[X] - Ignore it. It's not real, none of this is real, stop treating it like it's real. You're in shock, it's some kind of fucked-up post-traumatic hallucination, and the more you entertain it the worse it's going to get. You just have to ride it out until it stops. Take a shower and go to bed, and when you wake up it'll be like nothing ever happened.
Not Your Kind Of People (A Superhero Quest)
- Thread starter ZerbanDaGreat
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- Dallas
[X] Ignore it. It's not real, none of this is real, stop treating it like it's real. You're in shock, it's some kind of fucked-up post-traumatic hallucination, and the more you entertain it the worse it's going to get. You just have to ride it out until it stops. Take a shower and go to bed, and when you wake up it'll be like nothing ever happened.
We're covered in sweat, blood, and probably a little mud, a shower will go a long way to feeling human. Plus, we're hopped up on monster and really it's the equivalent to drinking unicorn blood HP style. Yeah you'll be awake and alert, but at what feels like the cost of everything else. We need to rest and let the various hormones, neurotransmitters, and chems cycle out.
We're covered in sweat, blood, and probably a little mud, a shower will go a long way to feeling human. Plus, we're hopped up on monster and really it's the equivalent to drinking unicorn blood HP style. Yeah you'll be awake and alert, but at what feels like the cost of everything else. We need to rest and let the various hormones, neurotransmitters, and chems cycle out.
Chapter Four: A Normal Day For A Normal Person
ZerbanDaGreat
Daemon Noble of D E M O G R A P H I C S
- Pronouns
- They/them
No. No. No no, no. This isn't happening. The thought comes to you almost matter-of-fact, as if the situation were so insane it doesn't even belong in a world of superheroes. None of it makes sense, top to bottom. You might as well be entertaining the notion that you've seen a ghost. And not just the one in the mir- you need to have that shower, you're delusional and the hot water will help you think straight.
You turn it on hotter than usual. Hot enough that it hurts, prickling at the skin all over. That'll bring some colour back, dispel all those stupid thoughts about resurrection and grievous injury. You scrub yourself down, peeling away sheets of crusted grime that couldn't possibly be dried blood because if they were that'd mean you lost almost all your blood and you definitely don't feel like you have life-threatening anaemia. You tip your head back under the stream, letting the heat bring a burning numbness to your face as you run your fingers through your hair again and again. It's getting longer these days, you're about due a haircut but you like it when it gets long like this. One time it even got long enough you had to tie it back to keep it out of your eyes, but you thought you looked ridiculous so you got it all chopped off soon after. Still, if you weren't in a disgusting dry dusty warehouse every day...
There. See? It's working. You feel better already. Your pulse is slowing back down to normal, you feel alert and refreshed from the hot shock to your system, and every passing moment scrapes off a little more of the usual post-work funk. You step back and hold your cupped hands under the water, as if making a token attempt to sterilise the broken blisters and bring life back to the joints. It doesn't matter that all the little cuts and nicks appear to have scarred over black instead of white, that's probably just grime that's stubbornly sticking to you no matter how hard you scrub. It doesn't matter that the veins snaking up the undersides of your forearms toward your callused palms are black instead of blue and the heat only seems to be pulling a grey tint to the surface instead of red, you're so sleep-deprived you probably can't see colours right anyway. You already hallucinate spiders in the dead of night all the time when your brain decides you need a fresh fear injection to keep you from getting more sleep, why not this too?
You don't stop by the mirror when you get out of the shower. You don't like looking at your reflection at the best of times, today is not the day to start. You wander back into the apartment proper and pull some clothes out of the closet, the white shirt and dark grey pants clinging to the moist and still-steaming skin as you clumsily yank them on. At least your back doesn't scream at you as you bend over and open your fridge to see what's on offer - you were really banking on picking up dinner on the way home, there's not much in here except leftovers from the other night when you seriously overestimated how titanically hungry you were, ordered in and ended up fridging half of it. You reach inside for the cold can of soda-
-reach inside for the cold can of soda and do not under any circumstances pay attention to what looks like text scrolling across the corner of your eye like some kind of objective text on a cyborg's HUD. You are an ordinary person having an ordinary day and you will not let stress hallucinations ruin it. You take out the clingwrap-covered plate, eyes focused dead ahead to ignore what almost looks like a bar graph appearing in your peripheral vision, and once it's in the microwave you slam the door shut passive-aggressively. It seems to work. Your vision clears.
