acknowledge you. For all his faults, Finlay was always a very easygoing and friendly, approachable person. Perhaps the success of selling his awardwinning videogame company, and subsequent payout have gotten to him?

Or maybe it is something far more mundane - the Black Motorbike Helmet obscures the entirety of his face, doubtless his peripheral vision too, making his voice sound muffled and slightly more higher pitched and wheedling in tone than usual.

As you are stooping to furtively pilfer Annabel's black credit card from the Car Park, you hear this conversation between the Black Motorbike Rider and Annabel, as she caresses and hugs herself against him:

BLACK MOTORBIKE RIDER
-I saw your text, Annabel. I am sorry the audition did not go well. But I have good news - there is a new director in town, a legend. You'll definitely have seen his films before - big budget box office productions. And he wants someone really dedicated, fully committed to the role. He even holds his auditions on site at the film shoot location, he really wants the cast to be immersed in the surroundings and atmosphere. What do you think? Are you ready for a challenge?

Annabel (she is really excited)
-Oh, Finlay! Really? You are so good to me! Thank you! Thank you! It is so rare to find men who support women in their careers, thank you so, so much! I was worried that, well, you know, you would be intimidated by how I earn so much more than you now, but this might really be the chance to take my industry recognition to the next level! This is the opportunity of my dreams! Thank you!

(you see Annabel planting her lips against the mirrored surface of the Black Motorbike Helmet visor, leaving a tender press of red against the faceless darkness of the helmet surface. Annabel asks...)

-Oh, and where is this audition location? I am so excited, I could go there, right now!

BLACK MOTORBIKE RIDER (revving engine)
-Sure thing, Annabel. We could check the venue out, ahead of time and before any rival actresses hear about this opportunity. It's at the old Steelworks Foundry. The film location is the Slag Furnace. You will be amazing at the audition, Annabel, I am sure. You are special, a star. Your talent truly burns brightly. I'll take you there, right now.

File: 20240622_203344.jpg (299 KB, 1691x1080)

299 KB JPG

The Black Motorbike Rider departs with Annabel, her blonde hair streaming in the wind behind her, just like in old romantic movies. As you are contemplating this turn of events, you receive a sudden text from Heather...

HEATHER
-Please - I really need you. Something really bad happened. Can you come to the roof right now?

>Text a reply back to Heather
>Reply: Yes, Finlay has yet another girlfriend. Get over it.
>Reply: Why do I have to go to you? You get yourself down here
>Ignore Heather

>You came here to dance at a goth rave, nothing shall stop you. It would be cool if it is like a slaughterhouse and they have those water sprinklers that spray blood and stuff
>>6042361

>You need to follow the Black Motorbike Rider right now. But how? Ignore everything else and chase him

>Say to Natalie: as her Recovery Companion from rehab, shouldn't you be accompaning Annabel everywhere she goes?

>This has been a really long day. You should return to the beach to recover for a bit, looking at the ocean always makes you feel better.

File: 20240307_090328.jpg (201 KB, 1080x1400)

201 KB JPG

>>6042387
(QM: if you need a motorbike, or some other vehicle, one can always be imagined into existence. It really depends on if I can find cool pictures of it at a good angle. Colour, make/model etc)

>>6041540
>Reply: unfortunately my art was just not good enough to be invited. And to think I put MY VERY SOUL in it... Look, is it really that bad? *show gore picture*

>>6042361
>Ask Natalie, was that Finlay...? etc
In response to this, Natalie shrieks:
-Stay away from me, you... you psycho-murderer...art photographer!! I don't want you near me taking any of your special decapitated "art" pictures! I am going to... call security?!! Security?? Please, someone, help me!! Anyone? Help! Help!

(Natalie swipes desperately at her phone, panicking)

(optional)
>Attempt to calm Natalie down

>>6042402
>Tell Natalie to calm down and decenter men from her life. Right now she is letting men, like Me, control her life and how sge reacts. Even her current outburst is centered around a man, Jerome, and he isn't even alive

>>6042387
>Reply: Why do I have to go to you? You get yourself down here

File: Evelyn McHale New York Ci(...).jpg (59 KB, 500x667)

59 KB JPG

>>6042470
>>6042472
You remember once witnessing the body of a woman, cradled in the grotesque embrace of a crushed car, having plummeted from a great height with her fallen body punched into the top of a vehicle.

