- Location
- The End of Glory
[x]- Stay and heal. You need to be at 100% before you make your escape. And tip top shape, so you don't trip and get dogpiled by fifty Creeps.
- Location
- Too Deep in the Midnight Sea
[x]- Stay and heal. You need to be at 100% before you make your escape. And tip top shape, so you don't trip and get dogpiled by fifty Creeps.
DumplingJr
(Verified Eldritch Being)
- Location
- 4th dimension in 17th plane in the 4th DImension
[x]- Stay and heal. You need to be at 100% before you make your escape. And tip top shape, so you don't trip and get dogpiled by fifty Creeps.
So vasically we have two escape abilities, one too go through cracks in space and one too go into an alternate world
So vasically we have two escape abilities, one too go through cracks in space and one too go into an alternate world
- Location
- Ireland
[X]- Stay and heal. You need to be at 100% before you make your escape. And tip top shape, so you don't trip and get dogpiled by fifty Creeps.
A Celebration of the Human Race
- Location
- boundless optimism
She's right, you know. You groan softly, sinking into the chair as the automatic sliding doors open to admit the both of you into the building once more, scanning the room for- there he is, still arguing with the receptionist, who has a decently heavyset man- more fat than brick- backing her up in a navy blue security uniform. "What kind of hospital is this, man?" Sex Moustache snarls, clutching the rim of the front desk. "I wanna see my kid and-"
"Sir, we don't have any sign of parental relation on our database and you got your kid's name wrong, so frankly, I don't think you have their best interests in mind," the receptionist jabs back, the security guard stepping forward. "Please leave, or I will be forced to alert the police." Sex Moustache sighs, irritation written in every line, turning around to see you just walking in. Immediately, he plasters on a fake smile as he walks over. At the same time, the security guard follows, eyes narrowed in a fleshy face.
Square your shoulders and stare at him. He lost this round. "Who are you?" you ask him, voice quivering uncontrollably. You want to run. You want to stand up, broken legs be damned, and sprint out the door and down the roads. You want to sock him in the jaw and steal the keys and hop the border to Canada. But you can't. Mostly because of the broken leg, you swear.
"C'mon, stop kidding," Sex Moustache tries, his titular moustache twitching alarmingly. "Charlie, you know me." You inch backwards, as he heaves a sigh. "Fine," he says, "I know when I'm not wanted." He turns around to the security guard, who had stepped out from the counter. "Put the gun down. I'll leave by myself." He brushes past you, your eyes following him out of the hospital and into the parking lot, where Brick Sack is walking to meet Sex Moustache under a parking lot light. The two of them get in the van, the sound of the engine starting music to your ears. They'll probably be back, but hey, at least you've won this round again.
"Hey, Mary?" the receptionist calls. "Mr. Ulmer wants to see the kid up on his office."
You start. "What? Why?"
"Oh, he probably just want to meet you. You just showed out of nowhere, Charlie," Mary says as she wheels you into the internals of the hospital again. You're pretty sure there's a better word for that but for the life of you you just can't remember it. "See if you're free to meet with the police anytime soon, that kinda stuff. Don't sweat it, sweetie. We can't kick you out. Well, I wouldn't." You can feel her disgust just from her voice. "That man would if there weren't reporters after his ass after what happened last year."
You twist to look at Nurse Mary, asking, "what happened last year?" She keeps silent as she wheels you through the corridors again, to the inside of the elevator car, where she hits the button to the very top.
It's not until the doors close that she says, "well, Mr. Ulmer cut down on the budget so much that we couldn't keep life support on for this old man. And so, you know, he died. Only the man's family came in and raised holy hell. Made the papers and everything."
"Wow," you mutter. "He sounds like a real piece of work."
The red number changes. One to two. Two to three. "Yeah, and the man had the gall to dock our pay for it." Three to four. "Don't tell him I said that, or he'll put me on review." The doors slide open. Beige walls. Bronze plaques affixed to dark wood doors. As you pass them, you catch glimpses of what the plaques say- Professor of this, Doctor of that, and a few Mr's. At the very end of the room, Nurse Mary stops before the door and knocks.
"Come in," a soft voice says through the wood. She opens the door as you take a deep breath.