You could do with some water, though. You feel a headache coming on and prevention's better than a cure even when it's right down to the wire. You blast some tapwater into the water bottle you keep lying on the counter and chug it down fast. Despite yourself you find your thoughts lingering on the thing you aren't acknowledging. No passive-aggressive warnings about the dangers of water huh-?
A daily hydration progress bar appears with a percentage readout. It's low enough to begin flashing red.
"ohfuckoff" you blurt out, spraying water all over the sink as the seal of your lips breaks. The readout vanishes and you shakily wipe your mouth. You set the bottle down, brace yourself against the sink and just lean over until your forehead presses against the cold metal of the tap. Breathe. Just breathe. You're not going insane -you think-, you just had the bad day at work to end all bad days at work. Not long now. Just have to make it a little longer. You stay there, eyes shut, safe in the darkness until you hear the microwave beep. Your saviour, fuck you're so hungry that the second you have the chance to actually become aware of it it's all you can think about. Manic energy returns to your movements as you retrieve your food -ow, fuck, hot plate, hot plate- and ferry it over to your desk with the drink.
There. Much better. Getting some food and drink in you is making a difference. You stuff your face and take your mind off all the things that definitely aren't happening to you by flipping open your laptop. It's only when you open the news that you realise how distant and unreal the attack already feels for you. All the normal people were roused from their beds in the darkest pre-dawn hours to be menaced by monsters from another world and hours later they still haven't even found all the pieces much started picking them up. You take a swig of your drink. The way the cold, acidic bite mixes with the rubbed-raw dryness at the back of your throat probably isn't good but your dietary habits are about surviving, not eating right. You scroll through the results, opening new tabs to check new angles on the story.
Looks like it started when the storm picked up somtime after 5, localised mostly in the Freeside area. Response was slow due to the dimensional anomaly sensors used by bigger businesses all failing to fire at once for some reason that's still under investigation. Some people are blaming it on some kind of software fault, others mechanical, even more blaming the storm for a power outage, it's unclear. What is clear is that people have been hiding out in their homes ever since, so that was... probably cop cars that passed you on the way back. Actually, speaking of cops, one of the sites put an interview with Serviceman. You bring it up and grab another mouthful as it buffers and plays.
Sam Smith, proof that you might not need an alliterative name to be a superhero but it certainly helps, was a cop long before he put on the figurative cape. You've seen the exposés; wife, three kids and a dog, spotless career, the works. Injured in the line of duty so many times he jokes that sometimes he jangles when he walks, ten-odd years experience on the force, some of it in SWAT, so when the department wanted a guy to rep them in the big leagues he was the obvious choice. Probably didn't hurt he was conventionally handsome and had enough charisma to have done some PR work for the department before. He looks born for the part, standing there amid the rubble with a grave look on his face, dressed up in his high-tech but still very much SWAT-derived armour, everything Tactically Muted shades of red, white and blue. He has an equally modern ballistic shield slung on his back with a grenade launcher, a sidearm, a taser, a stun rod, who-knows-what-else besides - man's a walking armoury and almost every piece of gear has a corresponding photo op of him Defending The Peace with it. Seeing him standing on a street you recognise makes you curious.
"-asking all residents to please stay in your homes for now," the square-jawed all-American hero on the screen says calmly yet firmly. "As you all know, dimensional anomalies are rarely isolated incidents, so until officials have the chance to survey ground zero and perform a full analysis we must assume that another incident is coming and plan accordingly. If you must leave your home, move in groups and stay in areas with high range of visibility, and report anything suspicious on this number."
You kind of want to laugh. He does realise that you all have jobs, right? The only reason you aren't prepping to walk into the shitstorm tomorrow is because your workplace got completely totalled.
... shit are you going to get paid for that shift? You hadn't clocked out yet-
"-common refrain among Freesiders is that residents are forced to take matters of self-defence into their own hands due to the low police presence," the interviewer is saying when you refocus. "Does the department have any plans to restore faith in the wake of this shocking attack?"