>>6042470
Confronted by the hysterical and horror-stricken spectacle of Natalie's breakdown at the sight of your gore "art" picture, you calmly commence a lengthy academic exposition elucidating upon how her revulsion and fear of being maimed at the whims of male psychotic murderers only serves to reinforce and perpetuate the oppression of the edifice of patriarchy and all construals of feminity being subservient and powerless before masculine dominance. Furthermore, you explain how horror is really a form of tolerance, the willingness to look, to examine and investigate what is shunned and taboo in society, thereby questioning the hierarchal systems of value and authority that enforce social conformity and obeisance.

Natalie is somewhat soothed by your calm and reasonable demeanour and tone of voice, yet she still eyes you with the utmost suspicion and distrust from several spans of arms-length distance away.

But before Natalie can question your motives any further, you both jump at the jolt of a bone-wrenching crash...

Was your memory a deja vu... have your worst fears come to pass? Has Heather, upon witnessing the spectacle of the rider upon her former boyfriend's motorcycle, with the arms of a beautiful girl entwined around him, a girl that should have been her... has Heather decided finally to take the ultimate leap of desperation to make him notice her, regret leaving her - in a manner he will never forget...?

File: 20240623_004045.jpg (2.2 MB, 3736x2492)

2.2 MB JPG

Heather is still on the roof, though it seems it is her makeshift shrine of incense, crystals and meditational herbs that has plummeted the neckbreaking drop from the precipice at the top of the abandoned shopping mall, having crashed into the kerb and tarmac of the car park beneath her.

You realise instantly it was wise of you to wait and not mention Finlay, for it seems Heather is upset about something else entirely. She must not have recognised or even seen the scene below with Annabel and the Black Motorcycle Rider. Another revelation might finslly push her over the edge...

Tears (also some mucus) streaming down her face, mottled in clumps around her eyelashes, Heather wails...
-You... you told me this ritual would work! To de-centre men from my life?? They sent NUDES! Nudes of me to everyone I know! That... sick 4kennel videogame imageboard! And they didn't even use my actual body for most of them, but instead some AI model trained on far more attractive strippers, adult entertainers! And the most insulting one: they took my prettiest photo, my beach swimwear profile photo, and they actually covered up my body with more modest clothes!! This is so sick (Heather weeps snd sobs) and it is ALL YOUR FAULT!!

Natalie looks at you sceptically:
-So is this... your girlfriend?

>Reply to Natalie: why, do you want a threesome? Boy on girl on girl? Ride the roast tricycle? Pump and munch the triWANGular?

>Reply to Heather: could I please have a link to these nudes, please? You know, to help find the perpetrators, track them down and congratulate- I mean, punish them

>Stay there, Heather. I am coming to you (rejoin her on roof)

>Oh, also did you know Finlay has a new girlfriend? This really beautiful actress named Annabel?

>Reply, gesturing frantically at Heather swaying at the edge of the Dead Mall roof: Natalie - aren't you some relationship counsellor or something? Help her...!

>Reply: I am so attracted to the sight of weeping women. I really don't understand it. It is just... the pure suffering

>Run up to the roof, to console Heather. When you get close, close enough to comfort and embrace her, lick the wet dewdrops of her grief and humiliation like some sort of bizarre tear-sucking vampire, whilst making a face reminiscent of Nicolas Cage

>This is all a distraction. You must chase after Annabel and the Black Motorbike Rider NOW

>Something else...?

>>6042598
>This is all a distraction. You must chase after Annabel and the Black Motorbike Rider NOW
My brain is too smooth to process much of this other than Heather is mad at us, but I think gtfo is the right idea?

>>6042598
>Run up to the roof, to console Heather. When you get close, close enough to comfort and embrace her, lick the wet dewdrops of her grief and humiliation like some sort of bizarre tear-sucking vampire, whilst making a face reminiscent of Nicolas Cage

How could you even post an option like this and expect me not to vote for it?

>>6042598
>Run up to the roof, to console Heather. When you get close, close enough to comfort and embrace her, lick the wet dewdrops of her grief and humiliation like some sort of bizarre tear-sucking vampire, whilst making a face reminiscent of Nicolas Cage
And invite Natalie

>>6042676
>>6042762
>tfw I share the thread with people that just want to watch the world burn
fuck
>>6042598
>Reply, gesturing frantically at Heather swaying at the edge of the Dead Mall roof: Natalie - aren't you some relationship counsellor or something? Help her...!