The first impression you get of the office is cluttered. The walls are filled end to end with bookcases stuffed with nothing but binders overflowing with paper. A long desk dominates the remaining space, an open window behind the desk letting in a light breeze. A little man- as in, you think you're taller than him- peers at you over the rim of his glasses, folding his hands over a leather folder on his desk. "Ah," he says. "Charlie Therese, yes? How are you holding up?"
"Fine," you say noncommittally.
"Good, good. I was made aware that two men came and attempted to meet you. One of them followed you into the backyard and assaulted Nurse Mary." He nods at the woman behind you. "I will have to alert the authorities because of that. You will, of course, be included in the inquiry."
"Do I haave to?" It comes out in a whine.
Mr. Ulmer is untouched by your plea. "By all likelihood, yes. I understand that it will be a difficult task, but once you stepped into my hospital, it becomes my business. I want to be reassured that I won't have thugs barging in my hospital and demanding to see you." He spreads out his hands and nails you with a Look.
You return one of your own. "Look, Mr. Ulmer, you know I can't do that."
He sighs. "Yes, I suppose it would be asking too much of you." The fat little man folds his hands over the papers again. "Still, I would like answers. Is your family abusive, for instance."
"Sure," you shrug.
That provokes a reaction. Mr. Ulmer blinks and looks down at his files. Which you personally think is bullshit. He's just covering his shock 'cause there's no way that he could have a file on you right now. "I suppose that does explain some things." He shuffles around some papers, before directing his gaze at you once more. "Very well then. I won't push any further, Charlie. You may leave, then. I will notify you when the police arrive."
That was your cue to leave, and you take the wheels in your own hands and begin to laboriously push your way out of the room. "He wasn't that bad," you frown. Nurse Mary follows you, snorting at your assessment of his character.
"He's not the one holding your paycheck," she says darkly. "Are you fine by yourself?"
"Yep. Fit as a fiddle. Where's the cafeteria?"
"Second floor, take a left. You can just follow the signs." She frowns. "You're not going to eat solids, are you? Soup and mashed potatoes, you can. Just not steak."
"I don't like steak anyway," you shrug. "Oh yeah, who's that Stephen King you mentioned?"
"Oh, I'll lend you a book. Carrie? You'll love it."
You'll Tell Them...
[X]- The Truth. The whole, unvarnished truth. Psychics, shady laboratories, the whole nine miles. (No holes, completely outlandish.)
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
[X]- The Lie: You'll just tell them that you ran away from an abusive home. Should work. (Not at all implausible, but holes will come up very quickly.)
Nurse Mary left the elevator at the third floor, waving you goodbye. You continue to the second floor, sedately wheeling yourself into the cafeteria. It's a pretty utilitarian place. One wall is taken over by a food bar, part of another are several cabinets of plastic bottles. The rest of the space is covered in long tables with benches on both sides. Idly scanning the room, you head to the food bar. It's pretty empty, there's at most ten or so, gathered into little groups, each talking to each other in little groups. You wheel to the food bar, ordering a bowl of soup on a tray from the woman behind it. With a muted 'thanks,' you take a closer look at the room's occupants.
There's three nurses in white scrubs near the left wall, nervously muttering to each other over food trays, stealing glances at the rest of the room. By the back, is an African-American patient that looks about twenty or so, flexing an arm as she saws through a bowl of chili. Near the door is the security guard, the former boxer, staring into the ceiling with empty eyes. You wonder what each of them are talking about.
Sit next to…
[X]- The Nurses
[X]- The Girl
[X]- The Security Guard
"Sir, we don't have any sign of parental relation on our database and you got your kid's name wrong, so frankly, I don't think you have their best interests in mind," the receptionist jabs back, the security guard stepping forward. "Please leave, or I will be forced to alert the police." Sex Moustache sighs, irritation written in every line, turning around to see you just walking in. Immediately, he plasters on a fake smile as he walks over. At the same time, the security guard follows, eyes narrowed in a fleshy face.
Square your shoulders and stare at him. He lost this round. "Who are you?" you ask him, voice quivering uncontrollably. You want to run. You want to stand up, broken legs be damned, and sprint out the door and down the roads. You want to sock him in the jaw and steal the keys and hop the border to Canada. But you can't. Mostly because of the broken leg, you swear.