"It's a dangerous world out there, and all you want is a safe neighbourhood. I hear you." Serviceman's talking directly to the camera, as if speaking to You Personally just like everyone else watching the same clip. "That's why I'm glad to announce plans for the Safe Streets initiative courtesy of Mayor Wright are underway, providing your local precincts with the manpower and budgetary support they sorely need. And though it may not help those affected by the attack now, with the brave men and women of the RHPD posted on every street corner you may just be able to sleep soundly again."
That explains why he made the drive over here, then. Is he really authorised to be making announcements on behalf of the cops, though? You thought that officially he resigned and he just 'maintains a close relationship' with his old buddies. Doesn't make much of a difference you suppose. You're not so confident an ordinary cop could've saved you from-
What do you mean 'saved you'? Nothing happened. No need for saving. You're getting your dreams mixed up with reality, that's all. You get busy moving through more links to stave off the thoughts. You end up at a clickbait list of superhero sightings - Top Ten Superhero Sightings, You'll NEVER Guess Who Number 7 Is! - and you're so desperate you actually bother to scroll through. That is to say, click through, because each number on the list is its own page that tries to load 47 ads. Mostly frustratingly normal stuff like Duchess Rainshadow in a scarf and sunglasses doing grocery shopping, or Drop Demon out of his costume on the subway (and glaring at whoever took the picture). By the time you're near the end you're finally so bored your mind's numb, threatening to tug your sleeve and remind you that human beings need to sleep at some point. As it turns out you really couldn't have guessed who Number 7 was but considering it was just Blue Glass Raptor talking to his daughter at a cafe you don't really care either. Number 10 is just a blurry shot of Paragon as he accelarated off to god-knows-where that robot asshole spends all his time between myriad sightings, not like anyone can tell what he's thinking even when they get a chance to talk to him, he's just got a blank glass helmet for a fa-
Your arm jerks just as you reach for your drink. You fumble it, nearly drop it, yet your eyes stay glued to the screen. It's just a coincidence, right? Yeah, just a coincidence, photo wasn't taken anywhere near Riverhaven anyway. But you still can't tear your gaze away from the picture, the gleam of city lights smeared across the curve of the black glass, the cape flaring out dramatically behind him as he zips away. But you still hear your mouse creak as your grip on it tightens and tightens. But you still feel like you're seeing things. Hearing things. Half-forgotten stimuli swimming in and out of your conscious mind, barely formed. It's like that thought you had about... that thing... that cratered your mood. A flood of associations faster than the mind can register, all the emotional aftershock with none of the coherence. You hunch down and lean in closer, close enough to see the pixels on the screen.
"(Was it you last night...?)" you murmur to yourself.
"(Shut up you're not real.)"
Okay. Okay. You know for sure what isn't real, because you're a sane and rational person. But you also don't know what is real, per se. Last night is still a confused, contradictory blank and the odds are nontrivial that you're gonna have a full-blown nervous breakdown if you don't find a real way to recocile it, and you don't have the cash to sort through the fallout of something like that professionally. You need to know more.
[ ] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
[ ] Find out everything you can about creatures from other Spheres, specifically the kind that... might have attacked you last night. Maybe there's something there you're missing, something that explains it all.
[ ] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
[ ] Sleep. You don't have time for any of this, you don't want to pull on loose threads, you don't want to go down any rabbit holes. What you do want is to still have a job when you wake up and that means being rested and sane enough to call in about the incident. Figure out if you'll have enough to eat next week.
You turn it on hotter than usual. Hot enough that it hurts, prickling at the skin all over. That'll bring some colour back, dispel all those stupid thoughts about resurrection and grievous injury. You scrub yourself down, peeling away sheets of crusted grime that couldn't possibly be dried blood because if they were that'd mean you lost almost all your blood and you definitely don't feel like you have life-threatening anaemia. You tip your head back under the stream, letting the heat bring a burning numbness to your face as you run your fingers through your hair again and again. It's getting longer these days, you're about due a haircut but you like it when it gets long like this. One time it even got long enough you had to tie it back to keep it out of your eyes, but you thought you looked ridiculous so you got it all chopped off soon after. Still, if you weren't in a disgusting dry dusty warehouse every day...