File: 20240623_114745.jpg (151 KB, 1664x1080)

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>>6042676
>>6042762
>Run to the roof with Natalie, attempt to lick Heather's crying face like a bizarre tear-sucking vampire, with Nicolas Cage face etc.

For centuries you have lived in secret, hiding in the shadows, alone in the world. Until now. Feeding upon cast away beach tissues, suckling upon those whose eyes water in bright sunshine with summer pollen allergies. This can surely be the only explanation? You have two choices. You can feed upon her and make her forget, or you can let her run away screaming "Vampire!"- let them chain you up and drive a stake through your heart, which will actually probably not do anything, but will be painful and mildly annoy you, or so you believe. Vampires often turn on those who trust them. But she has very juicy tear ducts, brimming with such succulent sorrow.

As you move in and brush away mascara-smeared strands of blue hair from her cheeks - her freckled skin tastes a little milky, whilst her tears sing with notes of incense and pomegranates - Heather mistakes your intentions:
-Ow! That is my eye! My mouth is down here! What-what are you doing? Is this your way of trying to comfort me? You... you disgust me...(Heather feebly and unconvincingly tries to push you away) Please... please just... hold me. I am so alone. All the men, they are always trying to take advantage of me. Especially when I am vulnerable. They are so hypocritical. It is so hard... (Heather shudders and sobs) I always end up alone, I am alone, always alone! I think it is why I hang out with Donnie sometimes. At least he always speaks what he feels, what everyone is really secretly thinking. Donnie doesn't hide anything. You... you wouldn't hide anything from me, would you...?

Natalie is extremely embarrassed and disturbed by this entire scene.
-So... I am going to... go home now...

Somehow, high above the Car Park on the Dead Mall roof, your phone rings. It is always so convenient when the mobile signal suddenly returns for narrative purposes

File: vitalii-smyk-pr-shot-03.jpg (222 KB, 1920x802)

222 KB JPG

Lockdown Armoured Patrol Division (LAPD)

Nobody really remembers their original purpose or what they even do anymore, but it seems to involve a lot of re-purposed surplus military gear from overseas wars, drones, body armour, gas masks, night vision and assault rifles, that sort of thing. Armoured patrols in the Lockdown Area consist primarily of independent contractors who are remunerated according to their own individual takedowns, fostering a loot-what-you-kill mentality of survival.

(your phone call)
UNKNOWN NUMBER (Donnie Raoul on a burner phone...??)
-Yo sangre, da police are comin' with them legion of boom flyby muthafuckas, gotta run or yo' gon' get creased, blood. Them shots ring out and that shotadetector come beaming fo' yo ass...

(QM: you think the caller is referring to a system similar to this

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunfire_locator

an acoustic telemetry and surveillance system consisting of an array of listening sensors to range and triangulate changes in sound pressure from gunshots, installed across dispersed locations around the district perimeter to DTLA, used for algorithmic intelligence-led policing.

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/06/20/nyregion/nypd-shotspotter-guns.html
June 20, 2024
Gunshot Detection System Wastes N.Y.P.D. Officers’ Time, Audit Finds
When it was performing at its best, only 20 percent of ShotSpotter’s alerts actually revealed shootings, they found. Often, it did even worse. Of the 940 alerts officers responded to last June, only 13 percent corresponded to confirmed shootings...)

File: Lemur 2 Brinc drone.png (121 KB, 800x500)

121 KB PNG

Brinc Lemur 2 Drone
Equipped with LIDAR and tracking camera array, night vision and FLIR sensors, two-way audio communications, a glassbreaker for breaching doors and windows, with self-righting mechanisms and obstacle detection against collisions in confined urban environments. The Lemur drone can dynamically generate floor plans of the urban environment.

As the reality of the impending heavily militarised law enforcement raid seeps slowly down towards the realm of your comprehension, you begin to hear a very loud high-pitched, whirring and ripping noise, emanating from the sky, as if someone had decided to amplify and remix the vibrations of a mosquito and a buzzsaw.