"C'mon, stop kidding," Sex Moustache tries, his titular moustache twitching alarmingly. "Charlie, you know me." You inch backwards, as he heaves a sigh. "Fine," he says, "I know when I'm not wanted." He turns around to the security guard, who had stepped out from the counter. "Put the gun down. I'll leave by myself." He brushes past you, your eyes following him out of the hospital and into the parking lot, where Brick Sack is walking to meet Sex Moustache under a parking lot light. The two of them get in the van, the sound of the engine starting music to your ears. They'll probably be back, but hey, at least you've won this round again.
"Hey, Mary?" the receptionist calls. "Mr. Ulmer wants to see the kid up on his office."
You start. "What? Why?"
"Oh, he probably just want to meet you. You just showed out of nowhere, Charlie," Mary says as she wheels you into the internals of the hospital again. You're pretty sure there's a better word for that but for the life of you you just can't remember it. "See if you're free to meet with the police anytime soon, that kinda stuff. Don't sweat it, sweetie. We can't kick you out. Well, I wouldn't." You can feel her disgust just from her voice. "That man would if there weren't reporters after his ass after what happened last year."
You twist to look at Nurse Mary, asking, "what happened last year?" She keeps silent as she wheels you through the corridors again, to the inside of the elevator car, where she hits the button to the very top.
It's not until the doors close that she says, "well, Mr. Ulmer cut down on the budget so much that we couldn't keep life support on for this old man. And so, you know, he died. Only the man's family came in and raised holy hell. Made the papers and everything."
"Wow," you mutter. "He sounds like a real piece of work."
The red number changes. One to two. Two to three. "Yeah, and the man had the gall to dock our pay for it." Three to four. "Don't tell him I said that, or he'll put me on review." The doors slide open. Beige walls. Bronze plaques affixed to dark wood doors. As you pass them, you catch glimpses of what the plaques say- Professor of this, Doctor of that, and a few Mr's. At the very end of the room, Nurse Mary stops before the door and knocks.
"Come in," a soft voice says through the wood. She opens the door as you take a deep breath.
The first impression you get of the office is cluttered. The walls are filled end to end with bookcases stuffed with nothing but binders overflowing with paper. A long desk dominates the remaining space, an open window behind the desk letting in a light breeze. A little man- as in, you think you're taller than him- peers at you over the rim of his glasses, folding his hands over a leather folder on his desk. "Ah," he says. "Charlie Therese, yes? How are you holding up?"
"Fine," you say noncommittally.
"Good, good. I was made aware that two men came and attempted to meet you. One of them followed you into the backyard and assaulted Nurse Mary." He nods at the woman behind you. "I will have to alert the authorities because of that. You will, of course, be included in the inquiry."
"Do I haave to?" It comes out in a whine.
Mr. Ulmer is untouched by your plea. "By all likelihood, yes. I understand that it will be a difficult task, but once you stepped into my hospital, it becomes my business. I want to be reassured that I won't have thugs barging in my hospital and demanding to see you." He spreads out his hands and nails you with a Look.
You return one of your own. "Look, Mr. Ulmer, you know I can't do that."
He sighs. "Yes, I suppose it would be asking too much of you." The fat little man folds his hands over the papers again. "Still, I would like answers. Is your family abusive, for instance."
"Sure," you shrug.
That provokes a reaction. Mr. Ulmer blinks and looks down at his files. Which you personally think is bullshit. He's just covering his shock 'cause there's no way that he could have a file on you right now. "I suppose that does explain some things." He shuffles around some papers, before directing his gaze at you once more. "Very well then. I won't push any further, Charlie. You may leave, then. I will notify you when the police arrive."
That was your cue to leave, and you take the wheels in your own hands and begin to laboriously push your way out of the room. "He wasn't that bad," you frown. Nurse Mary follows you, snorting at your assessment of his character.
"He's not the one holding your paycheck," she says darkly. "Are you fine by yourself?"
"Yep. Fit as a fiddle. Where's the cafeteria?"
"Second floor, take a left. You can just follow the signs." She frowns. "You're not going to eat solids, are you? Soup and mashed potatoes, you can. Just not steak."
"I don't like steak anyway," you shrug. "Oh yeah, who's that Stephen King you mentioned?"
"Oh, I'll lend you a book. Carrie? You'll love it."
You'll Tell Them...