There. See? It's working. You feel better already. Your pulse is slowing back down to normal, you feel alert and refreshed from the hot shock to your system, and every passing moment scrapes off a little more of the usual post-work funk. You step back and hold your cupped hands under the water, as if making a token attempt to sterilise the broken blisters and bring life back to the joints. It doesn't matter that all the little cuts and nicks appear to have scarred over black instead of white, that's probably just grime that's stubbornly sticking to you no matter how hard you scrub. It doesn't matter that the veins snaking up the undersides of your forearms toward your callused palms are black instead of blue and the heat only seems to be pulling a grey tint to the surface instead of red, you're so sleep-deprived you probably can't see colours right anyway. You already hallucinate spiders in the dead of night all the time when your brain decides you need a fresh fear injection to keep you from getting more sleep, why not this too?
You don't stop by the mirror when you get out of the shower. You don't like looking at your reflection at the best of times, today is not the day to start. You wander back into the apartment proper and pull some clothes out of the closet, the white shirt and dark grey pants clinging to the moist and still-steaming skin as you clumsily yank them on. At least your back doesn't scream at you as you bend over and open your fridge to see what's on offer - you were really banking on picking up dinner on the way home, there's not much in here except leftovers from the other night when you seriously overestimated how titanically hungry you were, ordered in and ended up fridging half of it. You reach inside for the cold can of soda-
[Meal inadviseable. Daily sugar intake has already been exceeded. Suggestions include: eggs, red meat, liver, or fish such as salmon, mackarel, herring or sardines. Vitamin D levels require immediate attention.]
-reach inside for the cold can of soda and do not under any circumstances pay attention to what looks like text scrolling across the corner of your eye like some kind of objective text on a cyborg's HUD. You are an ordinary person having an ordinary day and you will not let stress hallucinations ruin it. You take out the clingwrap-covered plate, eyes focused dead ahead to ignore what almost looks like a bar graph appearing in your peripheral vision, and once it's in the microwave you slam the door shut passive-aggressively. It seems to work. Your vision clears.
You could do with some water, though. You feel a headache coming on and prevention's better than a cure even when it's right down to the wire. You blast some tapwater into the water bottle you keep lying on the counter and chug it down fast. Despite yourself you find your thoughts lingering on the thing you aren't acknowledging. No passive-aggressive warnings about the dangers of water huh-?
A daily hydration progress bar appears with a percentage readout. It's low enough to begin flashing red.
"ohfuckoff" you blurt out, spraying water all over the sink as the seal of your lips breaks. The readout vanishes and you shakily wipe your mouth. You set the bottle down, brace yourself against the sink and just lean over until your forehead presses against the cold metal of the tap. Breathe. Just breathe. You're not going insane -you think-, you just had the bad day at work to end all bad days at work. Not long now. Just have to make it a little longer. You stay there, eyes shut, safe in the darkness until you hear the microwave beep. Your saviour, fuck you're so hungry that the second you have the chance to actually become aware of it it's all you can think about. Manic energy returns to your movements as you retrieve your food -ow, fuck, hot plate, hot plate- and ferry it over to your desk with the drink.
There. Much better. Getting some food and drink in you is making a difference. You stuff your face and take your mind off all the things that definitely aren't happening to you by flipping open your laptop. It's only when you open the news that you realise how distant and unreal the attack already feels for you. All the normal people were roused from their beds in the darkest pre-dawn hours to be menaced by monsters from another world and hours later they still haven't even found all the pieces much started picking them up. You take a swig of your drink. The way the cold, acidic bite mixes with the rubbed-raw dryness at the back of your throat probably isn't good but your dietary habits are about surviving, not eating right. You scroll through the results, opening new tabs to check new angles on the story.
Looks like it started when the storm picked up somtime after 5, localised mostly in the Freeside area. Response was slow due to the dimensional anomaly sensors used by bigger businesses all failing to fire at once for some reason that's still under investigation. Some people are blaming it on some kind of software fault, others mechanical, even more blaming the storm for a power outage, it's unclear. What is clear is that people have been hiding out in their homes ever since, so that was... probably cop cars that passed you on the way back. Actually, speaking of cops, one of the sites put an interview with Serviceman. You bring it up and grab another mouthful as it buffers and plays.