The cacophony swells to a swarming crescendo, as a black cloud of barely discernible erratically floating silhouettes emerges on the horizon.

One of the whirring and hovering first-responder unmanned rotorcraft systems breaks formation, veering towards the vast sprawl of ruins at the Dead Mall, in the direction where you stand.

File: 20240623_124520.jpg (351 KB, 1710x1080)

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(The voice from the Unknown Number continues - )
-Da police, dis gon' make it real difficult fo' chu, blood. Pedro he waitin' for that kickback from yo' slangin, dem "trade agreements" that kooda he is frontin' you and sheeit, you know what Imma sayin'?

>Reply, if the police are coming I need (choose only ONE: )
>a place nearby to hide
>better guns. Do you have anything stashed nearby? I'm going to shoot my way out (QM: can write-in, I'll see if I have pictures)
>a getaway vehicle (QM: write-in what kind)
>an alibi. I'll just surrender to them

>Ask: I need you down here, Donnie. As my backup

>Reply: hey, I did not consent to any "trade agreements" with Pedro

>Mutter accusations: yes it is strange how police surveillance detected the gunshot with such a fast response time. Heather didn't hear anything with the massive noise from the industrial rave at the Dead Mall here and all. I wonder who called it in and notified the police?

>You can play it cool. Wait for law enforcement to arrive and shutdown the illegal rave; you can mingle with the dispersing crowd of partygoers and escape undetected. It is not like you have any incriminating gore pictures on your phone linking you to the murder scene of the shooting or anything

>Draw the Serbu Super-Shorty Shotgun, and try to destroy the approaching drone. Fire
>1 shot
>2 shots; afterwards, the chamber racks open, empty

>(choice as above, but) Try to shoot down the drone and retrieve it. Maybe you could put its mapping capabilities to use... You think in order to do this, you need the drone to get within a very close range to you, to try and aim for this difficult shot

>Just end the call, and start running

>Something else...?

QM: the pic related depicts the current location of the private contractors. You think it is close to this building
>>6038943
>>6038944
>>6038946
and these scenes you witnessed from the Dead Mall roof vantage point.

>>6042967
Should've LOOTED MORE.
>Reply: hey, I did not consent to any "trade agreements" with Pedro
>End the call
Can we run out before the police arrive? If so
>Do it, RUN, go somewhere safe
If not then
>Scout the Dead Mall, looking primarily for weaponry, places where we can hide and take cover, poorly-lit areas

>>6042967
>>6043207
Actually wait, we've got the respected X CARD. This is probably the better course of action:
>You can play it cool. Wait for law enforcement to arrive and shutdown the illegal rave; you can mingle with the dispersing crowd of partygoers and escape undetected. It is not like you have any incriminating gore pictures on your phone linking you to the murder scene of the shooting or anything

>>6042967
>a place nearby to hide
Hiding in crowds is best. Mingle with the rave, hopefully 55% goth is sufficiently goth

>>6042967
>You can play it cool. Wait for law enforcement to arrive and shutdown the illegal rave; you can mingle with the dispersing crowd of partygoers and escape undetected. It is not like you have any incriminating gore pictures on your phone linking you to the murder scene of the shooting or anything

Having the shorts will pay off.

File: sandra-seitamaa-Zcr67MPWs(...).jpg (1.44 MB, 4000x6000)

1.44 MB JPG

>>6043207
>>6043213
>>6043327
>>6043440
The revellers and partygoers from the rave are emerging from the depths of the abandoned shopping mall, into a bleary fog and haze of harsh searchlights and vagabond shadows.

File: baptiste-merel-Tk7pycVBzq(...).jpg (6.31 MB, 6000x4000)

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Overhead, the whirring drones are broadcasting some form of loudspeaker message:

DISPERSE ORDER DECLARED - This is an unlawful assembly, LEAVE THE AREA NOW - The law will be enforced, VIOLATORS WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE

File: melissa-askew-LMnfrGANEoM(...).jpg (1.5 MB, 3264x2448)

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In the eddies of smoke and veering UAVs, you hear the strained pulse of ongoing music - it appears that the rave has reached that obligatory segment where they play the more downtempo, melancholic synth trance song, except that the revellers have now moved outside, beneath the columns of drone surveillance searchlights

IN RAPTURES Hante
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_6ZczHGT2wQ

Can I tell you a secret?
I played
And failed
And failed so bad

But it’s not like I had any regrets
I choose
to stay
to stay alive

Can you feel it?