[X]- The Truth. The whole, unvarnished truth. Psychics, shady laboratories, the whole nine miles. (No holes, completely outlandish.)
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
[X]- The Lie: You'll just tell them that you ran away from an abusive home. Should work. (Not at all implausible, but holes will come up very quickly.)
Nurse Mary left the elevator at the third floor, waving you goodbye. You continue to the second floor, sedately wheeling yourself into the cafeteria. It's a pretty utilitarian place. One wall is taken over by a food bar, part of another are several cabinets of plastic bottles. The rest of the space is covered in long tables with benches on both sides. Idly scanning the room, you head to the food bar. It's pretty empty, there's at most ten or so, gathered into little groups, each talking to each other in little groups. You wheel to the food bar, ordering a bowl of soup on a tray from the woman behind it. With a muted 'thanks,' you take a closer look at the room's occupants.
There's three nurses in white scrubs near the left wall, nervously muttering to each other over food trays, stealing glances at the rest of the room. By the back, is an African-American patient that looks about twenty or so, flexing an arm as she saws through a bowl of chili. Near the door is the security guard, the former boxer, staring into the ceiling with empty eyes. You wonder what each of them are talking about.
Sit next to…
[X]- The Nurses
[X]- The Girl
[X]- The Security Guard
Last edited:
- Location
- France
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
If we intend to stay, I think this is the best option, since our total lack of paper make it plausible. Then we just have to see to which disappearance case we're linked and show it. Then we will be protected by the legal system if the government isn't heavily invested in us/ isn't behind the experiments.
Saying that we have powers risk others claiming that we have disillusions, or putting us in another facility.
Lying completely will put holes in our stories that we can't answer for. It only works in the very short term, if we want to get the police of our back and run asap.
[X]- The Nurses
Nurses are everywhere in hospitals. By befriending them, we are more likely to get informations about patients and personnel. Plus they could misdirect our pursuers a bit, or alarm us of danger if sufficient relationships a formed. Plus we already know a nurse, how convenient! We could form our own nurses/spy organization
If we intend to stay, I think this is the best option, since our total lack of paper make it plausible. Then we just have to see to which disappearance case we're linked and show it. Then we will be protected by the legal system if the government isn't heavily invested in us/ isn't behind the experiments.
Saying that we have powers risk others claiming that we have disillusions, or putting us in another facility.
Lying completely will put holes in our stories that we can't answer for. It only works in the very short term, if we want to get the police of our back and run asap.
[X]- The Nurses
Nurses are everywhere in hospitals. By befriending them, we are more likely to get informations about patients and personnel. Plus they could misdirect our pursuers a bit, or alarm us of danger if sufficient relationships a formed. Plus we already know a nurse, how convenient! We could form our own nurses/spy organization
- Location
- Newer England
The close italics should be a forward-slash, not a back-slash.
[X]- The Truth. The whole, unvarnished truth. Psychics, shady laboratories, the whole nine miles. (No holes, completely outlandish.)
See what happens, right? Besides, if the director found out that Brick Sack attacked Mary in the span of our teleporting from the backyard to the parking lot and immediately walking back inside, there must've been a witness or security camera to see it happen.
[X]- The Girl
If the nurses are nervous and gossiping, it's probably about what just happened with us. Maybe not the best time to approach. Boxer looks like he's got a nice zoning-out going on now, no need to disturb him.
- Location
- boundless optimism
Already changed, but thanks anyway.
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
[X]- The Girl
[X]- The Girl
[X]- The Girl
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
- Location
- not here any more
[X]- A Bit of A Lie: They obviously won't believe you if you say you're psychic, but telling the police that you were abducted as a kid should probably work, right? (Only mildly implausible, but police can double check you easily.)
[X]- The Girl
[X]- The Girl
Look Around See What You Do
- Location
- boundless optimism
Your plan to sit next to the girl without notice is sadly foiled when the sound of your wheels squeaking on the tiles alerted the woman. "Hey," she said, a bright smile on her face, standing to walk around the table to greet you. "New face? I think I saw you on the news."
"Wow," you replied, "famous already?"
She chuckled. "For this news cycle, definitely. C'mon, I need to talk to someone. I'm bored out of my skull." She turns and takes her original seat as you follow to sit at the side of the long table.