Sam Smith, proof that you might not need an alliterative name to be a superhero but it certainly helps, was a cop long before he put on the figurative cape. You've seen the exposés; wife, three kids and a dog, spotless career, the works. Injured in the line of duty so many times he jokes that sometimes he jangles when he walks, ten-odd years experience on the force, some of it in SWAT, so when the department wanted a guy to rep them in the big leagues he was the obvious choice. Probably didn't hurt he was conventionally handsome and had enough charisma to have done some PR work for the department before. He looks born for the part, standing there amid the rubble with a grave look on his face, dressed up in his high-tech but still very much SWAT-derived armour, everything Tactically Muted shades of red, white and blue. He has an equally modern ballistic shield slung on his back with a grenade launcher, a sidearm, a taser, a stun rod, who-knows-what-else besides - man's a walking armoury and almost every piece of gear has a corresponding photo op of him Defending The Peace with it. Seeing him standing on a street you recognise makes you curious.
"-asking all residents to please stay in your homes for now," the square-jawed all-American hero on the screen says calmly yet firmly. "As you all know, dimensional anomalies are rarely isolated incidents, so until officials have the chance to survey ground zero and perform a full analysis we must assume that another incident is coming and plan accordingly. If you must leave your home, move in groups and stay in areas with high range of visibility, and report anything suspicious on this number."
You kind of want to laugh. He does realise that you all have jobs, right? The only reason you aren't prepping to walk into the shitstorm tomorrow is because your workplace got completely totalled.
... shit are you going to get paid for that shift? You hadn't clocked out yet-
"-common refrain among Freesiders is that residents are forced to take matters of self-defence into their own hands due to the low police presence," the interviewer is saying when you refocus. "Does the department have any plans to restore faith in the wake of this shocking attack?"
"It's a dangerous world out there, and all you want is a safe neighbourhood. I hear you." Serviceman's talking directly to the camera, as if speaking to You Personally just like everyone else watching the same clip. "That's why I'm glad to announce plans for the Safe Streets initiative courtesy of Mayor Wright are underway, providing your local precincts with the manpower and budgetary support they sorely need. And though it may not help those affected by the attack now, with the brave men and women of the RHPD posted on every street corner you may just be able to sleep soundly again."
That explains why he made the drive over here, then. Is he really authorised to be making announcements on behalf of the cops, though? You thought that officially he resigned and he just 'maintains a close relationship' with his old buddies. Doesn't make much of a difference you suppose. You're not so confident an ordinary cop could've saved you from-
What do you mean 'saved you'? Nothing happened. No need for saving. You're getting your dreams mixed up with reality, that's all. You get busy moving through more links to stave off the thoughts. You end up at a clickbait list of superhero sightings - Top Ten Superhero Sightings, You'll NEVER Guess Who Number 7 Is! - and you're so desperate you actually bother to scroll through. That is to say, click through, because each number on the list is its own page that tries to load 47 ads. Mostly frustratingly normal stuff like Duchess Rainshadow in a scarf and sunglasses doing grocery shopping, or Drop Demon out of his costume on the subway (and glaring at whoever took the picture). By the time you're near the end you're finally so bored your mind's numb, threatening to tug your sleeve and remind you that human beings need to sleep at some point. As it turns out you really couldn't have guessed who Number 7 was but considering it was just Blue Glass Raptor talking to his daughter at a cafe you don't really care either. Number 10 is just a blurry shot of Paragon as he accelarated off to god-knows-where that robot asshole spends all his time between myriad sightings, not like anyone can tell what he's thinking even when they get a chance to talk to him, he's just got a blank glass helmet for a fa-
Your arm jerks just as you reach for your drink. You fumble it, nearly drop it, yet your eyes stay glued to the screen. It's just a coincidence, right? Yeah, just a coincidence, photo wasn't taken anywhere near Riverhaven anyway. But you still can't tear your gaze away from the picture, the gleam of city lights smeared across the curve of the black glass, the cape flaring out dramatically behind him as he zips away. But you still hear your mouse creak as your grip on it tightens and tightens. But you still feel like you're seeing things. Hearing things. Half-forgotten stimuli swimming in and out of your conscious mind, barely formed. It's like that thought you had about... that thing... that cratered your mood. A flood of associations faster than the mind can register, all the emotional aftershock with none of the coherence. You hunch down and lean in closer, close enough to see the pixels on the screen.
