- Location
- The End of Glory
I want to ask, we are a boy right ?
- Location
- boundless optimism
i'unno i haven't used pronouns since i started writing the quest i'm not gonna use 'em now
- Location
- not here any more
You can also vote for "what to do after the interrogation".
Huh, I figured that the PC is a girl.
i'unno i haven't used pronouns since i started writing the quest i'm not gonna use 'em now
- Location
- The End of Glory
So was I
We're So Pleased To Be With You
- Location
- boundless optimism
The wall of the door is thin, so you can hear each and every world clearly from the two cops. "Kid's lying so hard, I'm surprised their pants didn't catch fire," the pencil-moustache'd cop says. "Hell, it's a good story, at least. Maybe they'll publish it and rank in a couple grand."
"I'd buy a copy," the cop that just entered the room said. "Back on track. I'll bet you a dollar that it's a runaway case."
"Sure. I'll bet a buck on abduction and a vivid imagination."
"Good to know. You worked in child abductions before, right?"
The second cop sighs. "Yep. What're you leading into now?"
"See, I'm thinking that a child abduction case right out of a hospital would have drummed up some press, yeah? Thing is, I can't remember a single goddamned peep out of Preston, Maine."
There was a pause before the other voice said, "if you're trying to get me to pay up now, it's not gonna work."
"Dang. Can't fault a man for trying, at least. Wanna get a bite to eat?" You hear a chair scrape. Pencil Moustache is standing up. Crap, crap crap, you think as you wheel your chair backwards and around, away from the little room. You're halfway across the hallway before the door creaks open, so you turn your head and start looking at a diagram of the human body.
It's not really interesting. The door creeps open behind you, and you turn to look at the two policemen, ambling out of the room that was too small. The cop that was interrogating you squints at you suspiciously while the other just nods as they walk towards the stairwell. Phew. Lucky you.
be seeing you
What was that.
You didn't think that. So who the hell- okay, fine. You close your eyes and look into the Dream. You figured out that trick a long time ago. There's… some kind of purple snake. Or it's a trail of smoke. You turn around and- the second cop's there stretching. The snake-smoke is coming out from his mouth and nose. He grins at you, before coughing, the smoke coming out in short bursts.
"Hey, you alright?" the cop with the pencil moustache says from out of your sight.
"Yeah, just gimme a second. These smokes will kill a man, eventually." The guy breaks eye contact, walking down the stairs as the other cop says something about going somewhere with better food than here.
The smoke trail or whatever it is coils like a living thing, slinking down the stairs with the other cop, leaving a slowly curling residue in its wake. It's smooth and slightly slimy, or slippery. You wind it around your hand- it's almost weightless, like it's not actually something solid but like water that hasn't remembered to splash into a puddle. You open your eyes again. You're holding nothing but you can still feel it in your hands.
You'll figure out what to do with it later. Into a pocket of the hospital pyjamas it goes.
A couple of minutes later, you wheel yourself into the hospital library, looking around for Allie. The library seems pretty well stocked- there's white plastic bookshelves lining each wall, with a couple of standalone shelves in the middle of the room, wooden tables set around in a random manner. A thin, old woman is behind the counter. In fact, that describes most of the people in the room. Old men and women with hanging jowls and papery skin, flipping the pages of magazines and books with trembling fingers. So Allie was easy to find, her feet propped up on a chair across from her.
You roll yourself up to her. Before you manage to say hello, she said, "oh, hey it's you. How was the cops?"
"Nothing really happened," you said, resting your arms on the table. "What're reading?"
"Boring trash," Allie replies, shutting the book with a slam. Before she places it face down, you can see a muscle-bound man in small underwear brandishing an uncomfortable looking sword at what looks like a monkey with giant fangs. "There's nothing really fun in this place," she groans, slumping down. "God, the nearest good restaurant is like, thirty minutes by car, and the bus comes in once every two hours. How do people live like this?"
You shrug. Not like you know. "It's so empty, Charlie. I have to walk an hour just to get a burger that doesn't taste like crap," Allie continues, working herself up.
"The trees are nice?"
"It's borriiiiing," she jabs back expertly. "Yosemite? Now that's some good trees. It's a national treasure. It's just boring trees here. Trees trees trees." She does this for some time, more glad to have someone to rant to then really to listen to you. It fades into soothing background chatter. All you need to do is say stuff like, "oh really?" or "huh."