"Not a lot of people here?" you ask her curiously, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you are reminded that you had your face splashed over the TV.
"Not a lot of people our age-ish," she corrects. "Just old people. Not knocking them, but I can't talk about Seinfield with guys who could have fought in World War 2. Allie Walker. You?"
"Charlie Therese." You start drinking the soup, which is kinda meh, by all standards. "What's Seinfield?"
"Oh my god you poor child. You've never heard of Seinfield?" She laughs in what you imagine is probably pitying horror. "It's the best TV show in the world. Look, you gotta watch it, it's on TV here." She leans forward on her arms, eyes alight. "It's no fucking- do you swear?"
In honor of your newfound freedom? "Yeah."
"Oh, good. No fucking fun watching by yourself. You have a thing later today?"
"Maybe," you think over. "Ulmer says that the police are gonna have to ask me questions."
"Oh, yeah. Man, I don't think that's gonna be fun," she stretches until the bones in her back creak. "It was bullshit when it was just doctors, I can't imagine that the pigs are gonna be better."
"...pigs?" you wonder. Does she mean police? You mean, that's the only thing it could possibly imply.
"Yep. Hey, why're you eating the soup? It's crap. The chili's better. I should know, I've been eating more than you." The subject change comes fast as you jerk your head upwards.
"It's not that bad," you protest. "How long have you been here?" Ha! See, you can change the subject too.
"Eh, year or so?" She chews on another spoonful. "I've been here on and off, five years ever since I got sickle cell anemia."
A long moment of silence passes between the two of you, the click click click of cutlery filling the air. You find your eyes turning to the nurses again and again. To be entirely fair, they're the most interesting thing in this room. It's practically a painting.
"What?"
Ah shit. "Did I say that part out loud?" you asked, turning to look at Allie.
"Yeah, you did. Talking 'bout them?" She points at the muttering nurses, speaking in a muted tone. "They've been here ever since last year. I think all of them were supposed to take care of the guy who died- you know about that?"
"Yeah, someone filled me in."
"Oh, good. I dunno, they're just like that whenever they're on their break. Kinda creepy, frankly. They're gonna whip out a cauldron one of these days and nobody will notice."
You take another look. Sallow skin, and they look pretty boney, is the word. "Yeah, I can see that. I wonder what they're talking about."
"Same here, but they clam up real quick when I get close to them." The two of you ponder the mystery of the nurses. "You know, I bet it's just guilt," she says out of the blue, gesturing with her spoon. "I mean, they pulled the plug, didn't they?"
You stare at the creamy depths of your soup, suddenly losing all appetite. Your mind helpfully conjures images of the old man you woke up next to rotting, maggots eating at his flesh. "Hey, why were you doing this when I came in?" You mimicked the movement, a simple flex of the arm.
"I had uh, bone necrosis? Like, ever since I was fifteen. I had to stay in the wheelchair for years until like, last week. Medical miracle and all. Anyway, catch you later." She turns a wrist to point at a watch. "Gotta go for a checkup. Catch ya round, my ward's in the north side of the third floor, but I usually hang in the library, if you wanna see me."
"Alright."
-----------------------------------------------
"So let me get this straight. You were abducted as a kid from the Preston Hospital in Maine," the first cops says, sitting directly in front of you across a plain plastic table.
"Yep," you agree, fiddling with your thumbs. The clock in the brightly lit room reads out 3:40 PM. You've been here for about an hour, and you're pretty sure the cop thinks you're full of shit.
"You were then held for fifteen years. By the same people who kidnapped you. You effected-"
"-fancy word," you mumble.
"- I got a word a day calendar," he replies with a little testiness, "You escaped yesterday, trekking through the woods with a bullet in your gut." He nods at the little nugget of brass in a plastic bag.
"Yeah. Can I keep the bullet?"
He raises an eye and strokes a thin pencil moustache. "I'll have to check with the boys in forensics, but probably not. Why do you even want to keep it around?"
"Why do you?"
"Procedure," he replies promptly. "The labs are gonna take a look at it, try to identify it, then it's probably going straight into storage."
"Huh." You look at him looking at you. He doesn't look very interested in pushing the limits of your story.