"(Was it you last night...?)" you murmur to yourself.
[Unknown. Memory data corrupted - possible post-traumatic stress response.]
"(Shut up you're not real.)"
Okay. Okay. You know for sure what isn't real, because you're a sane and rational person. But you also don't know what is real, per se. Last night is still a confused, contradictory blank and the odds are nontrivial that you're gonna have a full-blown nervous breakdown if you don't find a real way to recocile it, and you don't have the cash to sort through the fallout of something like that professionally. You need to know more.
[ ] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
[ ] Find out everything you can about creatures from other Spheres, specifically the kind that... might have attacked you last night. Maybe there's something there you're missing, something that explains it all.
[ ] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
[ ] Sleep. You don't have time for any of this, you don't want to pull on loose threads, you don't want to go down any rabbit holes. What you do want is to still have a job when you wake up and that means being rested and sane enough to call in about the incident. Figure out if you'll have enough to eat next week.
TenfoldShields
Lounging on a Hoard of Words
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Ok ok ok, taking bets now. Is he either a. a Call of Dutyman made manifest whose internal monologue is written by Tom Clancy, fixates weirdly on Russians, China, MENA, personal breeder fetish. B. A Most Dangerous Game-esque serial killer who hunts the poor for sport and has ethnic tier lists. C. So sincerely whitebread all-American that he's completely insulated from reality in the cozy den of his brain, like a sociopathic version of the I Just Wanna Grill meme.
Because there's no way a heavily armed, aggressively wholesome Friendly Neighborhood Policeman superhero like- his favorite movie is gonna be, like, Birth of a Nation 2 or something heinous like that.
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
It's kinda curious that the (possibly) all-powerful Superman-analogue deliberately shuns the spotlight or being held up as a kind of icon or ideal and isn't human yeah, but in a very different sense and style than "human-like alien". No face, none of those little touches to make himself more recognizable and relatable to mankind, channeling more Ultron than Vision (and it's kind of a neat note, robots in superhero media that aren't like disembodied AI's that sidekick the MC's are usually coded very ambiguously, if not some kind of untrustworthy or malevolent; so Paragon being obviously mechanical in some capacity feels like it riffs on more of those horror/uncanny notes). But at the same time clearly went out on some kind of limb to unfuck the MC's everything, even though they were already as good as dead and there was some kind of time/resource/covert action crunch going on.
But then, as @Revlid said, just dropped their ass back in the exploded warehouse too and left them to pick their own way home or to a hospital or what have you.
It's all being presented with- not malevolence or anything like that. But definitely this kind of intriguing ambivalence. And I'd like to learn more.
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
will408914
(slouching towards bethlehem)
- Location
- California
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
Everything's fiiiiiiiiiiiiine hahahhahahaha
Everything's fiiiiiiiiiiiiine hahahhahahaha
MiracleGrow
Miracles for only $19.99 [They/Them]
- Location
- DOOR STUCK DOOR STUCK PLEASE I BEG U
Sam Smith seems to be the type who will seem perfectly nice and normal. Until they accidently let it slip that they measured their own skull and determined it to be the right shape or some shit.
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
I'm sure there's something absolutely deranged still at the warehouse.
I'm sure there's something absolutely deranged still at the warehouse.
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
Realistically, I'm gonna want my phone back before I do anything else. And some fresh eyes on the warehouse couldn't hurt.
Realistically, I'm gonna want my phone back before I do anything else. And some fresh eyes on the warehouse couldn't hurt.
- Location
- France
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
Wade Garrett
Just trying to do the right thing
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
[X] Sleep. You don't have time for any of this, you don't want to pull on loose threads, you don't want to go down any rabbit holes. What you do want is to still have a job when you wake up and that means being rested and sane enough to call in about the incident. Figure out if you'll have enough to eat next week.