Eventually, she ran out of things to complain about. "How'd your date with the law go, by the way?" Allie leans forward to look at you. You edge backwards into your wheelchair to compensate.
"Nothing much. Why?"
"Oh, just curious. Did your folks come and pick you up?"
"You ask a lot of questions."
She laughs, a sharp ha that elicit glares and shushes from the geriatric people in the library. Allie rolls her eyes at them. "Yeah, I guess I do. Spill, though."
"Nope," you say, popping the p.
She squints at you. "The cops couldn't get anything, you're not either."
"So you are hiding something!" she whispers triumphantly at you. Suddenly you're not so interested in her company anymore. Her hand darts out and grabs the armbar of the wheelchair as you start to wheel yourself out. "Wait, no, don't leave, I'm sorry, okay? Look, I'll never bring it up again. We can talk about something else!"
You breathe in, considering. She's not a Creep, you remind yourself, and those cops weren't either except for maybe that smoke man. She wasn't that bad, you convince yourself. She liked talking and asking questions and that's it. And she's never going to do it again, and even if she did, what's the matter? You can leave whenever you want to. "Fine," you decide. "But don't ever bring it up ever again, okay?"
Ramble on…
[X]- The hospital, and the nurses and the old man.
[X]- Places nearby, and what you can do.
[X]- Write In
AN: yeah yeah it's been a while but i ran out of juice for the other quest.
"I'd buy a copy," the cop that just entered the room said. "Back on track. I'll bet you a dollar that it's a runaway case."
"Sure. I'll bet a buck on abduction and a vivid imagination."
"Good to know. You worked in child abductions before, right?"
The second cop sighs. "Yep. What're you leading into now?"
"See, I'm thinking that a child abduction case right out of a hospital would have drummed up some press, yeah? Thing is, I can't remember a single goddamned peep out of Preston, Maine."
There was a pause before the other voice said, "if you're trying to get me to pay up now, it's not gonna work."
"Dang. Can't fault a man for trying, at least. Wanna get a bite to eat?" You hear a chair scrape. Pencil Moustache is standing up. Crap, crap crap, you think as you wheel your chair backwards and around, away from the little room. You're halfway across the hallway before the door creaks open, so you turn your head and start looking at a diagram of the human body.
It's not really interesting. The door creeps open behind you, and you turn to look at the two policemen, ambling out of the room that was too small. The cop that was interrogating you squints at you suspiciously while the other just nods as they walk towards the stairwell. Phew. Lucky you.
be seeing you
What was that.
You didn't think that. So who the hell- okay, fine. You close your eyes and look into the Dream. You figured out that trick a long time ago. There's… some kind of purple snake. Or it's a trail of smoke. You turn around and- the second cop's there stretching. The snake-smoke is coming out from his mouth and nose. He grins at you, before coughing, the smoke coming out in short bursts.
"Hey, you alright?" the cop with the pencil moustache says from out of your sight.
"Yeah, just gimme a second. These smokes will kill a man, eventually." The guy breaks eye contact, walking down the stairs as the other cop says something about going somewhere with better food than here.
The smoke trail or whatever it is coils like a living thing, slinking down the stairs with the other cop, leaving a slowly curling residue in its wake. It's smooth and slightly slimy, or slippery. You wind it around your hand- it's almost weightless, like it's not actually something solid but like water that hasn't remembered to splash into a puddle. You open your eyes again. You're holding nothing but you can still feel it in your hands.
You'll figure out what to do with it later. Into a pocket of the hospital pyjamas it goes.
A couple of minutes later, you wheel yourself into the hospital library, looking around for Allie. The library seems pretty well stocked- there's white plastic bookshelves lining each wall, with a couple of standalone shelves in the middle of the room, wooden tables set around in a random manner. A thin, old woman is behind the counter. In fact, that describes most of the people in the room. Old men and women with hanging jowls and papery skin, flipping the pages of magazines and books with trembling fingers. So Allie was easy to find, her feet propped up on a chair across from her.
You roll yourself up to her. Before you manage to say hello, she said, "oh, hey it's you. How was the cops?"
"Nothing really happened," you said, resting your arms on the table. "What're reading?"
"Boring trash," Allie replies, shutting the book with a slam. Before she places it face down, you can see a muscle-bound man in small underwear brandishing an uncomfortable looking sword at what looks like a monkey with giant fangs. "There's nothing really fun in this place," she groans, slumping down. "God, the nearest good restaurant is like, thirty minutes by car, and the bus comes in once every two hours. How do people live like this?"