"Okay, I think that's all I have on my end. I got some forms for you to fill out. By law, we have to get you registered as a ward once you're out. Can't just toss you on the street." To be quite honest, that's not a bad plan. "We're still figuring out if you have living relatives, but we can get that to you within a couple of days. You do, great, we'll send you to them. If not, we'll find a foster family or an orphanage."
"Oh, okay," you say. "Are we done?"
"Yeah, you can go." Immediately, you wheel your chair out of that little room. It was getting a little claustrophobic in there. Your head is buzzing. To be honest, you always thought that you were going to pull a runner as soon as you could run. The creeps were definitely going to catch up to the hospital sooner or later, but you never even thought about what would happen tomorrow, let alone two weeks.
You sigh. Time to sort through your feelings about this entire thing, you suppose. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another blue suited policeman enter the small room.
Wardship
[X]- Family: You never had a family. A mother. A father. You know, you'd really like to know what it's like.
[X]- Orphanage: It'd be pretty awkward to pop up on a family now, wouldn't it? But hanging with your peers sounds pretty cool.
[X]- Antipathic: You just want to leave. This all sounds tiring, and you want to move around. You didn't bust out of a lab to stay in one place forever.
What do you do after the interrogation? (Pick 2)
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
[X]- Find one of the nurses.
[X]- Go to the backyard again.
"Wow," you replied, "famous already?"
She chuckled. "For this news cycle, definitely. C'mon, I need to talk to someone. I'm bored out of my skull." She turns and takes her original seat as you follow to sit at the side of the long table.
"Not a lot of people here?" you ask her curiously, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach as you are reminded that you had your face splashed over the TV.
"Not a lot of people our age-ish," she corrects. "Just old people. Not knocking them, but I can't talk about Seinfield with guys who could have fought in World War 2. Allie Walker. You?"
"Charlie Therese." You start drinking the soup, which is kinda meh, by all standards. "What's Seinfield?"
"Oh my god you poor child. You've never heard of Seinfield?" She laughs in what you imagine is probably pitying horror. "It's the best TV show in the world. Look, you gotta watch it, it's on TV here." She leans forward on her arms, eyes alight. "It's no fucking- do you swear?"
In honor of your newfound freedom? "Yeah."
"Oh, good. No fucking fun watching by yourself. You have a thing later today?"
"Maybe," you think over. "Ulmer says that the police are gonna have to ask me questions."
"Oh, yeah. Man, I don't think that's gonna be fun," she stretches until the bones in her back creak. "It was bullshit when it was just doctors, I can't imagine that the pigs are gonna be better."
"...pigs?" you wonder. Does she mean police? You mean, that's the only thing it could possibly imply.
"Yep. Hey, why're you eating the soup? It's crap. The chili's better. I should know, I've been eating more than you." The subject change comes fast as you jerk your head upwards.
"It's not that bad," you protest. "How long have you been here?" Ha! See, you can change the subject too.
"Eh, year or so?" She chews on another spoonful. "I've been here on and off, five years ever since I got sickle cell anemia."
A long moment of silence passes between the two of you, the click click click of cutlery filling the air. You find your eyes turning to the nurses again and again. To be entirely fair, they're the most interesting thing in this room. It's practically a painting.
"What?"
Ah shit. "Did I say that part out loud?" you asked, turning to look at Allie.
"Yeah, you did. Talking 'bout them?" She points at the muttering nurses, speaking in a muted tone. "They've been here ever since last year. I think all of them were supposed to take care of the guy who died- you know about that?"
"Yeah, someone filled me in."
"Oh, good. I dunno, they're just like that whenever they're on their break. Kinda creepy, frankly. They're gonna whip out a cauldron one of these days and nobody will notice."
You take another look. Sallow skin, and they look pretty boney, is the word. "Yeah, I can see that. I wonder what they're talking about."
"Same here, but they clam up real quick when I get close to them." The two of you ponder the mystery of the nurses. "You know, I bet it's just guilt," she says out of the blue, gesturing with her spoon. "I mean, they pulled the plug, didn't they?"
You stare at the creamy depths of your soup, suddenly losing all appetite. Your mind helpfully conjures images of the old man you woke up next to rotting, maggots eating at his flesh. "Hey, why were you doing this when I came in?" You mimicked the movement, a simple flex of the arm.