Significant dream sequence? Significant dream sequence.
Significant dream sequence? Significant dream sequence.
WolfKit
Pay no attention to the fox behind the keyboard.
- Location
- [█████]
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
This is the digital age. The only thing more important than your smartphone is your towel.
This is the digital age. The only thing more important than your smartphone is your towel.
- Location
- Brittany, France
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
Eventually I'll have like, real thoughts about stuff, but right now my brain is fried so I'll go with "lore-saler, I am in need of your strongest lores"
Eventually I'll have like, real thoughts about stuff, but right now my brain is fried so I'll go with "lore-saler, I am in need of your strongest lores"
- Location
- Vermont
[X] Sleep. You don't have time for any of this, you don't want to pull on loose threads, you don't want to go down any rabbit holes. What you do want is to still have a job when you wake up and that means being rested and sane enough to call in about the incident. Figure out if you'll have enough to eat next week.
I kind of want to see if the machine that definitely doesn't exist has any opinions about our friend's sleeping habits. Getting a quest pop-up saying "you're not getting enough sleep, may cause hallucinations" is definitely enough to make me want to go back to bed.
I kind of want to see if the machine that definitely doesn't exist has any opinions about our friend's sleeping habits. Getting a quest pop-up saying "you're not getting enough sleep, may cause hallucinations" is definitely enough to make me want to go back to bed.
- Location
- SV's Only Complete Persona Quest
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[x] Find out everything you can about creatures from other Spheres, specifically the kind that... might have attacked you last night. Maybe there's something there you're missing, something that explains it all.
I have to admit, I'm not really that super-interested in Paragon, since my instinct is he'd just be another 'bad Superman' type, although maybe I'm too quick to judge.
I have to admit, I'm not really that super-interested in Paragon, since my instinct is he'd just be another 'bad Superman' type, although maybe I'm too quick to judge.
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Theaxofwar
Definitely not a Bunny Cat in disguise.
- Location
- Standing right behind you
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
- Location
- Twin Realms Mandala
All options sound fine to me, but..
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
Denial kept us from causing problems, but it is about time to face reality.
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
Denial kept us from causing problems, but it is about time to face reality.
- Location
- Dallas
[X] Sleep. You don't have time for any of this, you don't want to pull on loose threads, you don't want to go down any rabbit holes. What you do want is to still have a job when you wake up and that means being rested and sane enough to call in about the incident. Figure out if you'll have enough to eat next week.
You dumbass, go to bed.
Realistically, I don't see much gain from jumping down the rabbit hole now when we're half crazed.
You dumbass, go to bed.
Realistically, I don't see much gain from jumping down the rabbit hole now when we're half crazed.
- Location
- Vermont
To be fair to the other voters, we probably caught up on some sleep when we were dead.
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
- Location
- Ireland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You're super selling the whole dissociation-repression-rejection of like, something horrible happening and you just have to Deal and you manage to do something Normal and it works and your mind starts wandering until you crash right back into what you're trying to avoid and have to fight it down all over again. It's not healthy but damn if it's not conveyed super well.
"alert: piss levels critical, recommend manual evacuation before emergency vacating programming activates"
"hwaet"
"All it took was telling him the Spheretech things are technically illegal immigrants and he just took off, it was wild-"
It's neat seeing how the daily grind has been ground in so much that even after the terrifying ordeal they're only half-successfully repressing, the protagonist is still worrying about making ends meet and whether or not their employer will be able to use the whole situation to fuck them over, because they'd do it in a heartbeat if they could. Sucks, but neat.
Oooooh. I'm interested.
[X] Find out everything you can about Paragon. He's existed on the periphery of your superhero knowledge a while now, but never more than that. Time that changed.
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
LALALALA NOT LISTENING
Being passive-aggressive to your own Not-Siri health alerts is hysterical.
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
LALALALALALALA EVERYTHING IS FINE, JUST NEED TO FIND MY PHONE.
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- Location
- HELL
- Pronouns
- They/It
[X] Go back to the warehouse. You need to get your phone back soon anyway, and maybe looking around with a clear head might do something about these insane ideas still flitting around in your head.
it's fine don't worry about it
it's fine don't worry about it