In Which Things Start Badly
A nightmare kaleidoscope of sensation flashes through your mind.
The feel of your blade hacking into flesh, jarring on metal and bone.
The sound of an arrow slicing through the night air, the wet gurgle as it sinks into a soft throat.
The smell of ozone and burned flesh.
Countless wounds, countless deaths, oceans of blood spilled…
An eternity of battles pours into your mind and you feel it fracture under the stress of the alien memories.
And just when you think your mind will shatter entirely and spill everything you are into that black maelstrom, it ends, and you remember.
You are Peter Sable. You charmed a costume out of the shop girl at Halloween World with a promise that you'd return it in mint condition. There might've been a few vague allusions to some future date, but you never actually said you'd go out with her. You can't be faulted if she misunderstood, right?
It was a nice costume, some fantasy warrior complete with plastic armor, sword and shield. You didn't really recognize the character. Apparently it was from a video game, and you weren't allowed to play those growing up. Still, you looked good in it. That's what counted.
You were making the rounds at the bars - slipping seamlessly into various groups, prodding people into buying rounds for everyone, then slipping away before it's your turn – when the black sun dawned in the west and the world slipped into chaos.
And now…
You are very suddenly aware that you are holding a sword. It feels heavy in your hand, real, not plastic.
It's covered in blood.
You look down. At some point, your armor plastic armor had become real as well. It too is splattered with blood, and freshly scarred as, if it had recently seen battle.
Your consciousness expands and you notice for the first time an array of strangely garbed people, all beaten and bloody and looking slightly concussed.
To the left, you see a guy dressed as a cowboy, complete with billowing black duster and silver six shooters (both of which, you notice, are aimed at you). To the right, a Robin Hood wannabe stands with an arrow nocked but not drawn beside a girl in a generic skanky witch costume. Center concerns you most. A girl in a Supergirl costume glares at you. It wouldn't be especially worrying save that her eyes seem to be burning like miniature suns.
"Drop your sword," Supergirl rasps. "I don't know what's happening, I don't-" Her voice seems to fail her and she shakes her head angrily, as if to clear her thoughts. "I don't remember all of it, but I know you killed him. So drop your sword and get on the ground or I'll burn your goddamn head off."
… You did what? You can't have- Your thoughts are interrupted by the metallic click of two revolvers being cocked. Out of the corner of your eye you see Robin Hood draw his arrow and take aim.
This situation is rapidly heading to a bad place. You need to take control, you can still-
As if to mock the thought, your consciousness expands in a strange new direction, and you're suddenly aware of a map. You know instinctively that you are the green arrow at the center. You suspect the four red dots arrayed in front of you are Cowboy, Supergirl, Robin Hood and the Witch. But the two red dots advancing on you from the rear? Those are new.
Like the proverbial cherry on top, a sudden chime almost causes you to flinch. A window appears in front of you.
Would You Like to Save?
[Yes] [No]
[ ] Reach out and tap [Yes].
[ ] Drop your sword and try to talk your way out of this (What do you say?).
[ ] … Fake fainting. Maybe they'll leave you alone? It works for 'possums.
[ ] Attack!
[ ] Write in.