"I had uh, bone necrosis? Like, ever since I was fifteen. I had to stay in the wheelchair for years until like, last week. Medical miracle and all. Anyway, catch you later." She turns a wrist to point at a watch. "Gotta go for a checkup. Catch ya round, my ward's in the north side of the third floor, but I usually hang in the library, if you wanna see me."
"Alright."
-----------------------------------------------
"So let me get this straight. You were abducted as a kid from the Preston Hospital in Maine," the first cops says, sitting directly in front of you across a plain plastic table.
"Yep," you agree, fiddling with your thumbs. The clock in the brightly lit room reads out 3:40 PM. You've been here for about an hour, and you're pretty sure the cop thinks you're full of shit.
"You were then held for fifteen years. By the same people who kidnapped you. You effected-"
"-fancy word," you mumble.
"- I got a word a day calendar," he replies with a little testiness, "You escaped yesterday, trekking through the woods with a bullet in your gut." He nods at the little nugget of brass in a plastic bag.
"Yeah. Can I keep the bullet?"
He raises an eye and strokes a thin pencil moustache. "I'll have to check with the boys in forensics, but probably not. Why do you even want to keep it around?"
"Why do you?"
"Procedure," he replies promptly. "The labs are gonna take a look at it, try to identify it, then it's probably going straight into storage."
"Huh." You look at him looking at you. He doesn't look very interested in pushing the limits of your story.
"Okay, I think that's all I have on my end. I got some forms for you to fill out. By law, we have to get you registered as a ward once you're out. Can't just toss you on the street." To be quite honest, that's not a bad plan. "We're still figuring out if you have living relatives, but we can get that to you within a couple of days. You do, great, we'll send you to them. If not, we'll find a foster family or an orphanage."
"Oh, okay," you say. "Are we done?"
"Yeah, you can go." Immediately, you wheel your chair out of that little room. It was getting a little claustrophobic in there. Your head is buzzing. To be honest, you always thought that you were going to pull a runner as soon as you could run. The creeps were definitely going to catch up to the hospital sooner or later, but you never even thought about what would happen tomorrow, let alone two weeks.
You sigh. Time to sort through your feelings about this entire thing, you suppose. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another blue suited policeman enter the small room.
Wardship
[X]- Family: You never had a family. A mother. A father. You know, you'd really like to know what it's like.
[X]- Orphanage: It'd be pretty awkward to pop up on a family now, wouldn't it? But hanging with your peers sounds pretty cool.
[X]- Antipathic: You just want to leave. This all sounds tiring, and you want to move around. You didn't bust out of a lab to stay in one place forever.
What do you do after the interrogation? (Pick 2)
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
[X]- Find one of the nurses.
[X]- Go to the backyard again.
Punchweasel
Maverick Weasel
- Location
- Central Illinois, USA
- Pronouns
- They/Him
[X]- Family: You never had a family. A mother. A father. You know, you'd really like to know what it's like.
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
- Location
- not here any more
Wardship
[X]- Antipathic: You just want to leave. This all sounds tiring, and you want to move around. You didn't bust out of a lab to stay in one place forever.
What do you do after the interrogation?
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
[X]- Antipathic: You just want to leave. This all sounds tiring, and you want to move around. You didn't bust out of a lab to stay in one place forever.
What do you do after the interrogation?
[X]- Listen in to the policemen.
[X]- Find Allie in the library.
Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
[X]- Antipathic: You just want to leave. This all sounds tiring, and you want to move around. You didn't bust out of a lab to stay in one place forever.
We can fucking teleport. Don't tell me we're going to not use this amazing powers.
Also, everyone knows that a superhero with a family is just the one waiting for their dramatic backstory.
We can fucking teleport. Don't tell me we're going to not use this amazing powers.
Also, everyone knows that a superhero with a family is just the one waiting for their dramatic backstory.
DumplingJr
(Verified Eldritch Being)
- Location
- 4th dimension in 17th plane in the 4th DImension
Technically its not teleporting more of punching a hole in space to another area and walking through it so more like a portal
- Location
- France
[X]- Orphanage: It'd be pretty awkward to pop up on a family now, wouldn't it? But hanging with your peers sounds pretty cool.
Personally, I prefer the idea of interacting with peers than having suddenly parents ( or aunt /uncle/whatever )
Personally, I prefer the idea of interacting with peers than having suddenly parents ( or aunt /uncle/whatever )