It all ends
In Raptures

Do you feel anything at all?
It’s in your skin
Your veins
Your veins and more

We all need to find a way
To forget
To get out
To get out of the rain

Can you feel it?

It all ends
In Raptures

File: baptiste-merel-x69j7cTtiw(...).jpg (6.79 MB, 6000x4000)

6.79 MB JPG

Somehow, through your mysterious Earphones, you can hear the crackle of tactical communications

-Control - Kill Team 1 is five out
-Inner perimeter secured, containment is set
-Approaching the target now...
-Control copies, hold on the two side

The drones appear to be herding the partygoers to be scanned by the drones at the left side of the junction depicted here
>>6042967
which is bottlenecked and heavily guarded by an armed patrol team presence.

The dilapidated high buildings all around appear to create an insurmountable, walled in enclosure with no escape or exit other than the drone and armed patrol control checkpoint to the left.

File: daena-key-red-city.jpg (667 KB, 1920x1080)

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However, you notice there is a section of barbed wire wall near a makeshift ramp of debris and discarded barrels and paling. You could attempt to climb this debris and take a running leap to vault over the barbed wire wall, to bypass any detection at the drone / patrol checkpoint.

There is one solitary drone, the same one that had veered off towards the Dead Mall earlier
>>6042965
that appears to be hovering near this section. Its searchlight beam nonetheless is turned away from the barbed wire wall, towards the left checkpoint which appears to be the main focus of the armed patrol, as they stop and search the partygoers.

You also wonder if there is some sewer access, some manhole cover that could be prised open to attempt to find another route underground. Absent a crowbar or any tools, you would have to attempt this with your bare hands, and it may also require some searching.

>Just surrender and calmly join the dazed queue of revellers waiting to be scanned and searched at the armed patrol checkpoint one by one

>Attempt to climb the ramp of debris and leap over the barbed wire wall. Do this really fast, without thinking; maybe you can vault over before the solitary drone can react
>Barbed wire and drones alone are not dangerous enough. For some reason, you feel you should attempt this daredevil stunt of running and leaping over the barbed wire wall with your Heel Knife unfolded

>You need to create a distraction. But how? (Write-in)

>Search around the debris for some form of sewer or subterranean access. You think this may take some time, as you need to do it in a manner that is not suspicious to avoid attracting attention from the surveillance drones

>You glance at your beloved Art project, the Heap Of Crap. Surely there must be some use for this??
>>6038796
(hint: >>6039021 )

You are eyeing the armed patrol in all their tactical gear. They are surprisingly few in number - some of them appear to be carrying riot gear to handle the large crowd that outnumbers them, as well as (you suppress a trembling shudder of ecstasy) TEAR GAS grenades. Imagine it... clouds of tear gas released into the crowd of slobbering and choking victims, eyes reddened and streaming and overflowing with delicious, watery salty tears... a feeding frenzy... how could you resist??
>walk directly up to the armed patrol and shotgun the nearest tactical operator in the face

>something else? Write in

File: 20240624_121440.jpg (2.62 MB, 3276x4096)

2.62 MB JPG

If you are perhaps curious about the ominous orange-red light emanating from beyond the barbed wire high wall,
>>6043640
maybe this song gives you a glimpse of what is beyond it...
>>6037284

NOTHING WILL BEAR YOUR NAME Perturbator
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cyTjJxoghVo

(oh, I see it has lyrics...??)

Love has you pinned to a dead form of yourself
Feel the shock when you collapse
The beast will not sleep
Nothing will bear your name

QM: I tried to delay linking Perturbator for as long as possible lol, he is just too good at basically every song of every album he does, he always makes for incredible dark storytelling / videogame or cinematic soundtracks. I mostly prefer his earlier stuff eg Dangerous Days, I Am The Night etc which is probably too well known already and sounds a bit too synthwave for maybe this current game world setting, so here is a different newer track of his. I chose this one, because of what happens at exactly 3mins11sec of this song tee hee hee

argh must resist from now onwards making every song Perturbator argh nooo

>>6043640
>You glance at your beloved Art project, the Heap Of Crap. Surely there must be some use for this??
>Mask ourselves with rubbish in the debris pile
Hint made it obvious, not complaining though lol.