You shrug. Not like you know. "It's so empty, Charlie. I have to walk an hour just to get a burger that doesn't taste like crap," Allie continues, working herself up.
"The trees are nice?"
"It's borriiiiing," she jabs back expertly. "Yosemite? Now that's some good trees. It's a national treasure. It's just boring trees here. Trees trees trees." She does this for some time, more glad to have someone to rant to then really to listen to you. It fades into soothing background chatter. All you need to do is say stuff like, "oh really?" or "huh."
Eventually, she ran out of things to complain about. "How'd your date with the law go, by the way?" Allie leans forward to look at you. You edge backwards into your wheelchair to compensate.
"Nothing much. Why?"
"Oh, just curious. Did your folks come and pick you up?"
"You ask a lot of questions."
She laughs, a sharp ha that elicit glares and shushes from the geriatric people in the library. Allie rolls her eyes at them. "Yeah, I guess I do. Spill, though."
"Nope," you say, popping the p.
She squints at you. "The cops couldn't get anything, you're not either."
"So you are hiding something!" she whispers triumphantly at you. Suddenly you're not so interested in her company anymore. Her hand darts out and grabs the armbar of the wheelchair as you start to wheel yourself out. "Wait, no, don't leave, I'm sorry, okay? Look, I'll never bring it up again. We can talk about something else!"
You breathe in, considering. She's not a Creep, you remind yourself, and those cops weren't either except for maybe that smoke man. She wasn't that bad, you convince yourself. She liked talking and asking questions and that's it. And she's never going to do it again, and even if she did, what's the matter? You can leave whenever you want to. "Fine," you decide. "But don't ever bring it up ever again, okay?"
Ramble on…
[X]- The hospital, and the nurses and the old man.
[X]- Places nearby, and what you can do.
[X]- Write In
AN: yeah yeah it's been a while but i ran out of juice for the other quest.
- Location
- boundless optimism
For clarification, what that vote is supposed to be is what you can do around here. It's the vote for sneaking out of the hospital and eating at Denny's.
- Location
- College Station, Texas
[X]- Write In
-[X] Don't talk to Allie. She's a waste of time.
Boring useless side character is boring and useless. We need progression.
-[X] Don't talk to Allie. She's a waste of time.
Boring useless side character is boring and useless. We need progression.
- Location
- not here any more
[X]- The hospital, and the nurses and the old man.
There Ain't A Cloud In Sight
- Location
- boundless optimism
It passes like a cloud. It's like it never even happened to her, as she apologizes and awkwardly begins to whistle. The sound cuts through the silence- only it's not really a silence, there's the hum of machinery throughout the library anyway. You watch her mouth, curious as to how Allie's doing that. Some of the guards did, but you could never see them through the thick glass, and besides, the men in the black suits told off any whistlers they caught. And smilers. Come to think of it, the suits just liked to yell at you, at the guards, at pretty much everyone. Only the doctors in the white coats got a pass.
"Hey, Charlie?"
How do you whistle, anyway? It just looks like you pucker your lips and start blowing. You blow a breath out of your lips, but you don't make any sound. "Charlie, are you trying to whistle?" Allie interrupts you. She looks like she's holding back a chuckle.
"No." Your cheeks heat up.
"You totally were." She draws the last word out, a shit eating grin plastered all over her face. You glare at her. "But no, if you're just blowing air out, it's not gonna work. You have to get your lips wet and press your tongue up to your front teeth. Like this." She whistles out a tune, sharp and rising. It gets an old man the next table over to shush her. "Oops," she said sheepishly. "You wanna get some air?"
You're wheeling yourself out of the library, Allie walking by your side later. "Can we go up to the roof?"
"Eh, sure, why not," she replied. "I feel a bit hot, anyway."
You look at her. There were beads of sweat on her forehead. Weird. "It's like-" what was the month? The year? "-fifty degrees outside. How are you hot?"
"I've been working out," she shrugs. "My physical rehab is going well. In fact, I think I'm in better condition than I came in."
"Congratulations."
The elevator opens. She steps out in front of you, turning to face you as you go out of the box. "Sorry, am I talking too much for you?" You continue forward as she speaks. "It's like, wow, you're pretty silent for like a long time."