File: 20240624_132807.jpg (267 KB, 963x1108)

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>>6043784

>camouflage self with rubbish from your Art Project, the Heap Of Crap
>>6038796

QM: ok, you obtain the

Trash Ghillie Suit

I suppose it slightly more tactical than the Metal Gear Solid crouching in a cardboard box thing.

https://taskandpurpose.com/news/marines-ai-paul-scharre/
Jan 24, 2023
Marines outwitted an AI security camera by hiding in a cardboard box and pretending to be trees

File: like this but for a shotg(...).jpg (4.46 MB, 3840x4320)

4.46 MB JPG

QM: since an anon also did mention scavenging,
>>6043207
I suppose you can find enough components to assemble an

Improvised Tin Can Suppressor

(pic related, except imagine it fits over your Serbu Shotgun
>>6039203
and not the sawnoff Mosin obrez pictured).

So this suppressor only works for ONE shot (afterwards, the Tin Can is just completely ruptured and irretrievable). It probably also reduces accuracy though this doesn't really matter for the weapon you currently possess.

File: 20240624_134107.jpg (311 KB, 1666x1080)

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Pic related depicts the scene currently; the armed patrol Checkpoint exit is to the left, the solitary drone near the right marks the slightly lower Barbed Wire Wall that you can try to vault over.

I suppose you could also try to enter the ruined buildings themselves, scavenge inside etc though you risk being trapped inside them if the Armoured Patrol tries to breach and enter the buildings themselves.

Also in the pic related map, you should imagine all the open spaces there being filled with the crowds of partygoers, revellers and stragglers, I am not making miniatures of all of them because it would just cause the virtual tabletop to look massively cluttered

so the choices remain:

>Try to vault the Barbed Wire Wall and escape
>Draw your Heel Knife, take a run-up and try to leap over

>Shoot the solitary drone:
>once (improvised suppressor destroyed)
>twice (it is loud; shotgun empty)

>cause a distraction somehow (write in?)

>search inside the ruined buildings
>search for some manhole cover or sewer access
(both these options take a lot of time. However, your chances of being detected now lowered because of the Trash Ghillie Suit)

>cause a distraction somehow (write-in)

>start a riot: shoot at one of the armed patrol tactical operators, hope that they fire TEAR GAS, then feed upon the delicious weeping eyes of all the tear-gassed partygoers

>just surrender and wait to be searched and processed at the armed patrol checkpoint. (QM: you now appear exceptionally suspicious, as you are disguised fairly effectively as a Heap Of Crap. If you get up suddenly, after remaining prone and creepy and hidden, you will probably shock some of the armed patrol)

>something else? write in

>>6043817
>Try to vault the Barbed Wire Wall and escape
PARKOUR

>Shoot the solitary drone:
>once (improvised suppressor destroyed)

>>6043817
>>6043976
Sure.
>Shoot the solitary drone:
>once (improvised suppressor destroyed)
>Try to vault the Barbed Wire Wall and escape
Kill the drone to go undetected.

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>>6043976
>>6044020
>>6039203
Serbu Super-Shorty
Shotgun (unsuppressed)
1/2 rounds remain
12 ga.

Your improvised suppressor remains fairly loud - it sounds like a dry, brittle slap against the side of sheet metal - but the 12 gauge round utterly shreds the lone inquisitive drone guarding the barbed wire fence. You even think about timing the shot with the (somehow still ongoing) rave music beat drop in the distance (QM: lol the Perturbator song jump scare) - but it seems despite the shower of sparks and exploding drone fragments, none of the human patrol assault team heard or noticed anything suspicious.

To your mild dismay, you notice two other whirring drones detach themselves from their holding pattern at the checkpoint, as they begin slowly hovering and scanning the route in a looping trajectory towards your immediate vicinity. You wonder if the drones are interfacing with some form of mesh network; destroying one will draw others to their last known location. The two approaching drones do not appear to be particularly intelligent but seem more methodical, as they drift slowly panning their gimbal cameras over all surrounding terrain.

Taking a deep breath, you shoulder the Serbu shotgun and prepare to make a running parkour along the haphazard ramp of debris to leap over the barbed wire wall. Your muscles tense and you break out into sweat even looking at it... you are not quite sure if you can make it, and your hands feel clammy even thinking about it, never mind staring at the razored and rusted prongs of wire strangling the height of the wall. Without thinking, you launch yourself over the edge...

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You make it - but not unscathed. Your legs are scraped and lacerated from the barbed wire - there is a terrifying, heart-stopping moment when you think all of you has been entangled, ensnared in the coils of iron thorns... you frantically kick and squirm and somehow manage to writhe free of its spiked embrace. If only you had been wearing protective and toughened Leather Trousers that covered the entire length of your legs... such sacrifices are made for the purposes of fashion.

You have gained condition:
Minor Injury - Mild Bleeding

(QM: hehe, has anyone worked out what the secret ability conveyed by the Heel Knife could be? Write-in an explanation...)

(optional)
>Unfold the Heel Knife and run around, with its blade held out in a very dangerous and unsafe manner??

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You land heavily, ungracefully smearing blood droplets from your injured legs against the dirt of the other side - you immediately hear the clink of scattered shell casings, spent cartridges from some previous firefight, now displaced by your fall.

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There is a corpse here - it looks like it has been here for quite some time. To your increasing dismay, and from its agonised pose of outstretched and reaching desperation - you cannot help but perceive that this victim appeared to be running towards the wall you have just vaulted over, the dead-end alley which they had foolishly believed would offer them some route of escape; an escape from the same realm into which you have just hurled yourself...

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You find yourself situated in a similar terrain of dilapidated urban decay, a maze of alleyways and tall buildings. Many of these buildings appear completely dark, but a few seem to have been rigged with some form of improvised lighting or electrical generation, suggesting human habitation?

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In the distance, there appears to be some form of construction site, that has long been left abandoned.

An excavator squats in the centre, its rusting bright yellow paintwork giving it the appearance of some grotesque industrial shrine. From this direction, you can hear a fearsome frenzied revving of engines - more motorcycles?

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There is a pit of broken terrain at the construction site which appears to drop down towards some open crevice or subterranean fissure in the earth.

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Nearer to you, there appear to be some tenements or apartments, with smashed doors and windows. You can also see some buildings whose outer walls appear to have collapsed entirely into crumbling brickwork, rubble and concrete, exposing the building interior to the elements, like the dead corpse of architecture ritually left for sky burial.

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From over the wall behind you, you can hear the incessant whirring of the two drones, gradually and patiently advancing.

>Take shelter in the abandoned tenement apartment buildings - perhaps you could lose the drones inside the corridors and confined spaces
>hide in a kitchen
>hide in a bathroom
>(some other room or location, write-in. I will see if I have an overhead angle picture)

>Try and ambush the drones in some doorway or tight space, destroy them. You think in flight they are very hard to shoot down (the last drone you fired at was mostly in a stationary holding pattern). Perhaps inside a corridor you could blast one of them, but you have only 1 shotgun shell left... how to take down the other? (QM: choose a location above, or write-in)

>Head towards the construction site, the strange excavator shrine and the open pit into the subterranean depths

>You have a feeling you are being watched... raise your shotgun into the air and fire into the darkness (No ammunition remaining) It is a bluff, pure bravado - if they shoot back you have nothing left to return fire with... but maybe this will draw out any waiting ambush, and force them to acknowledge or confront you in the open...

>Something else...? You don't feel now is perhaps the safest time (with the advancing drones) but you could also
>search the corpse in front of you
>search the tenement buildings
>some other action etc

>>6044154
>>Take shelter in the abandoned tenement apartment buildings - perhaps you could lose the drones inside the corridors and confined spaces

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>>6044164
You duck through the slanted ruins of a tenement building doorway just in time - you hear a strange sudden whizzing noise, accompanied by cracks and thumps. The impact of bright punctures and plumes of vaporised wall dust appear all around where you were standing only a moment before. The gunfire did not appear particularly accurate - you are not even too sure who was shooting or where the gunshots were coming from. Perhaps they were aiming at the drones behind you?