You proceed to demonstrate this for her. She zips her mouth, smiling as you… not open the door and see clear blue sky, because you're on wheels and there's a staircase that blocks your way to the roof. Stupid leg. You felt yourself tilt backwards, then up as Allie pushes you without even a grunt. "Told ya," she said as she opened the door.
"Cool," you repeated, wheeling yourself to the edge of the roof, covered by a chain link fence. Allie joins you. Red car. Blue car. White car. Black car. The lot under you looks like a broken up tile floor with the gray backing showing in each missing piece. You closed your eyes. The coffins are still there, sitting like they're waiting for something. Another coffin on squeaky wheels pulls into the lot. The veins are still there, slowly and placidly pumping blood, coiled like vines across the roof. And the heart has to be behind you.
You open your eyes. Nothing you want to see there.
"You know, Ulmer traded his beater for an actually good car- looked like a Plymouth? when he told the nurses to pull life support," Allie notes out of nowhere. She pointed at a ruby red muscle car.
The wind ruffles your hair, tossing your bangs into your eyes. "It feels like everyone's talking about him. What even was his name?"
"Pressley, I think," Allie replied, leaning against the railing until you worry that she might drop over the wall. Splat. "How's the leg, by the by?"
You look down and raise your left leg, wrapped in a navy blue cast. "Doesn't hurt. That's good, right?" It's the gut that ached. She nodded.
The wind curled through your hair.
You could get used to this. The silence, the openness, everything. "Whelp," Allie announced, glancing down at a watch, "Seinfeld is on air. You wanna come with?"
"It's that TV show, right?" She nods. You are torn between the open air and the promise of something new and tantalizing for a moment, before casting one last look over the horizon and down at the parking lot. "Yeah, I'm down. Can you give me a hand?" You, with Allie's help, roll down the staircase, feeling every jolt marching up your spine.
"Okay, I don't get it," you said as the TV belted out another can of fake studio laughter. One of the guards had mentioned to you that all that laughter came from one long-dead show- something about Lucy? That had rattled you. It was like listening to dead people, a legion of dusty skeletons hooting and cheering as they ate moldy popcorn full of roaches. "It's just jerks being jerks to another. It's not funny, it's uncomfortable."
Allie munched on a potato chip, offering you the bag. You wave her off. "You've never listened in on anyone?"
"No." Well, you did, but after a while they figured out that you were and then had everyone shut up when they were near your room.
"Well, that'd explain it. Half the fun," Allie explained as the final laugh track rolled and the credit theme began blaring, "is watching their lives." You stare at her. She blinks. "Okay, that was a little bit creepy," she admitted.
"Just a little bit, yeah," you agreed, looking out the window and into the setting sun. You supposed that it was similar to how you, when you thought that nobody was monitering you through the two-way-mirror, you crept up to the door and sometimes the windows to catch a snippit of something. Well, you chalked that up to boredom, not being creepy. "Right. I guess I'll be leaving, then." You start to wheel yourself out of the three bed room, the other inhabitants off… what were they doing? Question for another day.
"Good night. Don't let the ghost that lives in the hallway like, two doors down nibble your bones or something."
You stop and turn around to squint at Allie. "Are you messing with me?"
"Yeah, probably," she admitted. "Bit of a hospital legend- lotsa staff breaking down there."
[X]- Do the normal thing and go to sleep. Ghosts don't exist, or at least you haven't seen one. Yet. And fiddle with the weird smoke thing.
[X]- Hahaha who's gonna tell you not? Poke whatever that lives in that hallway if you can find it.
"Hey, Charlie?"
How do you whistle, anyway? It just looks like you pucker your lips and start blowing. You blow a breath out of your lips, but you don't make any sound. "Charlie, are you trying to whistle?" Allie interrupts you. She looks like she's holding back a chuckle.
"No." Your cheeks heat up.
"You totally were." She draws the last word out, a shit eating grin plastered all over her face. You glare at her. "But no, if you're just blowing air out, it's not gonna work. You have to get your lips wet and press your tongue up to your front teeth. Like this." She whistles out a tune, sharp and rising. It gets an old man the next table over to shush her. "Oops," she said sheepishly. "You wanna get some air?"
You're wheeling yourself out of the library, Allie walking by your side later. "Can we go up to the roof?"
"Eh, sure, why not," she replied. "I feel a bit hot, anyway."