As you dive into the building depths to take cover, you foot clatters against another bent and bullet-ridden sign, blasted metal perhaps mounted originally upon the barbed wire wall you leapt over. You recognise that it appears to be a similar hazard sign, a translated version reminiscent of the warning from the scorched fragment you found previously in the Dead Mall (QM: this one
>>6038795 as the anon correctly surmised here >>6039604 )

WARNING
ENCAMPMENT ZONE AHEAD
NO TRESPASSING BEYOND THIS POINT
This installation has been declared a restricted zone in accordance with all directives of the DTLA (Disincorporated Territories Lockdown Area) Internal Security Act
This area is patrolled by armed contractors
Military training exercises are in effect
DANGER EXPLOSIVE HAZARD
MILITARY TRAINING ZONE
UNEXPLODED ORDNANCE May be found in this area
Do not handle suspicious items
Access beyond this perimeter is STRICTLY PROHIBITED

No entry to unauthorised persons
No through route
No access / No photography. Filming prohibited by law
USE OF LETHAL FORCE AUTHORISED

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There is another doorway here within the insalubrious interior of the ruined apartment dwellings.

It seems to lead to a small kitchenette area, but the doorway appears to be covered by some sort of cordon, similar to the tape used for covering a police crime scene, except stained brownish red with neglect, decay and rot. You can hear the gnawing patter of flies crawling and swarming over the windowpanes and mould, the occasional clunk as they collide with the glass.

There is a giggling figure in a red raincoat standing upright in this kitchen room.

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Samantha
(she giggles nervously)

Have you seen my unicorn? I like butter but chips are better. Do you like races? I can take you to Her. She taught me to count from zero to one. Who wins in a race between a unicorn and a swan? You shouldn't trust strangers. Make the bad man go away! The bad, bad uncle! When I look back it is flat, and forwards it goes up. It is a race, you have to go faster!

>Use your Heel Knife to cut through the cordon tape barrier in the doorway

>Reply: Have you lost a toy? A toy unicorn?
>Reply: A race...? Do you want me to follow you?
>Reply: Where is the bad man? Do you need me to deal with him?
>Reply: I prefer butter too.
>Reply: Butter is fattening. Can I have something else instead?
>Reply: Chips are tasty, always need more chips
>Reply: The unicorn wins because it is obviously faster
>Reply: The swan wins, because it is real
>Reply: It is flat backwards... vertical forwards... what do you mean?
>Reply: Would you like to hear a song? (Play Sammy a song)
>This is a horrifying demon child. Shoot it in the face

Oh look, the best type of body armour, a human shield.
>Cut through the tape with the Heel Knife, and lead and encourage Sammy
>Outside, to distract the drones
>Indoors, to probe deeper into the derelict building interior

>Just ignore this disturbing child behind the rotted red barrier cordon crime scene tape. Head deeper into the building corridors, and try to scavenge around

>>6044523
>Just ignore this disturbing child behind the rotted red barrier cordon crime scene tape. Head deeper into the building corridors, and try to scavenge around
The tape was likely placed there for a reason. Best not to disturb this demon child.
Also
>Unfold the Heel Knife and run around with it while we're not using our hands for something else

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>>6044562
You unfold the Heel Knife and wave it around before you. Nothing happens. Your hands feel a bit lighter but perhaps that is just from the released tension of gripping the Serbu shotgun with only one shell remaining chambered, as you stalk grimly through these darkened tenement corridors, on a heightened state of alert for any sign of threat. You remain as puzzled by the purpose of the Heel Knife as you ever were before...

(QM: The Serbu Super-Shorty Shotgun whilst not being tremendously accurate can be for the purposes of this game wielded one-handed. Hence you can run around with both this shotgun and knife equipped, one in either hand)

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As you explore through the tenements you find yourself in some floor which serves as a boiler or utility room. You freeze and still your breathing, as you realise there is some form of armed confrontation or standoff, between two parties along a diagonal line of sight in these adjoining rooms: (QM please refer to the virtual tabletop map - I can zoom in if you need to on any particular area)

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In the room directly adjoining your entry point, behind a thin partition wall (top right map corner >>6044688 ) you can hear what appears to be chanting or the recitation of some prayer:

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Ibrahim ibn al-Hashim
He is unarmed and recites the following words to himself quietly and calmly, over and over again. You wonder if it is almost some form of exorcism...

I seek refuge in the Lord of The Daybreak
From the evil of that which He has created;
And from the evil of the darkening night that eclipses the moon,
And from the evil of (the knotted breath of) malignant witchcraft,
And from the evil of the envious one, when he envieth...