You look at her. There were beads of sweat on her forehead. Weird. "It's like-" what was the month? The year? "-fifty degrees outside. How are you hot?"
"I've been working out," she shrugs. "My physical rehab is going well. In fact, I think I'm in better condition than I came in."
"Congratulations."
The elevator opens. She steps out in front of you, turning to face you as you go out of the box. "Sorry, am I talking too much for you?" You continue forward as she speaks. "It's like, wow, you're pretty silent for like a long time."
You proceed to demonstrate this for her. She zips her mouth, smiling as you… not open the door and see clear blue sky, because you're on wheels and there's a staircase that blocks your way to the roof. Stupid leg. You felt yourself tilt backwards, then up as Allie pushes you without even a grunt. "Told ya," she said as she opened the door.
"Cool," you repeated, wheeling yourself to the edge of the roof, covered by a chain link fence. Allie joins you. Red car. Blue car. White car. Black car. The lot under you looks like a broken up tile floor with the gray backing showing in each missing piece. You closed your eyes. The coffins are still there, sitting like they're waiting for something. Another coffin on squeaky wheels pulls into the lot. The veins are still there, slowly and placidly pumping blood, coiled like vines across the roof. And the heart has to be behind you.
You open your eyes. Nothing you want to see there.
"You know, Ulmer traded his beater for an actually good car- looked like a Plymouth? when he told the nurses to pull life support," Allie notes out of nowhere. She pointed at a ruby red muscle car.
The wind ruffles your hair, tossing your bangs into your eyes. "It feels like everyone's talking about him. What even was his name?"
"Pressley, I think," Allie replied, leaning against the railing until you worry that she might drop over the wall. Splat. "How's the leg, by the by?"
You look down and raise your left leg, wrapped in a navy blue cast. "Doesn't hurt. That's good, right?" It's the gut that ached. She nodded.
The wind curled through your hair.
You could get used to this. The silence, the openness, everything. "Whelp," Allie announced, glancing down at a watch, "Seinfeld is on air. You wanna come with?"
"It's that TV show, right?" She nods. You are torn between the open air and the promise of something new and tantalizing for a moment, before casting one last look over the horizon and down at the parking lot. "Yeah, I'm down. Can you give me a hand?" You, with Allie's help, roll down the staircase, feeling every jolt marching up your spine.
"Okay, I don't get it," you said as the TV belted out another can of fake studio laughter. One of the guards had mentioned to you that all that laughter came from one long-dead show- something about Lucy? That had rattled you. It was like listening to dead people, a legion of dusty skeletons hooting and cheering as they ate moldy popcorn full of roaches. "It's just jerks being jerks to another. It's not funny, it's uncomfortable."
Allie munched on a potato chip, offering you the bag. You wave her off. "You've never listened in on anyone?"
"No." Well, you did, but after a while they figured out that you were and then had everyone shut up when they were near your room.
"Well, that'd explain it. Half the fun," Allie explained as the final laugh track rolled and the credit theme began blaring, "is watching their lives." You stare at her. She blinks. "Okay, that was a little bit creepy," she admitted.
"Just a little bit, yeah," you agreed, looking out the window and into the setting sun. You supposed that it was similar to how you, when you thought that nobody was monitering you through the two-way-mirror, you crept up to the door and sometimes the windows to catch a snippit of something. Well, you chalked that up to boredom, not being creepy. "Right. I guess I'll be leaving, then." You start to wheel yourself out of the three bed room, the other inhabitants off… what were they doing? Question for another day.
"Good night. Don't let the ghost that lives in the hallway like, two doors down nibble your bones or something."
You stop and turn around to squint at Allie. "Are you messing with me?"
"Yeah, probably," she admitted. "Bit of a hospital legend- lotsa staff breaking down there."
[X]- Do the normal thing and go to sleep. Ghosts don't exist, or at least you haven't seen one. Yet. And fiddle with the weird smoke thing.
[X]- Hahaha who's gonna tell you not? Poke whatever that lives in that hallway if you can find it.
DumplingJr
(Verified Eldritch Being)
- Location
- 4th dimension in 17th plane in the 4th DImension
[X]- Hahaha who's gonna tell you not? Poke whatever that lives in that hallway if you can find it.
It lives?
It lives?
- Location
- boundless optimism
Yeah I had half the update written up like, May? Then COVID and so on and so forth and this fell by the wayside.